206 THE CAROLINA MOUNTAINS 
told the first mountain man you met what you had 
done. Even though he might have no interest in 
the business, by some system of communication the 
news was conveyed to the right place, and when you 
went next day you found your bottle full. Of course 
you kept away from the bottle's hiding-place mean- 
time. The system did not work under observation. 
It is not impossible, even in these days, to get 
samples of exhilarating "corn juice," a colorless 
liquid with a peculiar, flower-like aroma that deceives 
the stranger. It seems, for the first second after it is 
taken into the mouth, as inoffensive as the water it 
looks like, with a delicate flavor of wild flowers. 
But wait another second, and you will think you 
have performed the juggler's feat of eating fire, but 
without knowing how. In time it might ripen, but 
it never has time. It is the only thing in the South 
that cannot wait. It is enough to strangle a croco- 
dile, and yet the trained native finds it too mild to 
suit his palate and sometimes adds the juice of the 
buckeye to give it zest. If you have ever tasted 
buckeye juice, you will understand that it is able to 
impart zest. 
When his still was discovered, the moonshiner 
sometimes argued the case quickly and to the point 
with his gun, but generally he hid away. It was only 
from the "revenuers" or "raiders" that he hid, 
however. In the case of a "spy," as he termed those 
overzealous neighbors of his who for the sake of the 
reward paid for such services informed the revenue 
officers where to find his still, he seldom spared the 
