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Fisher's River - Charter IV
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IV.--UNCLE DAVY LANE.
I MUST not forget, in these random sketches, my old friend and neighbor
Uncle Davy Lane. Some men make an early and decided impression upon you--
features, actions, habits, all the entire man, real and artificial. "Uncle
Davy" was that kind of man.
I will mention a few things that make me remember him. His looks were
peculiar. He was tall, dark, and rough-skinned; lymphatic, dull, and don't-
care-looking in his whole physiognomy. He had lazy looks and movements.
Nothing could move him out of a slow, horse-mill gait but snakes, of which
"creeturs he was monstrous 'fraid." The reader shall soon have abundant
evidence of the truth of this admission in his numerous and rapid flights
from "sarpunts."
Uncle Davy was a gunsmith, and, as an evidence of the fact, he carried
about with him the last gun he ever made. His gun, a
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rifle, was characteristic of its maker and owner--rough and unfinished
outside, but good within. It was put in an old worm-eaten half-stock which
he had picked up somewhere, and the barrel had never been dressed nor
ground outside. He would visit a neighbor early in the morning, sit down
with his rifle across his knees, in "too great a hurry" to set it aside,
would stay all day, would lay it by only at meals, which he seldom
refused, but "never was a-hongry."
He had a great fund of long-winded stories and incidents, mostly
manufactured by himself--some few he had "hearn"--and would bore you or
edify you, as it might turn out, from sun to sun, interspersing them now
and then with a dull, guttural, lazy laugh.
He became quite a proverb in the line of big story-telling. True, he
had many obstinate competitors, but he distanced them all farther than he
did the numerous snakes that "run arter him." He had given his ambitious
competitors fair warning thus:
"Ef any on 'um beats me, I'll sell out my deadnin' and hustle off to
other deadnin's."
In sheer justice to Uncle Davy, however,
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and with pleasure I record the fact, that he reformed his life, became a
Christian, I hope, as well as a Baptist, and died a penitent man.
As stated, he was never known to get out of a snail's gallop only when
in contact with snakes; and the reader shall now have, in Uncle Davy's own
style, an account of his flight from a coachwhip snake.
THE CHASE.
"I had a hog claim over beyant Moor's Fork, and I concluded I'd take
old Bucksmasher (his rifle), and go inter the big huckleberry patch, on
Round Hill, in sarch for 'um. Off I trolloped, and toddled about for some
time, but couldn't find head nur tail uv 'um. But while I was moseyin'
about, I cum right chug upon one uv the biggest, longest, outdaciousest
coachwhip snakes I uver laid my peepers on. He rared right straight up,
like a May-pole, licked out his tarnacious tongue, and good as said,
'Here's at you, sir. What bizness have you on my grit?' Now I'd hearn
folks
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say ef you'd look a vinimus animil right plump in the eyes he wouldn't
hurt you. Now I tried it good, just like I were trying to look through a
mill-stone. But, bless you, honey! he had no more respect fur a man's face
and eyes than he had fur a huckleberry, sure's gun's iron. So I seed
clearly that I'd have to try my trotters.
"I dashed down old Bucksmasher, and jumped 'bout ten steps the fust
leap, and on I went wusser nur an old buck fur 'bout a quarter, and turned
my noggin round to look fur the critter. Jehu Nimshi! thar he were right
dab at my heels, head up, tongue out, and red as a nail-rod, and his eyes
like two balls uv fire, red as chain lightnin.' I'creased my verlocity,
jumped logs twenty foot high, clarin' thick bushes, and bush-heaps, deep
gullies, and branches. Again I looked back, thinkin' I had sartinly left
it a long gap behind. And what do you think? By jingo! he'd hardly begun
to run--jist gittin' his hand in. So I jist put flatly down again faster
than uver. 'Twasn't long afore I run out'n my shot-bag, I went so fast,
then out'n my shirt, then out'n my britches--luther
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britches at that--then away went my drawers. Thus I run clean out'n all my
linnen a half a mile afore I got home; and, thinks I, surely the tarnul
sarpunt are distanced now.
"But what do you think now? Nebuchadnezzar! thar he were, fresh as a
mounting buck jist scared up. I soon seen that wouldn't do, so I jumped
about thirty-five foot, screamed like a wildcat, and 'creased my verlocity
at a monstrous rate. Jist then I begun to feel my skin split, and, thinks
I, it's no use to run out'n my skin, like I have out'n my linnen, as
huming skin are scarce, so I tuck in a leetle.
"But by this time I'd run clean beyant my house, right smack through my
yard, scaring Molly and the childering, dogs, cats, chickens--uvry thing--
half to death. But, you see, I got shet uv my inimy, the sarpunt, fur it
had respect fur my house, ef it hadn't fur my face and eyes in the woods.
I puffed, and blowed, and sweated 'bout half an hour afore I had wind to
tell Molly and the childering what were the matter.
"Poor old Bucksmasher staid several
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days in the woods afore I could have the pluck to go arter him."
When Uncle Davy told one snake story, he must needs exhaust his stock,
big and little. After breathing a little from telling his coachwhip story,
which always excited him, he would introduce and tell the story of his
adventure with
THE HORN-SNAKE.
