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Started By
Message
re: Has anyone here seen the email/article about/by James Martin Willhite, Jr.?
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:09 am to bbvdd
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:09 am to bbvdd
Continued
Late that evening we went for a walk in the beautiful woods. We had gone only a short distance when we came upon Rafkin Mound. Without knowing it we had reached the destination we had planned for six days before.
The trip back to Tendal was uneventful. We caught well over a hundred pounds of frogs in the two nights north of Highway 80. When we arrived at Tendal Dad was not there. We dragged the boat up the river hill and waited. About 8 A. M. Dad showed up. We loaded the boat onto the truck and headed home.
This all happened almost sixty years ago. I will never forget when this eleven year old boy and his thirteen year old brother spent seven nights and paddled a heavy cypress boat over seventy five miles up Tensas River hunting frogs.
Late that evening we went for a walk in the beautiful woods. We had gone only a short distance when we came upon Rafkin Mound. Without knowing it we had reached the destination we had planned for six days before.
The trip back to Tendal was uneventful. We caught well over a hundred pounds of frogs in the two nights north of Highway 80. When we arrived at Tendal Dad was not there. We dragged the boat up the river hill and waited. About 8 A. M. Dad showed up. We loaded the boat onto the truck and headed home.
This all happened almost sixty years ago. I will never forget when this eleven year old boy and his thirteen year old brother spent seven nights and paddled a heavy cypress boat over seventy five miles up Tensas River hunting frogs.
1
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:09 am to bbvdd
Chapter 8
The Turkey Hunt
In the 1930's there was an abundance of squirrels in the big woods of the Tensas. It was not unusual to find a dozen squirrels feeding in one oak or pecan tree at once. It was always interesting to me that the squirrels were selective about which tree they wanted to feed in. There might be twenty five pecan or oak trees, all loaded with nuts, in a small area but the squirrels would only be feeding in one of two of them. When they finished eating all the nuts on these trees they would move to another tree or two and feed on them. They would continue to do this until early winter when all of the mash started falling to the ground. Then they would feed mostly on nuts that were on the ground.
Squirrels will eat almost anything. One of their favorite foods is water elm nuts. Water Elm can be found almost everywhere along the banks of the Tensas River and the bayous and streams that empty into it. The water elms bloom in April or May and form small seed. Squirrels flock to these areas in unbelievable numbers.
One Saturday evening I went Squirrel hunting at the mouth of Simpson Bayou which was about a mile and a half from home. There was a lot of water elm trees there and plenty of squirrels. It didn't take long to kill all of the squirrels I needed. I decided that on the way home I would go a few hundred yards north to open woods and then cut straight east back to the house. In doing this I had to cross the end of a wide high ridge we called the pecan ridge. There were hundreds of huge pecan trees on this ridge. Some of them were over four feet in diameter and a hundred feet tall. There were a few scattering oak trees on the ridge that were even bigger than the pecan trees.
When I was about half way cross the ridge I heard a wild turkey gobble. It sounded like he was about two hundred yards north of me. I could hardly believe what I heard. I knew there were wild turkeys in the big woods but I had never seen or heard one before. I squatted down beside a huge sweet gum tree and listened. In a couple minutes he gobbled again. This time it sounded like he was closer. I sat down flat on the ground and propped my gun on my knees and waited. If he was coming toward me I might get a shot at him. The sun was down and it was beginning to get dark. The big gobbler flew up and lit in a huge, brushy topped oak tree not more that a hundred and fifty yards away. I thought about slipping up close to the tree and try to shoot him off the roost. I had always been told you could not slip up on a wild turkey. You always had to let him come to you. I quietly slipped away from the big tree and ran almost all the way home.
When I reached home I was so excited I could hardly talk. I was trying to tell everyone about the turkey but I was mostly just jabbering. Derwood stopped me and said, "Slow down, quit jabbering, and tell us what happened.” This slowed me down a bit and I told them what happened. I told Dad that I knew exactly what tree the turkey was in and if he would go with me I would show him and he could call him up and kill him. Dad said, "If you want the turkey killed you kill him. I don't care about killing a turkey”. This almost {missing words} put the box away where the kids would not find it and play with it. He got it out and started showing me how to use it. It would hardly make a sound. He said he needed some chalk. Mother found a short piece of chalk some of the kids had brought from school. Dad rubbed the chalk on the lid of the box and tried it. I made plenty of noise, but it didn't sound like a turkey. Dad said, "That will call a turkey”. I didn't think so but I was willing to try.
Before I went to bed I put my hunting coat, boots, a twenty-two rifle, and a box of shells by the door so I could slip out of the house without disturbing everyone. Dad saw the twenty-two rifle and said I needed to take a shotgun. He said I should take his L C Smith twelve gauge and some no. Six shot and that was what I did.
When I finally went to bed I was so excited I could hardly sleep. When I thought it was time to go I got up and slipped out of the house. The morning star was well above the trees and I knew I was too early. I crossed the river in a boat instead of using the bridge. There was a soft moonlight but it was still dark in the Big Woods. I had about a mile to go back to where the big turkey was. It was slow traveling in the dark.
When I reached the big gum tree where I had sat the evening before it was still dark. I sat down and placed the shotgun on one side of me and the turkey call on the other. Then I waited, and waited and waited. Finally I heard a red bird call. I knew the light would soon come.
When it started getting daylight three deer passed within fifty yards of me. They never knew I was there. By the time the deer were out of sight a drove of about ten wild hogs came up behind me. I know they didn't see me but they must have smelled me. They took off running and snorting and blowing. I just knew my turkey hunt was over. When all of the noise quieted down it was broad open daylight. I had not heard a peep from the turkey. A few minutes later the turkey gobbled. I picked up the turkey box and made a light call. It sounded horrible. The turkey gobbled again. Soon I heard him cluck. Then he clucked again. I made another soft call. The turkey gobbled again and flew down. Then I heard him coming through the woods clucking. He was coming straight to me. When he was about seventy five yards from me I saw him. He was walking fast with his head high. When he was about forty yards from me he went behind a tree. I knew he was still coming toward me but I could not see him. I had the shot gun braced over my knees. When he was about twelve yards away he stepped out from behind the tree and stopped dead still. I drew a fine bead on his head and squeezed the trigger. When I did this all hell broke loose. The recoil from the gun slammed me back against the tree and knocked the breath out of me. The shot gun fell to the ground and I couldn't find it. The turkey was flouncing and flopping and jumping six feet high. I ran to the turkey with the intention of catching him with my hands if he started to run away. He was flipping and flouncing so hard I was afraid to get close to him. I ran back to the tree and got the gun and reloaded it. By the time I got back to the turkey he had quieted down. I picked him up and headed home. I was a proud little twelve year old turkey hunter.
The Turkey Hunt
In the 1930's there was an abundance of squirrels in the big woods of the Tensas. It was not unusual to find a dozen squirrels feeding in one oak or pecan tree at once. It was always interesting to me that the squirrels were selective about which tree they wanted to feed in. There might be twenty five pecan or oak trees, all loaded with nuts, in a small area but the squirrels would only be feeding in one of two of them. When they finished eating all the nuts on these trees they would move to another tree or two and feed on them. They would continue to do this until early winter when all of the mash started falling to the ground. Then they would feed mostly on nuts that were on the ground.
Squirrels will eat almost anything. One of their favorite foods is water elm nuts. Water Elm can be found almost everywhere along the banks of the Tensas River and the bayous and streams that empty into it. The water elms bloom in April or May and form small seed. Squirrels flock to these areas in unbelievable numbers.
One Saturday evening I went Squirrel hunting at the mouth of Simpson Bayou which was about a mile and a half from home. There was a lot of water elm trees there and plenty of squirrels. It didn't take long to kill all of the squirrels I needed. I decided that on the way home I would go a few hundred yards north to open woods and then cut straight east back to the house. In doing this I had to cross the end of a wide high ridge we called the pecan ridge. There were hundreds of huge pecan trees on this ridge. Some of them were over four feet in diameter and a hundred feet tall. There were a few scattering oak trees on the ridge that were even bigger than the pecan trees.
When I was about half way cross the ridge I heard a wild turkey gobble. It sounded like he was about two hundred yards north of me. I could hardly believe what I heard. I knew there were wild turkeys in the big woods but I had never seen or heard one before. I squatted down beside a huge sweet gum tree and listened. In a couple minutes he gobbled again. This time it sounded like he was closer. I sat down flat on the ground and propped my gun on my knees and waited. If he was coming toward me I might get a shot at him. The sun was down and it was beginning to get dark. The big gobbler flew up and lit in a huge, brushy topped oak tree not more that a hundred and fifty yards away. I thought about slipping up close to the tree and try to shoot him off the roost. I had always been told you could not slip up on a wild turkey. You always had to let him come to you. I quietly slipped away from the big tree and ran almost all the way home.
When I reached home I was so excited I could hardly talk. I was trying to tell everyone about the turkey but I was mostly just jabbering. Derwood stopped me and said, "Slow down, quit jabbering, and tell us what happened.” This slowed me down a bit and I told them what happened. I told Dad that I knew exactly what tree the turkey was in and if he would go with me I would show him and he could call him up and kill him. Dad said, "If you want the turkey killed you kill him. I don't care about killing a turkey”. This almost {missing words} put the box away where the kids would not find it and play with it. He got it out and started showing me how to use it. It would hardly make a sound. He said he needed some chalk. Mother found a short piece of chalk some of the kids had brought from school. Dad rubbed the chalk on the lid of the box and tried it. I made plenty of noise, but it didn't sound like a turkey. Dad said, "That will call a turkey”. I didn't think so but I was willing to try.
Before I went to bed I put my hunting coat, boots, a twenty-two rifle, and a box of shells by the door so I could slip out of the house without disturbing everyone. Dad saw the twenty-two rifle and said I needed to take a shotgun. He said I should take his L C Smith twelve gauge and some no. Six shot and that was what I did.
When I finally went to bed I was so excited I could hardly sleep. When I thought it was time to go I got up and slipped out of the house. The morning star was well above the trees and I knew I was too early. I crossed the river in a boat instead of using the bridge. There was a soft moonlight but it was still dark in the Big Woods. I had about a mile to go back to where the big turkey was. It was slow traveling in the dark.
When I reached the big gum tree where I had sat the evening before it was still dark. I sat down and placed the shotgun on one side of me and the turkey call on the other. Then I waited, and waited and waited. Finally I heard a red bird call. I knew the light would soon come.
When it started getting daylight three deer passed within fifty yards of me. They never knew I was there. By the time the deer were out of sight a drove of about ten wild hogs came up behind me. I know they didn't see me but they must have smelled me. They took off running and snorting and blowing. I just knew my turkey hunt was over. When all of the noise quieted down it was broad open daylight. I had not heard a peep from the turkey. A few minutes later the turkey gobbled. I picked up the turkey box and made a light call. It sounded horrible. The turkey gobbled again. Soon I heard him cluck. Then he clucked again. I made another soft call. The turkey gobbled again and flew down. Then I heard him coming through the woods clucking. He was coming straight to me. When he was about seventy five yards from me I saw him. He was walking fast with his head high. When he was about forty yards from me he went behind a tree. I knew he was still coming toward me but I could not see him. I had the shot gun braced over my knees. When he was about twelve yards away he stepped out from behind the tree and stopped dead still. I drew a fine bead on his head and squeezed the trigger. When I did this all hell broke loose. The recoil from the gun slammed me back against the tree and knocked the breath out of me. The shot gun fell to the ground and I couldn't find it. The turkey was flouncing and flopping and jumping six feet high. I ran to the turkey with the intention of catching him with my hands if he started to run away. He was flipping and flouncing so hard I was afraid to get close to him. I ran back to the tree and got the gun and reloaded it. By the time I got back to the turkey he had quieted down. I picked him up and headed home. I was a proud little twelve year old turkey hunter.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:10 am to bbvdd
Chapter 9
We Become Experts
Beginning January 1935 and ending about 1945 the Willhite family made most of their living hunting, fishing, trapping, alligator hunting, gigging the big gar and frog hunting. In doing so we traveled up and down the Tensas River almost daily, or nightly, depending on what we were hunting or fishing for and how we were intending to catch or kill what we were after we traveled at least part of the way there and back by boat. We became so familiar with the river we could paddle a boat from Flowers Landing to Fool River and back without hitting a single snag or log with the boat even on the darkest of nights and without a light.
One example of how good we were at not making noise happened one night when we were cut off from home by a couple of game wardens. Derwood, John A. and I had been to the Brick House fire hunting deer and were on our way home. When we were about three hundred yards down stream from Stewart's Camp we found a big doe. John A. and I eased the boat up close to the deer and Derwood shot and killed it. We field dressed the deer, put the light out, loaded the deer into the boat and started down stream toward home. We went only a few hundred yards when we saw a bright flash light on the right side of the river. It came down the bank near the water and went out. We knew the light was at the end of the big log at Luke's Ditch.
In order to appreciate the jam we were in one would have to know the circumstances. At the mouth of Luke's Ditch was a big log that reached almost all the way across the river. The river was completely cut off except for a narrow stream that gushed around the west end of the log. There was a steep bluff about eight feet high at the end of the log. There was barely enough room at the end of the log for a boat to squeeze through. Approaching the log from the direction we were traveling was two snags that were barely far enough apart for a boat to squeeze between them.
If you tried to go on either side of them the boat would drag the bottom and make a lot of noise. If you made it between the two snags the swift current would try to take over and slam the boat against the bank. If you were strong enough and skilled enough to get the boat around the end of the log without making any noise you were still not out of the woods. Just past the end of the big log was a group of snags that were almost impossible to get the boat through without scrubbing against them. To get through these quietly you had to make to hard left, go twenty feet and make a hard right.
