New SorGun

[simlink 1,098]

Something has been missing from my visits to ST... so excited to see NSG back!

[Lyhoko Leaci 770]

Lyhoko: Ah, its back!

 

Lyhoko: Maybe Lyhoko should stop playing Minecraft for a bit to play SimCity, as well...

 

Lyhoko: Things are looking a bit cloudy, hopefully that doesn't mean troubles are coming...

[Benedict 3,119]

Really great to see you back. I can't wait to see what the next few years in NS have in store.

[SimCoug 5,973]

@Schulmanator:  Thanks - I'm always glad to have your support

@Luiz:  I hope this update was worth waiting for.

@Sim_Link:  Thank you.

@Lyhoko:  Trouble is always brewing somewhere...

@Benedict:  Glad to be back

 

 

Well... lets start season 2!

 

Update 34

 

1880 Census – Between Two Cities

 

Spring 1880

 

 

Even inside the rail car, the salty air teased his nose.  The journey west from Steamer Bay hugged the shoreline and offered panoramic views of the sound just as if he was traveling by boat, but Mr. Fredric Stevens was happy to be chuffing along the branch line that connects to Porthaven.  The thrill of sailing was certainly in his blood, but the accommodations offered on the train couldn’t be overlooked. 

 

 

Unfortunately Stevens’ visit to the dining car was cut short.  The branch line to Porthaven included one stop in Orchard Bay, a tiny little town that sprung up next to an inlet up the beach from Steamer Bay. 

 

 

The station was nothing more than a simple platform hugging the tracks, surrounded by a few houses and shops that had sprung up once the station was completed.  It was then that Stevens remembered that the Steamer Bays and Porthaven’s of the SorGun region were far and few between.  The small towns and remote crossroads were going to make up the bulk of his census duties from here on out. 

“These boots will come in handy today,” he thought as he stepped off the platform into the muddy road.

 

 

It was a good hike into town.  The railroad wasn’t about to spend the extra time or money surveying a path that would benefit the pre-existing town, but a station was erected anyway because it still was the best way for folks in Orchard Bay to move about the region.  Stevens and his team were able to hitch a ride on one of the wagons for the winding trip into town.

 

 

Fredric Stevens and his band of bean counters set up shop at the only Inn located near the center of the town (although most visitors would consider Orchard Bay a village, at best).  A few doors down from the Inn, Stevens stumbled upon a small shop that featured a fine shirt in the main window.  Hiram N. Colfax, a young lad in his early 20s, was manning the counter and seemed quite happy when Stevens strolled through the door.

 

 

The two struck up a friendly conversation and Stevens learned that Colfax had lived in Orchard Bay since the founding.  Colfax’s father had moved the family business to the SorGun region over eight years ago, after years of barely scraping by in San Francisco.  At the time, it was rumored that Orchard Bay would be the next boomtown and land was cheap.  In the eight years since, the town has grown steadily but no fortunes were made in the process.  Pioneers seeking a new life bought up tracks of land and orchards and farms slowly pushed back the surrounding forests.

(click for full)

 

 

But Orchard Bay was never quite able to grow beyond the small community that it was.  Hiram had studied under his father for years, and he learned the tailor trade well in that time, but Stevens could sense that the kid’s heart was somewhere else.  Hiram excitedly questioned him about his travels across the country – what were the people like, what was it like in big cities?  The kid’s eyes lit up when Stevens told him stories about Chicago and buildings that would reach up to the sky.  As the two parted ways, Fredric Stevens couldn’t help but think that a small little town like Orchard Bay wouldn’t be able to hold in a bright kid like Hiram N. Colfax much longer.

 

 

After a few days in Orchard Bay and its outskirts, the census crew hopped back on the train and moved closer to their next prize, Porthaven. 

 

 

The past 10 years had seen Porthaven expand as farmland gobbled up forests and river valleys.   The first stop was a tiny shack of a building outside of town right in the midst of the farming expansion.

