326 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



iNov. 12, 1891. 



THE POSSUM HUNT. 



OF all sports of field or forest, mountain or plain, 

 wooded hillside or swampy jungles, none affords 

 such real genuine, jolly, rollicking fun as the old-fashioned 

 possum hunt, which is a peculiarly Southern institution, 

 and can he seen in perfection only on the old plantations 

 and among the darkies; it is a joyous, boisterous, go-as- 

 5^ou-please frolic, and it is eagerly entered into and en- 

 joyed by all classes, from the learned judge to the irre- 

 pressible small boy and the happy-go-lucky cornfield 

 negro. If "all the world's a stage," war and the hunting 

 and killing of men is certainly high tragedy ; fox hunting, 

 hawking and such like sports constitute melodrama; 

 while possum huncing is assuredly comedy in its most at- 

 tractive and enjoyable shape, and no audience ever went 

 to circus or playhouse more determined on fun or in such 

 humor to be pleased as does the party which starts on a 

 possum hunt. The possum is nature's clown, and plays 

 his part to perfection, and the very sight of one is pro- 

 Tocative of laughter; I have never seen a man (unless it 

 was some disgruntled poultry owner, whose hen roost 

 had been the objective point of Br'er Possum's nocturnal 

 visits) who could look the "varmint" in the face (no 

 matter whether it was swinging by its tail from the limb 

 of a persimmon tree, or playing possum and feigning 

 death as it lay on the ground, or when it had reached its 

 highest mission and, being nicely baked and browned 

 and garnished and guarded by a cordon of sweet potatoes 

 and rich gravy, filled a big dish and the poet of honor on 

 the dinner table and smiled a hospitable welcome to 

 hungry hosts) without a good-humored broadening of his 

 own countenance and a licking of his chops, in reminis- 

 cence of the fun of possum hunting and anticipation of 

 a feast fit for the gods; in fact the possum himself appears 

 to know and appreciate his role, and has a droll way of 

 laughing at everything and under all circumstances, 

 seeming to enjoy the hunt and his bodily sacrifice as much 

 as do his captors and the knights of the knife and fork. 



The opossum is unique; it has the body of a pig, the 

 coat of a sheep, the sharp head and keen teeth of a coon, 

 the tail of a rat (which is also prehensile, has a grip like 

 a vise), the pocket or pouch of the kangaroo, in which 

 it shelters its young from the weather or in times of 

 danger, feet with four fingers and a thumb like a human 

 hand and which have a firm grasp; the cunning of a fox, 

 an appetite and digestion which devour and assimilate 

 everything that can be masticated, from the luscious 

 grape and the tender spring chicken to the coarsest vege- 

 table and the odoriferous carrion of the common. The 

 possum is, indeed, more omnivorous than the hog and, 

 while he takes his food au naturel, nothing at all edible 

 comes amiss to him, yet it must be acknowledged that 

 he has a decided penchant for the sugary persimmon and 

 the fragrant paw-paw, and his favorite haunts are where 

 these fruits do most abound. On account of his promis- 

 cuous eating habits, it is common among the more fas- 

 tidious epicures to ha.ve a "fattening pen," where the 

 animal is fed on clean food and vegetables for a week or 

 two after it has been captured, and is well fattened and 

 cleansed from the effects of its too general diet while at 

 laxge; these pens are made by sinking a barrel or hogs- 

 head half way into the ground, sometimes covering the 

 top to keep out rain, but often open, for the possum can- 

 not climb up the sides of a barrel nor, indeed, can he 

 climb any tree whose circumference he can not grasp 

 more than half-way round. There are often a dozen or 

 more possums in one pen, where they are fed and watered 

 regularly and soon become as fat as a Strasbm-g goose. 



