Right smart
huntin' they was, and 'tain't so bad now. They's rabbits and 'coons and
'possums, sure enough, and deer too; and--Cats? Why, cats is plenty,
but they ain't no 'count.
"I niver hunted much myself, but I've heerd an old man tell--Higgins by
name. Ef you could find him and could get him _right_, he'd tell you
right smart o' stories about varmints, and Injuns too. I've heerd him
tell how he went out with some puppies one time to larn 'em to hunt
bear. He heerd one o' the puppies a-screechin', and kase he didn't want
to lose him he run up. The screechin' come from a sort o' scrub, and he
got clost up afore he see it was a she-bear and two cubs. The bear had
the puppy, but when she see Higgins she dropped hit and made for him.
Now, you know, a bear ain't like no varmint nor cow-beast; hit don't go
'round under the trees, but jest makes a road for itself over the
scrub. Higgins hadn't no time to take aim, and ef he'd 'a missed he was
gone, sure 'nough; so he jest drawred his knife, and when she riz up to
clutch him he stuck her plum in the heart. Killed her, dead.
"No, I never had no trouble with Injuns. They was all gone to the
Nation when I settled yere, but I see Billy Bow-legs onct, and Jumper,
too.
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