Joel Chandler Harris

“ By this time the hunters had crossed the fence, and the dogs, with the exception of Jonah, were beginning to cast about in the broom-sedge and brier-patches.
“I hope Jonah isn’t lazy,” said Miss Carter, watching the dog as he walked in quiet dignity by the side of her horse.
“Oh, no,” said Joe, “he isn’t lazy; but he never gets in a hurry until the time comes.”
The young men tried to tease Joe about Jonah, but the lad only smiled, and Jonah gradually worked away from the horses. It was noticed that he did not hunt as closely as the other dogs, nor did he nose the ground as carefully. ”

“ Long experience had taught the dogs their tactics. Jolly swam in and engaged the coon’s attention, while Loud followed, swimming sidewise toward the center. Jolly swam around slowly, while Loud seemed to drift toward the coon, still presenting a broadside, so to speak. The coon, following the movements of Jolly, had paid no attention to Loud. Suddenly he saw the dog, and sprang at him, but it was too late. Loud ducked his head, and, before the coon could recover, fastened his powerful jaws on the creature’s ribs. There was a loud squall, a fierce shake, and the battle was over. ”

“ My dear boy, if you want to see how peevish and ill-natured and idiotic a grown man can be, just starve him for a matter of eight or nine days. Some wanted to go one way and some wanted to go another, while others wanted to stay where they were. Actually, Blandford and I had to cut hickories and pretend that we were going to flog the men who wanted to stay there and die, and when we got them on their feet we had to drive them along like a drove of sheep, while Pruitt led the way. ”

“ Blandford, going over to Joe and seizing the lad’s hand. “It wasn’t because I don’t like you.”
“Thank you,” replied Joe. “I don’t understand what you and Mr. Deo were talking about, but I don’t wan’t to be in the way.”
“You are not in the way at all,” said Mr. Deometari, emphatically.
“I should say not,” exclaimed Mr. Blandford, heartily. “Deo is right and I was wrong. I’d be happy if I wasn’t in anybody’s way any more than you are. You’ll find out when you grow bigger that a man never gets too old to be a fool.” ”

“ Deometari, “you don’t know anything about the Relief Committee, of course, and as you might be inquiring around about it, and asking what John Pruitt, the deserter, has to do with the Relief Committee, I’ll tell you. But, my dear boy, you must remember this: It’s not a matter to be joked about or talked of anywhere outside of this room. Now, don’t forget. It isn’t much of a secret; it is simply a piece of business that concerns only a few people. Do you remember reading or hearing about the retreat from Laurel Hill?” ”

“ Every foot of the road was as familiar to him as it was to old Mr. Wall, the hatter, who was in the habit of remarking that, if anybody would bring him a hatful of gravel from the big road that led to Hillsborough, he’d “up an’ tell ’em right whar they scooped it up at.” Joe not only knew the road well, but he was well mounted. Butterfly had all the faults Of a colt except fear. He was high-spirited and nervous, but nothing seemed to frighten him. When the lad started, Harbert ran on ahead to unlatch the big plantation gate that opened on the public-road. ”

“ He could never find his way home in the darkness, and so he made the best of what seemed to him a very bad matter. The cabin was almost a wreck, but it served to keep off the rain.
Joe went in and explored the inside as carefully as he could in the darkness. A wood-rat or flying-squirrel rattled along the rafters as he entered, and the loose puncheons of which the floor was made bumped up and down as he walked across them. In one corner, as he went groping about, he found a pile of shucks—corn-husks—and straw, and he judged that the old cabin had sometimes been used as a temporary barn. ”

“ It can not be spun out here and now so as to show the great changes that have been wrought—the healing of the wounds of war; the lifting up of a section from ruin and poverty to prosperity; the molding of the beauty, the courage, the energy, and the strength of the old civilization into the new; the gradual uplifting of a lowly race. ”