 

 

Stevens and his fellow census crew spent the next day hopping from one farm to the next.  Although the sawmill put Porthaven on the map, the surrounding farms kept the little town afloat over the years as the timber industry cycled between booms and busts. 

 

 

Once the branch line from Steamer Bay to Porthaven was completed, it became even easier to move the produce to market.  The local depot almost looked like a makeshift operation, but it was usually a hub of activity with farmers dropping off their harvest, and trains unloading supplies and equipment. 

 

 

After a long day of tramping through orchards and stepping on cow pies, Stevens and his crew spent the night in at the tiny train station with the hopes of catching the first morning train into Porthaven.  There would be many days ahead spent with the whiff of cow manure in the air, so the prospect of spending some time in a decent size town, perhaps in a real Inn, lifted the spirits of everyone in the group.  Fredric Stevens was especially excited to see how Mr. Delin’s little settlement had grown over the past 10 years.  He could only imagine what would await him. 

(click for full)

[Schulmanator 5,787]

Awesome! Glad to see a new season underway.

[coolwiththecool2 827]

good to have you back!

[SimCoug 5,973]

Next weeks sneak peek...

“Mr. Stevens, it’s been far too long! Welcome back to Porthaven,” announced Delin.
“Far too long indeed,” replied Stevens. “I’d like you to meet my fellow colleagues – they are all excited to begin their work tallying up this great town.”
“Wonderful. These gentlemen are members of the town council and they will be happy to assist you and your party. I look forward to your stay, Mr. Stevens. We have much to talk about,” said Delin.
The two groups exchanged greetings and introductions. As the informal gathering began to wind down, Stevens had one last word with Mr. Delin.
“Thank you again for the warm welcome. Porthaven appears to be growing into quite the town, you must be proud,” remarked Stevens.
Delin managed a smile. “Well… things are not always as they seem.”
Stevens was puzzled by the response. Before Delin turned to walk away he gestured down the street.
“If your schedule permits, I’d be honored to share a drink at Murphy’s this evening. A lot has happened in ten years.”





@Schulmanator: Thanks!
@TayMay27: Good to be back - thanks for stopping by.

[vivapanda 422]

Good to see Porthaven got its Railway connection!

[Schulmanator 5,787]

Out of curiosity, when do we get to meet Miss Kitty ?

[T Wrecks 10,209]

I just had to vote +1 - if it hadn't been for the picture, your correct spelling of "sneak peek" (a rare sight!) alone would have made me do it.

[Benedict 3,119]

I just had to vote +1 - if it hadn't been for the picture, your correct spelling of "sneak peek" (a rare sight!) alone would have made me do it.

 

Agreed! Although weeks is missing an apostrophe...

 

And when the pictures are so amazing, who cares about the grammar/spelling!

[Fox 1,444]

Hmm.. can't wait to see what's about to happen..

[Dazzyls 576]

ncredible

[SimCoug 5,973]

@vivapanda: Yep, the rail line will continue to play a huge part in SorGun's development.

@Schulmanator:  Not to worry - we'll be back in New SorGun before too long and catch up on all the town gossip

@T Wrecks:  I get that right half the time... must have been a lucky day  Thanks for stopping by.

@Benedict:  Thanks for the kind words!
@Fox: The wait is over!

@Ultimate727:  Thanks!

 

 

Update 35

 

1880 Census – A Dream Deceived

 

Spring 1880

 

 

The train slowed around the last bend.  Mr. Stevens was glued to his window, wondering if this was even the same town he visited 10 years ago.  A decade can cloud the mind, but Stevens remembered his first trip to Porthaven like it was yesterday.  The ferry crossing, Fort Sunset, Murphy’s Pub… Porthaven held a special place in Fredric Stevens’ heart. 

 

 

Most of all, Stevens was looking forward to catching up with the man behind Porthaven, Nicholas J. Delin.  Over 25 years ago, Delin cut through the swampy lowlands looking for the perfect location to start his dream.  All these years later, Porthaven was finally shaping up into the city that he had imagined. 

