Our Three Days’ Hunt By William A Read online

  The Argosy, April, 1895

  Our Three Days’ Hunt

  By William A. Bowen

  BOYS sometimes have experiences which concluded that a pack of deer hounds were out teach them lessons they never forget. There is on an independent hunt, which they often

  one adventure of my boyhood days that engaged in.

  memory always recalls like a nightmare.

  We knew they were chasing a deer, for

  It was among the soughing pines and

  they were too well trained to follow any other blooming magnolias of eastern Texas in the game. We knew from the absence of the

  days when Southern planters kept packs of mellow, winding notes of the huntsman’s

  hounds, and hunting was the regular sport of horn, that no one was with them.

  gentlemen. The height of every boy’s

  My heart palpitated, and I could see

  ambition was to make a successful hunt.

  Zill’s hand tremble with excitement as we My father’s plantation was on the noted that the sounds were coming in our banks of the historic San Jacinto river, at the direction.

  mouth of which Sam Houston and his seven

  We got behind a clump of bushes and

  hundred Texans routed the Mexican army of waited.

  two thousand under Santa Anna, the

  In a few minutes we saw a great buck,

  “Napoleon of the West,” and gained Texas’

  with wide spreading antlers tossing the brush independence from Mexican tyranny.

  aside, come bounding and leaping with the The McCaleb plantation adjoined ours,

  graceful motion of a deer in full chase, and we and Zill McCaleb and I were bosom friends, almost fell to the ground in fright.

  and we often roamed about the bottoms and

  “Shall I—must I—shall we shoot?” I

  cane brakes on boyish hunting expeditions asked in fear.

  Saturdays and holidays. But our adventures

  “Lordy! we’ve got to,” said Zill; “or

  had never yet gone further than an early start he’ll cross our luck forever.”

  in the morning and a return by dark, and our Zill and I had been reared on a

  bagging was squirrels, ducks, geese, quail, plantation where the greatest delight of our turkeys, and similar small game.

  lives was to spend an evening in the negro We varied this with occasional tramps

  quarters listening to the superstitious stories of through the woods at night with the negroes, the darkies of the old days. We were at that hunting ’possums, coons, and wildcats with age firm believers in all we had ever heard, fire pans in which pitch pine (called “fat especially in the stories of Uncle Gabe pine”) was burned to “blind the eyes” or Crenshaw, a privileged old negro my father

  “shine” the game when the dogs treed it.

  had brought with him from Louisiana.

  We soon, however, aspired to cover

  “I’ll count three, and then both of us

  ourselves with glory by killing our first deer.

  fire at once,” I said, fearing to take the I well remember when we had responsibility upon myself.

  accomplished this feat. We were out in the

  “All right; but we must make sure

  upper timber in the edge of the bottom one work, or he’ll get us certain as eatin’,”

  day when we heard the long drawn “Y-e-ow-

  returned Zill.

  oo! y-e-ow-oo!” by which we readily

  In a moment the buck had bounded

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  into a clear, sandy spot, where his whole side the prettiest girls to ride home with after was in full view. I got the “buck ague” church, spurred us on to make the reckless immediately, forgot the program, and, instead announcement.

  of counting “One, two, three,” shouted,

  We went behind the corn crib

  “Three!”

  afterwards and bewailed our folly in bitterest Pointing my gun and shutting my eyes,

  repentance, for the negroes seemed all at once I pulled both triggers. It was well I did, for to think of the most bloodcurdling stories to Zill’s gun fired at the same instant.

  tell us of hobgoblins and serpents, and of the We rushed through the smoke to where

  human devouring propensities of animals we the deer had been, but he was gone. A broad had always before regarded as absolutely

  stain of blood told us we had hit him; so harmless.

  hastily reloading, we followed the trail.

  “Let’s go back and not go,” said I.

  To our surprise and glee, we found

  “I’ve a notion to,” replied Zill; “but,

  him staggering around a few yards further on.

  how can we now that we’ve got Angelina and Remembering the awful stories the negroes Melissa away from those stuck up fellows, had told us of the bloodthirstiness of a Read Moran and Sonnie Sap? And after we’ve wounded buck and his carnivorous been telling all those tall yarns? Why, Abe, propensities, we quickly raised our guns and we’ve got to go, even if we have to fight a fired again. The buck fell, and was soon panther.

  dead—but it was from our first shot, the last

  “I’m mighty sorry we killed that deer,”

  not hitting him.

  he added.

  We bore him home in triumph, and

  “Oh, I’m almost sorry too,” said I.

  thenceforth were the heroes of the “But then, it’s worth a good deal to have the neighborhood. Being only thirteen and fifteen reputation we’ve got. Come to think of it, Zill, years old respectively (Zill was my senior), it was no slouch of a thing to kill that deer.

  we were praised on all sides.