The possum when killed is dressed like a pig, that is, 

 the body is scalded and picked (not skinned) clean of its 

 coating and well singed; it is then given a thorough 

 salting and placed in an oven, with a liberal seasoning of 

 red pepper and a plentiful supply of sweet potatoes, and 

 baked until it is cooked through and through and the 

 skin is toasted to a crisp brown; its own fat and juices 

 make the most piquant of sauces and a sea of the richest 

 gravy, in which float the miniature islands of brown 

 potatoes that melt in the mouth. The possum, when 

 cooked, is very much like a sucking pig, both in appear- 

 ance and taste, but is far superior in that it is so much 

 more juicy and has that gamy flavor so highly prized by 

 gourmands. Nest to a possum hunt, there is nothing 

 which a native Southerner enjoys more than a possum 

 supper, for it is to h im what a terrapin stew is to a Mary- 

 lander or a clambake to a Down-Easter, and banquets are 

 often given where a dozen baked possums grace the 

 board. There is one peculiarity, however, about the 

 flesh of a possum , and that is that no dog wiU eat it 

 under any circumstances; I have time and again tempted 

 and deceived the hungriest of dogs with the daintiest bits 

 of cooked possum meat and bones, but, without excep- 

 tion, as soon as the dog would get it in his mouth and 

 taste it he would drop it as he would a hot cake. Why ? 

 No man knows. 



In the fall and early winter is the season for possum 

 hunting, for as the darkies say, "possums don't git ripe 

 till 'Simmons does," At this time only is the possum fit 

 to eat, and at all other seasons he is allowed to go scot 

 free, and is rather given protection by man from his 

 other enemies. He is essentially a nocturnal animal and 

 is seldom seen in daylight, except under the utmost com- 

 pulsion or an unavoidable stress of circumstances; but 

 when nightfall comes and "the sable mantle of darkness 

 is spread o'er all the earth" then the possum comes forth 

 in all his glory, "his highway is everywhere," and he 

 forages in forest, orchard, vineyard, henroost, and every 

 other place, a very monarch of the night, seeking what 

 he may devour. It is therefore in the night time that he 

 must be hunted, and as this is a leisure time with all 

 hands, and no expensive ammunition nor costly equip- 

 ments are required, there are few clear nights when the 

 hunter's horn is not heard or his bright fires seen gleam- 

 ing in the woods. When a possum hunt is on the tapis, 

 it seems to get into the very air and become infectious, 

 and by some sort of freemasonry is at once known to all 

 male kind on the plantation, from the austere master 

 and the young gentlemen of the "great house" to the 

 white-wooled old "uncle" and monkeylike pickaninnies 

 of the "quarters"— and I have often snatohecf one of these 

 whimpering and dusky nimrods from the grasp and 

 wrath of bis irate "mamruy" and borne him in triumph 

 tg tj^e wQpdB, he feeling that the lu^urf was cheaply 



purchased even at the expense of the severe paddling ho 

 was sure to get on the morrow. Even the dogs, Bruno, 

 the majestic St, Bernard; Leo, the surly mastiff; pointers, 

 setters, hounds, terriers and flee, ours of high and low 

 degree. Tray, Blanche, Sweetheart, all are imbued with 

 the spirit of the occasion and eager for the fray, and the 

 rallying notes of the horn can hardly be heard above the 

 din of shouts and laughter of human beings and the 

 howls and yelps of canines. An axe is usually the only 

 weapon carried on a possum hunt, though occasionally a 

 gun is taken along for a chance meeting with bear or 

 other game, but plenty of matches or a chunk of fire and 

 a supply of "fat" kindling wood are indispensable, for a 

 possum hunt without fire is "Hamlet" with the prince 

 left out. 



At a given signal the motley assemblage "makes a 

 break for the woods," laughing, shouting and singing 

 "corn songs," and the dogs keep up a full chorus of de- 

 lighted barking and baying. Some well-known persim- 

 mon grove, paw-paw patch or grape vine thicket is 

 decided on and hither the merry crowd goes pell mell. 

 Soon a young and ambitious hound gives tongue, and is 

 answered by a score of vigorous whoops and halloos; but 

 Uncle Sam, the veteran possum and coon hunter, says 

 shortly, "Dat pup's jess jumped a ole haar [hare], 'taint 

 no possum, an I'se gwine ter larn de dog better sense 

 'fore I gits done wid /iwn." The noise tones down and 

 the pup and his companions are "blown off the trail," and 

 started on another tack, while the party trudges on. 