"Fur some time arter I were chased by that sassy coachwhip, I were
desput 'fraid uv snakes. My har would stand on eend, stiff as hog's
bristles, at the noise uv uvry lizzard that ran through the leaves, and my
flesh would jerk like a dead beef's.
"But at last I ventured to go into the face uv the Round Peak one day a-
huntin'. I were skinnin' my eyes fur old bucks, with my head up, not
thinkin' about sarpunts, when, by Zucks! I cum right plum upon one uv the
curiousest snakes I uver seen in all my borned days.
"Fur a spell I were spellbound in three foot uv it. There it lay on the
side uv a
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steep presserpis, at full length, ten foot long, its tail strait out,
right up the presserpis, head big as a sasser, right toards me, eyes red
as forked lightnin', lickin' out his forked tongue, and I could no more
move than the Ball Rock on Fisher's Peak. But when I seen the stinger in
his tail, six inches long and sharp as a needle, stickin' out like a
cock's spur, I thought I'd a drapped in my tracks. I'd ruther a had uvry
coachwhip on Round Hill arter me en full chase than to a bin in that
drefful siteation.
"Thar I stood, petterfied with relarm--couldn't budge a peg--couldn't
even take old Bucksmasher off uv my shoulder to shoot the infarnul thing.
Nyther uv us moved nor bolted 'ur eyes fur fifteen minits.
"At last, as good luck would have it, a rabbit run close by, and the
snake turned its eyes to look what it were, and that broke the charm, and
I jumped forty foot down the mounting, and dashed behind a big white oak
five foot in diamatur. The snake he cotched the eend uv his tail in his
mouth, he did, and come rollin' down the mounting arter me jist like a
hoop, and jist as I landed behind
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the tree he struck t'other side with his stinger, and stuv it up, clean to
his tail, smack in the tree. He were fast.
"Of all the hissin' and blowin' that uver you hearn sense you seen
daylight, it tuck the lead. Ef there'd a bin forty-nine forges all a-
blowin' at once, it couldn't a beat it. He rared and charged, lapped round
the tree, spread his mouf and grinned at me orful, puked and spit quarts
an' quarts of green pisen at me, an' made the ar stink with his nasty
breath.
"I seen thar were no time to lose; I cotched up old Bucksmasher from
whar I'd dashed him down, and tried to shoot the tarnil thing; but he kep'
sich a movin' about and sich a splutteration that I couldn't git a bead at
his head, for I know'd it warn't wuth while to shoot him any whar else. So
I kep' my distunce tell he wore hisself out, then I put a ball right
between his eyes, and he gin up the ghost.
"Soon as he were dead I happened to look up inter the tree, and what do
you think? Why, sir, it were dead as a herrin'; all the leaves was wilted
like a fire had gone through its branches.
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"I left the old feller with his stinger in the tree, thinkin' it were
the best place fur him, and moseyed home, 'tarmined not to go out agin
soon.
"Now folks may talk as they please 'bout there bein' no sich things as
horn-snakes, but what I've seen I've seen, and what I've jist norated is
true as the third uv Mathy.
"I mout add that I passed that tree three weeks arterwards, and the
leaves and the whole tree was dead as a door-nail."
Uncle Davy's mind was trained in a sort of horse-mill track, and would
pass from one story to another with great naturalness and ease. No sooner
was he done with the horn-snake rencounter, after giving you time to use
some word of astonishment, note of exclamation--some sign of approbation
or disapprobation, it made but little odds which--he would commence the
story of
THE RATTLESNAKE BITE.
"I thort my sarpunt difficulties was sartinly ended arter that desput
horn-snake scrape; but hush, honey! they'd jist begun.
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T'other two was jist little frightnin's; this that I'm a-gwine to narrate
was a sure-enough bite. He waded inter me far enuff. It happened arter
this fashion:
"I knowed whar thar was a mighty nice blackberry patch, 'bout a mile
from home. I 'tarmined to have a bait out'n 'um, and some on 'um for Molly
to make a pie out'n, fur I'm mighty fond uv blackberry pies--nothin'
nicer, 'ceptin' a raal North Carolina puddin'. So off I piked to the old
field whar they was. I didn't 'spect to see any old bucks to smash, so I
didn't take old Bucksmasher with me that time, which I nairly always done,
nur did I--lack-a-day!--know what were to befall me that drefful, drefful
day.
"I 'riv on the spot in the cool uv the evenin', which it were mighty
hot weather, waded into 'um without ceremony ur interduction, and eat a
bushel on 'um afore I picked any fur the family. Last I seen a monstrous
big brier full uv great big 'uns, big as hen's eggs. I were so taken with
'um, with my head as high as ef I was looking at the stars, I went up,
and, says I to myself,
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'I'll soon hev my basket full uv these master fellers; they'll make bully
pies.'
"I were pickin' away hard as I could clatter, barefooted as the day I
were borned, when I felt suthin rakin' my feet wusser than sawbriers. But
I picked on, and nuver looked down to see what were the matter, thinking
all the time it were briers. But it got wusser and wusser till it were no
use. I looked down to see what were the matter, and what do you think?
