EPISODE ELEVEN - The Shooter and Bear
Pierre Blanche was a career military man from Caen, on the coast of Normandy. As a boy, his father told him how the Coat of Arms of Blanche rode next to William the Conquerer in the battle of Hastings in 1066. The English had just fought off the Vikings and after a forced march had to fight the French. His father had fought in the Americas against the English along the St. Lawrence and came back with a limp from a kneecap being blow off in battle as well as some of his calf and ankle. Jean Paul was a bitter man toward the English and always said it was better to die than be a cripple. By five years of age Pierre was forced to fire flintlocks, in spite of the recoil knocking him to the ground each time he fired the rifle. By eight, Pierre could shoot an acorn off a fence from fifty paces 9 out of 10 times. By twelve the same acorn at 100 paces 10 out of 10 tries. A year later at 13 in the summer of 1700 in Paris he competed for National Shooter of France. The first prize was a matching set of golden dueling pistols and 10,000 ducats. The second prize was 5,000 ducats, third 1,000. Pierre was the only contestant under 20 and Jean Paul had to pay a judge 250 ducats to allow Pierre to sign up with the 100 ducat fee to compete.
Pierre was tall and lanky and seemed to blend in with hundreds of other men as they began the early rounds. The Blanches had always been marksmen in the French Army. Pierre had been grilled over and over about the precise drop of the shot over distance and the elevation of the barrel necessary to adjust for that drop. Pierre’s rifle had a eye scope bar six inches high that allowed correction of the angle necessary to hit an object on the horizon by lining up on the top arrow with the point on the end of the barrel.
In the next 5 years Pierre won 1st place twice, 1 second, and two third place finishes. At 18 he joined the army as a sharp shooter and spent the next ten years in the Louisiana Territory picking off English troops from a distance before the actual engagement began in earnest. He used his dueling set on several occasions over the years when he found himself insulted which was quite often. At 20 paces he never missed the heart muscle of the unfortunate man he called to the field of honor. Now at forty he held eight titles of National Shooter. The legend is he killed four men he lost to in the competition, in duels right after losing to them. No one had even tried to beat him in years, fearing a similar fate.
Big Bear, Warrior Chief of the Mohawk Nation and Tribal Chief of the Bear Clan, also came from a long line of shooters, even though he preferred the hatchet in battles to get the actual feel of his opponent physically at the end of their life. It also made it easier to claim the scalp since they were right there in front of him on the ground. Bear’s father’s father’s father was a little boy when Jamestown was settled in 1608. By 1650 Bear’s grandfather, Mountain Bear was chief of the Mohawk clan of the Bear. The Dutch gave the tribe flintlocks to increase the flow of furs and the flows increased dramatically. Also increasing dramatically were the deaths of neighboring tribes like the Algonguin to the north who named the Mohawks Ganegauno, which means ferocity. The Mohawk called themselves Thayendanegea, meaning Maneater or Keepers of the Flint. Between 1650 and 1690 when Big Bear was born, the Mohawks fought until they were almost completely wiped out from the wars with every tribe in the Northeastern territories.
When Big Bear was born, Great Bear his father was determined that the Mohawks would not die out from battle. Great Bear took several young braves and their mates to a hidden valley where they multiplied their numbers in isolation from hostilities. There was non-stop practicing of all forms of fighting; rifle, pistol, hatchet, spear, bow and arrow, throwing knives, and hand to hand methods of killing without wasted effort or time in the kill. Big Bear by 12 could kill a man in less than a second 30 different ways without hampering the timing of the death of the next man whatsoever.
Big Bear became Chief upon his father’s death in 1705 at the age of 15. He took a mate that year and now that he sold his skills to the Buerer family, his son Little Bear was Chief of the Bear clan in his absence. Little Bear was 20 years old when he took over and already has a son Little Bear Cub at 5 being trained in the art of one second killing. Little Bear is 6’ 8’ and unchallenged by any of the braves for chief.
Unlike the National Shooter competition in Paris with hundreds of men coming to shoot, This shootout had only Bear, Bill, three Jesuit priests, four palace guards, and a retired army sergeant by the name of Blanche. Bill thought it would be good practice for him but knew he couldn’t be at the finish near the last two or three still shooting. He overheard two priests say Brother Barnard would do well, since he was a marksman before joining the priesthood. Bill asked Jaque to stay for the shoot out and he would go with him to Paris but Jaque was in a hurry to get his things and said he didn’t need any help retrieving a couple of trunks. Bill still felt uneasy having Klondike out of his sight now that he finally had him back, but knew Jaque was capable of protecting his dog in most situations.
