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THE LOST CANTERBURY TALE
by: Steven G. Trosper
Deep in the
basement of the English Building at Oxford University, hidden away for
many years, an unpublished manuscript from Chaucer's CANTERBURY TALES
was discovered. There are two schools of thought as
to why this tale was not included.
The first school holds, Chaucer, like all writers
had squandered the Publishers's advance and waited until the last
minute to write the book. In the process of hurrying to get
the manuscript to the publisher, by the due date, he simply failed to
include it.
The other school holds this Tale is titled with a
man's name. While all the other Tales were titled as the
teller's occupation; such as "THE MILLER'S TALE", "THE KNIGHT'S TALE",
or "THE NUN'S TALE". This Tale simply does not fit the format and
was left out.
Here, for the first time, for your reading enjoyment
is that lost Tale. Translated into modern
English. A Tale of a man named Nigel who traps beaver in
the Rocky Mountains.
NIGEL'S TALE
"Upon reaching me twenty-first birthday, I came into
an inheritance of eighty-eight pounds and six pence. In the
newest issue of HUNTER-TRADER-TRAPPER was an advertisement to trap
beaver with Kit Carson and Jim Bridger in the Rocky
Mountains. Write them care of the Hawken Rifle Shop,
in Saint Louis, Missouri-Ewe, Ess, Aye.
I left England headed for the Colonies aboard the
H.M.S. BEAGLE. I had many stimulating conversations with
Mister Charles Darwin. This was before he published his
book, ON THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.
I came ashore at a place called Kitty Hawk, North
Carolina. There I met the Wright Brothers, Orville and
Wilbur. They were kind enough to fly me to Saint Louis,
Missouri in their aeroplane. As we flew into the city, we
flew through the Arch. I got directions to the Hawken Rifle
Shop and there I met Kit Carson and Jim Bridger.
They rode Mustangs, but told me we ought to have
Broncos for the winter in the Rockies. We rode the Mustangs hard
to Detroit, Michigan to Henry Ford's ranch. We picked out
Broncos for each of us. I picked a black Bronco and named
him Midnight. We rode our Broncos hard to the Rockies.
I was given a map of where my trapline was and also
four Helfrich 750 Eliminator and two Newhouse number 4
traps. Also, I was given two four ounce jars of Lenon's
Beaver lure. Jim Bridger told me if I can not catch any
beaver with Lenon's lure, it meant only one thing-there were no beaver
around. I got the six traps out and got back to base camp
later in the afternoon.
The next morning there was a foot of snow on the
ground and I thought, "My, but winter sure does come quick to the
shinin' mountains." Me Bronco got through the snow with
ease-just like Jim Bridger told me it would.
I caught between four and six beaver
everyday. In fact, Jim Bridger and Kit Carson began to call
me "Plenty of Beaver". Which I liked better than what they
first called me. Because I had not proven meself they
called me "Pork Eater". Referring to the fact I was fed
salt pork and not any Buffalo, or Antelope meat. I had to
prove I could hold me own.
There were three Indian women whose job it was to
skin, flesh, and dry the beaver furs. I was bringing in so
many beavers each day, the women called me "Slave Driver".
They were beginning to demand more pay. Kit Carson told me
the women's extra pay was going to come out of my take of the profits.
One day in late January, I had just gotten back from
checking me traps and Jim Bridger asked if I would be interested in
trapping some coyote. I told him I would have a go at
it. We rode our Broncos hard to Iowa to a ranch owned by a
woman everyone called MsCat. She with the pink
boots. MsCat had over a million acres of ranch land in Iowa
and was having problems with coyotes killing her sheep.
I was given a four ounce jar of Lenon's Coyote lure
and five Helfrich 550 Eliminators. I headed out to set for
coyote. We began to catch coyotes immediately.
The Indian women were not too pleased with having to skin the
coyotes. They said it made their hands hurt, so I was
assigned to help them out. I would come back from the ‘line
with four or five coyotes each day. Then I had to skin and
flesh the coyotes I caught. The women would stretch the
pelts.
When Spring came, we loaded up all the pelts and
rode our Broncos hard to Saint Louie. We sold our furs to
Maas, Steffen Fur House. I paid Jim Bridger and Kit Carson
the rest of what I owned them and met the Wright
Brothers. As we flew out of Saint Louie, flying
through the arch.
When we got to Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, The HMS
BEAGLE was no where to be found. I was
stranded! I mean, I enjoyed me stay in America, but I
wished to go home. A terrible feeling of homesickness
overcame me; I felt blue.
I happened to meet Paul Dobbins, who lived in North
Carolina. I told Paul about me predicament and he offered
to let me have his ticket on the LUSITANIA. Paul
Dobbins told me he had to appear at a Senate Committee
investigating unfair trade practices in the trapping industry. It
seems Paul Dobbins had cornered the fox urine market and the committee
was interested in his activities.
He also told me the reason all the fox books written
during the last fur boom seemed to be a repeat of all the others was
because he wrote the book. He sent the manuscript to
various supply dealers with instructions to come up with a catchy
title. He also advised them to take several pictures of a
dirt hole set. Plus, if they should happen to catch a fox,
take several pictures of the fox. Some from the north, some
from the south and also east and west of the fox. Even take some
of the pictures from near ground level. This would give
several pictures they could put in the book to make it look like they
had caught several fox.
Paul Dobbins also told me he was not interested in
trappers catching fox, he wanted them to buy all the fox urine they
could afford. This is the reason all the books recommended
the use of fox urine to hide human odor. "It is all
marketing. Create a need and fill it." Was how
Paul Dobbins explained it to me.
He told me he was moving toward selling fox urine to
organic gardeners to keep rabbits out of their gardens.
They were willing to pay over seventeen dollars for eight ounces of the
stuff.
I mentioned it would have no effect on
rabbits. After all, they are in the same area foxes
are. Paul Dobbins said, "If the rubes, er, er, organic
gardeners think it works, who is he to deny them the stuff?"
I asked if he was worried about appearing before the
Committee. Paul Dobbins said, "If I can't pull the wool
over a politician's eyes, then I have no business trapping fur-bearing
animals."
Paul Dobbins let me use his Pinto to get to New York
City. I rode the Pinto hard and stabled it at the place
Paul Dobbins told me to. He was going to take the train from Dee
Cee, after he took care of the politicians, up to New York City to
retrieve his Pinto. I got to the gang plank with but
fifteen minutes before departure.
A couple of evenings later, in me Stateroom, I
counted the money I was going home with. It was ninety-eight
pounds and six pence. As you may remember, I started out
with eighty-eight pounds and six pence. I was going home
with a profit of ten quid! Not to mention the places
I had seen. The people I had met, and the adventures I had.
You may remember a German U Boat, with but one
torpedo hit the LUSITANIA and she sunk like a rock. Here
Nigel stopped talking. The silence was unbearable and the
Nun asked, What happened next?
Nigel answered, "Why, I drowned.
There was much knee slapping and hearty belly
laughs. Reaching Canterbury, everyone agreed Nigel's tale
was the best one."