It was decision making time. We were trapped. There were two game wardens on the bank ahead of us and we had to pass within twelve feet of them if we were to get by. Derwood asked John A. if he thought he could hold the back end of the boat off of the bank when we went around the end of the log. He said he didn't know but he would surely try. Then Derwood said, "It's pitch dark. I can hardly see my hand before me. If we try we might just make it, if we don't try we are caught anyway.” We moved the boat slowly down close to the big log. We squeezed it between the two snags and didn’t touch them.
We moved the boat into the swift water at the end of the log. The current swept it around the end of the log so fast it seemed there was no way to control it. From the front of the boat Derwood shoved hard to the left and again to the left then back to the right. As we passed the end of the log someone took a drag off of a cigarette not more than ten feet from us. Fifty yards down river we were in deeper water. We stopped the boat and looked back. One person was smoking a cigarette. They were mumbling to each other. We eased the boat downstream and headed for home. A half mile downstream we had a good laugh. Derwood said, "If you are good enough at what you do and you have the guts to try, you can do almost anything." It was an exciting experience.
There were many exciting experiences back then. One that stands out most vividly in my mind concerns a huge alligator. Derwood, John A. and I went frog hunting around McGill Bend. We borrowed Uncle Carl's small cypress boat. We paddled to Stewart's Camp (about four miles) then pulled the boat across the bend to Squirrel Tail Bayou. When it got dark we lit the carbide light and headed down river.
About three miles down river from Squirrel Tail Bayou there is a place we called the Camp Ground Hole. It is a place where the river is deeper and wider than most other places. At the lower end of this hole was a peninsula that extended out into the river about fifty feet. There was a strip of water between the peninsula and the bank that was about a foot deep, twenty feet long and twenty five feet wide. We called this the Camp Ground Island. When we were passing the end of this peninsula Derwood saw a big frog in the shallow water behind the peninsula. He also saw a big alligator about twenty feet past the frog. We had already turned the boat into the shallow water when John A. and I saw the big alligator.
We instantly jammed our paddles on the bottom and stopped the boat. Derwood asked, "What is wrong. Don't you see that big frog?" John A. said, "We see the frog alright. We also see that big gator.”
Derwood said, "That alligator is not going to bother us. We will ease in there and catch the frog then quietly back out without disturbing him. He is probably asleep and we will not even wake him up." John A. said, "I know he is not asleep. I can see both eyes and they are wide open.” Derwood was getting a little irritated by then. He said, "Come on now, shove the boat on in there so I can catch the frog. That gator is not going to bother us.”
We moved the boat forward so Derwood could catch the frog. Everything went well until the frog grabs snapped on the frog. Derwood hit the frog hard to knock the air out of him. When he did this the frog let out a loud croak. Then all heck broke loose. The big alligator left out of the shallow water like a bullet, headed for deep water.
The problem with that was we were between him and the deep water. The water where we were was about a foot deep and the alligator was well over a foot thick. The boat was exactly sideways to him. The big gator got his head under the boat and lifted it clear out of the water. John A. and I dropped our paddles and grabbed hold of the boat seat and held on. Derwood had been standing up and when the gator hit the boat he tried to sit down and almost fell out of the boat.
The big gator carried the boat, with us in it, about ten yards before the water got deep enough for him to go under it. When he finally got loose from the boat he took off down the river making waves as big as a motor boat.
We were so stunned by what had happened no one said a word for a few moments. Finally John A. said, "I told {missing words}
{missing words} Squirrel Tail Bayou. We planned to hunt to the upper end of Fool River the first night then on to Squirrel Tail Bayou the next. When we reached Squirrel Tail we would pull the boat across the bend to Steward's Camp then paddle the four miles home. It would be a hard trip.
We Become Experts
Beginning January 1935 and ending about 1945 the Willhite family made most of their living hunting, fishing, trapping, alligator hunting, gigging the big gar and frog hunting. In doing so we traveled up and down the Tensas River almost daily, or nightly, depending on what we were hunting or fishing for and how we were intending to catch or kill what we were after we traveled at least part of the way there and back by boat. We became so familiar with the river we could paddle a boat from Flowers Landing to Fool River and back without hitting a single snag or log with the boat even on the darkest of nights and without a light.
One example of how good we were at not making noise happened one night when we were cut off from home by a couple of game wardens. Derwood, John A. and I had been to the Brick House fire hunting deer and were on our way home. When we were about three hundred yards down stream from Stewart's Camp we found a big doe. John A. and I eased the boat up close to the deer and Derwood shot and killed it. We field dressed the deer, put the light out, loaded the deer into the boat and started down stream toward home. We went only a few hundred yards when we saw a bright flash light on the right side of the river. It came down the bank near the water and went out. We knew the light was at the end of the big log at Luke's Ditch.
In order to appreciate the jam we were in one would have to know the circumstances. At the mouth of Luke's Ditch was a big log that reached almost all the way across the river. The river was completely cut off except for a narrow stream that gushed around the west end of the log. There was a steep bluff about eight feet high at the end of the log. There was barely enough room at the end of the log for a boat to squeeze through. Approaching the log from the direction we were traveling was two snags that were barely far enough apart for a boat to squeeze between them.
If you tried to go on either side of them the boat would drag the bottom and make a lot of noise. If you made it between the two snags the swift current would try to take over and slam the boat against the bank. If you were strong enough and skilled enough to get the boat around the end of the log without making any noise you were still not out of the woods. Just past the end of the big log was a group of snags that were almost impossible to get the boat through without scrubbing against them. To get through these quietly you had to make to hard left, go twenty feet and make a hard right.
It was decision making time. We were trapped. There were two game wardens on the bank ahead of us and we had to pass within twelve feet of them if we were to get by. Derwood asked John A. if he thought he could hold the back end of the boat off of the bank when we went around the end of the log. He said he didn't know but he would surely try. Then Derwood said, "It's pitch dark. I can hardly see my hand before me. If we try we might just make it, if we don't try we are caught anyway.” We moved the boat slowly down close to the big log. We squeezed it between the two snags and didn’t touch them.
We moved the boat into the swift water at the end of the log. The current swept it around the end of the log so fast it seemed there was no way to control it. From the front of the boat Derwood shoved hard to the left and again to the left then back to the right. As we passed the end of the log someone took a drag off of a cigarette not more than ten feet from us. Fifty yards down river we were in deeper water. We stopped the boat and looked back. One person was smoking a cigarette. They were mumbling to each other. We eased the boat downstream and headed for home. A half mile downstream we had a good laugh. Derwood said, "If you are good enough at what you do and you have the guts to try, you can do almost anything." It was an exciting experience.
There were many exciting experiences back then. One that stands out most vividly in my mind concerns a huge alligator. Derwood, John A. and I went frog hunting around McGill Bend. We borrowed Uncle Carl's small cypress boat. We paddled to Stewart's Camp (about four miles) then pulled the boat across the bend to Squirrel Tail Bayou. When it got dark we lit the carbide light and headed down river.
About three miles down river from Squirrel Tail Bayou there is a place we called the Camp Ground Hole. It is a place where the river is deeper and wider than most other places. At the lower end of this hole was a peninsula that extended out into the river about fifty feet. There was a strip of water between the peninsula and the bank that was about a foot deep, twenty feet long and twenty five feet wide. We called this the Camp Ground Island. When we were passing the end of this peninsula Derwood saw a big frog in the shallow water behind the peninsula. He also saw a big alligator about twenty feet past the frog. We had already turned the boat into the shallow water when John A. and I saw the big alligator.
We instantly jammed our paddles on the bottom and stopped the boat. Derwood asked, "What is wrong. Don't you see that big frog?" John A. said, "We see the frog alright. We also see that big gator.”
Derwood said, "That alligator is not going to bother us. We will ease in there and catch the frog then quietly back out without disturbing him. He is probably asleep and we will not even wake him up." John A. said, "I know he is not asleep. I can see both eyes and they are wide open.” Derwood was getting a little irritated by then. He said, "Come on now, shove the boat on in there so I can catch the frog. That gator is not going to bother us.”
We moved the boat forward so Derwood could catch the frog. Everything went well until the frog grabs snapped on the frog. Derwood hit the frog hard to knock the air out of him. When he did this the frog let out a loud croak. Then all heck broke loose. The big alligator left out of the shallow water like a bullet, headed for deep water.
The problem with that was we were between him and the deep water. The water where we were was about a foot deep and the alligator was well over a foot thick. The boat was exactly sideways to him. The big gator got his head under the boat and lifted it clear out of the water. John A. and I dropped our paddles and grabbed hold of the boat seat and held on. Derwood had been standing up and when the gator hit the boat he tried to sit down and almost fell out of the boat.
The big gator carried the boat, with us in it, about ten yards before the water got deep enough for him to go under it. When he finally got loose from the boat he took off down the river making waves as big as a motor boat.
We were so stunned by what had happened no one said a word for a few moments. Finally John A. said, "I told {missing words}
{missing words} Squirrel Tail Bayou. We planned to hunt to the upper end of Fool River the first night then on to Squirrel Tail Bayou the next. When we reached Squirrel Tail we would pull the boat across the bend to Steward's Camp then paddle the four miles home. It would be a hard trip.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:11 am to bbvdd
Continued
The first night went well. We caught a lot of frogs and saw a lot of wild game. On a shoal just below the mouth of the Mile Ditch we saw about a dozen deer grazing on deer grass in the river. That was the most deer I had ever seen in one bunch. From the time we left home, all the way to the upper end of Fool River, there was hardly a time when we were not seeing some kind of game or fish. At the mouth of Snake Bayou we saw about ten wild hogs rooting along the edge of the river. On the upper end of the Fool River Shoal we saw the biggest flat head catfish I had ever seen.
When we reached the upper end of Fool River we cooked breakfast and tried to get some sleep. The sand flies were so bad it was impossible to go to sleep. Finally about ten o'clock the sand flies let up some and we got a few hours rest. It was a most miserable day.
A couple hours before dark we decided to cook supper and get on our way. We dressed some small frogs we caught the night before and cooked them and some flap jacks. By the time we finished supper and loaded everything in the boat it was nearly sundown. We knew we had a hard night ahead of us and decided to make a couple miles before dark. When it got dark Derwood lit the carbide light and we started catching frogs. When we reached the mouth of Fool River and started up Tensas we already had about fifty pounds of frogs. When we reached the Campground Hole we remembered the run in we had had with the big alligator the year before.
About two hundred yards from the lower end of the hole Derwood looked back and said, "There is a big alligator behind us.” We turned the boat sideways so we could all see and sure enough there was a huge alligator about twenty yards behind us. When we stopped he stopped. When we moved on he followed. This continued until we reached the upper end of the hole, then the alligator disappeared.
Before we reached Squirrel Tail Bayou I got so sleepy I just could not keep my eyes open. I would go to sleep and John A. would shake me and wake me up. I would paddle a few strokes then go right back to sleet. Finally John A. got tired of fooling with me. He shaped his hand like a big claw and grabbed me by the cheek of my butt, squeezed hard and yelled. "Alligator!”. I screamed and threw my paddle about twenty feet and fell out of the boat. The water was about shirt pocket deep and very cold. Derwood hollered, "You better get back in this boat, here he comes!” I grabbed the side of the boat and with one leap I was back in it as fast as I fell out of it. I thought they would never quit laughing at me. Needless to say, I didn't get sleepy anymore that night.
After that night and for the next twenty five years almost every time I or other members of my family paddled a boat through the Camp Ground Hole at night the big alligator was still there. He always followed the boat all the way to the end of the hole, always twenty yards behind.
As late as 1995 I was told that the biggest alligator in north Louisiana lives in the Camp Ground Hole. I don't think he lives in the Camp Ground Hole. I believe he lives in Hogskin Break (which is about three hundred yards from Tensas River south of the Camp Ground Hole.) I think he only goes to Tensas River to feed and then returns to his den in Hogskin Break.
It has been sixty years since the big alligator carried us for a most unwelcome ride. If it is possible for an alligator to live that long there is a good chance that the one reported to me in 1995 is the same one we saw all those years ago.
The first night went well. We caught a lot of frogs and saw a lot of wild game. On a shoal just below the mouth of the Mile Ditch we saw about a dozen deer grazing on deer grass in the river. That was the most deer I had ever seen in one bunch. From the time we left home, all the way to the upper end of Fool River, there was hardly a time when we were not seeing some kind of game or fish. At the mouth of Snake Bayou we saw about ten wild hogs rooting along the edge of the river. On the upper end of the Fool River Shoal we saw the biggest flat head catfish I had ever seen.
When we reached the upper end of Fool River we cooked breakfast and tried to get some sleep. The sand flies were so bad it was impossible to go to sleep. Finally about ten o'clock the sand flies let up some and we got a few hours rest. It was a most miserable day.
A couple hours before dark we decided to cook supper and get on our way. We dressed some small frogs we caught the night before and cooked them and some flap jacks. By the time we finished supper and loaded everything in the boat it was nearly sundown. We knew we had a hard night ahead of us and decided to make a couple miles before dark. When it got dark Derwood lit the carbide light and we started catching frogs. When we reached the mouth of Fool River and started up Tensas we already had about fifty pounds of frogs. When we reached the Campground Hole we remembered the run in we had had with the big alligator the year before.
About two hundred yards from the lower end of the hole Derwood looked back and said, "There is a big alligator behind us.” We turned the boat sideways so we could all see and sure enough there was a huge alligator about twenty yards behind us. When we stopped he stopped. When we moved on he followed. This continued until we reached the upper end of the hole, then the alligator disappeared.
