A FEW DAYS LATER, ON HIS WAY BACK FROM THE MILL, ONE of the Hatfield boys stopped at our place. He told me my grandfather wanted to see me. It was unusual for Grandpa to send for me and it had me worried. I figured that he wanted to talk to me about the death of Rubin Pritchard. I always enjoyed talking to my grandpa but I didn't want to talk about Rubin's death. Every time I thought of him, I lived the horrible tragedy all over again.
After a practically sleepless night, the next morning I started for the store. I was walking along deep in thought when Little Ann zipped by me. She was as happy as a young gray squirrel. She wiggled and twisted and once she barked at me. I looked behind me. There was Old Dan trotting along. He stopped when I turned around. Little Ann came up to me. I scolded them and tried to explain that I wasn't going hunting. I was just going up to the store to see what my grandpa wanted. They couldn't, or didn't, want to understand.
I picked up a small stick and slapped my leg with it. In a deep voice I said, "Now you go home, or I'm going to wear you out."
This hurt their feelings. With their tails between their legs and trotting side by side, they started back. Every little way they would stop and look back at me. It was too much. I couldn't stand it. I began to feel bad all over.
"Well, all right," I said. "Come on, you can go, but, Dan, if there are any dogs around the store, and you get in a fight, I won't take you hunting for a whole year, and I mean that," although I knew I didn't.
They came running, tickled to death. Little Ann took one of her silly spells. She started nipping at the long red tail of Old Dan. Not getting any reaction from him, she jumped over him. She barked at him. He wouldn't even look at her. She ran around in front of him and laid down in the trail, acting like a cat ready to spring. Stiff-legged, he walked up close to her, stopped, and showed his teeth. I laughed out loud. I knew he wouldn't bite her any more than he would bite me. He was just acting tough because he was a boy dog.
After several attempts to get him to play, Little Ann gave up. Together they started sniffing around in the underbrush.
As I walked up in front of the store, Grandpa hollered at me from the barn. I went over to him. Right away he wanted to know all about Rubin's accident. He listened while I told the story over again.
After I had had my say, Grandpa stood looking down at the ground. There was a deep frown on his face, and a hurt look in his eyes. His quietness made me feel uneasy. He finally raised his head and looked at me. What I could see in his friendly old face tore at my heart. It seemed that there were more wrinkles than I had ever seen before. His uncombed, iron-gray hair looked almost white. I noticed that his wrinkled old hand trembled as he rubbed the wire-stiff stubble on his chin.
In a low voice that quivered as he talked, he said, "Billy, I'm sorry about all this. Truly sorry. I can't help but feel that in a way it was my fault."
"No, Grandpa," I said, "it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened and no one could help it."
"I know," he said, "but if I hadn't called Rubin's bet, nothing would have happened. I guess when a man gets old he doesn't think straight. I shouldn't have let those boys get under my skin."
"Grandpa," I said, "Rubin and Rainie could get under anybody's skin. You couldn't help that. Why, they get under everyone's skin that gets close to them."
"Yes, I know," he said, "but still I acted like a fool. Billy, I had no idea things were going to turn out like they did, or I wouldn't have called that bet."
Wanting to change the conversation, I said, "Grandpa, we won that bet fair and square, but they took my money anyway."
I saw the fire come back to his eyes. This made me feel better. He was more like the Grandpa I loved.
"That's all right," he said. "We'll just forget the whole thing."
He stepped over and laid his hand on my shoulder. In a solemn voice, he said, "We won't talk about this again. Now, I want you to forget it ever happened because it wasn't your fault. Oh, I know it's hard for a boy to ever completely forget something like that. All through your life you'll think of it now and then, but try not to let it bother you, and don't ever feel guilty about it. It's not good for a young boy to feel that way."
I nodded my head, thinking if people would just stop questioning me about Rubin's death, maybe I could forget.
Grandpa said, "Well, the accident wasn't the only thing I wanted to talk to you about. I've got something else—something I think will help us both forget a lot of things."
The twinkle in Grandpa's eyes reminded me of what my father had said: "Seems like that old man can cook up more deals than anyone in the country."
I didn't care how many deals Grandpa cooked up. He was still the best grandpa in the whole wide world.
"What have you got?" I asked.
"Come over to the store," he said, "and I'll show you."
On our way over, I heard him mutter, "I hope this doesn't turn out like the ghost-coon hunt."
On entering the store, Grandpa walked to the post office department, and came back with a newspaper in his hand. He spread it out on the counter.