Why, thar were the biggest rattlesnake that uver were seen or hearn tell
on--would a filled a washin'-tub to the brim. There he were peggin' away
at my feet and legs like he were the hongriest critter on yeth.
"I jist let all holts go, and begun to jump right up and down, full
thirty foot high, fur a dozen times, I reckon, screamin' like an Injun,
allers lightin' in an inch uv the same place. Ev'ry time I'd strike the
yeth the cussed sarpunt would peg away at me. At last the spell were
broke, and I moseyed home at an orful rate. It's no use to say how fast I
did run, fur nobody would b'leeve it, but I can say in truth, the runnin'
from
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the coachwhip warn't a primin' to it. No, sir!
"Now I'd hearn that sweet milk were a mighty remedy fur snake-bites,
and, as good luck would have it, Molly and the childering had jist got
home from the cuppen* with the milk of seven master cows to give milk, and
I, without sayin' a word, drunk down uvry drap uv it. They looked mighty
curious at me. Soon I got monstrous sick, and commenced puking at an orful
rate. Up come milk and blackberries, all mixed up together, makin' a
relarmin' mess to the family. They begun to beller and squall like ten
thousand Injuns were arter 'um and skelpin' on 'um, and me so sick I
couldn't say a word. I thort in my soul I should puke up the bottoms of my
feet. No poor little mangy pig uver hove and set at a 'tater-hill wusser
nur I did. When I'd hulled out uvry thing innardly, I run to the whisky-
kag, snatched it up, and landed at least two gallons down me. This were
the king cure-all. I went to sleep in less than no time, nuver said a word
to any on 'um, and
(* Cow-pen.)
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waked up next mornin' ready fur breakfust, and eat more'n common, seein' I
were tolluble empty."
Uncle Davy has one more "sarpunt story," which I will not let him tell
now, but will reserve it for his last story. I will now give the reader,
for the sake of variety, some of his hunting feats and stories, which will
show him to have been a hero in that ancient and honorable occupation.
We have it from ancient and the best authority that "Nimrod was a
mighty hunter before the Lord." Uncle Davy was a second Nimrod at least.
To allow Uncle Davy to decide the question, the Eastern hunter, Nimrod,
who has been deified as Hercules for his wondrous feats, has been
immeasurably eclipsed by the Western hunter, the Fisher's River Davy Lane.
Hercules hunted with a club; Uncle Davy with old Bucksmasher. Hercules was
doomed to hunt and perform his feats; Uncle Davy did his without
compulsion. Poets and historians have sung and told the stories of
Hercules; Uncle Davy tells his own stories. A fruitful
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imagination could run the analogy endlessly; but I shut down upon it.
I shall not record a tithe of the hunting stories of my Western
Hercules, for they would make a ponderous volume. Only a few samples of
the many shall be given; and I here take occasion to express the sincere
hope that my countrymen will never return to such a state of barbarism as
to deify our Fisher's River hero, as the ancients did Hercules, and make
for him a mythology out of these imperfect records; for I now testify to
all coming generations that Uncle Davy Lane was but a mortal man, and has
been gathered to his fathers for several years. But excuse this
digression: my plea is, The importance of the subject demanded it.
I will give but a few of my hero's stories, and will begin, without
being choice, with
THE FAST-RUNNING BUCK.
"Now I'd smashed up so many master old bucks 'bout Fisher's Gap, Blaze
Spur, Flour Gap, clean round to Ward's Gap,* I 'cluded they mout be
gittin' scass, and I'd
(* Different crossing-places of the Blue Ridge.)
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let 'um rest a spell, and try my luck in other woods; so I toddled off to
the Sugar Loaf.*
"Now I know'd it were the time uv year fur old bucks to be hard'nin'
thar horns, so I tuck the sunny side uv the Sugar Loaf. I kep' my eyes
skinned all the way up, but nuver seen any thing tell I got nairly to the
top, when up jumped one uv the poxtakedest biggest old bucks you uver
seen. He dashed round the mounting faster nur a shootin' star ur
lightnin'. But, howsomever, I blazed away at him, but he were goin' so
fast round the Loaf, and the bullet goin' strait forrud, I missed him.
Ev'ry day fur a week I went to that spot, allers jumped him up in ten
steps uv the same place, would fire away, but allers missed him, as jist
norated.
"I felt that my credit as a marksman, and uv old Bucksmasher, was
gittin' mighty under repair. I didn't like to be outgineraled in any sich
a way by any sich a critter. I could smash bucks anywhar and any time, but
that sassy rascal, I couldn't tech a
(* A lofty peak of the Blue Ridge, running up in a beautiful conical form,
resembling a sugar-loaf.)
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har on him. He were a perfect dar-devil. One whole night I didn't sleep a
wink--didn't bolt my eyes--fixin' up my plan. Next mornin' I went right
smack inter my blacksmith shop, tuck my hammer, and bent old Bucksmasher
jist to suit the mounting, so that when the pesky old buck started round
the mounting the bullet mout take the twist with him, and thus have a far
shake in the race.
