I had started my journey West by myself. Myself and John-bo my trusty steed. John-bo was a donkey. John-bo carried my two wooden packs on each side, day in day out. I walked beside.
For the first seven days of travel I came upon pioneers of all sorts. Some just starting out, some coming out. One day I reached a sign that said: “End of the road. New York back that way. If you’re walking this way you have 15 days until you will reach the next post.”
I knew trading posts were common along these routes.
I checked John-bo’s packs. We had enough rice for four months. I was glad I didn’t have to pack his food too.
It took me a while to get used to the walking. I was used to light stepping through city streets by this time wearing awful fashions I hadn’t really enjoyed. I hadn’t been able to get a proper pair of mukluks until I was well into Iroquois land.
I had walked into a friendly Seneca village who hadn’t been expecting me. I must have slipped past their scouts with my light stepping – not likely. Like I said, they were peaceful.
There were a few other white men there in the village. Some were drunk and chasing women. The Seneca men cringed when we both caught site of one. I think they eyed me suspiciously because of this. I hoped I wouldn’t find this in all the villages I would come along.
I should have taken my long barrel to the drunks. I could tell they wanted me to.
I had kept my long barrel next to me for the first fortnight. I didn’t enjoy walking without it, for fear of the unknown. Perhaps because of laziness I found a slip to hold it on ol’ John-bo.
Ten days after I left Iroquois land, the Seneca, I came upon a line of twelve women and nine men. Only seven married couplets among them and four rascals, each old enough to know which end of the shotgun to look down. They talked a lot and moved slower, though I enjoyed the company. It was nice to not communicate in grunts and gestures.
[note: to read the full epic track my land]