Part 1

The snow raced nearly horizontally as Hans T. "gizzard eater" Thornpton braved the northern Maine winter in search of his trapline. One by one he collected his specimens as the wind blasted his scarred face, scarcely had he rebated his traps as he noticed a dark lump in the distance, it was not covered in snow like every thing else in the wintry terrain. His curiosity would not allow him to continue back to town until he had seen the cause of this strange object that had remained free of snow. He neared closer, still unsure of what it could be, he dismounted his horse to approach the object, he gently nudged with the butt of his rifle, when suddenly a woman jumped up, clothed in layers of leather and fur and exclaimed " hemea Cloctco themhemie!", which to this day is an un translated language. Then she fell to the snow clad ground never to move again.

Hans was quite surprised and alarmed and he quickly tried to awaken the young woman, but it was futile, she had succumbed to the cold. Hans was about to leave when he heard a faint sound, he stopped and listen again; it was the sound of an infants cry! He went back to the deceased woman, and after removing a few layer of clothing, discovered a little babe, fitted in side a turtle shell of all things. This unusually large shell had been cut at the belly and fitted with hinges and the boy was placed inside. Hans then picked up the boy and returned to town.

That boy was later named Fronzel Neekburn.
To be continued

Close Window