Before we reached Squirrel Tail Bayou I got so sleepy I just could not keep my eyes open. I would go to sleep and John A. would shake me and wake me up. I would paddle a few strokes then go right back to sleet. Finally John A. got tired of fooling with me. He shaped his hand like a big claw and grabbed me by the cheek of my butt, squeezed hard and yelled. "Alligator!”. I screamed and threw my paddle about twenty feet and fell out of the boat. The water was about shirt pocket deep and very cold. Derwood hollered, "You better get back in this boat, here he comes!” I grabbed the side of the boat and with one leap I was back in it as fast as I fell out of it. I thought they would never quit laughing at me. Needless to say, I didn't get sleepy anymore that night.
After that night and for the next twenty five years almost every time I or other members of my family paddled a boat through the Camp Ground Hole at night the big alligator was still there. He always followed the boat all the way to the end of the hole, always twenty yards behind.
As late as 1995 I was told that the biggest alligator in north Louisiana lives in the Camp Ground Hole. I don't think he lives in the Camp Ground Hole. I believe he lives in Hogskin Break (which is about three hundred yards from Tensas River south of the Camp Ground Hole.) I think he only goes to Tensas River to feed and then returns to his den in Hogskin Break.
It has been sixty years since the big alligator carried us for a most unwelcome ride. If it is possible for an alligator to live that long there is a good chance that the one reported to me in 1995 is the same one we saw all those years ago.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:12 am to bbvdd
Chapter 10
The Frisby House
One cannot become involved in a discussion concerning the history of the Tensas River Basin without eventually getting around to the subject of Norman Frisby and Orlando Flowers. When people get together and discuss the two men their conversation always centers around Frisby, and Flowers is mentioned only as "The man who killed Frisby”.
What I am going to write in this article is not something I read in a book or newspaper. It is information given my family and myself by an old black man named Mose Martin. I do not claim that everything he said is true nor do I vouch for its validity. All I can say is that my family and I believed every word of it to be true.
In order to appreciate Mose one would have to know him as we did. Shortly after we moved to Flowers Landing we noticed that every Sunday morning about eight o'clock a tall man riding a big white horse would pass our house going toward West Wood. Then about two o'clock he would come back by going back up the road toward Newell Ridge. If any of us kids were out near the road he would tip his hat and say "Good day, Master sir". He always kept riding and never stopped to talk. Somehow Dad found out he was a black preacher and his name was Mose Martin. He was so light skinned one would never have guessed he was black.
One hot summer evening Mother, Dad and several of us kids were on the front porch. Mother was reading a newspaper to us, as she often did on Sundays, when Mose came riding up. He rode right up the end of the porch, removed his hat, gave a deep bow to all of us and said,” Master Jim, Sir, it is very hot. My horse is hot and thirsty. Could we please have a cool drink from your pump and cool awhile in your shade? Dad said, sure you can. Just help yourself. Drink all you like and rest as long as you wish. I was sitting on the end of the porch next to the pump. I made a swift dash for the pump and barely beat John A. to it. We had a gourd dipper that always hung on the pump and John A. got it. We always kept a foot tub under the spout of the pump and I pumped it full for the big horse. John A. caught the dipper full of cool water and handed it to Mose. He drank it dry and refilled a couple more times. The big horse drank two foot tubs full of the cool water.
After they had their fill of water Mose led the big horse right up to the front steps and said, "My name is Reverend Mose Martin. I am the pastor of two churches. One on Newell Ridge, the other at Tensas Bluff. Every Sunday morning I ride my horse to Tensas Bluff and conduct church services. Then I ride back to Newell Ridge and conduct services there. It is a ten mile ride each way. I am eighty four years old. I sometimes wonder how long I can keep it up." Mose rested a short while then he got on his horse and left. Dad asked him to come by anytime, that he was always welcome.
After that day almost every Sunday Mose Martin stopped by our house and visited. It was on these visits that we learned about Orlando Flowers and Norman Frisby.
The very next Sunday Mose stopped by our house. This time he came about one o'clock instead of two o'clock. He said he had some things he wanted to tell us and needed more time to visit before he had to be at church that evening. He turned to Dad and said, “Master Jim, Sir, I am an old man. I know a lot of things. If I am allowed to talk to children like yours I can tell them many things they would not otherwise know. They can pass the information on to their children and know it is the truth. Do you mind me talking to your children?” Dad said, go ahead. I would like to hear it all myself. Mose said, Thank you, Master Sir. Dad said Mose, you do not have to address us as Master. Just call me Jim, or Mister Jim. Mose said “I have always been taught to address white people as master. I would be more comfortable if you would allow me to call you Master. Dad said, do as you wish.”
Mose seated himself in an old rocking chair and started talking. The first thing he said was, “I am a former slave. My mother and I belonged to Master Norman Frisby. My mother was in charge of all the house slaves and she and I lived in the main house with Master Norman and his family.” The he stopped and said, "It was not really the main house we lived in, but a small two room house that was attached to the south side of the main house." Then he continued. "Madam Anna (Master Norman's wife) was very young and inexperienced. She depended on my mother for almost everything. She often said that if she did not have my mother to help her she would go back to Mississippi where she came from.” With that Mose stopped talking. He sat for a long time as if he was considering what to say next.
Finally he said, "God has been good to me. He allowed me to be born to a good mother. He also allowed me to be raised in the main house with my masters. He saw to it that I was provided a good education. I was provided the same education the Master's children were, and taught by the same teacher. God gave me all of this for a reason. He expected me to go forth in this world and preach the Gospel. And that I will do until the day I die.” Mose sat for well over an hour telling us stories about his childhood as a slave. Finally when he got up to leave he turned to us kids and said, "We will continue our lesson next Sunday.” And so we did. The next Sunday and for many Sundays thereafter he was always there, promptly at one o'clock, ready to tell his stories to his new found family of children.
One Sunday when Mose was ready to start telling his stories Dad said, "Mose, tell me about Orlando Flowers. We know he was an important man but we have never heard much about him.
Mose said, “Master Orlando Flowers had more to do with the settlement and development of this area than Master Frisby. He and his family moved from Sharkey County Mississippi to Tensas Parish in the late 1840's. This was several years before Master Norman Frisby arrived. He established his empire on the banks of Tensas River about one mile down river from the mouth of Mill Bayou. He built a steamboat landing just down the hill from the cotton gin and called it Flowers Landing. It was not long before the entire Empire was referred to as the "Flowers Landing Plantation" By the time Master Frisby arrived into the area Master Flowers had already carved out a sizeable plantation and was making money raising cotton. He also raised mules, lots of them. He raised the mules, broke them to the plow and saddle and sold them to other plantations from Memphis to New Orleans. With a good steamboat landing, a new gin, plenty of rich land and over fifty slaves he was destined to prosper. And he did.” With that he dropped the subject of Flowers. He told a couple short stories about his childhood and left, reminding us he would return next Sunday.
Continued
The Frisby House
One cannot become involved in a discussion concerning the history of the Tensas River Basin without eventually getting around to the subject of Norman Frisby and Orlando Flowers. When people get together and discuss the two men their conversation always centers around Frisby, and Flowers is mentioned only as "The man who killed Frisby”.
What I am going to write in this article is not something I read in a book or newspaper. It is information given my family and myself by an old black man named Mose Martin. I do not claim that everything he said is true nor do I vouch for its validity. All I can say is that my family and I believed every word of it to be true.
In order to appreciate Mose one would have to know him as we did. Shortly after we moved to Flowers Landing we noticed that every Sunday morning about eight o'clock a tall man riding a big white horse would pass our house going toward West Wood. Then about two o'clock he would come back by going back up the road toward Newell Ridge. If any of us kids were out near the road he would tip his hat and say "Good day, Master sir". He always kept riding and never stopped to talk. Somehow Dad found out he was a black preacher and his name was Mose Martin. He was so light skinned one would never have guessed he was black.
One hot summer evening Mother, Dad and several of us kids were on the front porch. Mother was reading a newspaper to us, as she often did on Sundays, when Mose came riding up. He rode right up the end of the porch, removed his hat, gave a deep bow to all of us and said,” Master Jim, Sir, it is very hot. My horse is hot and thirsty. Could we please have a cool drink from your pump and cool awhile in your shade? Dad said, sure you can. Just help yourself. Drink all you like and rest as long as you wish. I was sitting on the end of the porch next to the pump. I made a swift dash for the pump and barely beat John A. to it. We had a gourd dipper that always hung on the pump and John A. got it. We always kept a foot tub under the spout of the pump and I pumped it full for the big horse. John A. caught the dipper full of cool water and handed it to Mose. He drank it dry and refilled a couple more times. The big horse drank two foot tubs full of the cool water.
After they had their fill of water Mose led the big horse right up to the front steps and said, "My name is Reverend Mose Martin. I am the pastor of two churches. One on Newell Ridge, the other at Tensas Bluff. Every Sunday morning I ride my horse to Tensas Bluff and conduct church services. Then I ride back to Newell Ridge and conduct services there. It is a ten mile ride each way. I am eighty four years old. I sometimes wonder how long I can keep it up." Mose rested a short while then he got on his horse and left. Dad asked him to come by anytime, that he was always welcome.
After that day almost every Sunday Mose Martin stopped by our house and visited. It was on these visits that we learned about Orlando Flowers and Norman Frisby.
The very next Sunday Mose stopped by our house. This time he came about one o'clock instead of two o'clock. He said he had some things he wanted to tell us and needed more time to visit before he had to be at church that evening. He turned to Dad and said, “Master Jim, Sir, I am an old man. I know a lot of things. If I am allowed to talk to children like yours I can tell them many things they would not otherwise know. They can pass the information on to their children and know it is the truth. Do you mind me talking to your children?” Dad said, go ahead. I would like to hear it all myself. Mose said, Thank you, Master Sir. Dad said Mose, you do not have to address us as Master. Just call me Jim, or Mister Jim. Mose said “I have always been taught to address white people as master. I would be more comfortable if you would allow me to call you Master. Dad said, do as you wish.”
Mose seated himself in an old rocking chair and started talking. The first thing he said was, “I am a former slave. My mother and I belonged to Master Norman Frisby. My mother was in charge of all the house slaves and she and I lived in the main house with Master Norman and his family.” The he stopped and said, "It was not really the main house we lived in, but a small two room house that was attached to the south side of the main house." Then he continued. "Madam Anna (Master Norman's wife) was very young and inexperienced. She depended on my mother for almost everything. She often said that if she did not have my mother to help her she would go back to Mississippi where she came from.” With that Mose stopped talking. He sat for a long time as if he was considering what to say next.
Finally he said, "God has been good to me. He allowed me to be born to a good mother. He also allowed me to be raised in the main house with my masters. He saw to it that I was provided a good education. I was provided the same education the Master's children were, and taught by the same teacher. God gave me all of this for a reason. He expected me to go forth in this world and preach the Gospel. And that I will do until the day I die.” Mose sat for well over an hour telling us stories about his childhood as a slave. Finally when he got up to leave he turned to us kids and said, "We will continue our lesson next Sunday.” And so we did. The next Sunday and for many Sundays thereafter he was always there, promptly at one o'clock, ready to tell his stories to his new found family of children.
One Sunday when Mose was ready to start telling his stories Dad said, "Mose, tell me about Orlando Flowers. We know he was an important man but we have never heard much about him.
Mose said, “Master Orlando Flowers had more to do with the settlement and development of this area than Master Frisby. He and his family moved from Sharkey County Mississippi to Tensas Parish in the late 1840's. This was several years before Master Norman Frisby arrived. He established his empire on the banks of Tensas River about one mile down river from the mouth of Mill Bayou. He built a steamboat landing just down the hill from the cotton gin and called it Flowers Landing. It was not long before the entire Empire was referred to as the "Flowers Landing Plantation" By the time Master Frisby arrived into the area Master Flowers had already carved out a sizeable plantation and was making money raising cotton. He also raised mules, lots of them. He raised the mules, broke them to the plow and saddle and sold them to other plantations from Memphis to New Orleans. With a good steamboat landing, a new gin, plenty of rich land and over fifty slaves he was destined to prosper. And he did.” With that he dropped the subject of Flowers. He told a couple short stories about his childhood and left, reminding us he would return next Sunday.
Continued
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:13 am to bbvdd
As time passed it became obvious that Mose's little stories were taking on a more religious aspect. Each story he told contained certain morals that he often reinforced by quotes from the Holy Bible. His lessons (as he called them) were becoming more like a Sunday School class than a lesson in history. After Mose left one evening Dad and Mother discussed this and Dad said, "We are all learning a lot from Mose. The things he is teaching us are an important part of our history. We will do nothing to discourage him."
One Sunday morning we woke up to a cold wintry day. There was a light foggy misting rain. The radio said it might snow. We didn't think Mose would come in that kind of weather. We were wrong. Promptly at one o'clock he rode his big horse into the yard. Dad told me to put the horse in the barn and feed it some oats. Someone dragged the rocking chair into the house and placed it near the wood burning heater. Mose pulled off his overcoat, scarves, gloves and boots and seated himself in the rocking chair. Mother served him a hot cup of coffee and before long he was warm and comfortable.
Before Mose started talking Dad said, “we have heard a lot about Norman Frisby. We have heard dozens of stories about his entry into the big woods of the Tensas and how he attempted to build a vast empire there. We have also heard many versions of why and how he was killed. Can you tell us about him?” Mose turned to Dad and said, "I can tell you all about Master Norman. I was his slave from the time I was born until his death when I was twelve years old. The story of Frisby is not a pretty one. I am not sure your children are old enough to cope with it." Dad said, “my children are young but they are strong. They can cope with anything so long as it is the truth.” Mose said, “I am a man of God. I speak nothing but the truth. If you think they are old enough to understand, then I will tell them about Master Norman.” Dad said they will understand.