Pointing with his finger, he said in a loud voice, "Look, there!"
I looked. The large black letters read: CHAMPIONSHIP COON HUNT TO BE HELD. My eyes popped open. Again I read the words.
Grandpa was chuckling.
I said, "Boy, if that isn't something. A championship coon hunt." Wide-eyed, I asked, "Where are they having this hunt, and what does it have to do with us?"
Grandpa was getting excited. Off came his glasses and out came the old red handkerchief. He blew his breath on the lens and polished them. He snorted a time or two, reared back, and almost shouted, "Do with us? Why it has everything to do with us. All my life I've wanted to go to one of these big coon hunts. Why I've even dreamed about it. And now the opportunity has come. Yes, sir, now I can go." He paused. "That is, if it's all right with you."
I was dumbfounded. I said, "All right with me? Why, Grandpa, you know it's all right with me, but what have I got to do with it?"
Grandpa was so excited I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel.
Talking excitedly, he said, "I've got it all fixed, Billy. We can enter Old Dan and Little Ann in this championship hunt."
I was so surprised at what Grandpa had said I couldn't utter a word. At first I was scared and then a wonderful feeling came over me. I felt the excitement of the big hunt as it burned its way into my body. I started breathing like I had been running for a hundred miles. After several attempts, I croaked, "Can just any dog be in this hunt?"
Grandpa almost jumped as he answered, "No, sir, not just any hound can be entered. They have to be the best, and they have to be registered, too."
He started talking with his hands. Pointing to a chair, he said, "Sit down and I'll tell you all about it."
Grandpa calmed down a little and started talking in a serious voice. "Billy," he said, "it takes some doing to have a set of dogs entered in this hunt. I've been working on this for months. I've written letters on top of letters. I've even had several good friends in town helping me. You see, I've kept a record of all the coons your dogs have caught, and believe me, their catch is up there with the best of them. Now, I have already paid the entry fee and everything is fixed. All we have to do is go."
"Entry fee? How much did it cost?" I asked.
"You let me worry about that," he said. "Now what do you say? Want to give it a whirl? I understand the winner receives a gold cup, and you never can tell, we might come home with it. We have as good a chance as anyone else."
Grandpa had me so worked up by this time, I didn't think anyone else had any good hounds but me.
I reared back and blurted, "It's all right with me, Grandpa. Just tell me what to do."
Grandpa flew out of gear like a Model-T Ford. He slapped the counter with his hand. In a pent-up voice, he said, "That's the boy! That's the way I like to hear a coon hunter talk."
With a questioning look on his face, he asked, "Didn't I see your dogs with you when you came up?"
"Yes, they followed me," I said. "They're outside."
"Well, call them in," he said. "I've got something for them."
I called to them. Little Ann came in the store, walking like she was scared. Old Dan came to the door and stopped. I tried to coax him in. It was no use. My dogs, never being allowed in the house, were scared to come in.
Grandpa walked over to a hoop of cheese and cut off two chunks about the size of my fist. He walked to the door, talking to Old Dan. "What's the matter, boy?" he said. "You scared to come in? Well, that shows you're a good dog."
He handed him a piece of the cheese. I heard it rattle in his throat as he gulped it down.
Grandpa came back and set Little Ann up on the counter. He chuckled as he broke the cheese up in small pieces and fed her.
"Yes, sir," he said, "I think we have the best darn coon hounds in these Ozark Mountains, and just as sure as shootin', we're going to win that gold cup."
Grandpa didn't have to say that. The way I was feeling, I already had the cup. All I had to do was go and get it.
Finished with his feeding of Little Ann, Grandpa said, "Now, let's see. The hunt starts on the twenty-third. That's about—well, let's see—this is the seventeenth." Counting on his fingers he finally figured it out. "That's six days from now," he said in a jubilant voice.
I nodded my head.
"We can leave here early on the morning of the twenty-second," he said, "and barring accidents, we should make the campground in plenty of time for the grand opening."
I asked how we were going.
"We'll go in my buggy," he said. "I'll load the tent and everything the night before."
I asked him what he wanted me to bring.
"Nothing," he said, "but these two little hounds, and you be here early; and I believe I'd let these dogs rest, 'cause we want them in tiptop shape when we get there."
I saw the thinking wrinkles bunch up on Grandpa's forehead.
"You reckon your daddy would like to go?" he asked. "As late in the fall as it is, I don't think he's too busy, is he?"