With two days to go Bill and the three priests spent most every afternoon behind the compound practicing for the competition. Brother Barnard was good by any standard and usually didn’t miss any of his targets at 50 paces which is all the room there was allowed with the hillside being used as a stop. Everyone knew the competition would be at 100 paces but practice was practice just the same. Bear refused to practice, he said the only shoots that count are the one that count. He went on to say that a man doesn’t practice to kill another man or practice to win. You kill, die, win or lose period. Jaque turned to Bill early the next morning and said not to worry, he would take care Klondike or die trying. As the two of them disappeared down the back street, Bill felt he should forget the shoot out and go with them instead. Klondike stopped just before they turned the corner and looked back at Bill with those big puppy eyes asking if Bill was coming but when Bill looked away Klondike turned and was gone from sight. Bill’s eyes stung from watering up at the sight of Klondike making the corner. He loved that dog and couldn’t allow himself to think about losing him.
The day before the competition started like any other with shots being fired behind the compound beginning around 10 in the morning. Aphra came out to watch. She tried her hand at a couple targets but missed each time. As she sat there next to Bill who had taken a break in the practice she told Bill what she had heard the night before in the study from some priests that were discussing the up coming contest. One of the men coming tomorrow was a champion that held the French title for shooting and when he loses he challenges the winner and kills them in a duel. Bill assured her he wasn’t good enough to beat a champion. She asked about Bear’s ability and Bill wasn’t as confident that Bear wouldn’t last the first rounds. Bill didn’t sleep that well that night as he kept tossing and turning with rifles going off in his head all night.
Bill woke early the next morning. He went to Bear’s room only to find it empty, maybe he was going to practice after all. But Bear was nowhere to be found. All morning Bill looked for Bear to show. Around 10 in the morning the palace guards showed up. With them came dozens of people to watch his majesty’s best military guard compete with Jesuit priests. No one thought the priests would embarrass themselves. Jesuit priests were known for their prowess with firearms. The firing range was inside the compound walls. There were stands along the back walls that ran the full length of the range. The targets were small wooden plugs suspended from iron rails by thin strips of stiff wire. Each rack contained 10 half-inch diameter plugs and could be quickly exchanged with another rack in a groove rail above the target area. 200-250 racks were hanging on wires behind the target range out of sight but close enough for quick replacements. The rules were simple. First round a man could miss three and still move to the second round. In the second round he could miss two. The third round he was allowed one miss and still move on. By the fourth round no misses were allowed and still move on unless every man missed at least one. The winner would be the man that had three perfect rounds beyond his closest competitor last round of missing a target. So when there is only two men left and one misses one of his targets the other man has to hit thirty in a row to win. The prize for winning was sword of finest silver with the winner’s name engraved in the handle and the title of Champion of Versailles. The sheath was of the finest leather and jewels were encrusted on the outer surface depicting men shooting and framed with the outline of France. Although there was no money in winning first prize, the sword was unique and quite valuable on its own. And if a man wanted to bet on himself in the competition there were several wealthy men there who would be willing to cover the bet.
Two to one odds were being made on Blanche against the Captain of the palace guard and three to one against Brother Barnard and 10 to one on all other competitors. Bill went to three of the men and bet 5000 ducats with each of them on Bear. They were surprised that the bets were so large, but since no one had beat Blanche and lived to tell about it for over a decade, at least they would see their losses revenged the same day they paid off their bets. Still it took Bill quite a while to get them to agree to 10 to 1 odds at that kind of amount, losing 50,000 is a bad day for any man, even a noble.
It was almost noon when Pierre Blanche walked up to the line. He was carrying two rifles that appeared to be matching in every respect. Pierre was a tall slender man with cold eyes, cruel mouth, and a way of moving about that seemed slow but wasn’t. Nine men were standing on the line now as young priests were scampering around on the target racks double-checking all were clamped on tight to the rail above. Bill was next to Pierre and against his better judgement he looked at the man. What he saw in his eyes gave him a sudden chill and his body convulsed uncontrollably for a fraction of a second. The last time he felt that feeling was looking into Bear’s eyes outside of Paris when Bear fought alone on the other side of the wagon against that small private army. One place was vacant on the end of the row next to Blanche. Still no sign of Bear and Bill started to worry that foul play was involved. The headmaster of the compound called out three more minutes before firing was to begin. Rifles were raised, sights checked, and positions readied for the start.
The silence was total, no one said a word in the gallery, the runners at the targets were still and alert, the shooters relaxed and still, nothing moved for 30 seconds as everything came to a stop. A small dark cloud covered the sun briefly and Bear stepped up to the line from nowhere in full armor, minus the cannon and balls pack. Pierre didn’t look to his side, he could feel the size of the man next to him by how the light breeze that had been cooling him stopped completely. Bill let out a small sigh of relief, he surely didn’t want to pay 15,000 ducats without Bear even firing a shot.
