54ball
62 Cal.
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I thought I would share my adventure last weekend at Fort Toulouse.
This year the woods walk was put on by the Indians or Native Americans if you prefer.
Our 1760 mission, escort the Mortar of Oakchoy or Yaha Tustinagi the wolf warrior, a Creek Indian Tustanagi "lead warrior" of Oakchoy and agent of the French, to North Georgia.
Once there, the Mortar would try to convince the Cherokee to war on the British and ally with the French.
We had five patrols of four men each. Our personas were French Marines or scouts. My 1814 group had to wear our clothes a little different but I think we pulled it off OK.
Each team had to be versed in Creek language and know basic things like names of animals like Pen-wuv for Turkey E-joe for deer.
We also had to know words like En-hasse for friend and the meaning of colors like Lus-tie for black-death, Cat-ie for Red-power and Hot-kie for White-purity.
Most importantly we will face hostile forces. Creek, Cherokee, South Carolina British Rangers and most likely Chickasaw. Death may be behind every bush. We must protect our envoy at all cost.
We study the plans and check our equipment.
Here we are except for our captain or ca-pee-tan just before our mission.
We begin our journey. We loose some points because some of us lack extra shoes and have no provision to repair them. Except for that we are equipped for the long journey.
Very early in our mission we encounter some SC Rangers and we fight it out.
Here we are after our encounter making our way through the wilds.
If you look close you can see a horrible scene. Just in front of the pointman's foot, is a white object. It is the thigh bone of some unfortunate soul. Ahead at the base of yonder tree is the rest of his mortal remains in a Uniform of a French Marine. Look closely and you can make out an arrow stuck in the tree.
A ambush sight!
Approaching this carnage we see something to our left. We are very aware. We are in hostile territory. We are diligent and ready, especially seeing what happened here to this poor soul, our ally.
An armed Indian pops out from our left who is quickly dispatched.
At least we will not share the fate of the soul who wore the French Coat.
We go further and shoot down a marker post and win the Baton Rouge, red stick or red war club. Here we are cutting the post.
Just after we cut the post, we get ambushed by the Chickasaw a little further up the trail.
One by one we are eliminated to the sound of trade gun fire and war whoops.
Just out of sight are the Chickasaw marksmen. In front of us are our Chickasaw targets to our left are targets that represent us. One by one we are eliminated.
Hopefully we made a good count of ourselves.
We then do some frontier skills and our mission was over.
We know we have done well. Our shooting, excellent, our knowledge of native language and culture, superb.
We head back to the Fort to await the results of the other four patrols.
Here are the Indians with a buddy.
It is the Yaha Tustanagi, the Mortar, the old Wolf warrior himself.
The fellow we shot at the skeleton Ambush sight!
Now we see he has his gun pointed to the ground and in his left hand, a clutch of white feathers.
Yep the Indians got us.
He had three holes in him. Three teams shot him out right including us. One team flashed a pan on him and did not shoot a second time. So Four teams pulled the trigger on him.
We were second at 1.5 points from the lead. If we had not shot him, we would have won by 8.5 points.
We were sick. Not because of the competition but because we shot a "friend".
It really makes you think about the mindset you have concerning firearms in tense situations, about how you can not see the obvious.
We were looking for an enemy and found one, even though the Indians made sure we knew the Muscogee and Mobilian word for friend.
It really makes you think.
Honestly for me it made me sick inside.
I really want to thank the Native Americans at Toulouse for a great event.
This year the woods walk was put on by the Indians or Native Americans if you prefer.
Our 1760 mission, escort the Mortar of Oakchoy or Yaha Tustinagi the wolf warrior, a Creek Indian Tustanagi "lead warrior" of Oakchoy and agent of the French, to North Georgia.
Once there, the Mortar would try to convince the Cherokee to war on the British and ally with the French.
We had five patrols of four men each. Our personas were French Marines or scouts. My 1814 group had to wear our clothes a little different but I think we pulled it off OK.
Each team had to be versed in Creek language and know basic things like names of animals like Pen-wuv for Turkey E-joe for deer.
We also had to know words like En-hasse for friend and the meaning of colors like Lus-tie for black-death, Cat-ie for Red-power and Hot-kie for White-purity.
Most importantly we will face hostile forces. Creek, Cherokee, South Carolina British Rangers and most likely Chickasaw. Death may be behind every bush. We must protect our envoy at all cost.
We study the plans and check our equipment.
Here we are except for our captain or ca-pee-tan just before our mission.
We begin our journey. We loose some points because some of us lack extra shoes and have no provision to repair them. Except for that we are equipped for the long journey.
Very early in our mission we encounter some SC Rangers and we fight it out.
Here we are after our encounter making our way through the wilds.
If you look close you can see a horrible scene. Just in front of the pointman's foot, is a white object. It is the thigh bone of some unfortunate soul. Ahead at the base of yonder tree is the rest of his mortal remains in a Uniform of a French Marine. Look closely and you can make out an arrow stuck in the tree.
A ambush sight!
Approaching this carnage we see something to our left. We are very aware. We are in hostile territory. We are diligent and ready, especially seeing what happened here to this poor soul, our ally.
An armed Indian pops out from our left who is quickly dispatched.
At least we will not share the fate of the soul who wore the French Coat.
We go further and shoot down a marker post and win the Baton Rouge, red stick or red war club. Here we are cutting the post.
Just after we cut the post, we get ambushed by the Chickasaw a little further up the trail.
One by one we are eliminated to the sound of trade gun fire and war whoops.
Just out of sight are the Chickasaw marksmen. In front of us are our Chickasaw targets to our left are targets that represent us. One by one we are eliminated.
Hopefully we made a good count of ourselves.
We then do some frontier skills and our mission was over.
We know we have done well. Our shooting, excellent, our knowledge of native language and culture, superb.
We head back to the Fort to await the results of the other four patrols.
Here are the Indians with a buddy.
It is the Yaha Tustanagi, the Mortar, the old Wolf warrior himself.
The fellow we shot at the skeleton Ambush sight!
Now we see he has his gun pointed to the ground and in his left hand, a clutch of white feathers.
Yep the Indians got us.
He had three holes in him. Three teams shot him out right including us. One team flashed a pan on him and did not shoot a second time. So Four teams pulled the trigger on him.
We were second at 1.5 points from the lead. If we had not shot him, we would have won by 8.5 points.
We were sick. Not because of the competition but because we shot a "friend".
It really makes you think about the mindset you have concerning firearms in tense situations, about how you can not see the obvious.
We were looking for an enemy and found one, even though the Indians made sure we knew the Muscogee and Mobilian word for friend.
It really makes you think.
Honestly for me it made me sick inside.
I really want to thank the Native Americans at Toulouse for a great event.
