What is a “Beaver Sharn”?  Well it’s pretty much a stick what has been chewed by a beaver.  It brings very good luck to the one in possession of it and when several of them are placed together as outside your lodge or camp, it wards off evil and makes the camp a safe haven for all who participate in the fun of the camp.

Again we find ourselves at a rondeevoo, high in the Rockies, on the famous Curtis Crick.  Fun was not only what was goin on in camp, but fun was bein had outa camp as well.  The day was warm and fall was in the air.  A beautiful day indeed.

Tracker and me was up stream some lookin at all the things that was up there ta see and we wuz having ourselves a good time.  Seein  fish  swimming, birds  flyin and chirpin.  Little  water critters  scuryin about.  A great day to be alive for sure.

We wuz comin back toward camp when we noticed a large beaver dam what had the crick water all backed up and deep.  A great place for large fish to live.  There wuz this stick on the dam that was calling out to me to pick it up.  So I goes over and picks it up.  Oh the powers of that stick still come over me just thinkin about it.  A warm and wonderful power.  One of contentment and peace.  Like having a very close friend next to you all the time.

I said to Tracker, “You better git you one of these!  These have magic in em”.  And so Tracker finds him one and we are joyous indeed.  Tracker asks me, “What are they called”?  “Well”, says me, “Since they been brought offen a tree by a beaver and chewed up real good.  Aint got much bark left on them from him chewin round and round on it.  I’d say we call em ‘beaver sharns’.  Ya know, they has been ‘sharned’ by a beaver”.  (Sharned is most the same as Chewed on, but with a lot more character).

We dun took those two beaver sharns  back to camp and wuz the talk for sum time ta cum.  Perty soon we seed others what went up to that same beaver dam, (or others, don’t want ever one to git a beaver sharn offn the same dam, cuz then the dam would break the water would flood out the camp below, ya know, use yer noggin), and came back with their own beaver sharns.  Now we kin put them in a teepee sort of arrangement and stand them in our camp for letting the power protect the camp.  And we did just that.

Over time, the one what owns the sharn adorns it with more powerful things whut makes memories an such.  Ya kin carve on the sharn too, iffn ya wants.  The only thing ya just gotta do is make sure it was cut out of a tree by a beaver.  Other than that, it’s all youren to do what yous wants.

Sum mountain folks use their sharns as walkin sticks too and they work real well for that.  Others use them as “talkin sticks” around the fire too, and they work real well for that.  An  you can use it to pertend it be a gun when tellin a story too and they work real well for that.

Beaver Sharns is GOOD MEDICINE!  Go git yerself one.

Bears Butt

May 24, 2011

Most ever mountain man what cum about started whenst they was yung an wandered from the city places what they lived in afor.  Once to the mountains they wud do sumpin or other an sudden would end up bein called by a name what wasn’t the one theys kin called em.  Understand all that?  Well this hear story is bout Ol Tracker, as we is callin him, but his ma called him “Ora”, cuz that was what was his midle name whenst he was bornd.

Ol Tracker was at the rondeevoo an we wuz talkin about old times and tellin stories on each other an stuff.  The night was calm, and the cracklin o that council fire was nice.  We wuz all snuggled up in our capotes and ever one had a cool drink in they’s hands.   It was nice.  Tracker decided we needed ta hear bout a fire he had started sum time back up in the North country.  We don’t have that kind o wood here so, he perceded ta tell us sum bout it.

It be called Alder wood he said.  I ain’t never heared of it, but sum had, and nun of us nowed anything bout it, cept Tracker.  Seems this hear wood needs copper an other mineral ta grow good in.  An up ta the north where Tracker had been was loaded with copper nuff ta make a new pot fer coffee ever morning.

The Alder bushes growed like trees, with big branches and tall like ta climb and look out over a million miles of ground.  It must be real perty up there.  Sum day even I is gonna git there ta see that.  Anywho, he goes on ta tell, that when the Alder grows it sucks the copper up inta the wood sort o like the water soaks up our birchwood boats.  The copper then does stays in the wood and when you make a fire frum the dry stuff, it makes a perty fire like no other.

Right then, when he told us bout it, he jumped up and went ta his camp an brung out a piece that was stuck into a dragged moose he had dragged outa there one time awhile back.  He throwed that stick onto the council fire, and low and behold, sure as I’m standing right here right now an No Grimace is standin over there, an Wapiti Dung is where he is at, that ol fire started sizzlin an poppin an cumin ta life like no budy dun ever seed befor.  It put off a spark o flame what beat anythin we had seed to this day.  The color of the fire flames turned frum yeller, ta orange mixed with purple an blue and red an green an sweetlake an the bear river all mixed up like a concoction what do you think bout that?

WOW!  An that’s not all, it burned like that while we sat with our mouths agap fer pertnear two solid hours!  My mouth was powerful dry time it died down nuff fer my sences ta cum back, an I drank my whole cup right then.

Ol Tracker went on ta say, that whenst he was draggin that big ol moose down frum the north, that he had ta build a purty big fire usin nutin but Alder branches an that he figgered by the color of the fire that maybe the God’s had dun called his number an was showin him the light.  He was complet surrounded by Gizz Bars an Woofs an Woffmarines an figured they wud have him perty soon.  He was skeert sum an kept puttin on more wood an keepin that fire growin bigger an bigger.

