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The tavern of Geglash
bdpf:
:welcome: Welcome to the Tavern Geglash
Back by unpopular demand, a sober scribbler will post a rambling story, produced while sipping at the Tavern Geglash.
Joe also wanted me to post more stories for your pleasure.
Ah Joe the cookies were baked today. Gee it was hot in the kitchen with all the hot sun and warm winds.
How hot it was, you ask. 90s to day and not a cold one in sight.
Here comes the story. Remember it is protected by the Noby Walking Stick!
Bare Ass Stupid
Planet RR 453 Tale
by
William Robert Smith
01/11/08 09:50:46 PM
The seep was a drying mud hole. The Boss had sent me to check on it. I turned the hard mouthed hammerhead horse back to the round up camp. I was stuck with it or we'd be eating it for a week.
The horse wrangler told me I was the last chance for the hard mouth horse. It has been in all the other strings and no one wanted it. I didn't like the horse so I said I'd take it as a remount.
Now I was ridding back to camp, hoping I wouldn't be digging out the mud hole. The Boss heard the condition of the mud hole and I was sent back to clean it out good. So now I was riding back with a shovel, to do the dirty job.
I popped the bit free of the horse's mouth, to let it graze as I worked. I knew it would stay close, it was trained to do that at least. Someone else had treated it rough, making it a hard mouth hammerhead.
I waded in and started to dig out the seep. It was hot brutal work digging out the wet mud taking stops for water and to pick myself up out of the mud. I had the seep dug out five or six hours latter. I was more or less mud head to foot. That was the start of all the trouble.
Stopping at the cook wagon, the cook told me I needed to wash up.
“Don't look at my water barrels. Go through the yonder tree line down into the gulley.” The cook tells me handing me a cup of coffee. He went off with a sack and got me a change of my cloths. Soap and a wash rag were added and I was off to the gulley on the horse.
I had at least two hours before sunset when I got down into the gulley. I let the horse graze again as I got out of the mud encased cloths. The boots would have to be dried and cleaned up latter. Even my hat was covered in mud.
They made a muddy pile before I start to wallow in the crick. The soap and rag soon had me halfway clean. I was getting the last of the dirt out of my hair, when I noticed three girls watching me. Well you see I'm a little shy around girls, never having any sisters.
Two were off their horses, getting undressed. Well I headed across the crick as fast as I could go. The one on the horse let out a yell and spurred her horse after me. The other two were soon mounted following, I learned latter, I was too busy running now, the wrong way, yep away from camp, to look.
These girls had been discussed over the camp fire a few times. They were man hungry having grown up out on this back edge of the range. They tended to be wild now that their momma died. All the sisters had been working the dry ranch for years.
Well I was running hard up out of the gulley, just at the top when the rope snaked out around me. Back I went down into the gulley. She had me hog tied real slick. Her horse kept the rope snug and I knew not to fight the rope.
“Look what I caught, sisters.”
“We flushed him!” One says.
“Yep that we did. I say we keep him.”
“Not at the main house, we'd hardly get to use him!”
“Right the south line shack, then.”
“That will be good. Get his horse and things.”
“He sure is a fish belly.” An other says with a chuckle.
“Won't the other be pissed?”
“They didn't share last time.
“Serves them right! This ones younger, might last longer.”
They had me tied to my saddle then, with my things tied to it. They did put the muddy hat on my head. They took me on up the gulley. It was near dark before we got to a line shack and small hay shed.
The first thing they did was wash me in the horse trough. Well two of then did, the other fixed something to eat. It was as good as the cooks eats. It was made clear to me I would not be going anywhere soon. I eyed the door as we ate. The oldest pegged the door closed. The windows didn't open.
Two cleaned up the bunks while one kept an eye on me. One did wash out my muddy things latter, but that was in the morning. it was full dark when they blew out the lamp. I was at the door in a flash. One was there ahead of me. A hard hand stumbling back.
Then it got interesting and hectic, in minutes. I was surrounded by bare flesh, demanding attention. Never really got to sleep that first night. I was bruised and a little bloody in the morning. I sleep the morning through and was feed by the one who watched me, the other two were off working.
It was like that for a few days, busy nights for me and a sleepy morning. they had my cloths put away some where. The hammerhead was stacked out to graze. I did have to pitch hay up into the hay loft a couple times, which got me into sweating wrestling matches with the girls.
I was finally accepting my fate and starting to enjoy the three. This ended abruptly when four other woman rode up one afternoon. There was a cat fight and I was used up hard for the next night and day. I was so sore and tired I could hardly move. They still wanted more for me. The first three had been sent away.
I lost count of the days about them with night and day running together. A fresh washed woman would wake me and make me preform for her. One would feed me what was made, not too good most of the time. I'd doze off and an other would use me. I never got to sleep good in those days.