Mose leaned back in the old rocking chair and closed his eyes a few moments, then he said, "I don't remember living in Mississippi. I was only three years old when we moved to the big woods of the Tensas. What I know about Mississippi was told to me by my Mother and other slaves at later times. Mother said that about five years prior to our moving to Tensas, Master Norman started selling off all of the land and other property he owned in Mississippi and buying land in the Tensas. When he had bought enough land to start building a plantation he decided to move there and devote his full time to building an empire in the big woods of the Tensas.”
“Mother said the day we moved it was like a grand finale, or a huge parade. She said there was a big boat landing somewhere near Port Gibson and two huge barges and two tug boats were at the landing. Master Norman had assembled a convoy of wagons, buggies, horses, cows, mules and everything else he needed to survive in the big woods. She said the convoy extended from the river to at least a mile back up the road. With the two huge barges and tugboats making trip after trip it took all day to move the convoy across the Mississippi River. That night we camped on the Louisiana side of the river. At the break of dawn we continued our journey. The second night we camped somewhere on Newell Ridge west of Newellton. Again we broke camp early and continued our journey. We arrived at Flowers Landing around noon. Master Flowers was expecting us and had prepared food for Master Norman's family and all his slaves. Master Norman was restless and rushing everyone around. He wanted to reach his destination before dark. As soon as we had lunch the convoy moved on. Madam Anna and the children, my mother and I stayed at the Flowers home. Master Norman led the convoy down river from the Flowers home to Fox's Landing (which is a short distance down river from what is now known as West Wood Plantation) where he crossed the Tensas River on a shallow shoal then north to the location where he was planning to establish his headquarters.” Mose paused for a few moments and then he said, "As I have said, I was only three years old when all of this took place. This was told to me by my Mother and other slaves in later years."
With that Mose changed the subject. He told a couple of short stories then got up to leave. I went to the barn and got his horse. He put on his winter clothes, climbed on the big horse and rode off.
When Mose arrived the next Sunday he continued the story about Frisby. He said his mother told him that Madam Anna and her children, my mother and I stayed at the Flowers home about a month while Master Norman and the slaves built the main house. She said some of the tracts of land Master Norman had bought during the past years had houses, barns and slave quarters on them which they tore down and used the material to build the headquarters buildings. When the main house was completed Master Norman sent a big boat down the Tensas River to the Flowers home and brought Madam Anna and the rest of us home. Then Mose said, “This was to be my home the next fifteen years which was well after the civil war ended."
Mose again reminded us that he was only three years old when they arrived at the headquarters on the bank of the Tensas and he didn't remember much about it. As time passed and he grew older he learned to appreciate the skill in which the entire headquarters complex was laid out and constructed. He explained in detail every building in the complex, its size, shape, type of roof, and which direction it faced relative to the main house. Every building blended with every other building to form one huge complex. It was a most impressive sight.
One Sunday morning we woke up to a cold wintry day. There was a light foggy misting rain. The radio said it might snow. We didn't think Mose would come in that kind of weather. We were wrong. Promptly at one o'clock he rode his big horse into the yard. Dad told me to put the horse in the barn and feed it some oats. Someone dragged the rocking chair into the house and placed it near the wood burning heater. Mose pulled off his overcoat, scarves, gloves and boots and seated himself in the rocking chair. Mother served him a hot cup of coffee and before long he was warm and comfortable.
Before Mose started talking Dad said, “we have heard a lot about Norman Frisby. We have heard dozens of stories about his entry into the big woods of the Tensas and how he attempted to build a vast empire there. We have also heard many versions of why and how he was killed. Can you tell us about him?” Mose turned to Dad and said, "I can tell you all about Master Norman. I was his slave from the time I was born until his death when I was twelve years old. The story of Frisby is not a pretty one. I am not sure your children are old enough to cope with it." Dad said, “my children are young but they are strong. They can cope with anything so long as it is the truth.” Mose said, “I am a man of God. I speak nothing but the truth. If you think they are old enough to understand, then I will tell them about Master Norman.” Dad said they will understand.
Mose leaned back in the old rocking chair and closed his eyes a few moments, then he said, "I don't remember living in Mississippi. I was only three years old when we moved to the big woods of the Tensas. What I know about Mississippi was told to me by my Mother and other slaves at later times. Mother said that about five years prior to our moving to Tensas, Master Norman started selling off all of the land and other property he owned in Mississippi and buying land in the Tensas. When he had bought enough land to start building a plantation he decided to move there and devote his full time to building an empire in the big woods of the Tensas.”
“Mother said the day we moved it was like a grand finale, or a huge parade. She said there was a big boat landing somewhere near Port Gibson and two huge barges and two tug boats were at the landing. Master Norman had assembled a convoy of wagons, buggies, horses, cows, mules and everything else he needed to survive in the big woods. She said the convoy extended from the river to at least a mile back up the road. With the two huge barges and tugboats making trip after trip it took all day to move the convoy across the Mississippi River. That night we camped on the Louisiana side of the river. At the break of dawn we continued our journey. The second night we camped somewhere on Newell Ridge west of Newellton. Again we broke camp early and continued our journey. We arrived at Flowers Landing around noon. Master Flowers was expecting us and had prepared food for Master Norman's family and all his slaves. Master Norman was restless and rushing everyone around. He wanted to reach his destination before dark. As soon as we had lunch the convoy moved on. Madam Anna and the children, my mother and I stayed at the Flowers home. Master Norman led the convoy down river from the Flowers home to Fox's Landing (which is a short distance down river from what is now known as West Wood Plantation) where he crossed the Tensas River on a shallow shoal then north to the location where he was planning to establish his headquarters.” Mose paused for a few moments and then he said, "As I have said, I was only three years old when all of this took place. This was told to me by my Mother and other slaves in later years."
With that Mose changed the subject. He told a couple of short stories then got up to leave. I went to the barn and got his horse. He put on his winter clothes, climbed on the big horse and rode off.
When Mose arrived the next Sunday he continued the story about Frisby. He said his mother told him that Madam Anna and her children, my mother and I stayed at the Flowers home about a month while Master Norman and the slaves built the main house. She said some of the tracts of land Master Norman had bought during the past years had houses, barns and slave quarters on them which they tore down and used the material to build the headquarters buildings. When the main house was completed Master Norman sent a big boat down the Tensas River to the Flowers home and brought Madam Anna and the rest of us home. Then Mose said, “This was to be my home the next fifteen years which was well after the civil war ended."
Mose again reminded us that he was only three years old when they arrived at the headquarters on the bank of the Tensas and he didn't remember much about it. As time passed and he grew older he learned to appreciate the skill in which the entire headquarters complex was laid out and constructed. He explained in detail every building in the complex, its size, shape, type of roof, and which direction it faced relative to the main house. Every building blended with every other building to form one huge complex. It was a most impressive sight.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:14 am to bbvdd
Continued
Dad asked Mose to tell us about Frisby's gold and the silver bell that is supposed to be buried somewhere in the big woods. Mose said, "Master Jim, Sir, there was never any gold buried in the big woods. Master Norman had a lot of gold but it was never buried anywhere. He kept all his gold in a big brass trunk in the main house where it was readily available to buy material for the mansion he was building and finance the operation of the plantation. All of that talk about Master Norman loading his gold on a wagon and he and two slaves carrying it to the big woods and burying it is all lies. They say the two slaves dug a deep hole and put the gold in it. Then Master Norman killed the two slaves and put them in the hole with the gold and covered it up himself. They say he did this to keep the slaves from telling where the gold was buried. It's all lies. It just did not happen."
Then Mose continued, "As for the silver bell. At that time the civil war was raging in all the states east of the Mississippi River. The union army was on the march burning and scavaging everything as they went. Master Norman had about a thousand pounds of silver coins. He carried them to a place in Natchez, Mississippi that made bells. He had them melted down and made into a huge plantation bell. He brought the bell home and hung it near the main house. He stained it with Pokeberry juice. This made it look like an old rusty bell. If the Union army came they might not determine it was pure silver. When Vicksburg fell to the Union, Master Norman carried the bell deep into the big woods and buried. It. One of the slaves that helped bury the bell told me he marked the spot where the bell was buried by driving an iron rod into a tree pointing south toward the spot. Then he went west of the hole and drove another iron rod into a tree pointing east. Where the line of sight crossed was where the bell was buried." Dad interrupted Mose and asked, "How big are the iron rods?" Mose said, "They were about half inch rods." Then Dad asked, "How far is it from one rod to the other?" Mose said, "About forty yards.." Dad said, "I think I know the spot you are talking about. If so, I have a trap not more than ten yards from one of the rods." Mose said, "If you find the rods you have found where the bell is buried."
Mose went back to his story and said, "Madam Anna had more gold than Master Norman. She kept almost all her gold in a bank vault in Natchez, Mississippi. When the Union Army was closing in Master Norman, Madam Anna and four slaves went to Natchez and brought all of the gold to the plantation. Master Norman knew a man who lived in Franklin Parish that made his living escorting people from Louisiana to Texas. He knew all of the roads, trails, and river crossings. Master Norman went to see the man and made arrangements for him to escort a wagon to some town in Texas. After Master Norman was satisfied the man could be trusted he told him the wagon would contain a huge amount of gold. The man said if that was the case they had better get together and do some planning. He said he would be at the main house in a couple of days.
When the man from Franklin Parish arrived he and Master Norman went directly to the barn where the wagons were kept. They picked out the strongest wagon there and rigged it for a four-up mule team. They cross layed the floor with two by sixes and floored it with heavy lumber. They left the two middle boards loose to be nailed down later. They called this a false floor. They put a heavy canvas wagon cover on it. The man from Franklin told Master Norman he would need two slaves that could shoot a muzzle loader, two extra mules, and two extra wheels. He also needed a small amount of furniture, some bedding, cooking utensils and dishes. All of this was provided and placed in the barn so it could be loaded in a short time. When all of this was done Master Norman and the man from Franklin went into the main house to talk money. Master Norman gave him a small bag of gold coins and said the bank in Texas would pay him the rest of what he owed when the gold was delivered. Master Norman gave the man a bill of sale for the two slaves. With all of this done the man from Franklin left saying, "I will see you at the Crocket Point crossing early tomorrow."
That night instead of going to bed, Master Norman, the two slaves,, my Mother and I loaded the gold under the false floor of the wagon and nailed the two loose boards down tight. We loaded all of the other things the man from Franklin said we needed. When it got daylight the next morning Master Norman and the two slaves left the main house headed towards Crocket Point. Master Norman returned to the plantation late that day alone. The two slaves did not return. The fact that two slaves left the main house with a wagon load of gold and never returned gave credence to the rumor that Master Norman had killed them and buried them with the gold. This was a ball faced lie."
With that Mose stopped talking. He stood up and walked out on the porch. He stood on the porch looking across the small field. It was as if he was in deep concentration. Finally he returned to the rocking chair and continued talking. He said, "About a month passed and Madam Anna had not heard anything about her gold. She was becoming worried about it. Finally one day a letter came. It was from a bank in Texas. Madam Anna read the letter and layed it on the desk. She had a slave saddle her horse and she rode off to the mansion where Master Norman was working. My mother read the letter. It was addressed to Madam Anna. It said that two hundred and seventy thousand ($270,000.00) dollars worth of gold had been delivered to the bank and was deposited in her name."
Dad asked Mose, "Did Frisby have any gold?" Mose said, "Master Norman kept about fifty thousand dollars in gold coins in the big brass trunk in the main house. When Vicksburg fell to the Union Army, Master Frisby sealed off one side of one of the dual fire places and put most of his gold in it. It stayed there until his death." With that Mose got up and left, saying he would return next Sunday.
When Mose left Dad said,"I know where there is an iron rod driven into a huge Gum tree about seven feet from the ground. I wonder if it is one of the rods Mose was talking about. My trap line runs right near the tree and I have a trap setting within twenty yards of it. When I pass there tomorrow I will look for the other rod." When Dad returned home from his trapline the next day he said he found the other rod and the arrangement was just as Mose had described it.
When Mose arrived the next Sunday he knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. He started by saying, "Master, Jim, sir you told me your children were strong enough to hear anything to long as it was the truth. I am sorry to say that what I am going to tell them is the gruesome truth of how Master Norman died.
Dad asked Mose to tell us about Frisby's gold and the silver bell that is supposed to be buried somewhere in the big woods. Mose said, "Master Jim, Sir, there was never any gold buried in the big woods. Master Norman had a lot of gold but it was never buried anywhere. He kept all his gold in a big brass trunk in the main house where it was readily available to buy material for the mansion he was building and finance the operation of the plantation. All of that talk about Master Norman loading his gold on a wagon and he and two slaves carrying it to the big woods and burying it is all lies. They say the two slaves dug a deep hole and put the gold in it. Then Master Norman killed the two slaves and put them in the hole with the gold and covered it up himself. They say he did this to keep the slaves from telling where the gold was buried. It's all lies. It just did not happen."
Then Mose continued, "As for the silver bell. At that time the civil war was raging in all the states east of the Mississippi River. The union army was on the march burning and scavaging everything as they went. Master Norman had about a thousand pounds of silver coins. He carried them to a place in Natchez, Mississippi that made bells. He had them melted down and made into a huge plantation bell. He brought the bell home and hung it near the main house. He stained it with Pokeberry juice. This made it look like an old rusty bell. If the Union army came they might not determine it was pure silver. When Vicksburg fell to the Union, Master Norman carried the bell deep into the big woods and buried. It. One of the slaves that helped bury the bell told me he marked the spot where the bell was buried by driving an iron rod into a tree pointing south toward the spot. Then he went west of the hole and drove another iron rod into a tree pointing east. Where the line of sight crossed was where the bell was buried." Dad interrupted Mose and asked, "How big are the iron rods?" Mose said, "They were about half inch rods." Then Dad asked, "How far is it from one rod to the other?" Mose said, "About forty yards.." Dad said, "I think I know the spot you are talking about. If so, I have a trap not more than ten yards from one of the rods." Mose said, "If you find the rods you have found where the bell is buried."
