Has anyone here seen the email/article about/by James Martin Willhite, Jr.?

Here is the 1st Chapter:

Chapter 1
Getting Settled

This is a short chapter about the Tensas River Wildlife Refuge and how it related to one family. It begins in 1933 and the events leading up to 1935 are a story within itself. I will begin with the first time I saw what was to become my home for the rest of my childhood and young adult life.

January 6, 1935, Jim and Etta Willhite finished moving the last load of their belongings and their nine children from White's Ferry, which is about seven miles north of West Monroe, LA to Flowers Landing, which is about ten miles northwest of Newellton, LA. Etta and six of the nine children had moved a few months earlier and Derwood, Oliver and I had stayed behind to take care of what was left of our belongings.

At his time I was a tall, skinny, wild eyed eight year old and the whole world, and all that was in it, was one continuous fairytale. For the past couple of years I had listened to the old folks tell tall tales about huge buck deer, as big as cows, bear that weighed six hundred pounds, wild turkeys that stood shirt pocket high and wild hogs that could shear a person's leg off with one vicious blow. Buffalo fish that weighed forty pounds and alligators ten feet long. We were assured we would see all of this when we got to the Tensas woods. I could hardly wait to see it all myself.

January 6, 1935, was a cold, cloudy miserable day with occasional light rain. The gravel road ended about a mile and a half from our house and we got stuck twice trying to get home. When we finally arrived at what was to be my home for many years, there was a roaring fire in a 55 gallon drum we used for a heater and Mother had a big hot pot of Irish stew on the stove. After eating a lions share of hot food and getting warm by the heater I was one tired eight year old. I almost fell into bed and was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow.

When I woke up the next morning I could tell it was beginning to get daylight. I started to get out of bed and found that the bed, floor, and the whole room was covered with a half inch of snow. I put on all the clothes I could find and went downstairs. Derwood was already up and adding wood to the heater. I went outside to see what I could see.

What I saw was a far cry from what I expected. For over a year we had been told that we would live in a two story house when we moved to Tensas. I had visualized a fancy two story home like the ones you see on big ranches and plantations. Well, it was two story alright. It had two rooms upstairs. It was built with mill run oak and sweet gum lumber and there were no battens over the cracks on the walls. The roof was made of rough oak boards that had warped and curled up on the sides to a point that you could see the sky through the cracks.

I walked to the edge of the woods (which was about twenty five yards from the house) to look for game. I saw nothing. I walked to the other side of the house and went a short distance into the woods and stood a long time (fifteen minutes). I still didn't see any game. By then I was getting cold so I went back into the house. Derwood asked, " Where have you been?" I told him I had been hunting on both sides of the house and did not see a single deer, bear, wild hog or anything—not even a wild turkey. Looking back on it now I know it must have been amusing to him but he didn't laugh nor make fun of me. Being the kind of person he was, he sat me down and patiently explained that game didn't come near peoples' houses. If you want to see game you have to go deep into the big woods and hunt them. I was very {missing words} the big woods someone else would have already killed all of the game and I would never have a chance to hunt the big animals.

A few weeks later Dad came in from his trap run and said there was a large bunch of wild hogs using {?} in the Blueline Break, Ridge Lake area. He said the next day he, Derwood and Oliver would take the dogs and try to get some fresh pork. I asked if I could go with them. Dad said " No". I insisted that I had never been hog hunting and I really wanted to go. Dad still said no. When I awoke the next morning I could. hear Dad, Derwood, and Oliver moving around downstairs. I put on my clothes and went down to make one final plea to go with them. Dad started to say no again when Derwood said if he would let me go he would take care of me and see that I didn't get hurt. Dad said, "boy you are only eight years old. You are too little to be running around in those big woods." Then he said to Derwood, "I will let him go, but if you let him get hurt you will answer to your Mama." Derwood said again "I will take care of him."

