Posted by Bent Twigg on April 12, 2000 at 14:37:02:
Ohhhhhhhh, moan, groan. I daresay there's not an inch of my trunk or limbs that's not bruised or cut somewhere. Knots in muscles I didn't even know I had. Creak every time I move. Out of shape, I guess, but then how often do I have occasion to run a gauntlet these days? Held up pretty well, all things considered, I'd say. These Hurons sure know how to put on a nasty gauntlet party. But I'll show them what a real man's made of. Sure a stroke of luck that they wrapped me round with all those leaves and vines and shoved me into a hollow log to sleep. Of course, they wouldn't know that the Twiggs find a hollow log as comfortable as a goosedown mattress and been using leaf poultices to heal wounds for centuries. Discovered it in that family tree book. Sorry that book got sunk in the bottom of the creek. It was a real eye-opener.
Now, what're they doing? Looks like they're breaking up camp and in a mighty big hurry, too. Sounds like another stroke of luck. If we're on the trail, it's not like they're thinkin' of burning me at the stake or liftin' my scalp - at least not just yet. Wonder what they expect me to travel in with all my clothes stripped off and no boots on my feet? Hmmmm, here comes one of those beeee-u-tiful Indian maidens with what I hope're some clothes. Thank you, Miss. I'm mighty grateful.
Let's see, what've we got here? Old hunting shirt with a few fringes hanging off one shoulder. Oh, well. Breechcloth and moccasins. Good start. - - - - Hey, where's the rest of the outfit? - - - That's it? No trousers or nothin'? Well, at least untie my hands so I can get on what's here. What? - - - you're gonna dress me? Now just wait a cottonpickin' minute here, young lady! (blush, stammer) Uh, okay. I see your tomahawk, yes I do. No argument from me, nosiree bob. (*Whatever would Miss Marcia say if she could see this?*)
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