Mose went back to his story and said, "Madam Anna had more gold than Master Norman. She kept almost all her gold in a bank vault in Natchez, Mississippi. When the Union Army was closing in Master Norman, Madam Anna and four slaves went to Natchez and brought all of the gold to the plantation. Master Norman knew a man who lived in Franklin Parish that made his living escorting people from Louisiana to Texas. He knew all of the roads, trails, and river crossings. Master Norman went to see the man and made arrangements for him to escort a wagon to some town in Texas. After Master Norman was satisfied the man could be trusted he told him the wagon would contain a huge amount of gold. The man said if that was the case they had better get together and do some planning. He said he would be at the main house in a couple of days.
When the man from Franklin Parish arrived he and Master Norman went directly to the barn where the wagons were kept. They picked out the strongest wagon there and rigged it for a four-up mule team. They cross layed the floor with two by sixes and floored it with heavy lumber. They left the two middle boards loose to be nailed down later. They called this a false floor. They put a heavy canvas wagon cover on it. The man from Franklin told Master Norman he would need two slaves that could shoot a muzzle loader, two extra mules, and two extra wheels. He also needed a small amount of furniture, some bedding, cooking utensils and dishes. All of this was provided and placed in the barn so it could be loaded in a short time. When all of this was done Master Norman and the man from Franklin went into the main house to talk money. Master Norman gave him a small bag of gold coins and said the bank in Texas would pay him the rest of what he owed when the gold was delivered. Master Norman gave the man a bill of sale for the two slaves. With all of this done the man from Franklin left saying, "I will see you at the Crocket Point crossing early tomorrow."
That night instead of going to bed, Master Norman, the two slaves,, my Mother and I loaded the gold under the false floor of the wagon and nailed the two loose boards down tight. We loaded all of the other things the man from Franklin said we needed. When it got daylight the next morning Master Norman and the two slaves left the main house headed towards Crocket Point. Master Norman returned to the plantation late that day alone. The two slaves did not return. The fact that two slaves left the main house with a wagon load of gold and never returned gave credence to the rumor that Master Norman had killed them and buried them with the gold. This was a ball faced lie."
With that Mose stopped talking. He stood up and walked out on the porch. He stood on the porch looking across the small field. It was as if he was in deep concentration. Finally he returned to the rocking chair and continued talking. He said, "About a month passed and Madam Anna had not heard anything about her gold. She was becoming worried about it. Finally one day a letter came. It was from a bank in Texas. Madam Anna read the letter and layed it on the desk. She had a slave saddle her horse and she rode off to the mansion where Master Norman was working. My mother read the letter. It was addressed to Madam Anna. It said that two hundred and seventy thousand ($270,000.00) dollars worth of gold had been delivered to the bank and was deposited in her name."
Dad asked Mose, "Did Frisby have any gold?" Mose said, "Master Norman kept about fifty thousand dollars in gold coins in the big brass trunk in the main house. When Vicksburg fell to the Union Army, Master Frisby sealed off one side of one of the dual fire places and put most of his gold in it. It stayed there until his death." With that Mose got up and left, saying he would return next Sunday.
When Mose left Dad said,"I know where there is an iron rod driven into a huge Gum tree about seven feet from the ground. I wonder if it is one of the rods Mose was talking about. My trap line runs right near the tree and I have a trap setting within twenty yards of it. When I pass there tomorrow I will look for the other rod." When Dad returned home from his trapline the next day he said he found the other rod and the arrangement was just as Mose had described it.
When Mose arrived the next Sunday he knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. He started by saying, "Master, Jim, sir you told me your children were strong enough to hear anything to long as it was the truth. I am sorry to say that what I am going to tell them is the gruesome truth of how Master Norman died.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:14 am to bbvdd
It was sometime in late fall. Almost all the crops had been harvested. There was a small field of corn near Tensas River at Fox's Landing that had not been picked. About nine o'clock in the morning one of Master Orlando's slaves arrived at the Mansion and told Master Norman that about twenty head of his mules had crossed the Tensas River at Fox's Landing and were destroying his corn field. He said if he didn't get them out he was going to start shooting them. Almost all the slaves were already in the fields harvesting the crops. Only eight slaves were working at the Mansion. Master Norman, the eight slaves and I went to the barn and saddled our horses and headed for Fox's Landing. When we arrived Master Orlando was there yelling, cursing and raising all manners of hell. Master Norman told him to shut up and he would get the mules out of the field. We rounded up the mules and drove them to the shallow ford where they had crossed over. When we got them near the water they broke loose and ran back into the corn field. This happened three times and each time Master Orlando pitched another curse fit. On the fourth try we got the mules near the water and Master Norman roped an old lead mule and led him across the river. The other mules followed. Six of the slaves drove the mules to the headquarters. Master Norman, the two remaining slaves and I went back across the river to see how much damage was done to the corn field. Master Orlando and about ten of his slaves met us on the river bank. Master Orlando started in to give Master Norman a good cursing. Master Norman told him to shut up a couple of times but he just got worse. Master Norman got really mad and rammed his horse into the side of Master Orlando's horse. The horse fell down. Master Norman jumped off of his horse and started beating Master Orlando with his quirt. Master Orlando wrestled Master Norman to the ground. They rolled around on the ground a short time. Soon Master Norman quit fighting. Master Orlando stood up and rolled Master Norman over on his back. A huge volume of blood was gushing from his chest and his throat was cut. Master Orlando held a hunting knife in his right hand and blood was dripping from it. Master Orlando pulled off his coat and spread it over Master Norman's face. Then he got on his horse and he and his slaves rode off without saying a word. I sent one of the slaves to the main house to tell Madam Anna what happened. Madam Anna, my Mother and two slaves brought a wagon and carried Master Norman's body back to the main house. After the funeral Madam Anna sent a wagon to the mansion and brought all of the tools and stored them in the barn. She said, "We will not need them there anymore."
Then Mose said, "What I have told you today is the Gospel truth. I was there and saw it all." Then he got on his big white horse and left.
I again remind anyone who reads this story to keep in mind that these are not my words but the words of Mose Martin as he told my family and I sixty years ago. My family and I believed every word of it to be true then and we still believe it to this day.
Then Mose said, "What I have told you today is the Gospel truth. I was there and saw it all." Then he got on his big white horse and left.
I again remind anyone who reads this story to keep in mind that these are not my words but the words of Mose Martin as he told my family and I sixty years ago. My family and I believed every word of it to be true then and we still believe it to this day.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:16 am to bbvdd
CHAPTER 11
COMING OF AGE
There comes a time in every boy's life when he suddenly finds that he is no longer a boy, but a young man. This usually happens at a time of great significance. It might happen when he is faced with a stressful situation that he is able to overcome and realizes he is more grown up than he had previously realized. It happened to me on a frog hunt to Park Break when I was thirteen years old.
Derwood and I planned a frog hunt at Park Break. At this point I had never hunted one side of a break by myself. It had always been that Derwood or Oliver would hunt one side of a break and John A. and I would hunt the other side. This was due to the fact that while John A. or I could catch as many frogs as Derwood or Oliver we were not strong enough to paddle. Also, when we arrived at our destination we were not exhausted. When Derwood and I left Flowers Landing that day we traveled by boat to the cat bridge. The cat bridge was a low water bridge across Tensas River the loggers built and used to haul logs from McGill Bend to a Dummy line in Frisby Bend where they were loaded on flat cars and hauled to Tallulah by train. It was located about one mile down river from the mouth of Snake Bayou.
When Derwood and I reached the Cat bridge the sun was still above the tree tops. It was about two hours before dark. I asked Derwood why we didn't go on upriver to the Fool River Shoal then walk over the hill to Park Break which was about three hundred yards. He said the loggers had cut the timber in that area about two years before and the bushes and blackberry vines were so thick it would be almost impossible to get through them. He said there was a long narrow flat that reached from there all the way to Park Break. It was about a one mile walk but it would be better than fighting those briars.
We arrived at Park Break about sundown. We found a good log to sit on and ate our cake and milk. My big toe was hurting ferociously. I pulled my boot and sock off and showed it to Derwood. It looked like an oversized plum. He didn't seem to be concerned. When it was almost dark Derwood told me to hunt the east and north side of the break and he would hunt the other way. He left me sitting on the log and went off to my left. I didn't see his head light again until well past midnight.
I was never one to be afraid very easily but sitting on that log waiting for dark to come had to be the loneliest I had ever been in my life. When it started getting dark enough to light my head light the tree frogs and popping frogs opened up full blast. I had never heard that many at one time before. They screamed about two minutes then stopped. There was total silence. Not a single night creature made a sound. Somehow I had the feeling something was watching me. I searched the woods around me but could not see a thing. I was trembling all over as if I was deathly afraid of something but I didn't know what or where it was. The frogs and other night creatures went back to making their noises. I lit my light and started hunting. Soon the fear went away.
I hunted north up the east side of the break. When I had hunted about two hundred yards I had not seen a single frog. Occasionally I would hear a bull frog croak out toward the middle of the break. I started wading into deeper water. When I was a hundred yards from the bank in waist deep water I started catching frogs. The further out in the break and the deeper the water the more frogs I found. Soon I was hunting in water that was from waist deep to shirt pocket deep. The button willows were so thick it was hard to get around in them. Where there were no button willows there were water lilies and tall grass. Snakes were plentiful and I had to keep a constant vigilance of them. And my big toe hurt!
I came across a place where two cypress logs crossed forming a deep ve. At the point of this ve was a big frog. To get to the frog I had to go in between the two logs. The only problem was....there was a big cotton-mouth moccasin between me and the frog. I couldn't go around the snake because of the logs. I did a stupid thing! I "THOUGHT" I could use my frog grab handle and gently shove the snake aside and then pass on by. I had done this hundreds of times before and had never had any problem. The stupid thing about it was I didn't close my grabs. When I touched the snake with the grabs he didn't want to move. I shoved him a little harder and he whirled around as if he was biting the grab handle. When this happened the frog grabs tripped and caught the snake right around the middle of his body. Then all hell broke loose! The big snake twisted and untwisted around the frog grab handles one time after the other. He was biting everything in reach. He tried to go under the log, then over it. He tried to come toward me, then from me. He was putting up one hell of a fight. Finally he slowed down a bit and I could see that the grabs had cut deeply into both sides of his body but he was still very much alive. The water was over waist deep and I knew I couldn't fight the snake in deep water. I decided to take him to the bank and see if I could figure a way to get loose from him. The only thing about that was I didn't know which direction the bank was. I searched the sky for a star I might find to guide me to the bank. I found one and headed out. Soon I found the bank. When I reached dry land I cut a forked stick and pinned the snake's head to the ground. With his head pinned to the ground, the frog grabs around his middle and my foot on his tail, I was able to cut his head off with my pocket knife. And my big toe hurt!
Continued
COMING OF AGE
There comes a time in every boy's life when he suddenly finds that he is no longer a boy, but a young man. This usually happens at a time of great significance. It might happen when he is faced with a stressful situation that he is able to overcome and realizes he is more grown up than he had previously realized. It happened to me on a frog hunt to Park Break when I was thirteen years old.
Derwood and I planned a frog hunt at Park Break. At this point I had never hunted one side of a break by myself. It had always been that Derwood or Oliver would hunt one side of a break and John A. and I would hunt the other side. This was due to the fact that while John A. or I could catch as many frogs as Derwood or Oliver we were not strong enough to paddle. Also, when we arrived at our destination we were not exhausted. When Derwood and I left Flowers Landing that day we traveled by boat to the cat bridge. The cat bridge was a low water bridge across Tensas River the loggers built and used to haul logs from McGill Bend to a Dummy line in Frisby Bend where they were loaded on flat cars and hauled to Tallulah by train. It was located about one mile down river from the mouth of Snake Bayou.
When Derwood and I reached the Cat bridge the sun was still above the tree tops. It was about two hours before dark. I asked Derwood why we didn't go on upriver to the Fool River Shoal then walk over the hill to Park Break which was about three hundred yards. He said the loggers had cut the timber in that area about two years before and the bushes and blackberry vines were so thick it would be almost impossible to get through them. He said there was a long narrow flat that reached from there all the way to Park Break. It was about a one mile walk but it would be better than fighting those briars.
We arrived at Park Break about sundown. We found a good log to sit on and ate our cake and milk. My big toe was hurting ferociously. I pulled my boot and sock off and showed it to Derwood. It looked like an oversized plum. He didn't seem to be concerned. When it was almost dark Derwood told me to hunt the east and north side of the break and he would hunt the other way. He left me sitting on the log and went off to my left. I didn't see his head light again until well past midnight.
I was never one to be afraid very easily but sitting on that log waiting for dark to come had to be the loneliest I had ever been in my life. When it started getting dark enough to light my head light the tree frogs and popping frogs opened up full blast. I had never heard that many at one time before. They screamed about two minutes then stopped. There was total silence. Not a single night creature made a sound. Somehow I had the feeling something was watching me. I searched the woods around me but could not see a thing. I was trembling all over as if I was deathly afraid of something but I didn't know what or where it was. The frogs and other night creatures went back to making their noises. I lit my light and started hunting. Soon the fear went away.
I hunted north up the east side of the break. When I had hunted about two hundred yards I had not seen a single frog. Occasionally I would hear a bull frog croak out toward the middle of the break. I started wading into deeper water. When I was a hundred yards from the bank in waist deep water I started catching frogs. The further out in the break and the deeper the water the more frogs I found. Soon I was hunting in water that was from waist deep to shirt pocket deep. The button willows were so thick it was hard to get around in them. Where there were no button willows there were water lilies and tall grass. Snakes were plentiful and I had to keep a constant vigilance of them. And my big toe hurt!
