An Untold Wilderness Tale

… la frontiera tra Canada e Stati Uniti, dove Pratt ambienterà la terza storia della saga di Wheeling con un nuovo protagonista, Walter Butler, un «rinnegato» …

«Forse basterebbe una foto», dice Pratt, mentre la macchina da presa lo inquadra, seduto tra pesanti cannoni, nello spiazzo di Fort Ticonderoga, «ma non è come venire qui, respirare quest’aria, sentire l’odore degli alberi intorno, di questi muri. Sono questi odori che quasi mi violentano, mi spingono a fare delle storie.»

— E che storia le fanno raccontare?

«Quella di un uomo bistrattato dalla Storia americana, uno che forse aveva qualcosa da difendere, da dire», esclama vicino al luogo in cui infine Walter Butler venne scotennato in una serata d’inverno.

Silvia Garambois, «Il giro del mondo con Corto Maltese», L’Unità, Giovedì, 1 Settembre 1983

October 30, 1781,
Passage of Canada Creek,
«where the Oswegatchie trail forded West Canada Creek» …

All were running ankle-deep among rustling & crackling fallen leaves, then guns crashed in the bleak dusk silence along the banks of the creek, clouds of smoke & breath gathered & faded in the heavy wet twilight air, & clubs, tomahawks & rifle stocks thudded on flesh & bones, & a knife blade flashed.

There, in the gray gloaming silence & stillness, he lay face downward & arms outstretched on the west bank of the creek. A few long, egg-shaped acorns, enclosed by reddish-brown broad cups, were caught in his haversack and in his bedroll on his back. His buckskin Indian leggings were half-covered by brown or dark red leaves with shallow wavy lobes. Hidden by his body were the Royal Cypher, «GR», and the words «Butler’s Rangers», engraved on each pewter button and on each brass plate, including the cartridge pouch plate. His red scalp blood blotched a few elliptical dark red leaves, and blood from the wounds spattered his green cloth waistcoat. His head was against the dark gray, rough and scaly-furrowed bark of a red oak, one eye wide open & blind, the other one a frosting bloodied empty eyesocket.

Gray mist arose from the rippling chilly waters & slow-falling leaves crackled & rustled in the silence of the gathering blue darkness, before the voices of the night birds were heard.

Captain Walter Butler was shot through his hat…

Adventure novels bestow upon any reader the chance…

Adventure Crossway

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