"No, our crops are all gathered," I said. "We've been clearing some of the bottom land, but that's almost done now."
"Well, ask him," he said. "Tell him I'd like to have him go."
"I'll ask him," I said, "but you know how Papa is. The farm comes first with him."
"I know," Grandpa said, "but you ask him anyway, and tell him what I said. Now it's getting late and you had better be heading for home."
I was almost to the door when Grandpa said, "Wait a minute."
He walked over behind the candy counter and shook out one of the quarter sacks. He filled it up to the brim, bounced it on the counter a few times, and dropped in a few more gumdrops.
With a twinkle in his eye, and a smile on his face, he handed it to me saying, "Save some for your sisters."
I was so choked up I couldn't say anything. I took it and flew out the door, calling to my dogs.
On my way home I didn't walk on the ground. I was way up in the clouds just skipping along. With a song, I told the sycamore trees and the popeyed gray squirrels how happy I was.
Little Ann sensed my happiness. She pranced along on the trail. With a doggish grin on her face, she begged for a piece of candy, which I so gladly gave.
Even Old Dan felt the pleasant atmosphere. His long red tail fanned the air. Once he raised his head and bawled. I stood still and listened to the droning tones of his deep voice. The sound seemed to be trapped for an instant in the thick timber. It rolled around under the tall white sycamores, beat its way through the wild cane, and found freedom out over the clear blue waters of the river. The sound, following the river's course, rolled like the beat of a jungle drum.
As the echo died away in the distance, silence settled over the bottoms. The gray squirrels stopped their chattering. The wild birds quit their singing. I stood still. No sound could be heard. It seemed that all the creatures of the wild were holding their breath. I gazed up to the towering heights of the tall trees. No leaf was stirring. The silence seemed strained and expectant, like a young boy waiting for a firecracker to explode.
I looked at Old Dan. He was standing perfectly still, with his right front foot raised and his long ears fanned open. He seemed to be listening, and challenging any living creature to make a noise.
The silence was broken by the "Whee-e-e-e" of a red-tailed hawk. This seemed to be a signal. All around me the happy atmosphere resumed its natural state.
I heard the "Bam, bam, bam" of a woodpecker high in the top of a box elder snag. The cry of a kingfisher and the scream of a bluejay blended perfectly with the drumlike beat. A barking red squirrel, glued to the side of a hackberry tree, kept time to the music with the beat of his tail.
Each noise I heard and each sight I saw was very familiar to me but I never grew tired of listening and watching. They were a God-sent gift and I enjoyed them all.
As I skipped along, it was hard for me to realize all the wonderful things that had happened to me in such a few short years. I had two of the finest little hounds that ever bawled on the trail of a ringtail coon. I had a wonderful mother and father and three little sisters. I had the best grandpa a boy ever had, and to top it all, I was going on a championship coon hunt. It was no wonder that my heart was bursting with happiness. Wasn't I the luckiest boy in the world?
Everyone was just sitting down to supper when I got home. My sisters quit the table for the candy. I told them to divide it equally. The oldest one asked if I wanted any of it.
"No," I said. "I brought it all for you." Of course, I didn't tell them about the four pieces I had in my pocket.
They thanked me with their clear blue eyes.
I guess it's pretty hard for a young boy to fool his mama. She took one look at me and called me over. She ruffled up my hair, kissed me, and said, "If my little boy's eyes get any bigger they're going to pop right out of his head. Now tell me, what are you so happy about?"
Before I could say anything, Papa chuckled and asked, "What's going on between you and your grandpa? What are you and that old man cooking up now?"
As fast as I could talk I started telling about the big coon hunt. I told how hard Grandpa had been working to have my dogs entered, and how he had already paid my entry fee.
Catching my breath and looking at Papa, I said, "We're going in his buggy and he wants you to go."
I waited in silence for his reply. Papa sat there staring off into space, sipping his coffee and saying nothing. I knew he was thinking.
In the silence I was sure I could hear my heart thumping.
I said, "Papa, please go. We'll have a lot of fun and besides the winner receives a big golden cup."
He scratched his head and said, "Billy, I'd sure like to go, but I don't see how I can with all this work around here."
I was beginning to think that Papa wasn't going to go. Then Mama started talking.
"Work?" she said. "Why, all the work is practically done. I don't know of one thing you couldn't put off for a few days. Why don't you go? You haven't been anywhere since I don't know when."
