water’s edge. The other dogs made for the fight but by the time 
they arrived the coon had reached the water and was swimming 
away. In went Pudle, anxious to do his stuff, and he soon caught 
the coon and brought him to land, where he put the finishing touches 
to him. 
It was very hard to find a coon hunting boy that had the gizzard 
to stay with it, but sometimes I could get the negro men to go and 
climb and chop down trees, with the promise of a coon to eat. 
There was a bend in the river near where I was hunting one 
year, which was called ‘‘Peddler’s Bend”. It got its name from a 
couple of young men named Riddle and Griffin, who murdered a 
peddler, tied rocks to him and threw him in the river at this spot. 
Both of the men were afterwards caught and sent to the penitentiary. 
One night I had two negro men with me and old Braun struck a coon 
track and the coon headed straight for Peddler’s Bend. The negroes 
followed for a little way and suddenly one of them stopped, saying, 
“I ain’t gwine over in dat bend”. I was thoroughly disgusted. All I 
could think of was the coon old Braun was running, so rather im¬ 
patiently I asked why. The answer which came readily was as I had 
expected, “’Cause dat bend am haunted”. 
The dogs now had the coon treed and I tried my best to get the 
negroes to follow me, but to no avail; all I could get was their stub¬ 
born, “If dat am wat you wants us two to do we am gwine home.” 
1 insisted farther, asking them how they knew the river was haunted 
at the bend—one of them replied: 
“You can hear something like big rocks when youse frow dem 
in de ribber. dats de haunts ob dat peddler Riddle and Griffin killed, 
and we ain’t gwine wid youse to dat place; you had jes as well call 
de dogs off ’cause we ain’t a gwine dar; we am gwine home.” 
I never liked to have my dogs tree a coon and not go to them, 
so I told the negroes I was going to the dogs—and the two negroes 
went home. When I neared the bend I could hear, on the bluff of 
rocks above the dogs, something pounding in the water. I said to 
myself, “That is the negroes’ haunt”, so I climbed down to the water’s 
edge and sat for a few minutes to listen. It was quiet now, and I 
wanted to locate that haunt. Pretty soon a beaver came swimming 
along and he would raise his tail and bring it against the water, mak¬ 
ing quite a slapping sound. I had seen beavers do this, in the day 
time, so I immediately recognized the negroes’ haunt. 
After having satisfied myself as to the haunt I hurried to the 
dogs, climbed the tree and shook off the coon. The minute he touched 
the ground the dogs were on him and that was the end of that ringtail. 
The next day I saw the negroes and told them I caught the coon 
They asked me if I heard any haunts and I told them I did, but 
they did not bother me and I did not meddle with the haunts. One 
of them said: 
“Youse gwine to hunt wid dem dogs some night around de grave 
yards and dose haunted places and youse gwine to meet de debel 
his self and dat will sure be de las of you all and dem dogs of yourn.” 
— 11 — 