Then the three were back, running off the older four. They washed me and feed me good. I got to sleep for a couple days it seems. Then it was an easy night with me waking with the youngest waiting for me. A shy kiss lead to things and a wash in the horse trough. She had my things for me to put on.
She was dressed to now and waited by the hammerhead, all saddled. She caught me for a final kiss and hug. I mounted up and she slapped the horses rump hard. I was off with her yelling behind me.
It was nearly sundown before I found the roundup camp. It had been moved thirty mile further on. I stopped by the cook wagon for something to eat and give back the soap and rag. The cook just smiled some and feed me good. He said my bedroll was in the tack wagon. I turned the horse out to graze with the horse herd and spread my bedroll.
The sun was up past sun rise and the Boss was kicking me out of the bed roll.
“Get something to eat! There is a seep off east of here that needs cleaning.” He says.
“No sir! I'm leaving, need whats due me.”
He is laughing hard now with the cook. He sits me down by the cooks fire, a cup of coffee and breakfast beans were good.
“The seep has been cleaned! Need someone to look after the horse herd, the wrangler is missing.” The Boss tells me as I eat.
The end! Or is it? Ha! Ha!
11/24/12 Edited some 10:13:23 PM
Hope you enjoyed the short story. Post replies if you want more.
:wece: bdpf
ChaosEmpire:
you really shoukld sell your stories
bdpf:
I would like to sell them.
Any offers out there? :telephone: :welcome: :wece:
And now for the latest my not so nimble fingers produced, really fresh!
Boggy Bottom Plank Road
by
William Robert Smith
07/14/13 03:18:19 PM
My name is Christoffer, call Ris, for short. This is how we got the Boggy Plank Road. It all started after we settled in the lower end of Broad Valley. The first few years, we didn't have much need to go to what was the nearest town, just too busy making ends meet on the table. There was seven of us whit two more baking so to speak.
Now to get to town it was a hard two day trip, up valley and over the ridge, by way of the low saddle. Two days, if you traveled light, that is. With a loaded wagon, near a week going and coming back. It was a wearing trip on a wagon over the track, two ruts you followed hoping you didn't get bogged down, stuck.
Now we was needing some supplies and not having much to trade, just some clean salt, 600 pounds and near twice that of gypsum rock. The salt was from a protected seam, clean, free of debris. The boys got carried away and dug more than we needed to seal the trimmed logs of the cabins. Yep, we had three cabins and a large barn the forth year.
Ya, see we men didn't mind a let extra hard work. We cut and skidded out the trees we cut, to clear a few fields, rather than slash and burn. The slab cut, squared logs, will mostly square, made solid walls, if a little drafty. Now Dag, for Dag-nab-it, my brother, knew if you heated crushed gypsum, dry clay and mixed with water to make a thick mud, it wold seal the cracks nice. Now we had found the salt seam and clay was easy to find just dig about any wheres. Dag remembered seeing the grayish white soft rocks near the salt seam.
Ya see, the women didn't like the drafty first cabin we built and it was crowded, too. Well Dag went and looked at the gray white soft rock after his ear was gnawed on some. He found it was easy to break up and dig. He brought back some and dug a hole for some clay. Luckily it was warm and sunny so the clumps of clay dried some real quick. Well, Dag had us crushing a grinding up the soft rock and clay. It was tire some sorting out the small pebbles and stones out of the clay.
Dag had me build a hot fire under the big wash pot so he could heat the clay and gypsum. Dag nearly caught his bibs on fire, stirring the pot. Nell nearly put a lump on his head, when he used the good wash tub to mix up the first batch of mud. He calmed Nell down and got the women to push the warm mud into the bigger cracks. Us men went for more of the soft rock. Three pack loads we fetched the first time.
Now we were doing all this extra work and still doing the chores we had plus tending to the fields. Always seemed like there was more weeds to hoe. OH, my sore back! Those first twelve, fourteen years were a little hard, then the kids were old enough to help. Things were a little easier.
Well, the next summer had us building a second larger cabin with a hight loft. We were good at slab cutting the logs square. Trimming the edges of the slab cuts straight provided planks for the floors, better than dirt. We used split wood dowels to pin the squared logs tight over a layer of the warm mud. We good good at making up the mud after Nell suggested we add some lye to the mud. It would set up better and harder. Nell had talked up some extra work for the women. They would now make up extra lye.
The next two years we built two more cabins, nice and tight, hardly had to burn much wood to keep them warm in the winter months. The mud was good for lining the fire places and chimneys when coarse sand was added. Tad, the smallest of us, had fun plastering the insides of the chimneys. Two coats built up to three or more inches. It was after we started to plaster the chimneys that the boys packed back way too much gypsum rock. “It dug out easy.” They said.