 After a while old Drummer, the trailer of the pack, opens 

 with a deep mellow bass and finishes up with an anxious 

 tremulous whine. Instantly all feet stop and all tongues 

 are still until the oracle, Uncle Sam, speaks, "Now, dat's 

 somethin' like, ole Drummer he know what he 'bout, an 

 I'll bet a ginger cake a possum's been 'long dere to-night;" 

 and he cocks his head knowingly to one side and his ears 

 seem visibly to stretch toward his favorite hound. In a 

 few minutes the old dog sends forth a confident and jubi- 

 lant yelp and immediately is joined by the rest of the 

 pack in full cry. Uncle Sam simply says, "Dat's him," 

 and a shout goes up, waking the echoes in the woods and 

 hills for a mile around, and a rush is made "to where the 

 music is." No attention is paid to briers, bushes, grape 

 vines or creeks, except by those who trip and fall, and 

 they are left to pull themselves together and follow on. 

 A short and sharp run is made and old Drummer's victori- 

 ous baying tells that the game is treed, and Uncle Sam 

 calls a half -halt with, "Don't you all be in such a big 

 hurry, de possum's dar an' we'll git him, I know, 'cause 

 dat dog don't lie." Still the excitement continues, and 

 aU move forvrard, the hindmost keeping up as best they 

 can. The possum is a clumsy and slow-moving animal 

 on the ground, and when he finds himself pursued will 

 take to the nearest tree he can climb, and try to conceal 

 himself among the branches and leaves, so that a quarter 

 or half-mile chase is the longest, and he is often treed 

 within a few yards from where the trail is struck. 



On arriving at the tree, around which the dogs are 

 jumping and howling as if to split their throats, fires are 

 built, if found necessary, and the hunters peer into the 

 treetop and search'until one sings out, "Dar he. I sees 

 him." "Whar?" "Ober to de lef side, on dat limb dar 

 to'ads de moon." And sure enough, there is seen what 

 appears to be a bunch of wool. All wait for orders, which 

 Uncle Sam issues sharply and decisively, knowing they 

 will be obeyed without hesitation. "Here, Pete, you clam 

 dat tree an' shake de possum out. Marse Gus. you hoi' 

 Bruno; Marse George, you hoi' Leo; an' you little and big 

 niggers hoF all dem oder dogs 'cept ole Drummer, he aint 

 gwineter hurt de possum. Now min' what I teUs you." 



Pete goes up the tree like a squirrel, and, finding the 

 limb on which the game has sought refuge, braces him- 

 self and commences the attack by shaking the limb vigor- 

 ously. This is not such an easy matter as the uninitiated 

 may think, for the possum is a close dinger and his 

 human-like hands grasp the limb firmly while his pre- 

 hensile tail is curled around it and drawn as tightly as the 

 coils of a boa constrictor; indeed, so powerful is the 

 animal's hold and so tenaciously does he hang on that the 

 shaking at one end and the weight at the other often 

 breaks the limb, and the possum falls to the ground with 

 his frail susport still in his embrace; or each foot may be 

 shaken loose, one after the other, and the possum will 

 hang by his tail alone for a long time, and sometimes it is 

 necessary to cut the branch from the tree to get the game. 

 When Pete has fairly shaken the possum loose, and sees 

 that he is about to succumb, he gives the cry of warning, 

 "Look out, here he comes," and as the quarry strikes the 

 ground it is covered by old Drummer, while the other 

 dogs surge frantically and try to get into the melee. There 

 is no fight, however, for the animal simply curls himself 

 into a baU and "plays possum," while his thick coat of 

 wool and fur protects him from serious injury by the dog's 

 teeth (it is another peculiarity of this animal that it will 

 seldom fight a dog, although it often whips a coon that 

 can get away with half a dozen dogs). When the dog 

 tousels the possum until it is thoroughly "sullen," it is put 

 in a bag, or its tail is wrapped around a stick (to which it 

 holds "like grim death to "S dead nigger"), and thus it is 

 carried by the hunter. There is a general jollification 

 when the game is bagged, and point after point is visited, 

 with varying success, until the crowing of the chickens 

 in neighboring barnyards warns the hunters to hasten 

 homeward and snatch what sleep they can before morn- 

 ing, when the game is taken home and put in the fatten- 

 ing pen until ready for the bake oven. 



