Alone into the headwaters of the Grand River

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KHickam
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Joined: Fri Apr 25, 2008 9:26 pm
Real Name: Keith Hickam
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Location: Waco, TX/Timber Lake, SD
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Alone into the headwaters of the Grand River

Post by KHickam » Thu Feb 20, 2014 6:32 pm

Grandbeaver.JPG
30th of August 1813 -Moon of Ripe Plums.

The old trapper struggled to regain his feet, but every attempt was met by dizzying pain and the foul sour taste of bile as he vomited the contents of his stomach at every attempt. He felt the blood oozing from the wounds on his face and the pain in his neck and shoulders were excruciating. His pistol lay nearby, and most of his other gear was gathered slowly - painstakingly so - as he lay on his back and used his strong legs to scoot on his back feeling for his equipment - he first found his canteen - the straps had been ripped off by the force of the fall from the horse but it was in good shape and held almost a quart of water. He next found his belt knife and tucked it back in his belt, he was tired now, he needed to rest, the hot prairie sun was merciless cooking the tender skin that had been torn and scraped by the fall - he hadn't found his hat yet so he covered his face with his long hunting shirt and fell asleep. He was awakened some time later by the gentle nudging and licking of his trusted trail companion. The dog was a small terrier mix that had been his constant companion for almost 3 yrs now and he was comforted that he would not die out here on the buffalo prairies alone. He knew he had taken a hard fall and likely had a broken neck - he gathered some equipment - his shooting pouch and horn and equipment belt and tucked them under his head easing some of the pain in his neck.

He could not lift his head to see where the sun was but the long shadows and dipping tempertures told him it was near sundown - he had been laying there for 6 hours or so, and the prairie wolves may have located him, their barks and howls were uncomfortably close - he reached for this big horse pistol that lay nearby - it was still serviceable but he had loaded it with small shot for small game not for wolves, men or other game - he needed to find his rifle - the barks and howls of the prairie wolves had grown closer and only the growling and barking of the dog may have kept them at bay for a time while he lay there unconscious. He struggled to his knees - the pain in his neck was sickening, like a white hot poker had been placed against the base of his head - he was overcome once again and sank back to the ground - panting and in pain - he knew he had to try again. Determined to succeed he steeled himself against the pain and dizziness he knew would come when he lifted himself to his knees. He fought hard against the wave of pain and nausea - and after a time - it subsided.

He crawled forward trying to keep his head in a comfortable position feeling with his hands in the prairie grass to find the familar walnut stocked trade rifle he carried - first one direction and then another direction - finally on his third try he found the gun laying in the grass about 20 feet from where he had been laying. He clutched the heavy gun to his chest and crawled back to where the rest of gear lay. He got back and layed on his side and examined the gun - he had expected to find it broken and was pleased to see that although it needed a new flint it was undamaged.

He reached for his shooting pouch to find extra flints that he kept there and found that during the wild ride - his possible bag had come un buttoned and he had lost his small vial of bear oil, extra springs, and spring vise for the gun and his turn screw - he felt around and found his turn screw and was able to take the flint out of his belt pistol and fit it in the cock of his rifle. He had found his hat on the search for his rifle and lay down with the rifle next to him and the hat over his head to sleep.

As the sun went down and the temperature dropped his wrapped his hunting shirt tightly around him = hoping to conserve some warmth in the coming cold and damp night. Shortly, after the sun went down - he heard a snort - in the twilight he spied the black horse had come closer and although still spooked and snorting at the unfamiliar heap on the ground - the old trapper called to him - he could see his bedroll, extra water, and saddlebags were still on the horse where he had tied them. He took up his rifle - but the pain and lack of mobility would not let him have a sure shot - he thought if he could get his bedroll, food and other possibles he might just make it until help arrived after he was missing a day or so. The horse would come no closer and having only one shot - the trapper decided the old horse could have a reprieve.

As he lay there in that state of concsiousness between sleep and wakefulness - his mind drifted back to how it had been a beautiful day to scout the headwaters of the Grand River looking for beaver - He had seen a nice flock of turkeys just before he had left his companion on the two day scout - and about 30 minutes into the ride a fast moving prairie thunderstorm had forced him to take shelter in a grove of cottonwoods. He had observed extensive evidence of beaver in that grove - it had recently been flooded and the cuttings and activity of the beaver had been extensive. Once the rain had subsided he had continued on this journey - abundant ripe plums and chokecherries hunt in great quantity from the lush green trees - the fruit would sustain animals for some time this fall and winter he had thought. Two river crossings had went well, the tracks of cattle, deer, and other animals. High above in the clear blue sky eagles and hawks soared and occasionally dived to capture prey in their sharp talons. He heard the snake before he saw it- and the dark horse bucked and reared throwing him off balance and took off he held on until he could no longer do so and he landed in a huge heap on the prairie shooting pain and nausea overcame him - he was roused once again by the dog curling up next to him in a vain attempt to keep him warm.

The temperature continued to drop and he was shaking like a maple leaf in a windstorm and knew he must find a way to save himself - because he did not believe he could last another day or two on the prairie before his companions came looking for him He knew there was a small indian homestead about 6 miles away - if he could walk or crawl there he might get help. He planned to try at first light - through the miserable night he thought the best route out and steeled himself for the try.

The dawn was cold and damp - as soon as the sun peeked over the bluffs - he struggled to his feet and could not - he decided to crawl 50 yards or so to an old corral and perhaps pull himself to his feet he crawled slowly - pushing his heavy trade gun before him to the corral - he grasped the first rail and slowly brought himself up to his feet - using his rifle as a walking stick he began the slow walk out - planting the rifle in front of him and placing one foot then the other forward - in this manner he was able to stay on his feet when the waves of dizziness and pain almost overtook him and caused him to sink back to the ground. 1 hour passed and the steps blurred into each other - he stayed on game trails the entire time - about mid morning he rested for an hour or so - almost failing to regain his feet - in the wake of this he determined to never stop until he got to the cabin and hopefully help. The journey took hours but he finally got to the camp and a friendly Aricara - loaded him in a wagon and took him to where he could get medical help. The ordeal was over.

Dan'l Hickham 4th of September 1813

PS It was a long trip and the person that helped me was native american from the Aricara tribe he took me in his pickup to Isabel where my son Daniel met us and took me to Mobridge Regional Hospital - I suffered a badly smashed toe and a fractured C2 Vertebra

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