Now it was the forth year and wheat flour was very dear. We had plenty of barley, and oat flour along with corn meal. In the last two years, we lost the wheat to a blight and burned the fields. The cows and steers grazed those fields. The two bulls had their own pasture, both hand raised and gentle. They broke virgin sod real easy with the big steel plow.
Oh, yes the flour! Now the women knew how to get what they wanted and it was wheat flour or else. Dag and me got the job of getting flour. We took stock of what we had to sell and trade, it was not much. A couple cured steer hides, a couple spare bags of barley, thou it would be better if we planted more. A couple kegs of beer, if it traveled well and some canned fruit and such. Nell limited us on what we could take. Peg, her cousin, nixed the idea of trading wool. She added the need of a ram, since old Butts Head was killed by a varmint. I had forgot about that. Peg was weaving some heavy wool blankets.
Sitting in the old cabin, sipping, Dag and me talked some, not getting anywheres to finding more things to trade. Only one wagon was fit enough to make the trip up over the low saddle.
“We go out the bottom of the valley.” Says Dag.
“Soft and wet ground, that way.” I says.
“Its been dry the last three weeks.” Dag counters.
“But we need more to trade.”
“We take the soft rock and the extra salt. Salt will trade good.” Dag comes up with what we need.
“Need to take two wagons.”
“There is two of us.”
“And the stock?”
“Take all we can handle. Their just eat grass getting fat.”
“What about the haying?” I ask.
“We do that first and go. Then we'll have time to fix up the wagons.” Dag has all the answers, it seems.
Haying and fixing up the wagons takes a week with some rain added for good measure. We start out one morning with two span on each wagon and a string of extra stock tie off to each wagon. It was a day till we got to the bottom of the valley and softer ground. We stopped early and rode out a ways to see which was the best way. We had tools but didn't want to use then unless we had to. Cutting brush and trees is hard work.
The next day, we kept to the slight slope dodging trees and brush above the low ground. The teams handled the wagons easy, neither one was loaded heavy. Then we had to stop and clear some heavy brush staying the night. Each day was a repeat of the last till we had to take to the softer ground.
“Well Dag-nab-it thats a mud hole we have to cross.”
“Good thing we cut all that brush, then. Lets off load a wagon and get all we can.”
“You planned that, did ya?”
“Na! But we'll need the brush and probably have to split some logs, too.”
Now I stand there looking at the hundred feet of cattail bog we had to cross. It was doable for us. Beyond the bog was a spit of dry ground cover with thick woods. We would cut a track through that too. It was good that we had plenty of food, beans and corn meal.
Two wagon loads of brush latter, we started to cut trees down, out of the way. Cross cut the trunks up and split them up. Using the mules, we snaked the splits back to the the brush spread out on the cattail bog. Then we spread two layers of split trunks on the brush, stacked in place. Then we used the tree tops and cut brush to cover more of the bog. Cut more trees and repeat, till you can cross the cattail bog.
Four days latter, Dag lead the first wagon across, to a cleared spot where he could stop. The horses didn't like the shifting split logs. We got the second wagon across to set up camp. We then used hand axes to mark tree that had to be cut for us to continue. A five foot wide crick blocked the way at the end of the spit of dry ground. Dag and I marked four trees to drop across the crick and drag into place.
Back we went then to start clearing trees out of the way. We were lucky to drop most of the trees clear of the wagon track and cut the stumps down to clear the wagon axles. It took a whole day from can see to no see, to bridge the crick. A cracked ax handle slowed us some. A whittled green handle, was a poor replacement, thou.
None of the stock would cross the bridge. We forded the crick with them and used ropes to pull the wagons across, that was an other day lost. Time wise we would have been better off going the other way. I looked at the wagons and started to make a wheel spoke. Dag chuckled and tightened some pegs. We worked on the wagons while cooking. The timber was thinner on the softer ground. Didn't have to clear much out of the way.
Three days latter we climbed a slight slope, cutting a few trees clear. Two days latter. We came to the wagon track going the other way. We stopped, checked the wagons and stock. Two easy days latter in town, we were trying to trade for what we needed. Wheat flour was dear and cost twice what it did normally. The blight had ruined the crop for three years.
I traded the salt for three hundred pound bags of rice, three gallon crocks of good lard, half dozen hens and a rooster, large bag of coffee, two of tea, two rams and a ewe. Dag got assorted hardware, new ax and a bag of sugar for the hides and grain we had. It was a hard trade all along.
Dag showed the blacksmith how to mix up the gypsum to make plaster. The two younger sons of the smiths would line the forge chimney the next day. The blacksmith traded horse shoes, steel wedges, small keg of cut nails and a used plow in good repair for all of the gypsum.
“Bring more gypsum to trade.” He says.
“We will next year.” Dag tells him.
“How about more this year. I would like to plaster the forge for the winter.” He says.
“Its doable, for you.” I says.
“Res, we got the harvest to get in.” Dag reminds me.
