Good grief, it ages me all the more to know you weren’t born until 1983. Are you even old enough to buy yourself a beer?
I didn’t know all that business about Moses Picea and the chiefs conference, and I sure appreciate being able to see that photograph. It’s proof to me once again that you’re the right man for the job. I doubt most would have been attentive enough in their reading to come across the name, or knowledgeable enough to recognize it for what it was. It is no easy chore, reading those diaries that closely. The Colonel’s handwriting was neat enough, but so small and crowded onto the page that I always had to use a magnifying glass. And some of it has suffered from water damage and the like. I admire your diligence.
I enjoyed telling one of the nurses about your museum up there. All those strangers coming and going from my room in the hospital, and she was the only one who would give me the time of day. Most of those gals were too busy gossiping to even notice there was an old coot in the bed they were changing. But this one girl was a sweetheart. Actually looked me in the eye and talked to me, rather than around me. Seems she’s planning a trip up to Alaska this summer with her boyfriend, going to see the sights. I envy her, and told her so. I also told her she should swing by Alpine and say hello to your museum. Sounds like she won’t be much near your neck of the woods, though. I forget just how big that state is.
I’ve been meaning to ask you?—?you’ve mentioned a fellow by the name of Isaac in a number of your letters. Does he have something to do with the museum? It’s no matter except my own curiosity.
I’ve hired a neighbor kid to help me clean out the crawl space. Along with a lot of useless junk, he brought up a rusty cookie tin filled with coins, stick pins and the like. That’s where I found this brass button. It belonged to the Colonel, although I can’t be sure it made the trip to Alaska.
I’m still thinking on how to get all these artifacts up to you. It’s going to take some doing. For now, I thought you might enjoy this little token.
Sincerely,
Walt
Lieut. Col. Allen Forrester
June 4, 1885
Ceeth Hwya has bestowed upon me his moose-hide tunic. It is an impressive garment, beaded with dyed porcupine quills & dentalium shells. When I went to pull it on over my head, however, we found that it was too small for my larger frame. I wrestled absurdly to remove it, which provoked laughter from all, myself included.
One of his wives is altering it with panels of hide along the sides, an opening down the front in the manner of a white man’s jacket, so it will better fit me. It is a fine gift. I hope I managed to communicate my gratitude, both for the gift’s craftsmanship & intention. He says if I wear it, it will earn us safe passage. He indicates its power is of a magical sort. While I do not hold to such notions, it is plausible that the jacket will mark us as under his protection as we encounter other villages.
Ceeth Hwya will not be swayed to accompany us farther north. At long last, however, he has advised us on a route. We are to take the west fork of the Wolverine River, follow it to a lake called Kulgadzi. There we will find a village on its shores.
With hopes of obtaining a map, I showed Ceeth Hwya how to use paper & pencil. He was quite taken with the implements, spent some time drawing different shapes before I induced him to draw the map.
Based on his crude drawing, Kulgadzi appears to be a narrow lake, running east to west. We will be able to obtain canoes from the Indians. I suggested that we would paddle directly across the lake. The tyone says this is ill-advised & that we should instead travel west, taking the long way near the shore of the lake. I cannot discern his reasoning, though we will soon enough see for ourselves.
On the north side of the lake, we will begin our last ascent to the summit.
?—?He says the only living souls in this land belong to the Wolverine People, Samuelson translated.
I asked if this is the tribe’s name.
?—?Not that simple, Colonel. They mean what they say. These are wolverines that take human form. No nastier blend of character, man & wolverine. Ruthless enough to steal your last meal out from under your nose & smart enough to do it.
Fables do not concern me. We will make our way.
?—?Better you than me, the trapper said.
Once we get into the high mountain pass, the tyone says we should not stop for the night. Samuelson says it will be best to camp while we are still down in the trees, then get an early morning start so we can make it through the pass in a long day. If we get caught out at night, he says we should keep moving. Don’t stop to set camp.
Because of the threat of being caught out by a mountain storm?