The headmaster called out for the contest to begin and instantly 10 rounds of fire were heard as one shot. With reloading at a measured pace since there was no time limit, as such, for a round of 10 shots, two minutes passed between the last shot of the first to finish and the last to finish a round. Runners called out misses starting with position one. One, three, four, one, three, five, two, one, zero, zero. Barnard, Captain of the Guard and Bill with one miss, Pierre and Bear hit all 10. A priest and a palace guard sat down, having failed to move on to the second round. Next round called out: zero, two, one, three, one, two, zero, zero. Another guard sat down. Third round. Zero, zero, zero, one, zero, zero, one. All move on, but Bear missed one for the first time, Bill started thinking about losing 15,000 ducats and wished he hadn’t tried to make a killing off this competition. Bear removed his helmet and dropped the powder bags and loosened his belt. For the next three hours somehow two of the seven men missed one saving them from elimination. Then just before 3 o’clock, a priest missed one and everyone else hit all 10 of their targets. Now six men stood on the line. At least two missed one each round for the rest of the day. At six the headmaster called an end to the first day of shooting. Bear disappeared as quickly as he had appeared at noon. Pierre followed soon after. Bill and the others congratulated each other for a fine day of shooting and the crowd dispersed slowly into the compound or left for the palace. Bill returned to his room to look for Bear but he wasn’t there. Bill was tired from the strain of missing occasionally and sweating it out hoping for someone else to miss, which thankfully happened by the 10th shot of the round. His shoulder was sore from six hours of shooting and was asleep within the hour.
The next morning was quite in the compound. It was as if no one wanted to talk to disturb the peace and quiet after all that gunfire the day before. Next to the stands an open kitchen had been set up and breakfast was well on its way. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the air. Laughter broke out from time to time as stories were told. Bill felt refreshed but his right shoulder was still sore and rubbing it wasn’t helping. Barnard and Michael were off to the side talking quietly about the day’s shoot. Bill was the only other remaining contestant around this early. Bear hadn’t returned to the room last night but Bill wasn’t worried. The morning seemed to pass slowly as the priests went about their normal routine, the only unusual aspect was a breakfast fire smoking up the compound. A dozen younger priests were filling the targets with new plugs for the day’s shoot. The smell of gun powder was mixed with the mornings camp fire to form a pleasing aroma for all present.
Around 11 the crowd from the palace began to arrive. The odds had changed considerably. Now 3 to 1 on Barnard, 5 to 1 for the Captain, even money on Bear and 20 to 1 on Bill and Michael. Bill was so lucky the 10 to 1 bets were placed before anyone got tot see Bear shoot. But he was still nervous about all that money on the line. The only thing making it easier was the fact that they had to be thinking what 50,000 ducats loss would do to their current finances.
Noon finally came and again Bear waited till the last seconds before being disqualified before stepping out of the shadows to take his place. As Bill stood there next to the Captain he noticed the Captain was a bigger man than he remembered, in fact Bill was the shortest man on the line at 5’ 9’’, all the rest where over 6’. One, two, zero, two, one, zero. Pierre missed one. Three were allowed on the first round so everyone stayed in. One, one, one, two, zero, zero. Bill couldn’t seem to concentrate today, maybe it was the 15,000 on the line. Zero, two, zero, one, zero, zero. Michael stepped back, now there was five and it wasn’t 30 minutes into the second day yet. One, zero, one, zero, zero. Bill’s miss kept Barnard alive in the contest, but no man could count on help staying in today. One, zero, one, zero, zero. Bill was sweating under the pressure. Zero, zero, zero, zero, zero. Zero, zero, zero, zero, zero. Zero, zero, two, zero, one. Bill suspected Bear missed on purpose but couldn’t worry about that now. He knew there was a limit to how often Bear could miss when he did before someone complained about it. Finally around four Bill missed and Bear didn’t. Bill was almost glad to sit down his shoulder was throbbing from the beating it had taken from 10 hours of shooting. The final four men finished the day with only twice where two missed in the same round. Bill figured it was a matter of concentration. When a man misses before you it takes the pressure off and you lose that tiny bit of focus, then you miss from the slight letdown. But if no one misses when it comes your turn you hold the line tightly so as to hit also.