"I loadened up, and moseyed off to try the 'speriment. I 'ruv at the
spot, and up he jumped, hoisted his tail like a kite, kicked up his heels
in a banterin' manner, fur he'd outdone me so often he'd got raal sassy. I
lammed away at him, and away he went round the mounting, and the bullet
arter him--so good a man, and so good a boy. I stood chock still.
Presently round they come like a streak uv sunshine, both buck and bullit,
bullit singin' out, 'Whar is it? whar is it?' 'Go it, my fellers,' says I,
and away they went round the Loaf like a Blue Ridge storm. Afore you could
crack yer finger they was around agin, bucklety-whet. Jist as they got
agin me, bullit throwed him.
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"I throwed down old Bucksmasher, out with my butcher-knife, jerked off
my shot-bag and hung it on the horn uv one uv the purtiest things you uver
seen. I thort I'd look at it better when I stuck my buck. I knifed him
monstrous quick, and turned round to look at the curious thing I'd hung my
shot-bag on, and it were gone most out'n sight. I soon seen it were the
moon passin' along, and I'd hung my shot-bag on the corner uv it. I hated
mightily to lose it, fur it had all my ammernition in it, and too 'bout a
pound uv Thompson's powder.*
But I shouldered my old buck, moseyed home, skinned and weighed him,
and he weighed 150 pounds clean weight. I slep' sound that night, fur I'd
gained the victory. I went next day to look fur the moon, and to git my
shot-bag, pervided it hadn't spilt it off in moseyin' so fast. Sure 'nuff,
it come moseyin' along next day, jist at the same time o' day, with my
shot-bag on its horn. I snatched it off, and told it to mosey on 'bout its
business.
(* A favorite powder with hunters in that section, made by a man named
John Thompson. I have no doubt of its being the best powder in the world.)
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"Now thar's some things I'll describe the best I can, and I'm a
tolluble hand at it, though I say it; but I nuver will tell a human
critter how that moon looked. But I'll say this much: all that talk of
'stronimy and 'lossify 'bout the moon are nonsense; that's what I know.
They can't fool this old 'coon, fur what I know I know--what I've seen
I've seen."
After a lazy laugh, in which he cared not whether you engaged or not--
at least his looks would so indicate--Uncle Davy would straighten himself,
fetch a long breath, charge his mouth with a fresh chew of tobacco, and
would proceed to tell of his
RIDE IN THE PEACH-TREE.
"Now when I got my shot-bag off uv the moon, I lost no time, which I'd
lost a great deal arter that old buck, as jist norated. I moseyed home in
a hurry, straightened old Bucksmasher, and piked off to Skull Camp*
(* A spur of the Blue Ridge, at the foot of which one or two human
skeletons were found at the first settling of the country, where there
were signs of an old hunters' camp; hence the name of the mountain.)
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to smash up a few old bucks on that grit. Soon as I landed I seen 'bout a
dozen old bucks and one old doe. I planted myself, fur they was comin'
right smack to'ads me, and I waited tell they got in shootin' range, as it
were. I knowed ef I smashed Mrs. Doe fust I'd be right apt to smash all
the Mr. Bucks. That's the way with all creation--the males allers a-
traipsin' arter the females.
"So I lammed away at her, fotched her to the yeth, and the bucks
scampered off. Agin I got loadened up they come back to the doe, smellin'
round, and I blazed away agin, and tripped up the heels uv one uv 'um.
They'd run off a little ways uvry time, but agin I'd load up thar'd allers
be one ready to be smashed, and I jist kep' smashin' away tell there were
but one left, and he were a whopper.
"I felt in my shot-bag, and, pox take the luck! there warn't a bullit
in it--nothin' but a peach-stone. I crammed it down, thort I'd salute him
with that, and blazed away, aimin' to hit him right behind the wethers,
and, by golly! ef he didn't slap
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down his tail and outrun creation, and give it two in the game. I run up,
out with my butcher-knife, stuck uvry one on 'um afore you could cry
'cavy. And sich a pile on 'um, all lyin' cross and pile, you nuver seen in
yer borned days.
"I moseyed home in a turkey-trot, got Jim and Sanders and the little
waggin, went arter 'um, and, I tell you, we had nice livin' fur a
fortnight. Some o' the old bucks would a cut four inches clare fat on the
rump. Molly didn't hev to use any hog fat nur fry no bacon with 'um. We
sopped both sides uv ur bread, and greased ur mouths from ear to ear. It
made the childering as sassy as it does a sea-board feller when he gits
his belly full uv herrin'. Thar was skins plenty to make me and all the
boys britches, and to buy ammernition to keep old Bucksmasher a-talkin'
fur a long time, fur he's a mighty gabby old critter to varmunts uv uvry
kind, well as to old bucks, he is.
"Arter makin a desput smash among old bucks uvry whar else fur three
very long years, I thort I'd try my luck in Skull Camp
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agin. I took plenty uv ammernition with me this time--didn't care about
shootin' peach-stones any more out'n old Bucksmasher--and piked off full
tilt.
