PREVIOUSLY: The battle went on for some time—the bad guys just didn’t seem to want to expose themselves.
That caused their fire to miss—by a wide margin.
On the other hand—both Farkleberry and Silverthorn were expert shots (who knew? We’ve never seen them in combat—GENTLE READER—right?) and were taking their toll on the hapless bad guys.
One by one they fell—yet, they were persistent.
In the end—all were either dead, or dying.
There’s an unexpected moral to this story—DON’T MESS WITH FARKLETHORN!
They climbed back into Hiram’s 1958 Ford F100 4×4—and drove off into the sunset!
Just like the heroes of all good westerns.
Season 15—Adventure 3—NIPIGON—Episode 1—Scene 1… At the Canadian Border… As they pulled into crossing—Hiram and Medlar couldn’t help but notice the Mountie in front bore a striking resemblance to Debra Wennen Miller—and how HUGE a dog she had at her side.
The Mountie in front bore a striking resemblance
When she came up to the truck’s window both Hiram and Medlar presented their passports and their firearms licenses—both US and Canada’s licenses, “I see you gentlemen have been here before—eh?”
“Yes,” Hiram replied, “Every year for the past twenty years we go to the Lake Nipigon Ojibwe Reservation to visit my cousins.”
“Why the permits?
“Our annual competition—this year I hope to win back my championship.”
It wasn’t a question.
Episode 1—Scene 2… 20 miles south of the Canadian border… Reverend Rupert Festus Wilbur and crew had separated—with the weapons carrier separated from the car and its two native Canadians, Mick and Dorcas, headed for back roads on which he could cross into Canada without passing through the manned border crossing—with his load of weapons.
“This is always fun,” Mick said to his helper, Dorcas, “It just never gets old.”
“It just never gets old.”
“It sure doesn’t. I can’t remember the last time we passed through the border station.”
The old rough-riding Dodge-built weapons carrier was made for roads like this. Steep hills, unbridged streams, no villages or towns. Even the twenty miles cross-country where there were no roads or trails—100 miles of torture just to slip into and out of Canada.
While the US Border Patrol covered the roads, they didn’t bother looking where there weren’t roads or trails.