THE FEATHER

THE FEATHER ŠThe Goatherder

In days of yore, writing instruments were made of quill. Quill pens wrote and transcribed all of the important documents in our early history. This one pen or "quill" had a most odd and improbable journey from its original owner to its destiny as the quill used for the most historic document of our Country. And away we go!

White Eagle was an Albino Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) that lived out in the Happy Jack area of the Medicine Bow National Forest. Except when White Eagle lived it was long, before there was a State of Wyoming, A Wyoming territory, A Dakota Territory, or Colorado or Nebraska or any territory. For White Eagle was born in the year 1772, 'Yep' he even pre-dated the Articles of confederation and the Declaration of Independence. Also back then this area of the High Plains had not been declared the "Great American Desert", it was just buffalo territory and where the Indians, Deer and Antelope played.

White Eagle was as I said an albino, but not only that he was an exceptionally large Eagle. A big Eagle measures a little less than four feet long and has a wing span of maybe eight feet. But not White Eagle, because he was five and one half feet long, and had a wing span of a little over thirteen feet. You don't think that didn't put fear into the hearts of critters that were normally scared of these winged predators? When he swooped down low across the landscape, it was like a minor eclipse for those huge wings would black out a large area. But here was an anomaly of nature that contrary to what others say and have written was an easy going, mild mannered nearly timid behemoth. White Eagle actually stood for "frapping terror" and Frapping Terror was anything but personality wise.

Eagles for the most part stay in the region where they are born and although they do range over a large area, large area to a mouse or ground hog, they stay in this area all of their life. This was the case of White Eagle. He roamed the rocks and valleys of Veedauwoo, the plains of what would be Ames monument area, and on occasions he even dropped down into the Laramie Valley. In those days an eagle did not have to worry about two legs for the only two legs were the Indians of the area who were migrants and followed the herds of buffaloes. The Indians held the eagle in high esteem and thought it an honor to get an eagle feather to wear in his headband. Matter of fact before you could weather an eagle feather in a headband, you had to perform a great deed or act of distinction. Most all of the Indian's eagle feathers were found or taken from old nests. The greatest problem an eagle had was when he caught prey and stayed on the ground to eat it, instead of taking the prey high into the rocks or a secluded place.

The tribe which frequented the area most in pursuit of the buffalo and whose normal migration took them from what is now Montana all the way down into Northern New Mexico had observed the large white eagle. Being story telling people the exploits of White Eagle became known far and wide. Once he had supposedly swooped down and carried off a rather nasty brave. Another time he had grabbed a Pronghorn Antelope and as he was flying to his nest, he accidentally dropped the Pronghorn on old chief Wagawammi's teepee. These stories were wide-ranging and varied with all being fabrications, but one thing that was no story and it was that White Eagle wasn't mean or savage. It seems as if White Eagle's feats were actually helpful deeds. If time allows maybe we will brew up a pot of coffee and go over some of the better ones at another time.

This area of the country is known for it harsh and violent weather and if you go back and check your history you will find that the winter of White Eagle's fifth year was the worst of any on record, off the record and unrecorded. The coldest it had been was sixty-two below zero Fahrenheit and there had been 27 feet of snow so far that winter. But the last two weeks of January had been pretty nice, snow squalls, not much wind and only about ten below. The winter had been so bad that quite a few eagles had died from the cold and starvation. It is hard to find prey with so much snow, matter of fact the little critters, which the eagles normally survive on, had either stayed in their burrows and starved or had little tunnels in the snow. These tunnels allowed little critters to forage for food without coming under the eagle's mighty sight. So here it was the first of February and it was another pretty day so White Eagle who normally had a gigantic appetite was soaring around looking for lunch. Some critters and a matter of fact some humans can tell when there is a big weather change coming. It has been proven that the drop in barometric pressure can be sensed especially in areas of gout, the ears and joints. But a strong eagle doesn't sense trivial things like that and could have cared less about it for he was on the hunt. Maybe he should have shown and used a little forethought for if he had maybe his world would not have been so turned into a wreck.

White Eagle was soaring over a rocky outcrop watching a large field mouse working its way around the rocks foraging for food. Slowly he worked his way into position for a lunch time swoop, looking down at the mouse he pulled his wings back, fold his legs and talons back to achieve minimum aerodynamic drag and started to dive. All at once one of those Wyoming fronts moved through and pushed White Eagle not down but up into a gigantic mass of tumbling air. This was not a typical front for the temperature dropped 75 degrees in two minutes and the wind down near the ground exceeded 87.534 mph, while the wind in the uppers layers were over 474.26 mph. One moment White Eagle was going for lunch and the next he was carried aloft and being shuttled along at a phenomenal speed. The winds were causing such turbulence that White Eagle could see nothing, so he did what any normal eagle caught in a front would do, he stabilized himself and relaxed.