I came across a place where two cypress logs crossed forming a deep ve. At the point of this ve was a big frog. To get to the frog I had to go in between the two logs. The only problem was....there was a big cotton-mouth moccasin between me and the frog. I couldn't go around the snake because of the logs. I did a stupid thing! I "THOUGHT" I could use my frog grab handle and gently shove the snake aside and then pass on by. I had done this hundreds of times before and had never had any problem. The stupid thing about it was I didn't close my grabs. When I touched the snake with the grabs he didn't want to move. I shoved him a little harder and he whirled around as if he was biting the grab handle. When this happened the frog grabs tripped and caught the snake right around the middle of his body. Then all hell broke loose! The big snake twisted and untwisted around the frog grab handles one time after the other. He was biting everything in reach. He tried to go under the log, then over it. He tried to come toward me, then from me. He was putting up one hell of a fight. Finally he slowed down a bit and I could see that the grabs had cut deeply into both sides of his body but he was still very much alive. The water was over waist deep and I knew I couldn't fight the snake in deep water. I decided to take him to the bank and see if I could figure a way to get loose from him. The only thing about that was I didn't know which direction the bank was. I searched the sky for a star I might find to guide me to the bank. I found one and headed out. Soon I found the bank. When I reached dry land I cut a forked stick and pinned the snake's head to the ground. With his head pinned to the ground, the frog grabs around his middle and my foot on his tail, I was able to cut his head off with my pocket knife. And my big toe hurt!
Continued
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:16 am to bbvdd
After the fight with the big snake I was exhausted. I sat down by a big tree and rested. It was getting close to midnight so I ate my cake and milk. I dreaded the thought of going back into that break. I knew I was close to where we came into the break. I took the frogs out of my catch sack, put them in the tote sack and lay them by a big tree. I guessed I had about thirty pounds. Then I waded back into the big break. After hunting a couple of hours and not finding many frogs I climbed upon a big log to fill my light with carbide. When I had filled the light with carbide and water I struck the flint and it barely lit. I had lost the tip out of my head-light!
So there I was. Somewhere near the middle of Park Break with no light. The light would burn a tiny bit but not nearly enough to find my way out of the break. I had not seen Derwood's light all night. I called out to him a few times but it was no use. The tree frogs and popping frogs were so loud he couldn't have heard him if he had been only a hundred yards away. The only thing I could do was to sit on the log and wait for Derwood to show up. I sat on the log about thirty minutes and was feeling for something in my pocket when I found a twenty two short cartridge. I remembered several years back Dad showed us how to make a carbide-light tip out of a twenty two bullet. I decided to try it. I set the light in front of me where I could see a little bit. I cut the rounded end off the bullet. Then I cut about an eighth of an inch slice off of it. With the sharp pointed end of the knife I punched a tiny hole through the slice. I put the light out and by feeling in the dark I pressed the slice into the hole where the tip fit. It was a tight fit and I could only press it in a short way. With the butt of my knife I tapped it into hole. It worked fine so I continued my hunt. And my big toe hurt!
Soon after I fixed my light something started screaming at the top of its voice. It screamed so loud I believe it could have been heard a mile away. My first thought was that something had attacked Derwood and was killing him. My heart almost jumped out of my chest. After only a few screams I could tell it was an animal. Probably a deer. It was a dreadful sound. Whatever it was screamed for several minutes.
I was not catching many frogs so I decided to hunt back through the area where I had caught most of the frogs I had. I had gone only a short distance when I saw Derwood's light coming around the north end of the break. It looked as though he had quit hunting and was just walking out of the break. When he approached me he asked how many frogs I had. I told him I had about forty pounds. I asked him the same question and he said, "I may have forty pounds. I don't know but I can tell you that whatever I have is all I will ever have if they have to come from Park Break." Then he added, "Let's get the heck out of here. I don't ever want to see this break again".
We went by and picked up my tote sack and headed out. We still had about a mile to walk back to the boat. And my big toe hurt! We caught eight or ten frogs on the deep flat we came in on. When we got back to the boat it was still not daylight. We cranked the little motor and headed down Tensas River. Before it got daylight we caught several more frogs. On the way down the river I asked Derwood if he heard the panther catch the deer. He said he heard it and it was real close to him. He said he thought it was wolves that caught it because it took so long to kill it. He said if a panther had caught it would not have screamed more than a couple of times.
When we reached home it was daylight. We carried the frogs up the hill and started dressing them. There was nearly a hundred pounds of them. Dad started in to brag about how many we had caught and Derwood said, "I know a hundred pounds is a lot of frogs. I don't care if there was a thousand pounds they would still not be worth it. If you ever want someone to hunt Park Break again don't ask me. I will never go there again." Then he said, "There is not another thirteen year old kid alive that would have gone into that break alone and caught as many frogs as Jimmie did. He is not a kid anymore". After that night I was never afraid to hunt alone anywhere.
When we finished dressing the frogs I pulled off my boots and examined my big toe. It looked like a huge strawberry. Bloody water was dripping from the place where I had cut away part of the nail. I showed it to Mother and she poured some coal oil into a pan and told me to soak it a while before I went to bed. I was sitting in a chair on the porch soaking my sore toe when Oliver came prissing by and asked, "What are you doing with your foot in that pan?" I said, "My big toe hurts!"
So there I was. Somewhere near the middle of Park Break with no light. The light would burn a tiny bit but not nearly enough to find my way out of the break. I had not seen Derwood's light all night. I called out to him a few times but it was no use. The tree frogs and popping frogs were so loud he couldn't have heard him if he had been only a hundred yards away. The only thing I could do was to sit on the log and wait for Derwood to show up. I sat on the log about thirty minutes and was feeling for something in my pocket when I found a twenty two short cartridge. I remembered several years back Dad showed us how to make a carbide-light tip out of a twenty two bullet. I decided to try it. I set the light in front of me where I could see a little bit. I cut the rounded end off the bullet. Then I cut about an eighth of an inch slice off of it. With the sharp pointed end of the knife I punched a tiny hole through the slice. I put the light out and by feeling in the dark I pressed the slice into the hole where the tip fit. It was a tight fit and I could only press it in a short way. With the butt of my knife I tapped it into hole. It worked fine so I continued my hunt. And my big toe hurt!
Soon after I fixed my light something started screaming at the top of its voice. It screamed so loud I believe it could have been heard a mile away. My first thought was that something had attacked Derwood and was killing him. My heart almost jumped out of my chest. After only a few screams I could tell it was an animal. Probably a deer. It was a dreadful sound. Whatever it was screamed for several minutes.
I was not catching many frogs so I decided to hunt back through the area where I had caught most of the frogs I had. I had gone only a short distance when I saw Derwood's light coming around the north end of the break. It looked as though he had quit hunting and was just walking out of the break. When he approached me he asked how many frogs I had. I told him I had about forty pounds. I asked him the same question and he said, "I may have forty pounds. I don't know but I can tell you that whatever I have is all I will ever have if they have to come from Park Break." Then he added, "Let's get the heck out of here. I don't ever want to see this break again".
We went by and picked up my tote sack and headed out. We still had about a mile to walk back to the boat. And my big toe hurt! We caught eight or ten frogs on the deep flat we came in on. When we got back to the boat it was still not daylight. We cranked the little motor and headed down Tensas River. Before it got daylight we caught several more frogs. On the way down the river I asked Derwood if he heard the panther catch the deer. He said he heard it and it was real close to him. He said he thought it was wolves that caught it because it took so long to kill it. He said if a panther had caught it would not have screamed more than a couple of times.
When we reached home it was daylight. We carried the frogs up the hill and started dressing them. There was nearly a hundred pounds of them. Dad started in to brag about how many we had caught and Derwood said, "I know a hundred pounds is a lot of frogs. I don't care if there was a thousand pounds they would still not be worth it. If you ever want someone to hunt Park Break again don't ask me. I will never go there again." Then he said, "There is not another thirteen year old kid alive that would have gone into that break alone and caught as many frogs as Jimmie did. He is not a kid anymore". After that night I was never afraid to hunt alone anywhere.
When we finished dressing the frogs I pulled off my boots and examined my big toe. It looked like a huge strawberry. Bloody water was dripping from the place where I had cut away part of the nail. I showed it to Mother and she poured some coal oil into a pan and told me to soak it a while before I went to bed. I was sitting in a chair on the porch soaking my sore toe when Oliver came prissing by and asked, "What are you doing with your foot in that pan?" I said, "My big toe hurts!"
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:17 am to bbvdd
Chapter 11
OLIVER THE TRAPPER
In the 1930's one of our main sources of income during the winter months was from trapping. In late October or early November Dad and one or two of the oldest boys would set out long trap lines and run them all winter. Most of the time the only two people trapping were Dad and my next to the oldest brother Oliver.
In 1935 when Dad and Oliver trapped Oliver was 14 years old but he was as good a woods-man and trapper as any grown man. Dad trapped Frisby Bend and Oliver trapped the east side of Tensas River from Mill Bayou to Tensas Bluff and from Tensas River to Newell Ridge. Oliver didn't like trapping that area.
Almost every day Dad caught more coons than Oliver and he thought it was because there were less coons there than in the big woods.
When the trapping season opened in 1936 Oliver insisted on trapping in the big woods. Dad agreed to let him trap from Mill Bayou to Mack Bayou and from Lodging Bayou to Democrat Bayou then back to Mill Bayou. This was a large area and Dad knew it would take most of the season to trap it out. Dad didn't like giving Oliver Lake Nick (which was then called Locus Ridge Lake) because that was where he usually trapped the entire month of February each year.
The first half of the 1936 trapping seasons was good. There was a lot of heavy rains and the breaks and flats were full of water. When the shallow flats have water you can move into them and catch more coons than in the deep breaks. Both Dad and Oliver were averaging six or seven coons per day. Sometime around the middle of January they suddenly stopped catching many coons. When they had been catching six or seven they suddenly started catching two or three coons per day. They tried everything they knew how to catch more coons. They changed from water sets to logs, from log lets to ground sets and back to water sets. Nothing worked. There just was not many coons there.
There was an abundance of skunks in the big woods back then. Even though you didn't see many of them in the daytime their sign was everywhere. If you saw a rotting log or stump there was always skunk sign around it. They would dig in the rotting wood and eat the grubs and other insects. They would also scratch in the leaves on the ground and eat roots and bugs.
One day Oliver came in from his trap-line before dark. He only had one coon and one bobcat. By the time he stretched the two hides Dad arrived. He only had two coons. He stretched the hides and we all went into the house and ate supper. While at the supper table Dad said it looked as if they might as well take up the traps and clear some land before breaking time. He said he was running a twelve mile trap line catching two or three coons per day and it just was not worth it. Oliver asked Dad what he thought about catching some skunks and opossums. Dad said he didn't know if it would pay or not. Coon hides were bringing $2.25 each. Skunks were only $0.30 and opossum hides were $0.25 each. He said it would take an awful lot of skunks and opossums to make very much money. Oliver said that as much skunk sign as he had been seeing he believed he could catch a toe sack full a day. Dad said the fur buyer was due to come the next day and they would stay home and talk to him about the skunk and opossum hides. Maybe they could get him to pay a little more for them.
We all knew what Oliver was up to. There was six more weeks until the end of the trapping season and Oliver had rather be in the woods trapping than at home clearing land.
Oliver loved the big woods of Tensas. He was fascinated by the huge virgin timber and the birds and animals he was when he was running his trap line. Back then we still had the ivory billed woodpecker, the panthers, black bear and an abundance of wolves. We also had huge buck deer, squirrels, turkeys and wild hogs. Even the days he didn't catch much fur he often times came home excited about something he had seen or discovered in the big woods.
The fur buyer came the next day. He and Dad sorted out the hides and graded them for size and maturity. The fur buyer made an offer for them and Dad wouldn't sell that cheap. They bickered back and forth and finally settled on a price. (This was the usual way to sell fur.) The fur buyer would make an offer he knew Dad would not take. Then Dad would make an offer he knew the fur buyer would not pay. Then they would bicker back and forth until they reached a compromise, which was the right price to start with.
OLIVER THE TRAPPER
In the 1930's one of our main sources of income during the winter months was from trapping. In late October or early November Dad and one or two of the oldest boys would set out long trap lines and run them all winter. Most of the time the only two people trapping were Dad and my next to the oldest brother Oliver.
In 1935 when Dad and Oliver trapped Oliver was 14 years old but he was as good a woods-man and trapper as any grown man. Dad trapped Frisby Bend and Oliver trapped the east side of Tensas River from Mill Bayou to Tensas Bluff and from Tensas River to Newell Ridge. Oliver didn't like trapping that area.
Almost every day Dad caught more coons than Oliver and he thought it was because there were less coons there than in the big woods.
When the trapping season opened in 1936 Oliver insisted on trapping in the big woods. Dad agreed to let him trap from Mill Bayou to Mack Bayou and from Lodging Bayou to Democrat Bayou then back to Mill Bayou. This was a large area and Dad knew it would take most of the season to trap it out. Dad didn't like giving Oliver Lake Nick (which was then called Locus Ridge Lake) because that was where he usually trapped the entire month of February each year.
The first half of the 1936 trapping seasons was good. There was a lot of heavy rains and the breaks and flats were full of water. When the shallow flats have water you can move into them and catch more coons than in the deep breaks. Both Dad and Oliver were averaging six or seven coons per day. Sometime around the middle of January they suddenly stopped catching many coons. When they had been catching six or seven they suddenly started catching two or three coons per day. They tried everything they knew how to catch more coons. They changed from water sets to logs, from log lets to ground sets and back to water sets. Nothing worked. There just was not many coons there.
There was an abundance of skunks in the big woods back then. Even though you didn't see many of them in the daytime their sign was everywhere. If you saw a rotting log or stump there was always skunk sign around it. They would dig in the rotting wood and eat the grubs and other insects. They would also scratch in the leaves on the ground and eat roots and bugs.