 

 

As the Census crew strolled down Main St, Stevens couldn’t help but notice how much the town had grown up.  Shops and homes dotted the landscape, and the bustle and hustle of the townsfolk added to a very lively atmosphere.  The stationmaster gave the group directions to Sunset Port House & Inn, one of the newest hotels in town.  Stevens was surprised to see Mr. Delin standing out front waiting to welcome the new guests.

 

 

“Mr. Stevens, it’s been far too long!  Welcome back to Porthaven,” announced Delin. 

“Far too long indeed,” replied Stevens.  “I’d like you to meet my fellow colleagues – they are all excited to begin their work tallying up this great town.”

“Wonderful.  These gentlemen are members of the town council and they will be happy to assist you and your party.  I look forward to your stay, Mr. Stevens.  We have much to talk about,” said Delin.

The two groups exchanged greetings and introductions.  As the informal gathering began to wind down, Stevens had one last word with Mr. Delin.

“Thank you again for the warm welcome.  Porthaven appears to be growing into quite the town, you must be proud,” remarked Stevens.

Delin managed a smile.  “Well… things are not always as they seem.”

Stevens was puzzled by the response.  Before Delin turned to walk away he gestured down the street.

“If your schedule permits, I’d be honored to share a drink at Murphy’s this evening.  A lot has happened in ten years.”

 

 

Later that evening, Fredric Stevens made his way down the street to Murphy’s.  As he strolled through the door, the memories of ten years past came rolling back.  It was nice to know that an entire town could grow up, but some things don’t change.  Stevens glanced around and noticed Mr. Delin sitting at a table in the corner.

“If it weren’t for my aching old bones, I’d say this feels like the last ten years never happened,” laughed Stevens as he pulled up a chair.

Delin looked up and smiled.  At 61, the years were beginning to show their wear.  To many, Delin was still the young buck who almost single handedly built Porthaven from the ground up, starting with that single cabin over 25 years ago.

 

 

But the grey hair told a different story.  As the two friends reminisced about old times and faraway places, the night wore on.  After a lull in the conversation, Mr. Stevens took a sip of his beer and posed a question.

“I was thrown off by your comment earlier today.  Steamer Bay is shaping up into a splendid little town, but Porthaven has nothing to be ashamed of – from what I’ve seen both towns are equally grand.  What did you mean by your quip?”

Delin rested his mug on the table.

“Fredric, my friend, the hour is far too late to begin that story now.  The mornings come early here on the frontier, and Murphy’s beer can make you scorn the sunlight.”

The two gentlemen walked out into the night, and as Fredric turned to walk towards the hotel, Delin cleared his throat. 

“I’m going to take an afternoon walk tomorrow.  If you can make time between your census duties, I’d like to show you something.  We can leave from my house.”

 

 

Normally Stevens would find it hard to sleep with so many questions running through his head.  What had put Mr. Delin in such a strange state?  Fortunately, an evening at Murphy’s made the eyes heavy, and the comfortable beds at the Inn finished the job and whisked Stevens off to dreamland. 

 

 

The next morning, Stevens was a little rough around the edges, as Delin had warned.  Stevens gathered the group and began assigning neighborhoods for the day.  He got to work on his own block and after lunch he took a stroll over to Delin’s home.  The house was still perched on a little hill, just a short walk from the mill and town center. 

 

 

“I hope you are up for a little hike, my friend,” blurted Delin as he marched down the main staircase. 

“You’ve just summed up about every day of my working career, sir,” shot back Stevens.

The two men trooped along the dusty roads of Porthaven, enjoying the cool spring air.  Soon, the well-trodden dirt roads gave way to smaller trails and the civilization quickly surrendered to nature.

 

 

“These hikes take me back twenty years,” observed Delin.  “Back then, I didn’t think we could ever fell enough trees to eke out a spot for a town.  The forests were so thick you could saw for days on end and barely make a dent.”

Stevens kept pace with his friend, listening to the rhythm of his footsteps. 

Delin continued, “It was hard.  Grueling in fact.  But God… I loved it.  I look back now… They were good times.  Hard, good times.”