It seemed like an eternity before things started to settle out any for it became dark then light again before this giant front lost enough strength and velocity for White Eagle to even think about flight. As the front started to slow White Eagle had to put out his wings to sustain flight and then at the first chance he dove for the ground. Straight down he went and at the very last moment he flared out and continued on easy soaring flight. Immediately he looked around for a crag or a tor on which to land; but to his consternation he saw none! Where am I, what is this strange place I am in he thought? White Eagle did a couple slow turns to peruse his surroundings and all he saw was green. There were green fields and green trees all around as far as an eagle's eyes could see. No tall hill, any mountains, any big rock just green land and trees. Seeing a tree, which was taller than the others, he landed in it. After sitting there a little while he thought this must be the largest tree in the world for I have never seen anything like this before. Hunger began to overtake White Eagle so he took off and began to soar about and look for lunch. White Eagle soon spotted a lake and the sun was such that he could see there were a lot of fish on the surface sunning. Swoosh and he had a big fish, wow that was easy he thought as he flew back to the big tree. After having seven big fish White Eagle slept long and hard for he knew he must figure out how to get back home.

After he was rested he started flying in ever increasing circles trying to reconnoiter the area and see if he could find anything familiar. After four or five hours he had seen nothing familiar but he had seen some villages which had fires, for the smoke was billowing. The villages were not like those of the two legs back home but had square teepees with near flat roofs and green patches behind each teepee. That was all well and good but what really caught his eye was that little group of big grouse or sage hens just behind the teepees in a funny looking enclosure. Being hungry as usual White Eagle thought that maybe some sage hens would make a good meal so he started circling to get positioned to get lunch.

What White Eagle didn't know was that farmer Ambrose M. Johnson had been watching him soaring around and Ambrose had never seen a flying creature so large and white. He had his musket loaded and when he saw this gigantic white creature start diving straight down toward him he nearly had a hear attack. White Eagle came straight down in a streamline mode, flared out, grabbed a sage hen and then kerwhack, derplonk and then kersplach he went. White Eagle had not seen the fence surrounding the chicken pens and had flown right into them. What he thought were sage hens or grouse were turkeys and White Eagle had grabbed a big old Tom! Having hit the fence rolled across the ground and into a little watering pond was quickly refreshed when he hit the water.

Immediately realizing his danger White Eagle launched into the air, but just as he did a big old mangy cur dog made a grab at him and as White Eagle started up the dog grabbed a mouthful of tail feathers. White Eagle had just cleared the top of the fence when there was a resounding boom and something grazed his head. Up up up White Eagle flew as fast as he could to get away from there. Soon he was away from the cluster of teepees and into open spaces. Now how do I get home?

Ambrose ran over to his turkey pen and found that big Tom dead and being a realist Ambrose thought, "hot damn turkey and giblet gravy for dinner tomorrow." Seeing that no other damage had been done he surveyed the area and saw six gigantic white feathers on the ground, feathers the dog had pulled from White Eagle's tail. Ambrose picked up the feathers and took them into the house to show his wife. Not too many things excited Carie Johnson, for she had been poor all her life and hard times were normal for her. Ambrose was all excited as he came into the house holding the feathers in one hand and the musket in the other. "Carie, did you see that big white bird?" Carie looked at Ambrose and shoot her head for Ambrose was always getting into the medicinal whiskey, so she figured it must have been so this time.

After looking at the feathers, the largest feathers she had even seen, Carie thought, Mr. Buford over at the Tavern might give me a sack of baking powder for one of these things. Carie being poor and industrious looked at everything and evaluated its value for bartering. She knew that Cap'n Buford did a lot of writing and was always in the market for good feathers to make quill pens out of. So the next day Carie took one of the feathers over to Buford's Tavern and showed it to the Cap'n. Lordy, one would of thought that she had gold the way he got all excited and started mumbling and ranting and even slobbered a little. Finally Carie traded that white eagle feather for a sack of baking powder, two cans of 'snoose', a slab of bacon and a bolt of gingham cloth. Going home with all this truck Carie couldn't believe her good fortune and she also thought, "wow I got all of this for one feather, just think what I can get for the other five."

Meanwhile White Eagle was trying to figure out how to get back home and so far to no avail. Remember White Eagle was blown to this area by a gigantic front, which came out of the Pacific, across the Northwest, across the Rockies, the plains and into the lower end of the Blue Ridges. If you study weather or pay much attention to those Highs and Lows the weather people are always talking about you may have noticed a couple anomalies. Sometimes after a gigantic high-pressure system has moved through a low will develop down into the Caribbean and move up the Atlantic Seaboard generating a fierce East wind. Also on occasions the East West Jet Stream will swing down from Canada and cause a fast moving airborne wind.