Whilst his hors pulled the moose closer to rondeevoo for him, he just kept puttin on more and more wood until the entire sky waz lighted up an the clouds was taken on the color of the flames.  It was a very skeery time fur Tracker, but he made it down to rondeevoo in due time an figured that he had beet the Gods, cuz he wuz still with us.

Well, we sat ther and enjoyed sum more of that council fire and then someone noticed the color of the sky ta the north.  It was the same as the colors of our council fire!  Sure nuff!  Orange, blu, green, yellow, purple, sweetwater an bear all mixed up !!!!  It danced from cloud to cloud and made us all a bit skittish, but at the same time it was perty and we soon started ta enjoy the pertyness of it all.

Now I dun seed this several times since then, an frum my recollect, Trackers huge fire sum time back must have permanent done sumpin ta the clouds an sky particulars that keep cummin back year after year.  When I see them, I recall Trackers story over an over and we dun call the sky like that “Ora’s Borealous”.

Bears Butt

04/05/2006

For many years the young Cherry thought about his mountain man name and had a real hard time thinking  that “Cherry” was a MAN’s name.  Well when we named him that it was because the Gods had spoken.  Remember the fires embers and how they cast themselves toward the heavens when the name “Cherry” was said?  It was an awesome, inspiring time and the name seemed all to perfect at that moment.

Since then, however, he has proven beyond any shadow of any sort of doubt out there that he is a “Teacher”!  He can teach with the best of them.  Scholastically, maybe not so much, but teach he can do.

One day he and I were sharing a duck hunting blind.  It was a very good day to hunt ducks and they were migrating through at the peak of the migration.  Ducks were decoying from left to right, right to left, straight down at us and if they could have, straight up to us.   I have hunted ducks for many years and this hunt was as good as it gets.  Well, I had my limit and was encouraging Cherry to aim a little better and save some shells for next time.     But his aimin and shootin was far from done.  He ended up shooting ALL the shells both of us had brought and still was one bird short of his limit when all was said and done.  He ended up shooting 53 shots to get 5 birds.

On the ride home I laughed at the day’s fun and how he had such a time trying to fill his limit.  He grinned and said he was educating the birds.

Another time we were camping.  It could have been a rendezvous, a hunting trip or any other outing that we were planning on spending a few nights in the forest.  He had his trailer and was having quite the time trying to keep his electrical stuff going.  The fridge didn’t work, the lights had a tough time, sparks would fly on occasion and his water pump was apparently broken.  His whole family was at wits end because the trip was ruined.  What can we do?

I think it was “No Grimace” that discovered he had put the battery in backwards and had the positive post hooked up to the negative ground and vise versa.

We had a good laugh out of it and all he could say was he was “teaching us what not to do”.    We were all very well educated.

The thing about it all is that for many, many years this sort of thing just kept going on and on.  It did not seem to matter what we were attempting to do, he was showing us how NOT to do it.

On a muzzleloader elk hunt we were trying to fill several bull elk tags.  It had snowed and rained  on us for about 5 days straight.  We were all a bit sick of the weather, but we kept on trying to fill those tags.  One early morning Many Steps spots a herd of elk in a shallow bowl atop a distant ridge.  He and Cherry are going to ambush them and I would stay and observe the goins on from the distant.  We had radios and binoculars to keep us in touch.

I watched as the two of them showed up on the far hill.   Splitting up, Many Steps closer to me than is Cherry and they began their decent onto the herd below.  The herd did not know they were being stocked and the stock went quite well.  It was apparent to me from my position that Cherry would soon be within range of the herd.  The herd was laying down and trying to stay out of the wind.  Cherry had the wind in his face, which allowed him to get quite close to the herd.

At a later time, we heard him tell us this:  I was sneaking down the hillside trying to be as quiet as I could.  I knew the wind was in my face and the elk would not wind me.  I came up over a slight rise in the terrain and there was a bull.  I ducked back, checked to make sure I had a cap on the nipple of my rifle, cocked the hammer slowly and quietly and then snuck forward.  The bull was only 20 yards ahead and I could easily make a clean kill on him.  As I snuck forward I raised the rifle and placed my trigger finger into the trigger guard……..

From my position I could see him start to raise his gun and “BOOM” the gun goes off.  The smoke plume from the shot was angling up at about a 30 degree angle from the ground.  Was one of the elk flying?  I asked myself.

His story resumed:  into the trigger guard when my glove touched the trigger setting it off.

Oh my heck!!!  In a situation like that, NOBODY wears a glove!  TAKE THE GLOVE OFF!!!

LESSON LEARNED oh mighty teacher of things we all need (or should already)  to know.

And so it goes on for years and years.  The lessons kept on coming and coming.  We are all extremely knowledgeable in all things that we do, and some in things we don’t do.  In future times, I’m very certain that more lessons will be bestowed upon us, let’s hope and pray nobody gets hurt.

At a rondeevoo a few years past the council had met and pondered the man named “Cherry” and his desire to have a name more fitting to a MAN OF HIS FEATURES AND STATURE.  The council did decide to rename him for the good he had taught us and the beasts of nature.

And forever, wherever mountain men shall meet, “Cherry” shall be known as “EDJUKATEER”.

Bears Butt

May 24, 2011