“If we had help, it would not be a problem.” I look at the smith. “And some wheat flour would keep the wives happy.”
“Yes, it is always the wife. If you got more barley and corn to trade, I might be able to find some wheat flour.” He says.
“We brought what we had extra.” Dag says.
“Maybe we could spare a bag or two of each. More coffee and sugar would be nice too.” I say.
“Did you trade the canned stuff?” Dag asks.
“You canned them good?” Asks the smith.
“I eat them!” Dag says, put out a little.
“You'll get coffee and sugar with replacement jars, rings and lids, new.” The smith says. “The wife didn't get much canned last year.”
“Done then! And some help?” I ask.
“Second eldest, don't like working the forge much and a younger brother and his twin sister. They need to broaden their horizons and be gone for a while.”
“They in trouble?”
“Nope and want to keep it that way. They need to be older before they pair off.”
“No worries about that back home, ours are way too young.”
“Hope your right. You leaving in the morning?”
“Seems like the thing to do.” Dag says.
“I'll send the kids with supper and the gear, then.”
Dag and I thank him and unload what was traded. The Blacksmith smile at the selection of canned goods. The bags of gypsum made a small stack. The need for more bags was mentioned. The smith had two bundles he gave us. We put the stock in the coral, tossing some hay for them. I secured the chicken cages, feed the sheep and watered them. The kids came with canning stuff, sugar and coffee. A small bag of tobacco was there too. I bumped a shin on a beer keg.
“Dag the two kegs of beer.” I say.
“Could you get your father?” Dag asks the cute, twin sister, all of fifteen or sixteen.
The girl runs off to get her father.
“How did you forget about the beer?” I ask Dag.
“How well did it travel?” He asks.
“You know I haven't tried it!”
“Easy Res!”
The smith returns with supper born on younger feet. Lets get comfortable while we eat.” The smith says filling a cup with yeasty beer.
Now we get down to some swapping. We were to keep all the spare barley and plant as much as we can. More sugar, coffee and tobacco was given for the kegs of beer. Keg staves, hoops and ends were offered. Asked used kegs, instead.
Got three used and scalded. A pick and shovel was given to help dig out the gypsum and salt.
“It needs to rest before trying.” Says the Blacksmith, Hammarskjold. “Just call me Ham or Hammer.” He smiles.
“Thats why we didn't try it.” Dag says.
“You like hard liquor, spirits?” Ham asks.
“We do, but the wives,,,”
“traded the still for supplies.” Dag finishes.
“Ah yes, mans burden, the wife.” Ham nods. “I think I can provide a small used still that is gathering dust.”
“Does it have a dent on the side, about so long?” Dag asks.
“I believe it does.”
“Dad's old still!” I say.
“Sounds like it.”
The stew and corn bread is long gone as we continue to talk with some beer. The young help are sleeping under a wagon. Tobacco smoke drifts away. Ham bids us good night going off to sleep.
“It seems we'll have to be back sooner than we thought.”
“Fair trading it has been. Maybe better next time.”
“Sleep, Dag.”
“Night.”
Morning starts with hot coffee, black, cornbread, gingersnaps and milk. A sharp tongued woman get the youngsters ready to go. Dag and I have to hurry to be ready. Coffee and cornbread was nice but a fresh gingersnap was heaven. The three get hugs and kisses at the last instant and were off, heading home.
We stopped at the crick bridge to make it better. Two logs provide a curb at the edges while packed dirt tightened the split wood deck. All the bags Ham gave us, let us move the dirt quickly. A good lunch finished the stop at the crick bridge. We pushed on home after that, not stopping to improve anything more.
“Have to work on the bog fords when we go back.” Dag reminds me as he just misses a cut off stump.
“Better bring extra wheels!”
“You better whittle more spokes then.”
“Do what we have to, like always.”
“Yep.”
More latter, maybe.
bdpf
bdpf:
:welcome:
Old Gummy here, to vent a little!
Saved my nickles and bought a new computer, for a long time, years. :cray:
I received the wrong computer, darn it! :hysteric:
Spent days setting it up to run D2 LOD & CE MOD. :sarcastic: :cray: :skull:
D2 LOD has problems, running on newer computers. :oops:
Now I have to wait for the vender to decide what to do. :diablo: :girl_werewolf: :suicide: :BangHead:
:wece:
and we shall over come all problems, by hook or crook. :s513: :3some: :bangin:
Done venting for now. Hope to be on line soon, fingers crossed.
bye
bdpf
ChaosEmpire:
Hi
you have to options, try to start d2 ce 100times, until it starts, as we all have the issue, or set up a virtual machine with windows xp, its fast enough normally on new computers
for win7 microsoft has offered a pre configured win xp environment for free, and as far as i remember you can also download the virtual pc soft from them for free
so a computer inside your compouter is the easiest solution i think
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