The maples, oaks and birch were in full red, orange and yellow making a distinct contrast to the deep greens of the 80 feet tall white pines that rose in magnificent groves all through the northern woods. It seemed to the three travelers that this would be a nice place to explore further once the threat of war was gone. They were camped for the night near La Grand Traverse just a few days from Michilimackinac. For the most part they followed a native hunting trail that veered a few miles inland from Lake Michigan through stands of white pine and open meadows. Deer was in abundance as was pheasant and wild turkey and they came upon a herd of elk that had been spooked by a group of Ojibway hunters. ‘Tis a fine place for sure,’ voiced Mulhern, ‘I can see why them that are already here wanna keep other folks out.’ ‘Those Ojibway didn’t seem too pleased to find us in their hunting ground, ‘replied Liam, ‘though once their chief silenced them they became almost too friendly.’ ‘Aye, but I am grateful for that elk haunch they left with us,’ said Mulhern, ‘wouldn’t you agree there, momma bear?’ Wahta could only grin and nod his head, the drippings from the large morsel of elk he had just stuck in his mouth running down his chin and chest.