  Besides, you know, he might have killed us, This so elated us that we became because we forgot to spit in that horse wallow puffed, and in a moment of reckless bravado in the road.”

  we announced that we were going off into the

  “That’s so,” replied Zill. “And, good

  woods by ourselves on a three days’ hunt.

  gracious, if I didn’t walk in your tracks as we I guess no two boys ever repented of a

  came along through the blood weeds near the foolhardy determination more than we did of new ground cotton patch!”

  that announcement. We had swaggered around

  “You did!” I exclaimed, in horror.

  and bragged so much about killing that deer,

  “Zill, if I’d known that I’d never shot at that inventing tales regarding the long and arduous deer. I don’t see how we ever got back alive.

  chase we had, and the struggle at the death, Don’t you do such a thing again. It’s mighty and our narrow escape in a hand to hand

  lucky we are here, I can tell you.”

  encounter with the wounded back, that we got

  “Well, we’ll take some lucky stones

  to believing them ourselves, especially when and red corn with us this time. I have some we saw how we were envied by every other

  lucky stones I got out’n the last gaspergou’s boy for miles around.

  head I caught in the big swimming hole last The knowledge that the other boys week, and some red corn Aunt Patsy took were chafing under the galling thought of their out’n Uncle Ike’s big box.”

  littleness, and that their eyeballs were seared So it was arranged that we must brave

  with the sight of Zill and me taking the pick of it out and go on that hunt.

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  3

  We scorned to name any game we

  darkness begins there are mor
e noises of a would kill smaller than turkeys. We preferred bloodcurdling nature above, below, and

  bears, deer, buffaloes and even spoke of around you than you ever heard of before.

  panthers—but after mentioning this last, we I do not now remember who started it,

  both went out and walked three times around but our conversation soon turned to the stories an elder bush, repeating “Panther, panther, no we had heard in the negro quarters; and, hard harm come nigh you, when you go to town

  as we tried to avoid the subject, we soon pretty girl buy you.”

  began to tell tales of horror in connection with This was warranted to keep the panthers, as we knew the cane brakes and panthers away from us—though we had no

  bottoms to be infested with them.

  idea of letting one get within hearing distance The terrible stories we invented and

  if we could help it.

  related to each other regarding the cunning We took with us a large piece of and bloodthirsty deeds committed by these bacon, a long- handled frying pan, salt, animals were not calculated to make us feel pepper, a sack with meal in one end and flour sleepy, or to enjoy our hunt any the more.

  in the other, some onions, a lot of ground Each tried to outdo the other in this direction, coffee, and an old, black coffee pot. We so as to appear to the other as really brave and scorned to take sugar or cups, as old hunters reckless.

  never used sugar, and always drank their

  It must have been about ten o’clock

  coffee, right out of the pot while the coffee when I finished a Munchausen tale about a was boiling.

  panther smelling an emigrant party forty miles I have the scar in my mouth to this day

  away, rushing over and waylaying them and where I tried to be an old hunter on that trip, devouring the entire company in its insatiable and Zill had all the skin taken off his lips and greed for human flesh. I made the number of tongue. We then threw away the coffee and people on this occasion thirteen, but

  made believe on our return that we drank it.

  recollecting that this was an unlucky number, It was dark when we reached the place

  and seeing Zill noticed it, and turned pale, I we had decided on for our first night’s stop—

  corrected it to sixteen, and gave old Uncle about eighteen miles from home, in the edge Gabe Crenshaw as my authority.

  of what was called the second bottom and the

  “If Uncle Gabe says so, it’s so,” said

  beginning of the great cane brake. We found a Zill in a whisper, this tale striking him beautiful glen, with long, rich grass in absolutely speechless with fright.

  abundance, and plenty of wood and a good

  “I tell you what, Abe,” Zill presently

  place to sleep near a spring. After staking out said, in a whisper, “I think we did a fool thing our horses we built a huge fire, cooked and ate coming out here without getting Uncle Gabe supper and lighted our cob pipes to revel in to give us a bag of sulphur, and bear and hawk the luxuries of our first real hunt—like men.

  claws, and nine locks of hair from a voodoo.

  I noticed that Zill, while appearing to

  That would have kept anything from us. And talk easily and naturally, had a quaver in his

  ——”

  voice, and kept casting furtive glances about. I just then a low, crying moan came

  knew just how he felt, for I felt that way floating to our ears from across the river half a myself, and heartily wished we had never seen mile distant. We both stopped and listened, that old buck.

  instinctively creeping closer together.