“ You’d think there was only one dog, but when you get to the tree you’ll find Jolly settin’ there just as natchul as life.”
The hunters had now come to the lands bordering on Rocky Creek, and, even while Jim-Polk was speaking, the voice of a dog was heard. Then it was twice repeated—a mellow, far-reaching, inspiring sound, that caused every nerve in Joe Maxwell’s body to tingle.
“Shucks!” exclaimed Jim-Polk, in a disgusted tone. “It’s old Loud, and we won’t hear from Jolly till the coon’s track is hot enough to raise a blister.” ”

“ Joe was very glad when the editor told him that he was to go with the fox-hunters and act as master of ceremonies. Fox-hunting was a sport of which he was very fond, for it seemed to combine all the elements of health and pleasure in outdoor life. Shortly after Joe went to the plantation the editor of The Countryman had brought from Hillsborough a hound puppy, which had been sent him by a Mr. Birdsong. This Mr. Birdsong was a celebrated breeder of fox-hounds, having at one time the only pack south of Virginia that could catch a red fox. ”

“ The war was horrible enough, distant as it was, but the people who were left at home—the women and children, the boys, the men who were exempt, the aged and the infirm—had fears of a fate still more terrible. ”

“ Let’s see what the dogs say.”
“Deyer ’livenin’ up,” said Harbert.
The hunters walked a few hundred yards to the verge of the slope that led to the bed of the creek. Suddenly the dogs were silent. Ten seconds—twenty; a half-minute passed, and nothing could be heard of the dogs.
“We may as well return home,” said Mr. Snelson. “The ravenous beasts have overtaken him, and they’ll lay by till they’ve devoured him. Upon me soul, it’s queer tastes they have!”
“Oh, no,” replied Jim-Polk. “Dogs’ll eat rabbits and squirrels, but they never eat coons nor ’possums. ”

“ The lad had witnessed many a fox-chase and had hunted rabbits hundreds of times, not only with the plantation harriers but with hounds; but he had never seen a runaway negro hunted down, and he had a boy’s curiosity in the matter, as well as a personal interest in the fate of Mink. So he mounted his horse and waited for Mr. Locke and young Gaither to return. He knew Bill Locke well, having seen him often in Hillsborough. Mr. Locke had been an overseer, but he saved money, bought two or three negroes, and had a little farm of his own. ”

“ The dogs, which had ceased their baying, now became restless and ran wildly about, but always keeping a safe distance from the tree. Mr. Snelson took his stand on one side and Joe Maxwell on the other, while Jim-Polk went out where the tree was to fall, after cautioning Harbert to keep a lookout for the coon. The advice to Harbert was given with good reason, for it is a favorite trick of the raccoon to start down the body of the tree as it falls and leap off while the dogs and hunters are looking for him in the bushy top. ”

“ Snelson if that worthy gentleman had not made his presence known by yelling at them whenever they got too far ahead. The dogs ran straight down the creek for a mile at full speed. Suddenly Jim-Polk cried out:
“They’ve treed!”
“Yasser!” said Harbert, with a loud whoop; “dey mos’ sholy is!”
“Then,” said Mr. Snelson, sarcastically, “the fun is all over—the jig is up.’Tis a thousand pities.”
“Not much!” exclaimed Jim-Polk. “The fun’s just begun. A coon ain’t kotch jest because he’s up a tree.” ”

“ A hundred or two negroes had been gathered here, and it was evident that Mink had been one of the crowd, mingling with the others and walking about with them.
Young Gaither called Mr. Locke’s attention to this. “You’ll never get the trail away from here in the world,” said he. “Why don’t you take the dog and circle round with him?”
“That dog,” said Mr. Locke, watching the hound anxiously, “has got notions of his own, and he’s bound to carry ’em out. He won’t be fooled with. Don’t say nothing. Just stand off and watch him. ”

“ These people have been actually in a starving condition, and they look worse than if they had gone through a spell of fever. They are nothing but skin and bones. The main trouble is that they live in such an out-of-the-way place. The house is a mile from the public road, and hard to find.”
“I heard,” said Joe, “that the provost-marshal had something to do with holding back supplies that ought to have gone to Mr. Pruitt’s family.”
“How could he?” asked the editor; and then he added, quickly: “Why, of course he could; he is in charge of everything. ”