One day Oliver came in from his trap-line before dark. He only had one coon and one bobcat. By the time he stretched the two hides Dad arrived. He only had two coons. He stretched the hides and we all went into the house and ate supper. While at the supper table Dad said it looked as if they might as well take up the traps and clear some land before breaking time. He said he was running a twelve mile trap line catching two or three coons per day and it just was not worth it. Oliver asked Dad what he thought about catching some skunks and opossums. Dad said he didn't know if it would pay or not. Coon hides were bringing $2.25 each. Skunks were only $0.30 and opossum hides were $0.25 each. He said it would take an awful lot of skunks and opossums to make very much money. Oliver said that as much skunk sign as he had been seeing he believed he could catch a toe sack full a day. Dad said the fur buyer was due to come the next day and they would stay home and talk to him about the skunk and opossum hides. Maybe they could get him to pay a little more for them.
We all knew what Oliver was up to. There was six more weeks until the end of the trapping season and Oliver had rather be in the woods trapping than at home clearing land.
Oliver loved the big woods of Tensas. He was fascinated by the huge virgin timber and the birds and animals he was when he was running his trap line. Back then we still had the ivory billed woodpecker, the panthers, black bear and an abundance of wolves. We also had huge buck deer, squirrels, turkeys and wild hogs. Even the days he didn't catch much fur he often times came home excited about something he had seen or discovered in the big woods.
The fur buyer came the next day. He and Dad sorted out the hides and graded them for size and maturity. The fur buyer made an offer for them and Dad wouldn't sell that cheap. They bickered back and forth and finally settled on a price. (This was the usual way to sell fur.) The fur buyer would make an offer he knew Dad would not take. Then Dad would make an offer he knew the fur buyer would not pay. Then they would bicker back and forth until they reached a compromise, which was the right price to start with.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:17 am to bbvdd
Dad asked the fur buyer about the skunk and opossum hides. The fur buyer said he would pay $0.25 for the Opossum hides and $0.30 for the skunks. Dad told him he was considering trapping some skunks. He said if he would pay $0.40 each for the hides it might justify them to trap skunks full time. The fur buyer said he couldn't pay more than that. He said the only reason for him to buy them at all was to help his customers out. He said he didn't make any money off them.
When the fur buyer left, Dad asked Oliver if he would like to try skunk trapping. Oliver said he would. The way Oliver saw it was if he could catch ten skunks a day and they sold for $0.30 each that was $3.00. At that time a grown man working at any common labor job would only make $0.65 for a ten hour day. There was a lot of difference between $0.65 and $3.00 Besides that, trapping was a lot more fun than clearing land.
Dad went to town that evening. When he returned he had several cans of sardines. He said they were going to be used for skunk bait. He opened a can and drained the water and oil out of them. With a kitchen fork he mashed the sardines into a thick paste. When this was done he put the paste in a pint jar and with his finger took out a small amount of the sardines (about the size of a black eyed pea) and rubbed it on the top of the trigger of a trap. Then he rubbed about the same amount on the bottom of the trigger. He said that if it rained, the bait on top of the trigger might wash off, but that under the trigger would not. Oliver said, "It's a shame to use these sardines for skunk bait instead of eating them. I love sardines."
Dad went to great lengths explaining to Oliver how to catch skunks. He showed him how to find the sign, how to set the traps, how to skin the skunks and how to kill them without getting skunk musk squirted on him and many other things he needed to know. Oliver listened very intently until he got down to, "how to kill the skunk without getting squirted on". At that point Oliver interrupted Dad and said he already knew how to kill the skunk without getting squirted. All you have to do is to shoot them in the head with a .22 rifle and get the hell out of the way until it died. Dad explained that it was against the law to shoot any fur bearing animal including the skunks. He said if a hide had a bullet hole it the fur buyers would not buy it. If a game warden found a shot hide in your possession you would be arrested and have to pay a big fine. Oliver asked, "If you can't shoot them how in the would can you possibly kill one?"
Dad said, "You hit them on the back of the head with a stick just like you do coons opossums, bobcats or any other small animal. The only thing different about killing a skunks is that you have to hit them on the back of the head. One swift lick on the back of the head with a good stick is all it takes. You can use the same stick you use to kill coons with." Oliver said, "I will have to think about this some."
Oliver was up early the next morning. He had to walk about ten miles and change 36 traps from water sets to ground sets. He paddled the boat up Mill Bayou to the mouth of Dry Bayou. This was where his trap line started. From there he went up Dry Bayou to Little Lake Nick. From there he crossed over a wide ridge into the Lake Nick Roughs. Then he went north, up the east side of Lake Nick to Mack Bayou. There he crossed over the West side of Lake Nick and went south all of the way to the south end of the roughs. From there he went southeast through a series of deep flats and small drains back to the boat where he started. It took him two days to move all of his traps. If he came across a good coon set he would set a trap in it.
The first skunk Oliver caught was a big boar skunk. It had already thrown it's musk when Oliver arrived. The whole area smelled like skunk. Oliver approached the skunk from the front end. He raised the kill stick and brought it down hard on the top of the skunk's head. When he did all hell broke loose. The skunk started jumping and kicking and throwing his musk everywhere. Oliver started beating the skunk with his kill stick. Every time he hit the skunk it squirted more musk. After about ten licks with the kill stick he finally killed it.
Oliver removed the skunk from the trap and reset it. He carried the skunk a few yards away from the set and skinned it. Then he sat on a log to think. If he had to fight every skunk he caught like he had this one he had rather be at home clearing land. Then he remembered. Dad said "Hit the skunk on the back of the head." The very next trap had a skunk in it. He raised the kill stick high and brought it down hard on the back of its head. The skunk rolled up like a ball with its belly on the ground and didn't spray a drop of musk.
Oliver trapped the rest of the season and didn't get sprayed but very few times. He averaged about eight skunks and three coons per day for the rest of the season.
Oliver came in from his trap run one day and told Dad he had been seeing about twenty head of red hogs feeding on a acorn ridge on the west side of Lake Nick. He said there was several shoats in the bunch that weighed about forty or fifty pounds. He asked Dad if he could carry the little .22 single shot rifle and see if he could kill one to eat. Dad reminded him that it was a five mile walk from the acorn ridge to Mill Bayou and he would get mighty tired carrying a forty pound shoat that far. Oliver insisted on doing it anyway so Dad let him try.
The very next day Oliver found the bunch of hogs and killed a nice gilt that weighed about forty pounds. He field dressed it and put it in the game pocket of his hunting coat. He also put about ten skunk hides in the game pocket that day. After about two miles of carrying the hog he began to give out. He decided to skip the rest of his trap run and head straight home. When he arrived at home everyone was excited about the fine piece of pork he had killed. Dad skinned the hog and sliced a big mess for Mother to cook. Mother heated a skillet of grease and put a hand full of the meat into it. When the meat hit the hot grease it smelled like a skunk had squirted a full load right there in the kitchen. There was no way anyone could eat that meat. Mother threw the whole thing in the garbage for the dogs to eat. The dogs wouldn't eat it either. Dad decided that if we soaked the meat over night in baking soda it might be fit to eat. He sliced the whole hog and put in a dishpan full of water and covered it with baking soda. The next day Mother tried cooking some more of it. It still smelled like skunk so bad we could not eat it. Dad said, "We all learned something by this. That is you can't mix skunk hides with fresh meat."
When the fur buyer left, Dad asked Oliver if he would like to try skunk trapping. Oliver said he would. The way Oliver saw it was if he could catch ten skunks a day and they sold for $0.30 each that was $3.00. At that time a grown man working at any common labor job would only make $0.65 for a ten hour day. There was a lot of difference between $0.65 and $3.00 Besides that, trapping was a lot more fun than clearing land.
Dad went to town that evening. When he returned he had several cans of sardines. He said they were going to be used for skunk bait. He opened a can and drained the water and oil out of them. With a kitchen fork he mashed the sardines into a thick paste. When this was done he put the paste in a pint jar and with his finger took out a small amount of the sardines (about the size of a black eyed pea) and rubbed it on the top of the trigger of a trap. Then he rubbed about the same amount on the bottom of the trigger. He said that if it rained, the bait on top of the trigger might wash off, but that under the trigger would not. Oliver said, "It's a shame to use these sardines for skunk bait instead of eating them. I love sardines."
Dad went to great lengths explaining to Oliver how to catch skunks. He showed him how to find the sign, how to set the traps, how to skin the skunks and how to kill them without getting skunk musk squirted on him and many other things he needed to know. Oliver listened very intently until he got down to, "how to kill the skunk without getting squirted on". At that point Oliver interrupted Dad and said he already knew how to kill the skunk without getting squirted. All you have to do is to shoot them in the head with a .22 rifle and get the hell out of the way until it died. Dad explained that it was against the law to shoot any fur bearing animal including the skunks. He said if a hide had a bullet hole it the fur buyers would not buy it. If a game warden found a shot hide in your possession you would be arrested and have to pay a big fine. Oliver asked, "If you can't shoot them how in the would can you possibly kill one?"
Dad said, "You hit them on the back of the head with a stick just like you do coons opossums, bobcats or any other small animal. The only thing different about killing a skunks is that you have to hit them on the back of the head. One swift lick on the back of the head with a good stick is all it takes. You can use the same stick you use to kill coons with." Oliver said, "I will have to think about this some."
Oliver was up early the next morning. He had to walk about ten miles and change 36 traps from water sets to ground sets. He paddled the boat up Mill Bayou to the mouth of Dry Bayou. This was where his trap line started. From there he went up Dry Bayou to Little Lake Nick. From there he crossed over a wide ridge into the Lake Nick Roughs. Then he went north, up the east side of Lake Nick to Mack Bayou. There he crossed over the West side of Lake Nick and went south all of the way to the south end of the roughs. From there he went southeast through a series of deep flats and small drains back to the boat where he started. It took him two days to move all of his traps. If he came across a good coon set he would set a trap in it.
The first skunk Oliver caught was a big boar skunk. It had already thrown it's musk when Oliver arrived. The whole area smelled like skunk. Oliver approached the skunk from the front end. He raised the kill stick and brought it down hard on the top of the skunk's head. When he did all hell broke loose. The skunk started jumping and kicking and throwing his musk everywhere. Oliver started beating the skunk with his kill stick. Every time he hit the skunk it squirted more musk. After about ten licks with the kill stick he finally killed it.
Oliver removed the skunk from the trap and reset it. He carried the skunk a few yards away from the set and skinned it. Then he sat on a log to think. If he had to fight every skunk he caught like he had this one he had rather be at home clearing land. Then he remembered. Dad said "Hit the skunk on the back of the head." The very next trap had a skunk in it. He raised the kill stick high and brought it down hard on the back of its head. The skunk rolled up like a ball with its belly on the ground and didn't spray a drop of musk.
Oliver trapped the rest of the season and didn't get sprayed but very few times. He averaged about eight skunks and three coons per day for the rest of the season.
Oliver came in from his trap run one day and told Dad he had been seeing about twenty head of red hogs feeding on a acorn ridge on the west side of Lake Nick. He said there was several shoats in the bunch that weighed about forty or fifty pounds. He asked Dad if he could carry the little .22 single shot rifle and see if he could kill one to eat. Dad reminded him that it was a five mile walk from the acorn ridge to Mill Bayou and he would get mighty tired carrying a forty pound shoat that far. Oliver insisted on doing it anyway so Dad let him try.
The very next day Oliver found the bunch of hogs and killed a nice gilt that weighed about forty pounds. He field dressed it and put it in the game pocket of his hunting coat. He also put about ten skunk hides in the game pocket that day. After about two miles of carrying the hog he began to give out. He decided to skip the rest of his trap run and head straight home. When he arrived at home everyone was excited about the fine piece of pork he had killed. Dad skinned the hog and sliced a big mess for Mother to cook. Mother heated a skillet of grease and put a hand full of the meat into it. When the meat hit the hot grease it smelled like a skunk had squirted a full load right there in the kitchen. There was no way anyone could eat that meat. Mother threw the whole thing in the garbage for the dogs to eat. The dogs wouldn't eat it either. Dad decided that if we soaked the meat over night in baking soda it might be fit to eat. He sliced the whole hog and put in a dishpan full of water and covered it with baking soda. The next day Mother tried cooking some more of it. It still smelled like skunk so bad we could not eat it. Dad said, "We all learned something by this. That is you can't mix skunk hides with fresh meat."
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:17 am to bbvdd
John A. and I were too young to have a trap line. We always had to help harvest the crops. When we finished harvesting our crops we would pick cotton for other farmers in the area. When most of the crops were harvested (about mid October) we had to start to school. We never went to school the first six weeks in the fall nor the last six weeks in the spring. In the fall we were harvesting the crops and in the spring we were planting and working in the fields. Some how we always managed to pass with a good grade.
One Friday evening after school Dad told Derwood we were almost out of meat and that he, John A. and I should go up Tensas River fire hunting and try to kill a deer. We waited until after dark before we left the house. We paddled the boat about a mile and a half before we lit the carbide light. We hunted all the way to Democrat Bayou (about four miles) before we killed a big doe. We field dressed the deer and returned home without a light.
From the time we left home until we returned it seemed that every hundred yards or two we would hear skunks scratching in the leaves on the river bank. The next day we told Dad about all the skunks we heard and asked him if we could try killing them with a stick like Oliver did with his traps. Dad said he was not sure if we could get close enough to kill them without them being in a trap, but if we wanted to try, have at it.
When it got dark that night we were ready to go. We asked Derwood if he wanted to go with us. His answer was short and direct. He said, "I don't do skunks."