  Any one who has ever spent a night in

  “If it screams and yells, and then cries

  a lonely wood can recall that as soon as like a lost child, Zill, it is a——”

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  The moan grew into a howl, then followed a of provisions at our heads, loaded our guns loud scream, half shriek, half yell, ending in a heavily, placed them alongside of us, and cry like that of a child or woman in great retired for the night.

  distress. Then a silence fell on us It was so My dreams were filled with awful and

  still that we could hear our hearts go “thum, bloody conflicts with lions, tigers, bears, thum, thum.” An owl lit on a tree over our wounded bucks, and panthers.

  heads and asked:

  I was awakened about two o’clock in

  “Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo; hoo—a-r-e—yo-

  the morning, as I judged, by that feeling of o-oo?”

  dread that comes to people sometimes when Zill and I never answered, but dived

  danger is near though no noise or disturbance under our blankets, covering up heads and is heard. I found that I was perspiring and had ears, and shivered and listened.

  that sense of fear shivering through me which In about five minutes of awful some unknown sense conveys as a warning to suspense, which seemed to us days, the cry us in our sleep at times when sight or sound was repeated, louder, shriller, more cannot put us on our guard.

  bloodcurdling; and as its ear splitting echoes My body was covered with goose

  reverberated through the woods, and came pimples, and for an instant I feared to breathe.

  back to us from the hills, the very owls ceased Zill was playing a sonorous nasal solo.

  their hoo-hoos, and the insects hushed their As I heard nothing I imagined I must

  monotonous but friendly nocturnal discords.

  have been dreaming, and was quieting myself Nestling closer together, Zill and I said to sleep again, when, horrors, I heard a soft, nothing for several minutes. Then Zill velvet tread at my head.

  whispered, in a voice which I never should An Arctic wave swept down my spinal

  have recognized as his,

  column, and I felt the gentle but hot breath of

  “Wh—what—is—it—Abe?”

  some animal in my face. Instinctively I

  “Why, it’s a panther, of course; ducked my head under the cover. My moving nothing else cries like that in the woods. I caused the animal to jump back and I heard a guess we had better get up and go home.”

  low growl and the snapping of teeth.

  “Huh! Who’s goin’ to get the hosses?”

  To say that I was scared would be to

  replied Zill, in a whisper of scorn. This broke use language so mild as to be an affront to up the notion of going home that night.

  expressive English. It was not fright. I was After waiting for what seemed to us

  literally scared out of my senses, and each hours, and not hearing the cry repeated, we separate hair of my head undertook the

  grew bold enough to stick our heads from

  responsibility of looking out for itself and under the blankets the better to listen.

  arose in protest.

  Silence reigning we got up. The owls

  I intuitively knew that it was a panther, were hooting again and the entomological and that it would spring on us in a few concert was resumed. We comforted ourselves seconds.

  with the fact that the panther was across the I could not help wondering which one

  river; though we soon learned that for a it would begin on first. I loved Zill like a panther to swim a stream like the San Jacinto brother; we had been playmates since infancy; was no performance at all.

  had gone to school together, had been

  Heaping several logs of wood on the

  companions in hunts and boyish pranks; had fire, we rearranged our beds, put our saddles slept together—I thought of all these things under our heads for pillows, placed the sacks and knew I could not love a brother more.

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  5

  Yet, I must confess that I prayed awed into silence every other sound in the harder right then than I ever did before or woods, had not ceased to reverberate before I since, that a kind Providence would put it into was well up among the branches,
and had my that panther’s mind to begin chewing and bowie knife out ready for the varmint should it clawing on Zill first.

  try to follow me.

  Alas, now that poor Zill is no more, I

  But, alas! As I sat there I heard a

  realize how selfish and unchristian this was.

  terrible struggle going on below. I knew too But I never thought of it then—and I doubt if well the horrible story this told.

  any one else would.

  My selfish fright had caused me to

  Zill continued to snore, but I aroused

  leave poor Zill to the mercy of the monster, him with a few pokes in the ribs. He was

  and he was being torn limb from limb. My

  beginning to fuss about being waked when his heart grew sick, but I knew that I could not ears caught the sound of those muttered now be of service to him, and would share his growls and snapping teeth. He never finished fate were I to descend. So I remained up the his angry protest, but shot under those tree till morning began to glow with pink and blankets like a ground hog into its hole.

  yellow fringed amethyst in the east.

  As we lay shivering I repeated all I

  It seemed as if I had spent a week in

  could recall of that simple prayer our pious that tree. Long ago had the conflict below mothers taught us all in infancy, “Now I lay ceased, and the stillness told me the monster me down to sleep,” and Zill, in his fright, had satiated its greed on my friend, and had could only recall his good father’ grace, and thus been led to leave me alone.

  chattered out, “O, L-o-r-d, f-o-or wh-wh-a-t Slowly and sorrowfully I descended

  we are—ab-ou-out—to— re-re-ceive—at—t-

  from my lofty retreat, reflecting how best to h-y — hands — m-m-a-k-e —us—t-h-ank-break the awful news to Zill's family. Just as I ful!”