“ The dark man was Jim Wimberly, the other John Pruitt, and both had evidently seen hard times. Soldier-fashion, they made seats for themselves by sticking the ends of loose boards through the cracks, and allowing the other ends to rest on the floor. Thus they could sit or lie at full length as they chose. Joe fixed a seat for himself in the same way, while Mink and Injun Bill sat on the floor on each side of the fireplace. ”

“ Boys are sometimes too big for their breeches, I’ve heard said, but this is the first time I ever heard that a man could be too big for his house. That is a good one on the colonel.”
Ben Bolt trotted along steadily and rapidly, but after a while dusk fell, and then the stars came out. Joe peered ahead, trying to make out the road.
“Just let the horse have his way,” said the editor. “He knows the road better than I do”; and it seemed to be so, for, when heavy clouds from the west came up and hid the stars, and only the darkness was visible, Ben Bolt trotted along as steadily as ever. ”

“ Shall it be ’possum or coon?”
“Dat’s for Marse Joe to say,” said Harbert,
“These are mighty funny dogs,” explained Jim-Polk. “If you start out wi’ a light, they’ll hunt ’possums all night long. If you go into the woods an’ fetch a whoop or two before you strike a light, they won’t notice no ’possum; but you better believe they’ll make old Zip Coon lift hisself off’n the ground. So whichever you want you’ll have to start out right.” ”

“ Snelson added to this task from time to time, but Joe always managed to complete it so as to have the greater part of the afternoon for his own.
There was a hat-shop on the plantation presided over by Mr. Wall, a queer old man from North Carolina. With the thrift of youth Joe gave the amusement of rabbit-hunting a business turn. In the fall and winter, when the rabbits were in fur, their skins could be sold at the hat-shop at twenty-five cents a dozen, and the little harriers were so industrious and so well trained that he sometimes sold as many as three dozen skins, a week. ”

“ We’ll git him if he ain’t took wings. All I ast of him is to stay somewheres on top of the ground, and he’s mine.”
“Why did the negro run away?” said Joe to young Gaither.
“Oh, he can’t get along with the overseer. And I don’t blame him much. I told pap this morning that if I had to choose between Mink and Bill Davidson I’d take Mink every time. But the trouble with pap is he’s getting old, and thinks he can’t get along without an overseer, and overseers are mighty hard to get now. I tell you right now that when I get grown I’m not going to let any overseer bang my niggers around.” ”

“ The private soldier thinks he is as good as a commissioned officer, and sometimes better. A provost-marshal is a sort of military chief of police, and, when his commander is as far away as Macon, he can do a good deal of harm, especially if he has a streak of meanness running through him. Johnson has made enemies here by the hundred. Worst of all, he has treated the wives of soldiers very badly. You know all about his spite at John Pruitt. ”

“ Ever’body thinks your daddy has been a-throwin’ his money away, an’ thar’s whar it’s gone. I’ve been a-watchin’ her a long time.’
“‘I ain’t botherin’ ’bout the money,’ says Johnny. ‘I’m a-thinkin’ ’bout the frailin’ I’m gwine to git.’
“‘Well,’ says the little chap in the acorn, ‘when she goes to the spring for to fetch a bucket of water, put me in your pocket an’ climb down from here. Then go up the road a piece, an’ there you’ll see a red cow a-grazin’. Walk right up to her, slap her on the back, an’ say, “Ningapie wants you.” ”

“ Snelson and Harbert were ahead, and Joe Maxwell and Jim-Polk brought up the rear.
“I hope my dogs’ll behave their selves tonight,” said young Gaither. “You went on so about Bill Locke’s nigger dogs that I want you to hear Jolly and Loud when they get their bristles up. But they’re mighty quare. If Loud strikes a trail first, Jolly will begin to pout. I call it poutin’. He’ll run along with Loud, but he won’t open his mouth until the scent gets hot enough to make him forget himself. If it’s a ’possum, he’ll let old Loud do all the trailin’ and the treein’. ”