"Soon as I got on good hunting yeth, I seen right by the side uv a
clift uv rocks (I were on the upper side uv the clift) a fine young peach-
tree, full uv master plum peaches. I were monstrous hongry and dry, and
thanked my stars fur the good luck. I sot down old Bucksmasher, stepped
from the top uv the clift inter the peach-tree--nuver looked down to see
whar it were growin'--jerked out old Butch, and went to eatin' riproarin'
fashion.
"I hadn't gulluped down more'n fifty master peaches afore, by golly!
the tree started off, with me in it, faster nur you uver seen a scared
wolf run. When it had run a mile ur so, I looked down to see what it mout
mean. And what do you think? True as preachin', the peach-tree was growin'
out'n an old buck, right behind his shoulders.
"I thort my time had come, for on he moseyed over logs, rocks, clifts,
and all sorts
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o' things, and me up in the tree. He went so fast, he did, that he split
the wind, and made it roar in my head like a harricane. I tried to pray,
but soon found I had no breath to spar in that way, fur he went so orful
fast that my wind was sometimes clean gone. He run in that fashion fur
fifteen mile, gin out, stopped to rest, when I got out'n my fast-runnin'
stage mighty soon, and glad o' the chance.
"I left him pantin' away like he were mighty short o' wind, returned
thanks fur once, tuck my foot in my hand, and walked all the way back to
old Bucksmasher. I seen more old bucks on my way than I uver seen in the
same length uv time in all my borned days. They knowed jist as well as I
did that I had nothin' to smash 'um with. Thar they was a-kickin' up thar
heels and snortin' at me fur fifteen long miles--miles measured with a
'coon-skin, and the tail throwed in fur good measure, fur sure. It were a
mighty trial, but I grinned and endured it. I piked on and landed at the
place whar I started in my peach-tree stage, found old Bucksmasher,
shouldered him, and
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moseyed fur home, with my feathers cut, fur I'd made a water haul that
time, fur sure and sartin."
"To--be--shore, Mr. Lane?" said old Mr. Wilmoth, a good, credulous old
man; "ef I didn't know you to be a man of truth, I couldn't believe you.
How do you think that peach-tree come up in the back of that deer?"
"Bless you, man! it was from the peach-stone I shot in his back, as
jist norated--nothin' plainer."
Our hero loved to tell of his adventures with other "villinus varmunts"
as well as with "old bucks." We will now hear him "let off" with his
marvelous adventure with that ever-dreaded and feared monster,
THE PANTHER.
"Arter this dreadful relarm jist norated, I thort I'd not go inter the
Skull Camp Mountings agin soon, so I sot my compass fur Fisher's Peak to
try my luck. I crossed it at the Bald Rock,* and went back uv it a
(* Near the top of Fisher's Peak, on the south side, there is a large
rock, about an acre in size, called the "Bald Rock.")
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piece, skinnin' my eyes all the time fur old bucks, when I come up chug
upon one, dead as a mittin--jist killed. Thar warn't the sign uv a bullit
on it; it were desputly scratched up and raked hither and thither, and the
yeth and leaves was tore up all round. Says I, 'I'll skin you, any how,
and make suthin out'n your hide.'
"I tuck off his jacket quick, hung it up, piked on furder, and found
another jist in the same fix. Says I, 'This is a cheap way of gittin' old
bucks' skins, fur sure. No wastin' ammernition here, for Thompson's powder
and Pearce's lead* is mighty precious.' So I tuck off his clothin' in
three shakes of a sheep's tail.
"On I moseyed tell I ondressed eight master bucks in the same way, tell
I were in a lather uv sweat, fur it was tolluble hot. When I come to the
ninth, the sign was fresher and fresher; it was hardly done kickin'. I
ondressed him too, nuver thinkin' fur a minit what it were a-smashin' up
old bucks in that drefful way.
(* Hunters in that section obtained their lead at Pearce's lead mines,
Poplar Camp Mountain, Wythe County, Virginia.)
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"Jist as I riz up from skinnin' him, I looked up in a post-oak-tree
right dab over me, and there sot the biggest painter that uver walked the
Blue Ridge, fur sure. Thar he sot on a limb, his eyes shinin' away like
new money, slappin' his tail jist like a cat gwine to jump on a rat. I
like to a sunk in my tracks. Poor, helpless critter I was. I thort about
prayin', but I seen there were no time fur that; so I kep' my eyes on him,
stepped four ur five steps backwards to'ads where I'd sot old Bucksmasher,
thinkin' thar mout be more vartue in powder and lead than in prayers jist
then. I cocked him, whipped him up to the side uv my face, drawed a bead
right between the eyes, let him hev it jist as he commenced springin' on
me. He fell at my feet, and died monstrous hard, like he had a thousand
lives, slappin' his tail on the ground; you mout a hearn him three hundred
and fifty yards.
"Thinkin' there mout be some more uv the same stock in them thar woods,
I nuver tuck time to ondress him, which his skin would a bin wuth right
smart uv ammernition. I gathered up my skins, and moseyed fur home."
Page 77
Uncle Davy must have had the organ of "destructiveness" pretty fully
developed, for fowls, as well as "animils" and "sarpunts," were "smashed
up" by him, as may be gathered from
THE TURKEY HUNT.
