264 



RECREATION. 



we reached the Mississippi. George vowed 

 he could smell biscuits less than 3 miles 

 away, but we decided not to try to locate 

 them in the dark, and were soon sitting by 

 a blazing camp fire, enjoying a repast of 

 wild duck, boiled, roasted and fried in cat- 

 fish oil, with squirrel hash for dessert. In 

 preparing the latter the onions were used. 

 Then to a camp bed to be lulled to sleep 

 by the night calls of woodland creatures. 



The following morning we started early 

 in search of those coveted biscuits and 

 soon came to a settler's cabin, a typical 

 log hut with outside chimney built of 

 sticks and plastered with clay. In the 

 yard, chopping, stood as black a man as I 

 ever saw. 



Having come upon him unawares, he 

 was much startled at first, but soon recov- 

 ering, stood a moment, ax in hand, scrutin- 

 izing us intently, then saluted us with a 

 cheery, "Maw-nin, gem-men." We told 

 him who we were, and not to be outdone 

 in courtesy he said," Mighty glad to see 

 you-uns. Ma name is Gabe Thompson." 



Then George asked if we could get a 

 home-cooked meal; Gabe called "Clare!" 

 and immediately there appeared at the 

 doorway a perfect specimen of a colored 

 "Mammy" followed by 4 children; the 

 younger ones peeping at us from behind 

 their mother's skirts. 



Clare is worthy of passing notice. As 

 she stood looking at us, after the usual 

 " Maw-nin, " I was impressed with her neat 

 appearance. The homespun dress and 

 apron were spotless, and the kinky hair was 

 brushed back and held by a brightly col- 

 ored kerchief tied in turban form. Her 

 face beamed with good nature, though 

 black and shiny. 



When Clare learned our condition, 

 with a woman's ready apology for "havin' 

 nothin' fittin to eat," she "lowed she 

 mote gib us suthin to stay us out till dinna, 

 and den we'llhab a nice fat 'possum stuffed 

 wid yams," and turning to Gabe she said, 

 "Yo' kill an scall dat 'possum. We-uns 

 done been feedin him long nuff." The 

 fried salt pork and corn pone , with light 

 white biscuits made of wheat flour, 

 formed a breakfast to which we did ample 

 justice. 



After paying Clare "mos' too much faw 

 sich a poo meal," we went out to Gabe, 

 who had returned with the 'possum nicely 

 cleaned and ready for the pan. We sup- 

 plied him with a generous quantity of flat 

 sweet store terbacker, and sat down on the 

 wood pile to get better acquainted; as 

 George cruelly remarked, to wait for dinner. 



Gabe kept looking earnestly at my re- 

 peater. Noticing his deep interest, 1 

 showed him how it worked. He seemed 

 lost in wonder, and remarked gravely, 



" Dat is de lonesomes' gun I ever seen.' ' 



"How so, Gabe?" we asked. 



" W'y jes' kase deyisno odder like it, an 

 it nebber has no company." 



He went on to say, " Ef you-uns want to 

 hab heaps o' fun, I'll took yous ober to de 

 big swamp. Dey am lots o' bar dar, an' 

 I'd like to listen to dat gun crack an hyah 

 one ob dem pig stealers squeal!" 



Gabe was cute, he laid his plans well and 

 they were certain to succeed. We were in- 

 terested at once. 



"You say there are lots of bear? How 

 far is it to the big swamp ? How can we 

 go there ? Don't we need dogs ?" and other 

 like questions were propounded. He 

 answered about as follows: 



"Wa'l de big swamp am 'bout 14 miles 

 from hyar, an I'll took yo' obber wif Rosie; 

 an' faw dawgs, dat little 'fice' dar, wif Major 

 to go 'long, is de bes' bar dawg roun' dese 

 parts." 



A look at the lazy appearing dogs was 

 not promising. "Dat fice " may have 

 had the least particle of terrier, shepherd, 

 or spitz blood in him, in fact, any other 

 kind of very ordinary dog blood; and he 

 may have been a thoroughbred of some 

 kind on which I am not posted. Gabe said 

 he was a good bear dog, and Gabe was hon- 

 est and ought to know. Major was much 

 larger, tawny yellow, and very sleepy. 

 After looking at him carefully, I decided 

 that he was just dog, and "nigger" dog at 

 that, but Gabe had said that as a consort 



WE WERE GETTING TO LOWER GROUND. 