Our first skunk hunt was a rather short one. We had paddled only a short distance from the landing when we found a big boar skunk. We landed the boat and I slipped up to him and whacked him on his head. He rolled over and over and squirted musk all over me. I had to beat him to death like killing a snake. Within two or three hours we killed about a half dozen skunks and got squirted on each time. It wasn't long before we decided that this was too rough. We quit hunting and went home. When we went into the house Dad asked if we killed any skunks. Mother answered, "I don't know how many they killed but they are not going to sleep in my house smelling like that." She made us pull off all our clothes and hang them on the clothes line outside. Then she made us take a bath in cold water. That was terrible.
The next morning Dad asked us how we could ever get that much musk on us just killing six skunks. We explained that all we did was slip up on them and hit them over the head with the kill stick. Dad said, "you are not supposed to hit them on the head. You are supposed to hit them on the back of the head." Then he added "The trouble with boys is that you can never think to tell them all of the things they are not supposed to do."
Oliver found an old work shoe and by using a broom handle as a kill stick and the heel of the shoe as the skunk's head he demonstrated how it was done. He said, "If you do it right you will not get musk on you ninety nine times out of a hundred." He was right. We hunted skunks several years and hardly ever got squirted on. The one percent we did get was just enough to assure plenty of room on the school bus and a desk at the back of the school room.
When John A. and I started skunk hunting it changed the way we arranged our personal hygiene. It had always been that Saturday was bath day. Since we went to school all week the only time we could skunk hunt was Friday and Saturday nights. There was no point in taking a bath on Saturday if we were going skunk hunting that night so we changed our bath time to Sunday. We could see no point in having to take an old wet bath two days in a row. Sometimes, if we got squirted on Friday night, we would have to take a bath on Saturday, and sometimes we would even have to use soap.
In the fall of 1937 Oliver and Derwood wanted to trap McGill Bend and Hunters Bend. It was too far to walk from home to either place. Unless they had a camp house, a tent or some place to keep dry and warm they could not make it through the winter. Dad solved that problem. He took a 4X8 sheet of plywood and made a roof out of it. Then he made four legs about five feet long. He made some curtains out of cotton sacks and tacked them to the roof. They were long enough to reach the ground. When he finished it made a neat little camp house. Dad called it a camp house. Oliver called it a chicken coop.
When the trapping season opened we loaded the little house, six dozen traps, some bedding, pots, pans and dishes into the big cypress boat. When it got dark, Dad, Oliver and Derwood headed up Tensas to set up camp. They paddled to the mouth of Republican Bayou (about seven miles) and went up the bayou about two hundred yards. When it got daylight they carried the little house and all of their equipment about a hundred yards from the bayou and set it up in a switch cane thicket. This was to be Derwood and Oliver home for the next forty-five days. The only contact with the outside world was when John A. and I took them groceries and picked up their fur. Every Friday night, rain or shine, John A. and I delivered groceries to them. We stayed at the camp on Saturday and carried their fur home Saturday night. We never traveled the river in the day-time where someone might see us and figure out what we were doing.
A few days before Christmas, Dad told John A. and I to tell them to take their traps up and stack everything in the little camp house and get ready to come home for Christmas. It had rained quite a lot and the river was deep enough to run a motor-boat. Dad said tell them he would leave a boat in Republican Bayou and when they had all of their traps up they could come home in it. He also said tell them to try to kill some meat for Christmas. That was the wrong thing to say to Oliver. The last day he took up his traps he carried the little .22 Single shot rifle with him. That one day he killed about ten ducks, eight or ten squirrels, a spike buck, two turkeys and two wild hogs. We spent most of the next day dressing meat.
Derwood and Oliver stayed home until the first week in January. There they and Dad went to the little camp and got all of their traps and camping equipment and moved to Singer Shack (which was then called the Locus Ridge Club-house). They stayed there while they set out all of their traps, which took three days. The pack rats were so bad they couldn't stay in the shack. They ran all over the place squealing and fighting. They gnawed into their food and what they didn't eat they peed all over. Oliver got a new belt for Christmas and they chewed in into and carried half of it off and he couldn't find it. It was just too rough. On the third day when they finished their trap-line they decided to go home.
One Friday evening after school Dad told Derwood we were almost out of meat and that he, John A. and I should go up Tensas River fire hunting and try to kill a deer. We waited until after dark before we left the house. We paddled the boat about a mile and a half before we lit the carbide light. We hunted all the way to Democrat Bayou (about four miles) before we killed a big doe. We field dressed the deer and returned home without a light.
From the time we left home until we returned it seemed that every hundred yards or two we would hear skunks scratching in the leaves on the river bank. The next day we told Dad about all the skunks we heard and asked him if we could try killing them with a stick like Oliver did with his traps. Dad said he was not sure if we could get close enough to kill them without them being in a trap, but if we wanted to try, have at it.
When it got dark that night we were ready to go. We asked Derwood if he wanted to go with us. His answer was short and direct. He said, "I don't do skunks."
Our first skunk hunt was a rather short one. We had paddled only a short distance from the landing when we found a big boar skunk. We landed the boat and I slipped up to him and whacked him on his head. He rolled over and over and squirted musk all over me. I had to beat him to death like killing a snake. Within two or three hours we killed about a half dozen skunks and got squirted on each time. It wasn't long before we decided that this was too rough. We quit hunting and went home. When we went into the house Dad asked if we killed any skunks. Mother answered, "I don't know how many they killed but they are not going to sleep in my house smelling like that." She made us pull off all our clothes and hang them on the clothes line outside. Then she made us take a bath in cold water. That was terrible.
The next morning Dad asked us how we could ever get that much musk on us just killing six skunks. We explained that all we did was slip up on them and hit them over the head with the kill stick. Dad said, "you are not supposed to hit them on the head. You are supposed to hit them on the back of the head." Then he added "The trouble with boys is that you can never think to tell them all of the things they are not supposed to do."
Oliver found an old work shoe and by using a broom handle as a kill stick and the heel of the shoe as the skunk's head he demonstrated how it was done. He said, "If you do it right you will not get musk on you ninety nine times out of a hundred." He was right. We hunted skunks several years and hardly ever got squirted on. The one percent we did get was just enough to assure plenty of room on the school bus and a desk at the back of the school room.
When John A. and I started skunk hunting it changed the way we arranged our personal hygiene. It had always been that Saturday was bath day. Since we went to school all week the only time we could skunk hunt was Friday and Saturday nights. There was no point in taking a bath on Saturday if we were going skunk hunting that night so we changed our bath time to Sunday. We could see no point in having to take an old wet bath two days in a row. Sometimes, if we got squirted on Friday night, we would have to take a bath on Saturday, and sometimes we would even have to use soap.
In the fall of 1937 Oliver and Derwood wanted to trap McGill Bend and Hunters Bend. It was too far to walk from home to either place. Unless they had a camp house, a tent or some place to keep dry and warm they could not make it through the winter. Dad solved that problem. He took a 4X8 sheet of plywood and made a roof out of it. Then he made four legs about five feet long. He made some curtains out of cotton sacks and tacked them to the roof. They were long enough to reach the ground. When he finished it made a neat little camp house. Dad called it a camp house. Oliver called it a chicken coop.
When the trapping season opened we loaded the little house, six dozen traps, some bedding, pots, pans and dishes into the big cypress boat. When it got dark, Dad, Oliver and Derwood headed up Tensas to set up camp. They paddled to the mouth of Republican Bayou (about seven miles) and went up the bayou about two hundred yards. When it got daylight they carried the little house and all of their equipment about a hundred yards from the bayou and set it up in a switch cane thicket. This was to be Derwood and Oliver home for the next forty-five days. The only contact with the outside world was when John A. and I took them groceries and picked up their fur. Every Friday night, rain or shine, John A. and I delivered groceries to them. We stayed at the camp on Saturday and carried their fur home Saturday night. We never traveled the river in the day-time where someone might see us and figure out what we were doing.
A few days before Christmas, Dad told John A. and I to tell them to take their traps up and stack everything in the little camp house and get ready to come home for Christmas. It had rained quite a lot and the river was deep enough to run a motor-boat. Dad said tell them he would leave a boat in Republican Bayou and when they had all of their traps up they could come home in it. He also said tell them to try to kill some meat for Christmas. That was the wrong thing to say to Oliver. The last day he took up his traps he carried the little .22 Single shot rifle with him. That one day he killed about ten ducks, eight or ten squirrels, a spike buck, two turkeys and two wild hogs. We spent most of the next day dressing meat.
Derwood and Oliver stayed home until the first week in January. There they and Dad went to the little camp and got all of their traps and camping equipment and moved to Singer Shack (which was then called the Locus Ridge Club-house). They stayed there while they set out all of their traps, which took three days. The pack rats were so bad they couldn't stay in the shack. They ran all over the place squealing and fighting. They gnawed into their food and what they didn't eat they peed all over. Oliver got a new belt for Christmas and they chewed in into and carried half of it off and he couldn't find it. It was just too rough. On the third day when they finished their trap-line they decided to go home.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:18 am to bbvdd
They walked the six miles from the shack to Flowers Landing and arrived home around mid-night. The next morning they told Dad about the rats and that they just couldn't live with that many of them. Dad had bought eighty acres of land at the north end of Big Board Break that had a house on it. He told Oliver and Derwood to go back to Singer Shack and move their camping equipment to the house on Big Board Break. They filled their game bags with food and headed back to the big woods. They had a six mile walk back to Singer Shack. When they arrived they put all of their camping equipment in burlap sacks, crossed the river and walked three more miles to the house on Big Board Break.
The house on Big Board had two beds, several sheets and pillows, a wood burning stove and a tin heater. It was a fully equipped camp. Compared to what they had lived in most of the winter it was like living in a castle.
Derwood and Oliver trapped the lakes and breaks in Hunters Bend for three weeks and Dad brought them food and picked up their fur only one time. At the end of three weeks they had trapped nearly every break and lake in Hunters Bend beginning with Little Board Break, (which was across the river from the mouth of Mack Bayou) including the Big Board Break, Clear Lake, the two big breaks just west of Clear Lake, Grassy Break and several small breaks and flats, Harlington Break and ending with Blue Lake.
When Oliver and Derwood were home for Christmas Oliver applied for a job with the Civilian Conservation Corp. (C.C.C.). A letter came in the mail saying he had been accepted and was to report to the recruiting station in St. Joseph on a certain date. Dad carried the letter to their camp and told them to take up all their traps and stack them at the mouth of Squirrel Tail Bayou and he would pick them up later. The next day they took the traps up. When they arrived back at the camp they cleaned it and threw away all perishable food. With only their clothes and the fur they caught that day they headed for home. They walked the three miles to where the boat was parked and paddled twenty miles home that night. They arrived at home about two-thirty in the morning.
On the way down the river they reflected on the winter's trapping. It had been a hard grueling winter. First, there was the forty-five days they spent at the tiny little camp at Republican Bayou without seeing a single person except John A. and I when we took them food and picked up their fur. The cold rain and sometimes sleet and freezing rain and the long trap-lines had just about taken its toll on them by the time they went home for Christmas. Then there was the three days they stayed with the rats at Singer Shack and the three weeks they stayed at the camp on Big Board. All of this time they ran long trap-lines seven days a week. It had been a hard winter. Derwood asked Oliver if he thought he would like the C.C.C.'s. Oliver said "It will beat the hell out of trapping."
The house on Big Board had two beds, several sheets and pillows, a wood burning stove and a tin heater. It was a fully equipped camp. Compared to what they had lived in most of the winter it was like living in a castle.
Derwood and Oliver trapped the lakes and breaks in Hunters Bend for three weeks and Dad brought them food and picked up their fur only one time. At the end of three weeks they had trapped nearly every break and lake in Hunters Bend beginning with Little Board Break, (which was across the river from the mouth of Mack Bayou) including the Big Board Break, Clear Lake, the two big breaks just west of Clear Lake, Grassy Break and several small breaks and flats, Harlington Break and ending with Blue Lake.
When Oliver and Derwood were home for Christmas Oliver applied for a job with the Civilian Conservation Corp. (C.C.C.). A letter came in the mail saying he had been accepted and was to report to the recruiting station in St. Joseph on a certain date. Dad carried the letter to their camp and told them to take up all their traps and stack them at the mouth of Squirrel Tail Bayou and he would pick them up later. The next day they took the traps up. When they arrived back at the camp they cleaned it and threw away all perishable food. With only their clothes and the fur they caught that day they headed for home. They walked the three miles to where the boat was parked and paddled twenty miles home that night. They arrived at home about two-thirty in the morning.
On the way down the river they reflected on the winter's trapping. It had been a hard grueling winter. First, there was the forty-five days they spent at the tiny little camp at Republican Bayou without seeing a single person except John A. and I when we took them food and picked up their fur. The cold rain and sometimes sleet and freezing rain and the long trap-lines had just about taken its toll on them by the time they went home for Christmas. Then there was the three days they stayed with the rats at Singer Shack and the three weeks they stayed at the camp on Big Board. All of this time they ran long trap-lines seven days a week. It had been a hard winter. Derwood asked Oliver if he thought he would like the C.C.C.'s. Oliver said "It will beat the hell out of trapping."
Posted on 11/8/11 at 10:23 am to bbvdd
tl;dr
j/k
j/k
Posted on 11/8/11 at 11:18 am to AlxTgr
quote:
tl;dr
j/k
Probably took me about 4 hours y-day being interupted by work.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 12:46 pm to bbvdd
Thanks for posting. Derwood was my wife's grandfather. It was always cool listening to him talk about some of these stories.
Posted on 11/8/11 at 12:48 pm to lsu wings
So, did they find the bell??? 
Posted on 11/8/11 at 12:55 pm to bbvdd
Not sure, I'll call my father in law later and ask, lol!
Posted on 11/8/11 at 5:54 pm to bbvdd
Nope never found it, he always said he thought it was more legend than truth.
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