“All that hard work has birthed a town from nothing, it must be satisfying to be able to look back from where you stand now,” said Stevens.

 

 

“Hmm,” sighed Delin, looking off into the trees.  “Everything starts simply enough.  It’s often hard to appreciate at the time, but as the world grows more complex we lose sight of the straightforward path.  I did.  And in the end, it cost me everything.”

The trail emerged from the trees and off in the distance Stevens spotted a track of rail slicing through the brush.

 

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you Nicholas.  Most folks would trade their right arm for the land under a township this size,” replied Stevens.

Delin flashed a disheartened smile.  “The honest man might make that trade.  A lesser man would snatch it away without remorse.”

Delin paused.  “It’s just around this clump of trees, we’re almost there.”

As the two men cleared the last tree, Stevens eyes grew wide.

 

 

“About the time Northern Pacific came looking around for a terminus port, I offered to sell a huge swath of this waterfront property, thinking it would seal the deal and bring the railroad to Porthaven,” Delin continued.  “I needed the cash to clear some debts and the lumber prices were hitting rock bottom, so the final negotiated price was akin to stealing.  But in the back of my mind, I knew the announcement of a railroad terminus in Porthaven would boost my land holdings twenty fold.”

Delin chuckled.  “Unfortunately, that didn’t quite work out.  After the Steamer Bay swindle, I had nothing.  I was forced to sell nearly everything just to balance the books.  Porthaven is now a Northern Pacific town…”

 

 

“Nothing?  It’s really all gone?” Stevens couldn’t quite wrap his head around what Delin had just said. 

Delin started down the path leading to the port.  “I still have my health, loving friends and family and a home… it’s more than I can say about the vultures who took everything else.”

Stevens was silent.  He didn’t know what to say to console his friend.

Delin continued, “It would be disingenuous to say that I wasn’t bitter at the railroad.  I spent much of the past few years eaten by hatred, and it felt right to hate them.  But at the end of each day, nothing had changed… my mood never improved.”

The two hiked down near the waterfront.  It was abuzz with activity – wagons, workers and horses moving in all directions at once.  Stevens followed Delin across the railroad tracks and up a small hill near the port.

 

 

The two travelers proceeded up a watch tower overlooking the sound and mouth of the Delin River.

“This is my favorite spot,” announced Delin.  “Little by little, I let the bitterness escape through my clenched fists.  Eventually I rediscovered what drew me to this frontier in the first place.”

The two men gazed out across the water.  Gulls were calling down by the harbor, and the salt air permeated everything.

 

 

“You are a stronger man than I,” admitted Stevens.  “I don’t know how I could settle with losing everything.”

The town founder sighed.  “I have fewer years ahead than behind.  Time is more valuable than any worldly wealth, and I intend to spend every last grain of sand in my hourglass.”

“And besides,” Delin smiled, “it’s not all gone.  I still have some swampland to the east of town… I’d probably have trouble giving it away.”

“Hmm… Mr. Stevens,” Delin mentioned sarcastically, “you wouldn’t happen to be interested in buying a piece of Porthaven, would you?”

Both friends had a good laugh.

(click for full)

[Dazzyls 576]

wesome!

The best 1880 city in SC4 I've ever seen!

[Aaron Graham 4,417]

Wonderful work on these images!!!!

 

I love the details on the construction on the port.

[Schulmanator 5,787]

Great details! The town, the port (esp the port) and everything. I am impressed!

 

Awesomeness!

[Fox 1,444]

That story is so amazing and sad ..

 

I'd buy land in Porthaven .. it's not that far from Foxton .. 

 

Love the port construction and the swamp.. great use of all the props available to you and the MMPs .. stunning job.

[vinlabsc3k 127]

Simply A W E S O M E !!! :thumb: :thumb:
 
 
 
 
I'm happy that you follow my suggestion to add some carriage to the streets

[vivapanda 422]

A M A Z I N G!

