Our Unknown Game Animal
Before dawn , as I crept to my stand in the big timber behind the levee along the Mississippi I kept stumbling over rough places where fresh earth had been rooted up. I knew what it meant and because I was also remembering the story related to me by the turkey hunter , I was mildly uneasy. I did not want that kind of trouble.
It was the spring gobbler season in Mississippi . The dawn woods was cold and damp. I sat now with my back against the bole of a large tree , shivering listening intently as the sun began to break through. The evening before I had put a big gobbler to bed in this area. I was hoping to hear him fly down down from his roost and speak to his hens
Presently I heard something. Not the sound of wings. To noisy for a deer. Then I saw it , as rough looking a customer, as anyone would ever care to meet. A long snouted hog, with sizable tusks curling out of its distended lips , was mashing its way through the undergrowth. Its bristles were long and almost shaggy. It was a leggy mean beast, and I knew that it was sure to have an unpredictable temper. I was sure whether from smallness of brain or from the knowledge of its own brute power, it feared nothing. Sort of like a lost criminal or a most foolish person who always had to win and might have the refrain ” I don;t work for free,,,, I don’t work for free”.
The 20 gauge in my hands, seemed awfully small right then. The hog came on , turned to screw up its tiny eyes and stare towards momentarily. I guessed and estimated him or it at 150 lbs. Presently it emitted a small grunt and went on its way. coming out of cover and moving across the open woods. I was most amazed at the stealthy quiet with which it drifted away. And to my memory I could hear my turkey hunting friend telling his fabled story.
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