So after enjoying a good swim, hunting Huron is hard work, I go and check on the guard I left on look out. WHAT!!! He hasn't been watching or guarding. He is taking pictures of dead trees. What is what the dead trees, they aren't as good as live ones to lift a leg on. So after chewing him out, literally, I put my nose in the air and find our way back to my house.
I have to keep stopping to see if he is keeping up every forty feet or so. Leave him alone for a moment and he will get lost, probably wind up tied to a burning pole in a Huron camp. I came across the famous Brownen Arches, serving up more than 8 leg lifts a day.
After many stops and waits while he catches up with me we finally arrive back at my house. I send him in to make us some lunch as punishment for falling down on his guard duties and I went to lay down under the table. Bzzzzz
What? What's that? Bzzzz. Now I'm on full alert. Bzzzz, Bzzzz. Oh no, a killer bumblebee attack. I raced inside and hide, yelling at him to close the screen door. He looks out – moron. Don't look, close the door. Its a full scale attack.
After many scalp raising looks by the bumble bees, we repelled the last of the bumblebees. There were so many, I think I saw at least one. So instead of sitting outside where I could tell him of my famous tracking abilities in the wilds, I have to hide in the bedroom and avoid all visual images of that nasty bumblebee. Life is tough out here in the wilderness, but know this; I Jack Chingachgook am the last of the Welsh Mohicans.
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