[Lyhoko Leaci 770]

• The train slowed around the last bend.  Mr. Stevens was glued to his window, wondering if this was even the same town he visited 10 years ago.  A decade can cloud the mind, but Stevens remembered his first trip to Porthaven like it was yesterday.  The ferry crossing, Fort Sunset, Murphy’s Pub… Porthaven held a special place in Fredric Stevens’ heart. 

 

Lyhoko: A lot has changed over the years...

 

• Most of all, Stevens was looking forward to catching up with the man behind Porthaven, Nicholas J. Delin.  Over 25 years ago, Delin cut through the swampy lowlands looking for the perfect location to start his dream.  All these years later, Porthaven was finally shaping up into the city that he had imagined. 
• As the Census crew strolled down Main St, Stevens couldn’t help but notice how much the town had grown up.  Shops and homes dotted the landscape, and the bustle and hustle of the townsfolk added to a very lively atmosphere.  The stationmaster gave the group directions to Sunset Port House & Inn, one of the newest hotels in town.  Stevens was surprised to see Mr. Delin standing out front waiting to welcome the new guests.

Lyhoko: Seems like a nice place.

 

• “If your schedule permits, I’d be honored to share a drink at Murphy’s this evening.  A lot has happened in ten years.”

Lyhoko: Indeed.

 

• “I’m going to take an afternoon walk tomorrow.  If you can make time between your census duties, I’d like to show you something.  We can leave from my house.”

Lyhoko: Now, what will there be to see?

 

• Normally Stevens would find it hard to sleep with so many questions running through his head.  What had put Mr. Delin in such a strange state?  Fortunately, an evening at Murphy’s made the eyes heavy, and the comfortable beds at the Inn finished the job and whisked Stevens off to dreamland. 

Lyhoko: Steamer Bay?

 

• “All that hard work has birthed a town from nothing, it must be satisfying to be able to look back from where you stand now,” said Stevens.

Lyhoko: Yes, it would be.

 

• “Hmm,” sighed Delin, looking off into the trees.  “Everything starts simply enough.  It’s often hard to appreciate at the time, but as the world grows more complex we lose sight of the straightforward path.  I did.  And in the end, it cost me everything.”

Lyhoko: Oh?

•  “About the time Northern Pacific came looking around for a terminus port, I offered to sell a huge swath of this waterfront property, thinking it would seal the deal and bring the railroad to Porthaven,” Delin continued.  “I needed the cash to clear some debts and the lumber prices were hitting rock bottom, so the final negotiated price was akin to stealing.  But in the back of my mind, I knew the announcement of a railroad terminus in Porthaven would boost my land holdings twenty fold.”
• Delin chuckled.  “Unfortunately, that didn’t quite work out.  After the Steamer Bay swindle, I had nothing.  I was forced to sell nearly everything just to balance the books.  Porthaven is now a Northern Pacific town…”

Lyhoko: ... Do they need ventilation?

 

• Delin continued, “It would be disingenuous to say that I wasn’t bitter at the railroad.  I spent much of the past few years eaten by hatred, and it felt right to hate them.  But at the end of each day, nothing had changed… my mood never improved.”

Lyhoko: Lyhoko would do something about it... but then, most people don't have reality warping powers.

 

• “This is my favorite spot,” announced Delin.  “Little by little, I let the bitterness escape through my clenched fists.  Eventually I rediscovered what drew me to this frontier in the first place.”

Lyhoko: What is it?

 

• “And besides,” Delin smiled, “it’s not all gone.  I still have some swampland to the east of town… I’d probably have trouble giving it away.”
• “Hmm… Mr. Stevens,” Delin mentioned sarcastically, “you wouldn’t happen to be interested in buying a piece of Porthaven, would you?”
• Both friends had a good laugh.

Lyhoko: Does it have leeches?

 

Lyhoko: Now, what will there be in New SorGun?

[SimCoug 5,973]

Porthaven is growing by leaps and bounds each day.
(Click for full panoramic image)



And like any growing metropolis, the need for law and order is a must. Porthaven is looking for a good lawman to fill the position of town Sheriff.



