Buck.

Texte du rabat

Dawn was breaking and soon he needed to roll out of this nice warm bed. He'd been camped on the Middle Luke River for the last few weeks setting traps for the wily Beaver. His catch was not good for beaver and those darn muskrat kept getting in his traps. Although they weren't in season he kept them anyway, reasoning no one would check around his tent for out of season pelts in the middle of this snowy winter. The sale of his pelts would allow him to begin the journey to Oregon. A dream that had started when he'd received the letter from his Cousin Emmett.