"It's not only the work I'm thinking of," Papa said. "It's you and the girls."
"Why, don't worry about the girls and me," Mama said. "We'll be all right. Besides, it'll be several months yet before I need any help."
When Mama said this, it dawned on me. I had been so busy with my coon hunting I hadn't noticed anything unusual. Mama's tummy was all swelled up. She was going to have a baby. I felt guilty for not having noticed. I went over and put my arms around her and kissed her.
Papa spoke up. "It's sure going to be a big hunt," he said. "I heard something about it up at the store one day."
"Grandpa said there would be hunters there from everywhere," I said, "and some of the best coon hounds in the country."
"Do you think you have a chance to win the cup?" Papa asked.
I started to answer him when the little one piped up. "They can't beat Old Dan and Little Ann," she said. "I just bet they can't."
Everyone laughed at her serious remark. I would have kissed her but she had candy, corn bread, and molasses all over her face.
I told Papa I didn't know how good those dogs were, but there was one thing I did know. If they beat mine, they would have to hunt harder than they ever had before.
After I had had my say about the dogs, a silence settled over the dining room. Everyone was looking at Papa and waiting for his answer.
I saw a pleased smile spread over his face. He stood up. "All right, I'll go," he said, "and, by golly, we'll bring that gold cup back, too."
My sisters started clapping their hands and squealing with delight. A satisfied smile spread over my mother's face.
At that moment I'm sure no boy in the world could have been happier than I. Tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks. Mama wiped them away with her apron.
In the midst of all the excitement, my little sister, saying not a word, climbed down from her chair. No one said anything. We just watched her.
Still clutching a spoon in her small hand, she came around the table and walked up to me. Looking down at the floor, in a bashful voice, she asked, "Can I have the gold cup?"
Putting my finger under her sticky little chin, I tilted her head up. I smiled as I looked into her clear blue eyes. I said, "Honey, if I win it, I'll give it to no one but you."
I had to cross my heart and hope to die several times before she was satisfied.
Back in her chair she gloated over the others. "You just wait and see," she said. "It'll be all mine, nobody's but mine, and I'll put my banty eggs in it."
"Silly, you don't put banty eggs in a gold cup," the oldest one said. "They're just made to look at."
That night I dreamed about gold cups, little red hounds, and coons as big as rain barrels. Once I woke myself up whooping to my dogs.
The next few days were busy ones for me. Knowing that Papa and I would be gone for several days, I did everything I could to make things convenient for Mama. I chopped a large pile of wood and stacked it close to the kitchen door. To make it easy for her to feed our stock, I cut some poles from the hillside and boxed up one of the stalls in the barn. I filled it full of hay so she wouldn't have to climb the ladder to the loft.
Papa laid down the law to my sisters about being good and helping Mama while we were gone.
The day before we were to leave, I was as nervous as a June bug in a henhouse. The day seemed endless. A few of the miserable hours were spent talking to my dogs. I told them all about the big hunt and how important it was.
"Now if you don't win the golden cup," I said, "I won't be mad because I know you will do your best."
Old Dan wouldn't even look at me, and paid no attention to what I said. He was sulking because I hadn't been taking him hunting. When I talked to Little Ann, it was different. She listened and seemed to understand everything I said.
I dreaded to go to bed that night. I thought sleep would be impossible. I must have been more tired than I thought I was. I fell asleep almost immediately. Old Red, our rooster, woke me at daybreak, crowing his fool head off.
It was a beautiful morning, clear and frosty.
After a good breakfast, we kissed Mama goodbye and started for the store.
I'm sure there were a lot of coon hunters in the Ozarks, but on that morning none could have felt as big and important as I. Walking along by the side of my father, I threw out my chest and tried hard to keep pace with his long strides. He noticed and laughed.
"You'll have to grow a little bit," he said, "before you can take steps that long."
I didn't say anything. I just smiled.
Hearing a noise overhead, I looked up. The gray ones were winging their way southward. I listened to their talking and wondered what they were saying.
Looking to the mountains around us, I saw that the mysterious artist who comes at night had paid us a visit. I wondered how he could paint so many different colors in one night; red, wine, yellow, and rust.
My dogs were trotting along in front of us. I smiled at the way their hind quarters shifted to the right. Little Ann would jump and bounce and try to get Old Dan to play, but the solemn old boy just jogged along, heedless of everything.
"You know," Papa said, "she doesn't even act like a hound. She is bouncing and playing all the time. Why, she acts more like a little pup than a hound."
