Wheels of Old

Old West Series - Gold Mines and Ghost Towns Photography ... more

by Barbara St Jean

Title

Wheels of Old

Artist

Barbara St Jean

Medium

Photograph

Description

Old West Series - Gold Mines and Ghost Towns Photography
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Taken at Port Alice Historic Site, British Columbia, Canada
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Excerpt for my Book - Under The Wire;
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Chapter one – Gold can glitter but it can’t sing
The day was July 27Th in the year of the Lord 1862.
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Sometime during the night he had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed, only to wake himself up as he was about to fall off. After that, he busied himself between treatments by cooking and cleaning. The night turned into morning as he kept the same routine. The girl never moved, didn't blink, twitch or moan. He wondered if she would wake up at all. He had moved the beans and rabbit stew off to the side of the fireplace and added more water. The Medicine woman had added some herbs to it, so he didn't want to eat it, obviously it was meant for the girl, but what was he to do, she never woke up. As the sunlight filtered in through the two small windows he looked around for something else to do. He liked the little cabin it worked well, it didn't have much. The back wall had been pushed into a rock outcropping of the hill behind and a fireplace had been cut right into the rock giving the cabin the feeling of being in a cave. It also had one rope weaved single bed with on old cotton and horse hair mattress. One rough-cut table, made out of floor planking and tree branches for legs. The small table beside the bed was made out of a wooden apple box. Two wooden chairs kept together with bits of fencing wire sat on either side of the table. The kitchen had more planks for a counter with a few apple boxes made into shelves above and the pots and pans hung from nails sticking out of the beams above the fireplace. The kitchen was on one side of the small cabin, the bed on the other and the table was in the middle, it was shelter. A line cabin used by hunters and trappers he figured. When he found the cabin it looked abandoned and a little worse for wear but with a bit of fixing up it was now warm and dry. He couldn't complain it was better than living in the tarp tent like he had been doing for the past two years. He often wondered if someone would show up to reclaim it and then he’d just need to move on. He was prepared for it, but he’d been there for almost a month and the girl and the Indians were his first visitors.
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by Barbara St. Jean, Saint Jean Art Gallery, Copyright Protected, All rights reserved. To purchase Prints please see my artist site; http://barbara-saint-jean.artistwebsites.com/

Uploaded

January 6th, 2013