Sometimes a dozen or more possums are caught in one 

 night, and again not more than one or two; when a hunt 

 is successful everybody is jubilant in the extreme, and I 

 have seen a dozen men and boys and twice as many dogs 

 return from a hunt with only one possum, yet cheer more 

 enthusiastically than other parties who came in laden 

 with deer, turkeys and bear. But if a possum hunting 

 party that gets caught in the rain and secures no game, 

 especially if it runs across the trail and has a fight with a 

 polecat (which all dogs are in honor bound to do on every 

 opportunity), there is afforded a most perfect picture of 

 disgusted despair, and the hunters are the legitimate butt 

 of the jokes and chaffing of the neighborhood until re- 

 deemed by a successful hunt. 



The possum hunt is often varied by a "possum bake" in 

 the woods, and this is one of its most pleasing features. 

 The party take along a supply of salt, red pepper and 

 bread, and occasionally a jug of cider. The possum is 

 to be caught and the potatoes ai'e to be foraged for in 

 some convenient patch, and if an orchard is handy a few 

 l^atfuls of apples §nd g, l^tQ w§.terme}p|iQr two fiiruisk 



excellent dessert. When the first good fat possum is 

 caught, the chief cook immediately sets about dressing 

 it, whUe the others dig a hole of suitable size in the 

 ground and build a rousing fire in it. By the time the 

 possum is dressed the hole is red hot and makes a first- 

 class oven; and the carcass, after being well salted and 

 peppered, together with the potatoes, is placed in the pit 

 (in a pan usually brought for the purpose or on a thick 

 bed of green leaves). It is covered with a flat stone, and 

 a lot of live coals are heaped over and around it. The 

 crook remains in "camp'" to attend to the baking, and the 

 others continue the hunt, returning in a couple of hours 

 or so, by which time the meal is ready to be served. The 

 keen appetites of the hunters, the rich juiciness of the 

 game, the cheerful blaze of the fires and the wild sur- 

 roundings give a zest and piquancy not to be found at 

 more elaborate banquets, and never to be forgotten by 

 one who has been so fortunate as to participate in a 

 "possum bake" in the woods. 



There is a charm and a fascination in the possum hunt 

 which always brings sweet memories to the country- 

 raised Southerner, and are not to be appreciated by 

 others. Just say to one of these old white-haired veter- 

 ans, "Let's go possum hunting," and immediately hia 

 face lights up with a smile, there is forgiveness in hia 

 heart for every enemy and he is at peace with all the 

 world, while memory runs riot in the misty paPt, and the 

 most pleasant recollections and reminipcences displace 

 the corking cares and tiresome troubles of to-day, and it 

 is only with a deep sigh of regret that the dream is 

 broken. I have known grave Senators, astute lawyers, 

 millionaire business men, iirofessional men and foreign 

 travelers, men from almost every grade and pursuit of 

 life, to return in their sixties for brief visits to the old 

 plantations, and despite their rheumatism they would go 

 possum hunting and enjoy the sport in full as much as 

 their accompanying grandsons, and each had a stock of 

 marvelous tales to tell of bis glorious hunts, "When I 

 was a boy, before the war, you know." Well, well, pos- 

 sum hunting is the essence of broad, good-natured fun in 

 sporting, and is free from many of the unpleasant draw- 

 backs and dangers of other kinds of hunting, and will 

 richly repay a stranger to its fascinations any trouble or 

 inconvenience of a trial should he be sojourning in the 

 land of possums in hunting season. Such an one would 

 be repaid for a journey to the favored land for that 

 special purpose, though tyros should by all means get 

 some Uncle Sam, who is to be found on every plantation, 

 to act as master of the hunt. ' P. 