The third day all were even money. Each man was spaced evenly over the entire line so they were 8’ apart and in their own world. Only three times in six hours were there misses by two men and just before six all but Pierre missed. The fourth day right after noon Barnard missed his first plug and everyone else hit all ten of theirs. Three o’clock The Captain missed and then there was two men standing in the afternoon sun. Around five o’clock Bear missed his sixth plug, the crowd drew silent. Pierre finished without a miss. A smile came across Pierre’s lips as he started the first of three rounds that if he didn’t miss would leave him the winner. He slowed the pace down to where each shot was measured and deliberate. 10 out of 10 one down two to go. As the runner put up the second rack on the rail he slipped and the rack fell to the ground. He quickly picked it up but the stiff wires were all crooked from falling. Pierre called for a new rack and another one was brought forward immediately and put on the rail. This distraction broke not only the measured pace of his shooting but added an element of frustration as well. Pierre tried to return to his pace but missed the seventh plug and began to curse the runner that had dropped the rack. Bear got back up and two new racks were hung. They finished the day without a miss. The runner ran after the day’s shooting and never returned.
Bill again went to bed early that night. The next morning he awoke with a start. Bear was standing there silently waiting for Bill to awaken. Bill asked what was wrong. Bear said he wanted some advice. Bill wondered why Bear needed anything much less advice. Bear said he thought Pierre would win unless he could think of something to throw Pierre off his game. Bill asked Bear if he had thought of something already to which Bear replied a couple of things. First was for Bill to hit Pierre with a stone or small pebble about the time he was going to shoot. Bill quickly ruled it out because it would be so easily seen. Bear’s next idea was to insult the man just before he fired to anger him, although Bill liked the idea better it still would put the results of the match in question and therefore the payment of the bets in question. Then Bear sighed and suggested his last idea to lengthen the distance of the shot to double or triple the distance and say the first man to miss followed by three single shots all hitting a plug by his opponent, loses the contest. Bill thought it was as good a plan as any, and would definitely throw Pierre off his stride.
The fifth day came and the crowds gathered earlier than the other days since it was likely a winner would emerge by the end of the day. Bear was at the morning breakfast with triple servings to fill his huge frame. He was joking around with guards and priests alike, creating as much good will among the men as possible. Then he tried the idea on the men. He started with pondering out loud how long this shoot out could take if a man has to hit thirty in a row without a miss to win. Wouldn’t it be better if it only took three single shots in a row to win. The men standing around agreed it would liven up the contest and since none of them were still in the competition they seemed open to changing the rules to hurry up the finish. To make it more interesting we should have to shoot at 250 paces to increase the chances of a miss. Barnard spoke up and said contests were always in 100 paces multiples 100, 200, 300 up to 1500 which is basically horizon shooting. Bear had picked 250 since it was unlikely that Pierre had a notch for 250 and would have to guess at the angle of the barrel making it an even match. Bear also wanted to stay away from the 1000 and 1500 ranges since Pierre already had notches for those ranges and would pick off the targets in record time since he had competed in those ranges all his life to say nothing of sharpshooting against the English in the Americas.
By noon the crowd was buzzing about how fast the contest could be decided with the rule change. Bill knew the wealthy men were allowed to renegotiate the odds with the rule change and Bill managed to get 3 to 1, 5 to 1, and 6 to 1 from the three men. Bill was happy with the renegotiations and had done better than the 2 to 1 that new bets were being made at on day four. The men were glad for a chance of cutting their potential loses and now were on board with the change in distance and the 3 shot finish. By the time Pierre showed up at 11:30 the crowd was loud and chanting 250 and 3 over and over. The headmaster went to Pierre and asked him if he agreed. Pierre sent a quick look at Bear and frowned, knowing he didn’t have to agree but to refuse would be told at shoot outs for years how the great Blanche was too scared to hurry a contest along.
Runners were already running to the 250 mark to level the ground and remove any rocks no matter how small from the dirt. They walked it twice to verify the distance and finally came to the headmaster to say all was ready. The crowd moved closer to the target racks to see the hits. Pierre and Bear slowly walked out to the 250 line with several men along to insure no dirty deeds were done to distract the shooting of the two men.
