Mike Walker sent Sadie ahead to find Charles while he went to the camp's kitchen to get some supplies from Pearson, the gang's cook.
Although the weather had improved, the thaw was always the coldest period. And unlike the game he remembered, going out to hunt here wasn't something you could finish in an hour. They would be out for quite a while lunch would definitely have to be eaten outdoors.
At the temporary camp kitchen, Pearson and Uncle were each holding half a bottle of whiskey, drinking lazily.
Apparently, when they fled Blackwater, the only thing these two managed to save was alcohol.
"Uh-hum… Mike, want some?"
Pearson quickly coughed when he realized he'd been caught slacking, attempting to bribe Mike with the bottle.
Uncle, as always, lounged lazily nearby the legendary "Back Pain King" of the West, never sat if he could lie down and never worked if he could avoid it.
"If you hadn't already drunk from it." Mike replied with mild annoyance.
"Well… fine. Just keep it between us."
Pearson hesitated, then remembering how Mike had confronted Dutch earlier, winced and pulled a bottle from a pile of rags clearly something he'd been hiding.
"Chivas? Not moonshine?"
Mike stared at the bottle in surprise. He had expected low-grade homemade liquor, the kind common in the frontier.
But this was the well-known Chivas whiskey, still sealed one of the most popular drinks in saloons.
"You had something this good, and you didn't bring it out earlier?"
Uncle practically leapt off his seat.
Nothing stirred Uncle like a good drink.
Pearson only gave a guilty laugh.
If he revealed this in front of Uncle, it would be gone in minutes.
This bottle had been his personal treasure. But after watching Mike stand up to Dutch back at the cabin and considering the danger lurking everywhere, especially with the O'Driscolls nearby, Pearson decided investing goodwill in the Calander brothers was wiser than hiding whiskey.
As for Arthur, everyone in camp knew he didn't need bribing. As long as no one betrayed the gang the way John had once done, Arthur always helped when he could, which was why the whole camp went to him when they needed something.
"You should keep it." Mike tossed the bottle back.
For health reasons, he wasn't interested in smoking or drinking.
And the idea that alcohol "warms the body" was nonsense alcohol numbed the nerves temporarily but made the body lose heat faster. Worse, it slowed reactions during emergencies.
If this were a celebration or negotiation, one sip might be fine, but not during their current circumstances.
"Charles and I are heading out to hunt. Prepare something for us to take, don't give me that pickled organ stew again." Mike added.
Pearson's cooking was never great, and without spices, pickled offal might as well be called: "even a dog wouldn't eat it."
"Of course! I still have some meat and vegetable cans left and some cured rabbit."
Pearson retrieved supplies from a battered cabinet:
a cured rabbit leg, a slab of salted beef, two peach cans, two beef cans, and two vegetable cans.
Enough for Mike, Charles, and Sadie for a full day.
Mike checked the cans carefully.
In 1899, canned food existed but quality varied wildly, especially in the poorer western regions leaks, spoilage, or even lead poisoning were real risks.
Satisfied that everything was safe, Mike headed toward the stables.
Charles and Sadie were already waiting.
"Here, Mike. You can't use guns for hunting animals within miles will scatter."
Charles tossed him a bow.
Aside from this one, there were two more crude bows made from branches and bark, not pretty, but usable.
"And I need to save bullets anyway."
Mike took the bow. His archery wasn't nearly as good as his shooting, but it was enough for hunting.
"How about you, Sadie?" he asked her.
"I once hunted a boar over 170 pounds though not with a bow."
Sadie mounted one of her farm's surviving horses; the other had been brought back by Arthur.
"Impressive." Mike nodded.
They talked as they walked into the forest.
After tying their horses near the treeline, the three headed toward a creek.
Hunting near water was always easier than wandering blindly through snow.
Charles was an expert, Sadie had plenty of experience, while Mike wasn't skilled at it at all he simply listened as they explained techniques along the way.
But the real reason he brought them out here wasn't just hunting.