IN CARIBOU LAND. 



IF you set out for a land well known to be flowing with 

 milk and honey, bear in mind (lest disappointment 

 follow) that you may strike the stream at a point where 

 the milk has become sour and the honey has been infected 

 with rank herbs. Perhaps the surest way to get these 

 luxuries in their best state is to buy your milk in sealed 

 bottles at the creamery and get your honey at first hands 

 from the manufacturer of glucose. 



These thoughts occurred to me some two weeks after I 

 had begun to haunt a region known to be swarming with 

 caribou. Two years before a sterling sort of a man, whom 

 I know, had been over the same country, and his tales 

 inflamed me with the hope that a moderately weak person 

 could walk far enough and fast enough to catch all the 

 caribou he wanted in a few days in that favored spot. My 

 informant himself had been fairly besieged by the ani- 

 mals. Camp where he would, the oldest bulls with the 

 biggest heads would come to look in on his domesticity. 

 He would usually kill what specimens he needed for hia 

 museum before breakfast, and would meet the remainder 

 of the herd when he went to round up the horses. 



Oh! country of Cockagne. Oh! game preserves of 

 Spanish castles, where are you now? While I had spent 

 weeks of wheezing exertion in scaling the rocky homes 

 of sheep and goat, this my informant and good friend had 

 in a few days filled his platter and his game bag and 

 loaded his pack animals with hides and horns and ten- 

 derloins. You can see the hides and horns to-day set up 

 in such a fashion that you would think the great beasta 

 could move, if you visited a certain museum in one of the 

 chief cities of British Columbia, but the tenderloins are 

 gone forever. 



Age and experience, "which ought to teach a man sense 

 in any other relation in life, have little effect on the con: 

 firmed lover of woods and mountains. He will seek the 

 stimulus of that dear society, though it cost him labor 

 that might win a fortune if rightly applied. Like the 

 whisky toper and the opium fiend he may suffer, yet he 

 must have his accustomed tonic. Here then is a man, 

 whose age and experience avail him nothing, listening to 

 stories of the easy capture of splendid trophies. It is a 

 combination of fire and tow, resulting often in smoke. 



In caribou land it is best to have a guide. In most 



f laces where the features of the country are pronounced 

 prefer to have only a packer and a map, but it is differ- 

 ent here. For mile after mile the surface presents the 

 same general appearance. Low buttes, shallow lakes, 

 swamps surrounded by wide tracts of evergreen timber, 

 damp and mossy under foot, heaped and tangled with 

 fallen logs and underbrush. For hours one can see noth- 

 ing but the trees around, and little patches of sky above, 

 while the turnings of the path take away all sense of 

 direction, if the day be overcast, so that the sun gives no 

 help. If you go far without knowing the lay of the land 

 you will be lost sufficiently to spend the night in cold, 

 wet discomfort. So I took a guide. The fact that the 

 price of guides is rising is a good indication that the 

 hunting is on the decline. And when guides band to- 

 gether, like cab drivers, to oppress their customers, it is 

 clear that sport in that neighborhood is overdone. But 

 my guide Inness was so good that I forgive his price. 



Then I took a boy for cook. Really I meant that the 

 guide should cook and the boy should look after the 

 horses, for Donald was a half-breed fresh from the 

 maternal wigwam, who made sad work of his few words 

 of English and with savage bluntn ess proclaimed, "Guess 

 I don't know much cook." However, he did cook, and 

 by a little teaching he became a very decent camp cook ; 

 also he packed, also he tended the horses. 



Inness was a half-breed too, but his command of 

 English, though small, was larger and, besides the re- 

 sources of the Smilkameen and the Chinook languages, 

 he had a certain stock of trapper's French. Perhaps 

 trappers' French is the same as Canadian French. Per- 

 haps Inness s|>oke poor French anyhow. At alj ©vents 



