This guy and his In . . .Native American, half-bree . . .mixed-race son were out exercising their rights to bear arms in thick wet woods that are more swamp than sound footing. The guy and his kid and his son's pal stalk deer with large bore flintlock rifles, no doubt contemporary to the Presidency of Andy Jackson. They come on big eight pointer buck and nail him and send his kid's pal back to camp for help lugging the fallen fawn.
In the mean time, the boys at the camp are happily packing up pelts of all kinds, beaver, elk, mink and fox. They are happy to be returning to civilization and joking with guy quality hijinks, when all of a sudden a buck-ass naked guy cries out and he's bleeding like stuck antelope.
All of sudden arrows whiz into all and sundry and trappers are dropping like InJu. . .Native Americans in an old Gene Autry movie.
The guys exercise their 2nd Amendment rights and return fire like concealed carry guy in all of them NRA ads.
The guy and his kid hear the shooting and leave the carcass to Nature's timely disunion of cells.
Then the brawl gets going and guys and In. . . . Indigeneous land owners are swinging like saloon doors on pay day.
"Get to the Boat!"
Those who have made Nine First Fridays, wear Our Lady's Scapular, or are pretty damn fast and good their mitts make it to boat.
Trouble is Inju . . . Amerinds, to use the latest portmanteau nomenclature with regard to Indiens d'Amérique have the river covered on both sides and are not in the mood to hear Paleface say, " It is time to sit down and begin a National Conversation on Race."
Nah!
The boys are down to a score and change of voyageurs; actually they ain't voyageurs as voyageurs are French and these guys are white and black Americans in the same boat.
The guy with half-bre . . .mixed race son is the chief guide in this unlucky band of rugged-teers and the other hog with the big nuts is a guy that always says, " Watch out for 'Tree-En Words' meaning Redsk. . .Aboriginal Peoples and obvious hater who's gonna hate.
Not so the other guy who looks like Lenny DiCaprio with whiskers.
Well, the real boss, who the trappers call Captain and is the guy who signs the checks, decides that his group will go the way the guy who ain't racist says to go and sends him out to scout round.
Bad times. The guy comes upon a couple of bear cubs, cute as the dickens, and Momma Bear madder than a Kennedy Park Mom at little Maeve's third grade softball game with Mike Cullen as umpire. Momma charges le grand écrivain américain and goes to town on him from crotch to noggin; turns the poor guy over and road maps his neck, back and rump with her massive claws.
The fight goes all Halloween ,Part Two with not just one but two returns to give Lenny the battered husband coup de grace.
Mr. Climate Change manages to yank a knife from his belt and give the bitch bear a couple of sharp ones and the two go rolling down a hill - Momma Bear todt and Lenny Alle Beat Scheiße.
The Brigade come looking for Lenny and find him. Some want to polish him off Fitzgerald (racist Hater) and his toadies and the Captain, young Uncas and his buddy doctored and sew Lenny up and bring him along. He's too banged up to travel and so they decide to leave him with two guys until he dies, or get's well. As If!
Tough.
Not as tough as Jigs Donahue, but tough.
Fitzy and his snitches are left to deal with Lenny.
All this time the Indi. . . the Lamanites are trying to find the Chief's daughter, taken by . . .white men. They go to the French and get the usual Froggie snotty treatment and continue to make sure that the tribe pees in the Wheaties of the white racist kidnapping American Exceptionalists. Lenny too.
Fitzy and the guys take care to cover their tracks.
Lenny is buried and the kid ditched in the snow.
Lenny ain't dead and no one is going to pull the old Ray Milland on him.
He pounds himself up and out of the piney crypt and drags his mortal husk around the American West, until a friendly Red. . .Native Landsmann helps him and shares some left over buffalo that a pack of wolves are trying to get and the Inj . . . Good Samaritan is later grabbed by the French and hanged.
You see the Frogs were the ones who grabbed the chief's daughter and had their wicked way with her and the Chief and his boys should be grateful that Lenny helped her, but they go ILM on him and shove him off a cliff.
Here I started to get sleepy and dozed off, but all I missed was that Man Called Horse stuff, where, nothing, but nothing will keep Lenny from exacting revenge on Fitzy.
That's pretty much what I took away from the most important Presidential Debate since Lincoln said nix on a box for Steve Douglas in Galesburg.
Shameful Donald Trump v. Shameless Hillary - shameful can snap out of it, but shameless is permanent. Hell, Hillary still thinks slaughtering babies is as natural as a Momma bear kicking Lenny DiCaprio to the curb.
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“A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear.” - Roman orator Marcus Tullius Cicero
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