Noon came and the headmaster rang a bell for the two to begin Pierre had won the coin toss and had decided to shoot first, one shot at a time was the new sequence of firing. Pierre stood still, let out a breath and fired. All eyes were on the first plug on Pierre’s rack of 10. When the echoes died down the first plug was still intact. Bear’s turn and he too missed. Pierre second shot hit the wire holding the plug and the plug stayed in its ring although the wire was now bent forward. The runner called out the word miss loud and clear. Everyone knew a shot had to knock the plug out of its holder to count. Bear took his second shot and the plug exploded from the impact. Two more and Bear would win. The crowd was cheering at this point since no one actually thought a man could beat Pierre Blanche at shooting. Bear’s next shot also hit home and the crowd got even louder. As Bear reloaded, Pierre whispered under his breath where only Bear could hear – dirty Injun. Bear stopped loading and turned to Pierre asking him to repeat that again. Pierre looked like he didn’t know what Bear was talking about and smiled for everyone to see while he whispered- squaw man. Bill moved closer to see why Bear had stopped reloading but couldn’t hear or see anything to help figure it out. Then Bear finished up, raised the rifle up and squeezed the trigger. By the yelling and shouting going on it was obvious that the third plug was gone. Bear looked over to Pierre and smiled big but his eyes were cold as ice.
Pierre ‘s face turned deep red and his neck veins bulged out and twitched in the noonday sun. He reached for a glove in his belt and before anyone could stop him, he attempted to slap Bear across the face to challenge him to a duel. Bear caught the hand in mid air and crushed the hand in his fist while accepting the challenge in a loud booming voice. The crowd was silent when they heard Bear accept the duel. No one had lived through a duel with Blanche, for that matter they had all hit the ground dead men. Bear bellowed out that his choice of weapons were knives, hatchets, and swords in full armor at dawn. Pierre was furious that Bear didn’t pick pistols as was the custom in France and stormed off behind a compound wall.
Bill was still shocked that it had escalated to a duel in such a short time. He ran over to Bear and asked what had happened. Bear told him about the insults that no one else could hear. Bill congratulated Bear on quickness of mind to add full armor to the acceptance as well as including hatchets in the list of weapons being chosen.
That night the newly engraved sword was brought to Bear’s room where Bill and Bear were talking about the next day. Aphra came in she had heard of the duel in the morning and was concerned about Bear. Bear told her not to worry that he had set it up to win and it would happen fast. Bill laughed thinking about what Pierre must be thinking that night. It was still dark when Bear rolled out of bed and dawned his armor, all of it, leggings, helmet, the works. Bear decided to put his new sword to use since a shield would be redundant with all the extra metal over his vital organs.
The shooting range was the place that was understood since another place wasn’t called out. No women were present. Pierre was a little late as would any man coming to face a man the size of Bear with no gun to level the fighting. Bear stood silently with his new sword in his left hand and the hatchet in his right. Pierre had a sword in his right and a shield with his coat of arms on his left arm with a knife in the left hand. Pierre stood well over six foot but looked small next to Bear.
The headmaster rang a bell and it started. Both crouched low and started circling to the left. Pierre slashed at Bear’s sword and Bear blocked the blow easily with his sword. Then Bear let out a war cry and flew into the air coming down with the hatchet from 15-16 feet in the air pulling it through the air like a hammer. Pierre tried to block the blow with his shield but the hatchet sliced through the shield and on through his elbow and sinking into his chest to the bones of his ribcage, where it got stuck. In his attempt to free himself with his good arm, the shield, hatchet, and his forearm and hand fell to the ground. Pierre looked down at his arm on the ground and felt a wave of nausea sweep over him. He reached into his belt and pulled out a loaded pistol and fired into the left side of Bear’s chest where his heart lay hidden behind an inch of metal. The look of triumph on Pierre’s face soon went to horror as Bear flicked the shot ball off his breastplate with his finger and it became obvious that Bear was going to deliver a fatal blow to Pierre who had no defense but his sword left. Bear held up his sword for defense as he bent over and wrenched the hatchet out of the shield on the ground. Pierre went for the kill but was stopped by a sword in a defensive position. Then Bear brought the hatchet around at neck level with a ferocious swing. Although Pierre did manage to bring his sword up to blocking position, the force of the hatchet came on through the sword and carried it on through the neck to the other side. Pierre’s head toppled forward onto the ground followed by his body seconds later. Bear dropped the hatchet, pulled Pierre’s helmet off and took out his long knife. While stepping on the stub of a neck he grabbed the scalp and quickly sliced off the hair to the back of the neck. The men standing there had never seen a scalping, and so were standing with their mouths open staring at the spectacle. Bill came up grabbed the hatchet and lead Bear off to their quarters without a word. None of the priests, including the headmaster were comfortable asking Bear to leave the compound. None of the palace guards were willing to tell anyone what they saw for fear they would be asked to arrest Bear for the scalping, assuming it was illegal. The duel was never discussed in public or private by any man that was there, even among themselves.
TO BE CONTINUED
December 22nd, 2008 at 11:10 pm
cooling dog bed…
Your topic Balloons in flight | Ironwulf.net Ver 6: En Route - Philippines, Travel … was interesting when I found it on Tuesday searching for cooling dog bed…