Since I belong to a French La. post of 1750 or so I portray a former coureurs de bois now to old to tramp the woods. Instead I now hang around the post, making and sharpening edged tools and weapons, making and repairing leather goods and doing some hunting . My problem is I'm not of French decent and don't have the swarthy looks. Instead I'm a red haired fair complected of Scots decent. So I was born in 1690 or so, not real sure, in Virginia colony to former indentured servant parents. My real name was Richard Robertson. At around the age of 10 our small settlement was attacked by the Cherokee, my parents were killed and I was taken captive. A French coureur named Francois and his Cherokee wife adopted me. They named me "Rishard" Robicheaux. I was sent to a missionary school where I learned French. I too became a trader and could speak English, French and Cherokee. This made me very successful in the trade with the natives. I started branching out and traded with first the Chickessaw and then the Choctaw. As I got older and the threat of war with England loomed I moved farther west and south ending up in the Louisianne territory.First at Natchez then south to Istrouma post. Now at almost 60 years of age with arthritis and rhuematism setting in I stay around the post, sitting in the sun and telling the young marines how it was in the old days. I donated an old grinding wheel to the post and they rigged it up to be used. I sharpen knives axes and hawks at the post and ease around the surrounding swamp and woods doing a little hunting.