Berthier Mle 1892 Riposte
BERTHIER MLE 1892 RIPOSTE. (See also, CARBINES, BOLT ACTION) The Berthier Mle 1892 RIPOSTE is a bolt-action rifle with attached bayonet. While not primarily designed for front line service, this lightened mousqueton rifle is effective with an affixed bayonet, making it a reliable and effective weapon at medium and close ranges, while still being light and maneuverable.
Journal of Jed Owenthal
Lightly worn, red leather 4.25" x 8.25"
August 17th, 1895
I am reunited at last with my Anna and her babe. They've got their shine again, they're healthy as I have ever seen them, really. Whatever they did, wherever they went, it did wonders for their health.
It was last night I came home, hung up my hat and my coat, set my gun on the table, and saw them there in the cot, smiling and laughing with each other. I was overjoyed to see them again, such joy, and rushed to fetch them their favorite cuts. Everyday I'd been gathering still, curing and salting the meat for their return, and the outhouse was hung heavy with glistening hinds, rumps, joints, ribs, and steaks.
As I was selecting from the meats, there was a low rumble from the outhouse, a gurgle, deep and ominous. I was ready with my knife. The hung meat rustled, then out stepped a slight and frail man, who made the sound again, then collapsed.
I carried him onto the table, careful of his head round the door frame. Anna said that this was the man that had found them, brought them back after all this time. She wondered where he'd gone. He looked ghostly, like no one I'd seen, his skin pulled so tight like a skeleton. It could've been the stalker, the preacher, the sheriff, but I'd never know.
This morning, I awoke to a content Anna and babe fast asleep. They'd gorged last night, eaten their fill, and the room was scattered with bones and knuckles with the marrow sucked out, hard bits of gristle, and discarded lumps of milky fat. I set to sweeping it out, till I noticed the man was gone.
He was stood in the yard, my rifle in his hands a bayonet fixed. It was pointed at me, his hands shaking. There was lamp kerosene spilled on the house, he'd set it alight, and the first flames were licking up the side
He got me twice in the chest before I closed the gap. We grappled over the gun, scrambling on the dirt, till with one hand on the barrel I pressed it back and back. The bayonet licked at his neck, and then went in, like his skin was just paper. I pressed and pressed, the blood spurting out, till he went limp.