Please submit the name of the applicant below. Hiring will be based on purely on how impressive (i.e., awesome) the name sounds. Nothing more.
Thank you for your participation.


and now...


@Ultimate727: Thanks!
@Aaron: Thanks - Krashspeed really deserves all the credit for those props.
@Schulmanator: Thank you!
@Fox: Don't count Delin out of it yet
@vinlabSC3k: Thanks - nothing a little photoshop can't fix
@vivapanda: Thank you, it's always good to see you around here.
@Lyhoko: Stay tuned, New SorGun will be back on center stage soon.

[simlink 1,098]

Nice work as usual. The NSG seems to be going through the 1800s version of my region, hehe. 

I'll have to think about the name for a bit ...I'll be back with one...

[Snugies 91]

It looks really good and very historically accurate. I hope you continue this city into the future so we watch it change over time. The next big step might be electricity will you do electricity I think 1890's or so, and then get streetcars? and first skyscrapers I think is 1890.

[wwetom1 831]

All that construction looks great! And you've done a very good job with the MMPs. 

 

Colt "Big Dog" Harris and Luke Bryan are some friends of mine who are looking for a job, so I'll let them know you're looking for a Sheriff!

[Fox 1,444]

Nice mosaic .. I love how the town in developing.. grr.. go NEW SORGUN!!!!

 

 

I like Wetom1's choice of "Big Dog" .. lol.. can't wait to see some more ideas.

[SAVAGExPHOENIX 955]

Sheriff Lucas "Longbarrel Luke" Stone, and his deputy Clint "Dusty" Falkland.

[SimCoug 5,973]

@sim_link:  Yay for censuses... censi... more than one census

@Snugies:  We're working towards skyscrapers, but it will be a while for sure.

@wwetom1:  Thanks for your submission!

@Fox:  Thanks!  New SorGun is just around the corner (lots of surprises in store...)

@daTSchikinhed:  "Longbarrel Luke"... I like it!  He may show up at a later date

 

 

Update 36

 

1880 Census – Manhunt

 

Spring 1880

 

 

Nearly a week had passed since Stevens and his census crew had clanked into Porthaven on the new branch line.  The last home was tallied yesterday, and it was time to move on.  Stevens was busy checking out of the Inn when Mr. Delin and the sheriff rode up on horseback.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” announced Stevens.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Blankmair woods nae shaur 'at assessment,” quipped the Sheriff.

Stevens gave a puzzled look.

“It seems there was an altercation near the port last night, and Mr. Blankmore was shot dead,” said Delin.  “The assailant was seen fleeing towards the ferry, which I understand is where you and your group are headed this morning,” he added.

“Yes sir, we were just about to head over there now,” said Stevens.

“The Sheriff is set to pursue the killer, and I’ve asked him to allow you to accompany him.  I don’t feel right possibly sending our guests into harm’s way,” Delin explained.

“We’ll heed 'at way as suin as ye an' yer colleagues ur ready,” announced the Sheriff.

 

 

The old ferry landing was a mess of shacks and some old docks.  The Sheriff spoke with a few of the inhabitants and learned that a man fitting the description of the accused murderer had taken the first ferry across the river this morning.

 

 

Sheriff Vincent MacLachlan was aged beyond his years.  Frontier life was hard, and Vincent had spent his adult life living on the edge of civilization.  A full blooded scottsman, he came with his family to America during the Highland Potato Famine when he was a young boy.  Life eventually landed him in Porthaven a few years back.  He was a man of few words, but he earned the respect of the townsfolk through his actions.  He kept the streets safe and the riffraff at bay.

(Click for full size HD)

 

 

Stevens drew a smile as his group of bean counters in their eastern fashions mingled about with Sheriff MacLachlan in his dusty worn coat and muddy boots.  Still, as the unlikely group made its way across the river in the weathered ferry, Stevens felt at ease with the Sheriff among their party.

“Ever since th' railroad started upgradin' th' port, lowlifes an' scumbags hae bin showin' up lookin' fur jobs an' causin' trooble.,” grumbled Sheriff MacLachlan as Stevens looked back towards the port.