"Now I got mighty tired livin' on old buck meat--nairly as sick uv it
as the chillun of Israel was in the willerness livin' on partridges and
manna, which my teeth was most wore down to the gums eatin' it; so I thort
I'd sweeten my mouf a little on turkey meat. So I piked off to Nettle's
Knob,* knowin' as how thar was a slambangin' chance uv 'um in that
mounting. I seen hundereds uv old bucks as I moseyed on, but, pshaw! I
told uvry rascal on 'um to git out'n the way, fur when I went a-turkey-in'
I didn't go a-buckin'; so they didn't tempt me any more--fur sure they
didn't.
"Now soon as I got nairly to the top uv the knob, on the south side, I
seen a master
(* A beautiful knob near the foot of the Blue Ridge, not far from the
"Flour Gap," now "Pipher's Gap." The line between Virginia and North
Carolina crossed it.)
Page 78
gang uv turkeys feedin' along on beggar's lice, etc., mighty busy, comin'
right to'ads me. I hid myself right behind an old ches'-nut log, sly as a
wild-cat. Thar was 'bout sixty on 'um--a right nice gang. I soon seen
which were the grandmamma uv the whole possercomitattus, and I determined
to smash her fust. I lammed away, and down she fell to flutterin', and her
feet clatterin' away like a pack uv fool boys and gals a-dancin.' The
childering and grandchildering all run up to see what were the matter,
hollerin' loud as they could, most splittin' their throats, 'coot! coot!
coot!'
"Afore she was done a-flutterin', I lammed down another old hen; the
rest run up, and the same coot! coot! tuck place. I kep' lammin' 'um down
fast as I could, which was mighty fast, till the whole woods was alive
with flutterin' and hollerin' coot! coot! Soon as I got about forty on
'um, I quit burnin' powder; besides, old Bucksmasher had got so hot I were
afraid to put powder down him. I went up to whar they was, and, my stars!
what a pile on 'um! I could a killed the last one on 'um, fur I had to
Page 79
shoo 'um off. I went home fur the boys and the little waggin, and for sure
we had good livin' fur a week on baked and hashed turkey, which isn't bad
eatin' any time, it ain't."
The transition from one fowl story to another was quite easy and
natural to Uncle Davy. Thus he passed with great facility from the "turkey
smashin'" to
THE PIGEON-ROOST.
"Now, do ye see, a man will git tired out on one kind o' meat, I don't
care a drot what it is ('ceptin' Johnson Snow, who nuver gits tired o'
hog's gullicks and turnup greens). So I got tireder of them thar turkeys,
which thar was so many, than I uver did uv old buck meat. I hearn uv a
mighty pigeon-roost down in the Little Mountings,* so I 'tarmined to make
a smash uv some uv 'um, to hev a variety uv all sorts o' meat. I had got
to turnin' up my nose whenuver Molly sot turkey on the table, which I
hated to do, fur she's a mighty kind critter.
(* A range of mountains by that name, an offshoot from the Blue Ridge, in
the "Hollows of the Yadkin.")
Page 80
"So I jist fixed up old Tower,* and filled my shot-bag chug full uv
drap-shot, mounted old Nip,** and moseyed off fur the pigeon-roost. I 'ruv
thar 'bout two hours by the sun, and frum that blessed hour till chock
dark the heavens was dark with 'um comin' inter the roost. It is
unconceivable to tell the number on 'um, which it were so great. Bein' a
man that has a character fur truth, I won't say how many there was. Thar
was a mighty heap uv saplins fur 'um to roost in, which they would allers
light on the biggest trees fust, then pitch down on the little uns ter
roost.
"Now jist at dark I thort I'd commence smashin' 'um; so I hitched old
Nip to the limb uv a tree with a monstrous strong bridle--a good hitchin'
place, I thort. I commenced blazin' away at the pigeons like thunder and
lightnin'; which they'd light on big trees thick as bees, bend the trees
to the yeth like they'd been lead. Uvry pop I'd spill about a pint uv drap-
shot at 'um, throwed at 'um by Thompson's powder, which made
(* The name of his musket.)
(** The name of his horse.)
Page 81 [blank]
Page 82 [omitted image]
Page 83
a drefful smash among 'um. By hokey! I shot so fast, and so long, and so
often, I het old Tower so hot that I shot six inches off uv the muzzle uv
the old slut. I seen it were no use to shoot the old critter clean away,
which I mout have some use fur agin; so I jist quit burnin' powder and
flingin' shot arter I'd killed 'bout a thousand on 'um, fur sure.
"Arter I'd picked up as many on 'um as my wallets would hold, I looked
fur old Nip right smack whar I'd hitched him, but he were, like King
Saul's asses, nowhar to be found. I looked a consid'able spell next to the
yeth, but, bless you, honey! I mout as well a sarched fur a needle in a
haystack. At last I looked up inter a tree 'bout forty foot high, and thar
he were swingin' to a limb, danglin' 'bout 'tween the heavens and the yeth
like a rabbit on a snare-pole. I could hardly keep from burstin' open
laughin' at the odd fix the old critter were in. The way he whickered were
a fact, when I spoke to him--wusser nur ef I'd a had a stack uv fodder fur
him ur a corn-crib to put him in."