"Yes, I know," I said. "I've noticed that myself, but you know one thing, Papa, she's the smartest dog I've ever seen. Why, some of the things she does are almost unbelievable."
"Yes, I know," said Papa, "but still it's strange, very strange."
"There's only one thing wrong with her, Papa," I said.
"Yea, what's that?" he asked.
"You won't believe it," I said, "but she's gun-shy."
"Gun-shy? How do you know she's gun-shy?" Papa asked.
"I didn't know for a long time," I said, "until one day when I was hoeing corn down in the field by the old slough. She and Old Dan were digging in a bank after a ground hog. Across the river some fishermen started shooting a gun. It scared Little Ann, and she came running to me, shaking all over."
"Aw," Papa said, "maybe you just thought she was scared."
"No, I didn't, Papa," I said. "It happened again up at the store one day. Grandpa shot a chicken hawk. When the gun went off, it scared her half to death. No, she's gun-shy all right."
"Aw, well," Papa said, "that doesn't mean anything. A lot of dogs are afraid of guns."
"I know," I said, "but you wouldn't think she would be that way. I believe if I had a gun of my own I could break her of being gun-shy."
Papa looked at me. He said, "From what your mother says, you won't be getting a gun for some time yet."
"Yes, I know," I said.
When we reached the store we saw the team was already hitched to the buggy and was standing in front of the store. Grandpa had loaded the tent and several boxes of groceries.
I had never seen him in such high spirits. He slapped Papa on the back, saying, "I'm sure glad you could go with us. It'll do you good to get out once in a while."
Papa laughed and said, "It looked like I had to go or have everyone in the family mad at me."
Looking in the buggy I saw my ax. I didn't think I ever wanted to see it again, but for some reason it didn't look like I thought it would. There was no blood on it and it looked harmless enough laying there all clean and bright.
Grandpa saw me looking at it. He came over.
"I kept it a few days," he said, "just in case the marshal wanted to ask some questions. Everything seems to be all right now, and we may need a good ax on this hunt."
Grandpa sensed how I felt about the ax. He waited in silence for my answer.
The excitement of the hunt was so strong in me, even the sight of the ax brought back only a fleeting remembrance of Rubin's accident.
I said, "Yes, we will need one. Besides, it's a good one and there's no use in throwing it away."
Grandpa laughed, reached over, and screwed my cap around on my head, saying, "That the boy, that's what I wanted you to say. Now, you better go to the barn and get some hay and make a bed in the buggy box for your dogs."
"Aw, Grandpa," I said, "they can walk. They don't ever get tired; besides, they're used to walking."
"Walk!" Grandpa almost shouted. "They're not going to walk. No, sir, not if I can help it. You want them to be footsore when we get there?"
Papa chuckled and said, "We can't win a gold cup with two sore-footed hounds, can we?"
"Of course not," Grandpa said. "Now, you go and get that hay like I said."
As I turned to go to the barn I couldn't help but smile. It made me feel good to have my papa and grandpa so concerned about my dogs.
I had taken only a few steps when Grandpa said, "Oh, wait a minute."
I stopped and turned around.
Walking up to me and glancing toward the house as he did, he whispered, "In that empty kraut barrel in the harness room, there's a jug of corn liquor. Cover it up in the hay so your grandma won't see it, and bring it back with you."
With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "You never can tell when we'll need some medicine."
I knew my father wouldn't drink any of the liquor, but if Grandpa wanted to take along a whole barrel, it was all right with me.
Just when I thought we were ready to leave, Grandma came bustling out.
Grandpa got nervous. He whispered and asked, "Did you hide the jug good?"
I nodded my head.
Grandma handed Grandpa a pair of long-handle underwear and a scarf, saying, "I knew you'd forget something."
Grandpa snorted but knew there was no use arguing with her.
She started picking around in the groceries, asking about salt, pepper, and matches.
"Nannie, we've got everything," he said. "You must think I'm a baby and don't know how to pack a grub box."
"A baby," Grandma snorted. "Why, you're worse than a baby. At least they have a little sense. You don't have any at all. An old codger like you out chasing a coon all over the hills."
At her biting remark, I thought Grandpa was going to blow up. He snorted like Daisy, our milk cow, when she had seen a booger.
I crawled up in the buggy box with my dogs and hung my feet out.
Grandma came over and asked me about warm clothes. I told her I had plenty.
She kissed me good-bye and we were on our way.