Free An Embarrassment of Riches by James Howard Kunstler Page B

silkworms, he turned an ashen shade of green.
    â€œI’d prefer to stopper mere jars o’water than grapple with some two-ton son o’Satan,” he declared with a distasteful air and handed the portrait back to the blonde-headed nimrod.
    â€œI can tell ye this much about your strange beasts o’the forest,” the Woodsman addressed us in a yarn-spinning tone. “Not ten days ago did I lodge a night at the trading station of Francis Bottomley on the junction of the Ohio and Dismal Rivers, an hundred miles from here. There I met two other men, Messers Jukes and Roundtree, whom the said Bottomley had given an order upon for two teeth of a large beast that they were bringing from the falls of the Ohio for delivery to the Ohio Company at Fort Harner. These teeth and the bones of three large beasts were found in a salt lick upon a small creek that runs into the Ohio fifteen miles below the mouth of the Great Miamee—”
    â€œDost hear, Sammy,” Uncle interrupted excitedly, “hard by the Great Miamee!”
    â€œI hear, brother,” said I, affecting disdain at his ferment. “For I am deaf no longer.”
    â€œDid you say you were cured from deafness?” the Woodsman himself joined the digression. “And that the two of you are brothers?”
    â€œWhat…?” said I.
    â€œAre we not all brothers here in the wild?” Bilbo remarked deviously.
    â€œSave those that are piratical scum,” I observed, hoping this Woodsman might infer my meaning and the nature of our predicament, but he merely stared across the fire in perplexity. Bilbo thereupon made pretense to guffaw, as though I had launched a jest, and poked me in my ribs. I looked down at my side and saw that the instrument of this poking was not his elbow, but the muzzle of his ever-ready pistol. The hammer was cocked and it was aimed straight at my liver.
    â€œPray continue, Woodsman,” Bilbo importuned him.
    â€œDo I have your complete attention?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” we all said. Neddy affirmed with a bark. This Woodsman’s vanity was extreme, I thought. He cleared his throat.
    â€œI was permitted a look at these teeth by Jukes and Roundtree. Each was better than four pounds in weight, appearing to be the farthest tooth in the jaw, a molar, but the size of a loaf o’bread and all acrinkle on top. It had the look of fine ivory about it. Jukes assured me that the rib bones of the largest of these beasts were eleven feet long, and the skull bone six feet across the forehead, and the other bones in proportion, and that there were several other teeth upon the site, some of which he called ‘horns’ that were upward of five feet long, and as much as a man could well carry. One of these he hid at a creek some distance from the place, lest the Indians should carry it away.”
    â€œâ€™Tis a mastodon,” Uncle declared.
    â€œWhy, I reckon ’twould be somebody’s master, but not mine, ho ho,” the Woodsman joked. He and Bilbo shared in this drollery a minute.
    â€œAt Philadelphia,” said I, “Mr. Charles Willson Peale has erected the skeleton of just such a beast as you describe in his museum.”
    â€œAh, Philadelphia,” Uncle sighed, wistfully, thinking of his home, “Owl’s Crossing…”
    The Woodsman flinched and glanced overhead.
    â€œOwls? Crossing?” he said, evincing much anxiety. At that very moment, deep in the night-shrouded forest, came the shriek of a great horned owl (Bubo virginianus) . It certainly made a fellow’s skin crawl. All our party were visibly nonplussed. Bilbo, of course, affected a nervous cackle. Neddy cocked his ear to the night. The Woodsman sat erect, sniffing the chill air.
    â€œSometimes you can smell ’em,” he stated mysteriously.
    â€œSmell what?” Bilbo asked. “Owls?”
    â€œNo. Injuns.”
    â€œDo you smell any now?”
    â€œNo,” the