Page 84
"How come him up thar, Uncle Davy?" said Bill Holder, a great quiz.
"Why, I hitched him to the limb uv a big tree bent to the yeth with
pigeons, you numskull, and when they riz the tree went up, and old Nip
with it, fur sure."
But how did you get him down?" said Bill, again.
"That's nuther here nor thar; I got him down, and that's 'nuff fur sich
pukes as you ter know. Soon as I got him down I piked fur home with my
pigeons, and we made uvry pan and pot stink with 'um fur one whet, and
they made us all as sassy as a Tar River feller when he gits his belly
full uv fresh herrin'."
BIG PEACH-EATING.
"These is the oncommonest biggest plum peaches I uver seen sense my
peepers looked on daylight," said Uncle Frost Snow, in the presence of
Uncle Davy Lane, while a party were making a desperate havoc of some very
fine peaches. "They is 'most as good as I use' to eat in ole Albermarle,
Fudginny. While I lived thar I eat a bushel on jist sich
Page 85
peaches at one eatin'." This was said to draw out a story from our hero.
Uncle Frost was good at that.
"Pshaw! fidgittyfudge!" said Uncle Davy; "that's nothin' to a bait I
once tuck in ole Pitsulvany, Virginny. I and Uncle John Lane went into his
orchard one day, and thar was two grate big plum peach-trees so full that
the limbs lay on the ground all round.
"'Dave,' said Uncle John, 'do ye see them big peaches thar? I can beat
you eatin' 'um so fur that you won't know yerself.'
"'Not so fast, Uncle John,' says I.
"'I'll bet you ten buckskins,' says he.
"'Done, by Jeeminny!' says I.
"'Take yer choice uv the trees,' says he.
"'Here's at you! this one,' says I.
"And at it we went, like Sampson killin' the Philistines, with our
butcher-knives, commencin' at 'bout twelve ur clock, and moseyed into 'um
till 'most night.
"'How do ye come on, Dave?' said Uncle John.
"'Fust-rate,' says I--'jist gittin' my
Page 86
hand in. How do you navigate, Uncle John?' says I.
"'I gin up,' says he. 'My craw's full,' says he.
"I looked, and, Jehu Nimshi! ef we hadn't eat till all the limbs on his
tree had riz from the yeth two foot, and mine had riz three foot. The
peach-stones lay in two piles, and they looked fur all the world like two
Injun mounds--mine a nation sight the biggest."
"Haw! haw! haw!" laughed Uncle Frost; "that takes the rag off uv the
bush."
SOME APPLE-EATING.
"I'm danged," said Dick Snow, "ef I can't beat any man in this crowd
eatin' apples."
"How many can you eat, yearlin'?" said Uncle Davy. "I'm a snorter in
that line, sartin."
"Don't know adzackly; a half a bushel, I s'pose," said Dick.
"Bah! that's nothin.' No more'n a bar to an elephant. That same Uncle
John Lane which I won the buckskins from, eatin'
Page 87
peaches, not satisfied with one lickin,' tuck me into his apple orchard,
and, 'Dave,' says he, 'do you see yon two big leathercoat apple-trees?'
"'Yes,' says I; 'and what uv that?'
"'You see,' says he, 'they're mighty full, with thar limbs lyin' on the
yeth?' says he.
"'Yes,' says I; 'and what does all that signify? Don't be beatin' the
bush so long. Come out! Be a man, and tell me what you're arter,' says I.
"'I want to win them thar buckskins back agin,' says Uncle John.
"'Can't do it,' says I.
"'Which tree will you take?' says he.
"'This bully un,' says I.
"'Bad choice,' says he; 'but I'll beat you the easier,' says he.
"So we moseyed into 'um yearly in the mornin,' and 'bout twelve o'clock
he called fur the calf-rope. I'd beat him all holler. Uncle John were
swelled out like a hoss with the colic, while I looked as trim as a
grayhound. We looked, and the limbs uv my tree had riz from the yeth full
four foot, and his'n three foot. Thar was apple-peelin's
Page 88
and cores enough under them thar trees to a fed five dozen hogs, sartin."
"I'm danged," said Dick Snow, "ef that don't take the huckleberry off
of my 'simmon."
THE TAPE-WORM.
Patent medicines go every where; so do the almanacs of the inventors of
such medicines. Soon after Dr. Jayne commenced publishing his almanacs,
one of them got into the Fisher's River region. It was quite a wonder. It
was as great a show as the elephant. Some one showed Uncle Davy the
picture of the tape-worm, and read the account of it. He was determined
not to be outdone, and held forth as follows:
"Fiddlesticks and Irish 'taters! For to think that a man of larnin',
like Dr. Jaynes, should prent sich a little flea-bitten story as that! He
sartinly nuver seen any crape-wurrums."
"Tape-worms, Uncle Davy," said one.
"Nuver mind, and save your breath," said he, very emphatically; "I know
what I'm explanigatin' about. I say Dr. Jaynes
Page 89
were mighty pushed fur a wurrum story to prent sich a little baby story as
that you have jist norated frum his book. If he'd a called on me, I'd a
gi'n him one what was wuth prentin'."
