"Woodcraft and Camping" by George "Nessmuk" Sears Chapter 8: Trekking Solo

 Chapter VIII A TEN DAYS' TRIP IN THE WILDERNESS—GOING IT ALONE

Nessmuk treks for ten days to visit a friend. He says up front that it's not for the faint of heart. 

" I had the decency not to slaughter game for the love of killing, and leave it to rot, or hook large fish that could not be used." Good for you, George. 

Like the earlier chapter with the "OW" this is out of Nessmuk's usual mode, and a little harder to follow. I do like the story about his encounter with the wild hog, which is too long to paste in here.

These know that nature is stern, hard, immovable and terrible in unrelenting cruelty. When wintry winds are out and the mercury far below zero, she will allow her most ardent lover to freeze on her snowy breast without waving a leaf in pity, or offering him a match; and scores of her devotees may starve to death in as many different languages before she will offer a loaf of bread.

(She will give you food, but only if you apply force and know how, he says.)

 He sees a flock of turkeys: "Among them were some of the grandest gobblers I had ever seen, and one magnificent fellow came straight toward me."

I had a whole flock of turkeys wander through my camp site about 6 or 7 one morning. One of the oddest, but coolest things I've ever seen. I heard something scratching around and, thinking it was squirrel bugging the guylines, peaked through the window. Instead I saw a good 10 or 15 turkeys. They picked their way along making little bawks occasionally. 

 I came at length to a stream that I knew must be the south branch of the Muskegon. The main river could scarcely be more than ten miles to the westward, and might be easily reached in one day.

It was time. The meal and pork were nearly gone, sugar and tea were at low ebb, and I was tired of venison; tired anyhow; ready for human speech and human companionship. 

Nessmuk is a people person. This reminds me of one time when we were canoeing down the river. We had a tropical storm at our back, so the river was moving pretty quick, and we came to what was supposed to be a good half day ahead of schedule. We got to the sandbar/island we were supposed to camp out on, and it was a scrubby mess. We decided to just push out and come in a day early.

"Reader, if ever you are tempted to make a similar thoughtless, reckless trip—don't do it." I'd like to do a night or two solo, but ten days is an awful lot.