One morning White Eagle was out foraging and had climbed to a very high altitude, a normal altitude for White Eagle but very high for the locale. His normal home was on the Rocky Mountain Plateau, which is at an elevation of 7,000 feet, while the area where he was now was only 750 feet. It was a crystal clear day, White Eagle could see for miles, not often he had found in this area it is this clear. It had been two weeks since he had been blown to this area and by now White Eagle's leeriness had waned; so he flew and hunted. As I said White Eagle was at an extremely high altitude for a bird. All at once he started moving faster and faster without exerting any additional effort; soon he was moving West at a fantastic rate of speed. "Oh no here we go again White Eagle muttered" as he just relaxed and let the wind carry him along. By the time the sun started to set in the West White Eagle started to see terrain which was vaguely familiar to him so he began to try and descend out of the air current. To do this he started flying as fast as he could with the wind then he tucked into the aerodynamic position and dove straight down, it worked because all at once he was in still air. By the time Cap'n Buford had bought all six of those eagle feathers, Mrs. Carie Johnson had, in her estimation, become a near wealthy woman. No matter for Cap'n Buford knew he had a rare commodity and would turn a fair profit. And it would not be long before he realized his profit for he was to leave the next week for Williamsburg. You See Cap'n Buford was a member of the Virginia House of Burgess, representing what is now part of Bedford County. Before Cap'n Buford departed for Williamsburg he had his wife Sally carefully wrap the feathers in kapok and them put them in a box he had Elmer his house slave make for them.

Buford's were infamous for their drinking and partying and Cap'n James Buford was no different. The Tavern where he stayed in Williamsburg was the Inn where a lot of Drummers from all over the Colonies lodged and every night all the drummers and Delegates would tipple a few and play some cards. For you young folks a Drummer is a roving salesman. On this night Cap'n Buford had quite a few and lost quite a bit so when the cash ran out he brought out one of his feathers. When he unwrapped that giant white feather a hush befell the room and all eyes were glued on that magnificent specimen. Josiah Graham of Boston saw the feather and immediately knew he had to have it for he knew a man in Boston who would pay a premium to get it. I won't say Josiah was crooked or a card shark or any derisional words to that effect but lets just say he won all of Cap'n Buford's money and two of his feathers.

Early the next morning Josiah set out North and home to his family and to start bargaining for some of the 'truck' he had obtained on this trip. He had sold all of his pots and pans and they fetched a pretty penny; Old Revere knew how to make a good cooking utensils. In Philadelphia he traded the Sassafras roots he had obtained in Carolina for some top quality candlesticks and a little cash. Then in New York he traded the candlesticks for some molasses, which he knew, was in demand back in Boston. Arriving in Boston Josiah Graham felt he was on top of the world for he had a good trip, realized a handsome profit, heard a lot of good stories and drunk a lot of good Bourbon. After the formalities of arriving home, a present for his wife and a present for each of his seven kids, then a big dinner, all was back to normal. The next morning after going to the bank and insuring his finances were in order he took the feathers and started out for John's house, knowing quite well that he could sell those feathers for a 'pretty penny'. Josiah was so wrapped up in the feathers that as he came around the corner of Market Square he did not see a run a way wagon coming his way. As fate would have it just as he stepped out from behind a loaded wagon stopped and unloading, he was hit by the run away team. It didn't injure Josiah that much but the package the feathers were in was knocked from his pocket. After he was revived and was taken home Josiah felt in his pocket and to his chagrin the feathers were gone. He spent days looking for the feathers and all to no avail, oh well such is life.

Beanie Patros happened to be walking in the Market Square when Josiah was hit and after he had helped Josiah he started to walk off and as he did he spied the long thin package which contained the feathers. Picking up the package he opened it and thought wow may these big feathers will be enough to trade for a bottle of Rum. He took the feathers to the Proprietor of the Squat Toad, a seedy tavern, where he traded the feathers for two bottles of Rum. That night Beanie enjoyed the Rum and other niceties and the following morning shipped out for the Indies. Hespeth Dooley Owner of the Squat Toad put the feathers in a cupboard where she often put stuff she traded for. That night Hespeth had a seizure and died. Her husband Ezekiel sold the tavern lock stock and barrel and headed for Pennsylvania with his mistress.

Meanwhile out West White Eagle had driven down and out of the jet stream and as he circled and reconnoitered he found he was over the Platte and not a great distance from home. It took him about four days to make the journey because every time he met some other eagles he had to tell his tale which of course no one believed. When he finally got back home he swore off Mice for the rest of his life. For if it had not been for that mouse he would have stayed home. Oh yes where the farmer shot at him White Eagle had a bald streak right up through the top of his head where the bullet had grazed him. White Eagle became a legend for he had survived the Great Pacific Express Storm.

The new owners of the Squat Toad completely renovated the place and cleaned out the cupboards then sold all the junk to a peddler. The peddler sold the feathers to a bonded wench, Marie Burkholder who was John's scullery maid. At Christmas time Marie wrapped the feathers up for the Master's present, actually she hoped to impress him enough to forgo the last three years of her indenture. John thought the two feathers fabulous and straight away sharpened one into a quill and started to write. It was so large and of such quality, surely no one else had one as superb as this one. The second one he stored for an important occasion.

All the hoopla preceding the Revolution was taking place and john forgot the feather and then a few years later he remembered it and took the second one with him to Philadelphia. Now you know the whole story for John Hancock used White Eagle's tail feather to sign the Declaration of Independence.

FT never knew of the aforementioned event and no one until today ever knew that there was a direct link between Wyoming, the American Bald Eagle and the Declaration of Independence.

2/2/99 4:29 PM