"Let's have it, Uncle Davy," said several voices.
"I'm a great mind not to tell it here by the side uv this poor little
thing uv Dr. Jayneses. It makes me rantankerous mad to hear sich little
stuff, it does. But here's at you, as you look like you'd die ef you don't
hear it.
"Where I cum from, in ole Pitsulvany, Virginny, thar lived a strange-
lookin' critter by the name uv Sallie Pettigrew. I sha'n't try to describe
her, for it is onpossible. She were a sight, sure. She looked more like a
bar'l on stilts than any thing I can think on. She could eat as much meat
sometimes as five dogs, and soon arter eatin' it could drink as much water
as a thirsty yoke uv oxen, sartin'. You needn't be winkin' and blinkin'
thar; truth, uvry word uv it. She was monstrous fond uv fish, which it was
onpossible almost to git anuff fur her to make
Page 90
a meal on. And then, arter eatin' the fish, she would drink galluns upon
galluns uv water. The people got mighty tired uv her eatin' and drinkin'
so much, and thort suthin must be the matter. They bought a whole bar'l uv
salt herrin's; they cooked 'um, and she gulluped down the last one uv 'um.
They tied her fast, so that she couldn't git to water. She hollered and
bawled fur water, and seemed like gwine inter fits. They brought a bowl uv
water, and placed it close to her mouth, not close enough fur her to
drink, though. They helt it thar fur some time; at last they seed suthin
poke its head out'n her mouth, tryin' to drink. One uv 'um run and got the
shoe-pinchers and nabbed it by the head, and commenced drawin' it out. He
drawed and drawed, wusser nur a man drawin' jaw teeth, till it looked like
he would nuver git done drawing the critter out. At last he got done; and
sich a pile! and sich a tape-wurrum! The poor 'oman fainted away, and we
like to a nuver a fotched her to. But when she did cum to, Jehu Nimshi!
you mout a hearn her a shoutin' two miles and a half. We detarmined to
Page 91
measure the critter. We tuck it up, and tuck it out'n doors, druv a nail
through its head at the corner uv the house, then stretched it clean round
the house where we started from, which the house was thirty foot long and
eighteen foot wide, makin' the wurrum ninety foot long. I tell you, boys,
Dr. Jayneses tape-wurrum were nothin' to it."
"Deng it! we'll gin it up," said Dick Snow.
"You mout as well," said Uncle Davy, "fur it were a whaler."
I promised the reader one more hunting story from Uncle Davy. I will
now give it, as it seems to have been the cause of his reformation, and
with it I close the sketches of our hunting hero. Here it is:
THE BUCK-HORNED SNAKE.
"I piked out one day," said Uncle Davy, "in sarch uv old bucks, but
they was monstrous scace, and I couldn't find none. I got 'most home, and
thort I hated to return havin' smashed nothin'--didn't like to be laughed
at. Jist then an old sucklin' doe
Page 92
got right smack in my way. I leveled old Bucksmasher, and down she fell. I
tuck her home, and, meat being ruther scace, we eat her up monstrous quick.
"I furgut to mention that it was on Sunday I smashed that old doe. My
feelings sorter hurt me fur killin' her on Sunday, and frum her young fawn
too, poor critter! So in two ur three days arter, I thort I'd go out and
git the fawn. I made me a blate,* went out to the laurel and ivy thicket
whar I'd killed the doe, blated, and the fawn answered me, fur it thought
it was its mammy, poor thing! I kep' blatin' away, and uvry time I'd blate
it would answer me, but it cum to me mighty slow, sartin. I got onpatient,
and moseyed a little to'ads it, and got on a log where I could see a
leetle, which the laurel and ivy was monstrous thick. I blated agin, which
it answered close by. I then streeched up my neck liken a scared turkey,
lookin' 'mong the laurel and ivy, and what do you think I seen?"
(* Hunters split a stick, put a leaf into it, and by blowing it can
imitate the bleating of deer so as to deceive them. They call it a
"blate.")
Page 93
"I can not imagine," said Taliaferro, to whom he was relating this
adventure.
"Well, I'll tell you. Thar lay the biggest, oncommonest black snake the
Lord uver made, sartin--which he has made a many a one--full fifteen foot
long, with a pair of rantankerous big buck's horns, big as antelope's
horns. It fixed its tarnacious eyes on me, but afore it could get its
spell on me I jumped off uv that log, and run so fast that I nuver hev nur
nuver will tell any man--which it is onpossible to tell any man --how fast
I did pike fur home. But sartin it is that the runnin' from the coachwhip
on Round Hill were no more to it than the runnin' uv a snail to a streak
uv lightnin'."
"What do you think it was?" inquired Taliaferro.
"I jist think it were suthin' sent thar to warn me 'bout huntin' on
Sundays. It blated jist like a fawn, and I thort it were the fawn I were
arter; but, Jehu Nimshi! it were no more a fawn than I am a fawn, sartin.
But as sure as old Bucksmasher is made uv iron, and is the best gun in the
world, I've nuver hunted on Sunday sense."
Fisher's River - Charter IV
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