The archer drove out to Huskys the afternoon before the season opened. He told himself he wanted to learn more about the Monarch from the old man, but that wasn't exactly true. The archer found Husky to be well informed, thoughtful on many subjects and pretty even tempered for an old guy living for years by himself in the woods. He played a mean game of cribbage too. The archer had begun respecting the man for his perspective and his sharp wit.
The road into Huskys hadn't gotten any smoother. The archer reminded himself to bring the Bobcat and have a load or two of road base delivered as another bump put his shoulder into the side panel of the trucks door. He could see Husky sitting on the porch of the shanty as the truck climbed over the rise and coasted down into the protected basin.
The cribbage board was out, resting on top of a thin stack of books. The archer climbed the hewn steps onto the porch and was about to sit down when Husky stopped him.
"Go into the cabin and on the table is a case. Bring that out"
Inside, the archer could see the case on the table. It was of spruce bark, a single large piece creased and folded to form a box. The edges were bound with sinew. These were carefully crafted into a decorative pattern of stitches. The cover was edged with folded leather. In its center, a moose horn pattern of contrasting aspen made an emblem.
A breeze pushed in past the window curtains above the kitchen counter and over the archers face. He heard the shanty door blow closed behind him. He had a lot of thoughts in his mind as he turned to take the case out to Husky. He had never been inside the shanty before with its door closed and out of respect he felt uncertain he wanted to be there alone with the old man outside. His unease left him instantly when on the back of the door he saw a sort of hewn peg rack. On one peg hung a leather quiver, many years of oil worked into it. A good bunch of fletching- it looked to be both turkey and goose filled out the quivers top. On another peg hung a long self bow, well used and smooth. The grip was leather bound and stained from sweat. He could see the side plate, a dark spot from hundreds of shafts marking the bows center pivot above the archers knuckle.
Full of questions, he opened the door and handed Husky the case...
Topic: The Monarch of Bull Mountain --DONE!-- (Read 4653 times)