 

 

“Th' miscreant responsible fur Mr. Blankmore’s mudder is probably frae th' sam lot. nae tae worry… we’ll catch th' wee scunner,” he added.

The ferry pulled into the docks on the other side of the river.  A few houses and a shop or two hugged the road leading away from the shore.  While the Sheriff went looking for a lead on his runaway, Stevens and crew took the time to add to their census tally.

 

 

“Ye ur in luck, ay sorts,” chuckled the Sheriff.  “Th' damned reprobate has gain an' skipped town… looks loch ye lads ur stuck wi' me fur a while longer.”

“Your company is much appreciated, Mr. MacLachlan.  We all thoroughly enjoyed the hospitality of Porthaven, and it saddens me to leave, but my spirits are lifted knowing we will be taking a bit of it with us on our journey,” laughed Stevens. 

The group saddled up and was on their way.  Stevens checked off the little box in his journal, satisfied the census of Porthaven was complete.

(Click for full size)

 

 

The road led south, away from Porthaven, and it hadn’t changed much since Mr. Stevens trip through the SorGun region 10 years earlier.  The rhythmic clap of horses’ hooves on the trampled dirt road was soothing to the ears, but rough on the rump.  Stevens and his crew were already spoiled by the ease and comfort of travel by rail, but fortunately their first stop was nearly upon them. 

 

 

Pineford was nothing more than a blip on the map 10 years ago – and as Stevens crossed the rickety old bridge, he noticed that was about were things stood today.  Main Street had filled in a bit, and where grass fields once flowed years earlier, houses and cabins now stood. 

 

 

“Someain haur will hae noticed uir mukker.  I’ll need tae make some hoose calls, sae feel free tae do… whatever it is ye folks dae,” said the Sheriff.

Stevens barked out orders, and the census crew got to work.  As Fredric walked around in the dirt and mud, he quickly remembered trudging over the same streets a decade earlier. 

(animation)

 

 

Towns this size could be covered quickly, and by now Stevens and his entourage were like a well-oiled machine.  Each worker covered a few blocks, and within a couple hours Stevens had one more town to check off his list.

(Click for full size)

 

 

Not long after, MacLachlan rode back into town.

“A farmer saw someain crossin' thoroogh his field puckle hoors ago headin' sooth,” said the Sheriff. “We're gettin' close,” he added, with a wink.

As quickly as they came, the group was off again, wondering on down the dusty track.

 

 

Giant cedar trees flanked the trail with not a sign of civilization in sight. 

 

 

It occurred to Stevens how easily one could disappear off the face of the earth out here.  He began to wonder whether the Sheriff would be successful in his pursuit.  If someone didn’t want to be found, this was the place to be.  Then again, the isolation of the western territories could drive a man to insanity.  After a while the group came to a small settlement hugging a fork in the trail.

(Click for full size)

 

 

A few house visits came up with no information regarding MacLachlan’s fugitive. 

“At way leids tae New Sorgin,” said the Sheriff, motioning towards the right fork.  “An' thes heids up intae th' moontains, towards Foxton.”

For a moment Stevens tried to imagine what way a criminal might choose, but who was he kidding – he knew less about criminals than quilting a four patch.

“Hmmm,” grumbled the Scotsman.  “Ah believe th' highlands ur callin' me haem.”

And with that, MacLachlan nudged his horse and began trotting up the dusty trail.

 

 

Credits:

I’d like to thank all the folks who submitted a name for the Sheriff.  Congrats to Blunder for his original submission – we now have a Scotsman in New SorGun.  I will do my best to incorporate everyone’s ideas into the story, so keep an eye out to see if your character shows up down the road

I’d also like to thank whoohoo.co.uk for their neat ‘Scottie Translator’ – it came in handy

[vivapanda 422]

I love the story line, the scenic little villages and the awesome Scots mixed with it!

[SimCoug 5,973]

Thanks vivapanda!

 

Coming up next week...

(click for full size: 1680x1050)