When we left the house the sky was turning pale in the east. I knew it would soon be daylight. We loaded the dogs into the boat and paddled up the Tensas River about two miles and landed the boat on the Frisby Bend side of the river. We went over the river hill and started walking west toward the lower end of the Blueline Break. What we saw was almost beyond imagination, especially to an eight year old kid. There stood the biggest trees I had ever seen. There were Oak and Sweet Gum trees that were six feet in diameter and looked like they were well over a hundred feet tall. Some of these giant trees had limbs that were as big as most of the largest trees I had ever seen.

We walked around the lower end of the Blueline Break and started up the back side toward ridge Lake. What we saw there was even more impressive. As we continued along the side of the break we started seeing huge cypress trees that were twice as big as the Gum and Oak trees had already seen. By the time we were a few hundred yards up the Break these gigantic cypress trees were so thick they looked as if they could have been planted by some prehistoric people. I asked Derwood how these trees could get so large. He explained that this was virgin timber that had never been cut since the world began. All of this happened sixty one years ago and at times I can still close my eyes and visualize those majestic trees I saw the first time I went into the big woods of the Tensas.

When we were several hundred yards up the break the dogs bayed off to our left in a thicket. We slipped up close and eased into the thicket where we could see the hogs. When we started into the thicket Derwood told me to stay close to him and keep quiet. I said OK. What he didn't know was I was sticking to him like a leech. I wasn't going to let one of the big boars slice my legs off. There were about fifteen hogs in the group. The dogs were holding them close. Dad picked out three nice gilts he wanted to kill and pointed out to Derwood and Oliver which ones to shoot. When Dad said shoot! they shot, the bunch broke and a big sow came out by us. Oliver started to shoot her but Dad said no" Afterward Dad explained we had three hogs on the ground and didn't need any more meat. Then he said never kill any more game than you need to eat. If everyone did this there would always be game to hunt. Dad field dressed the three hogs and headed home.

This ended my first trip into the big woods of the Tensas and my first lesson in wildlife conservation. I was only eight years old at this time. I have spent most of my life on or around the vast wildlife reserve. It has been a wonderful and exciting life with the fondest of memories.

If ya'll want to see it, I'll be more than happy to post them.

There are 12 chapters.


Chapter 2
Buffalo Fish

This story continues from the day Dad, Oliver, Derwood and I went hog hunting and killed three hogs. Dad continued running his traps every day and all of the kids except O.D. and Nita (my oldest brother and sister) and the three babies went to school.

Dad had not sold any fur since before Christmas and had about fifty prime coon hides and some other fur on hand. A fur buyer came by the house one day and asked Mother if Dad had any fur for sale. She said he had a lot of hides but she was not sure he wanted to sell yet. The buyer asked Mother to tell Dad he would be back the next day and make him a good price for the hides.

Dad stayed home and met the with the fur buyer. He knew how much the hides were worth because he had a price list from F.C. Taylor in St. Louis, MO and Sears Roebuck in Chicago, IL.

When the fur buyer arrived he and Dad had a cup of coffee and got down to business. Three hours and two pots of coffee later Dad sold the hides to the buyer. Dad later said he might have gotten more for the hides by shipping them but he needed the money then to buy material to build hoop nets for the buffalo run that would soon come. A couple days later, Dad and Oliver went to Jonesville, LA and bought a truck load of hoop net material.

After that Dad would run the traps every day. When he got home and stretched his hides he would knit on his nets until bedtime. When the trapping season was over he had knitted several nets. Mother also knew how to knit nets and she taught Nita and O.D. how. In all they knitted about fifteen nets.

Even though a lot of things was going on such as clearing land, preparing the land for a garden, set out cabbage and onion sets in the garden, most of the conversation around the supper table was centered around the buffalo run. I could hardly wait to see if I could see any fish. Saw none. Once, after looking into water for a long time and not seeing any fish, I told Derwood I thought everyone was wasting their time making all those nets. That I had spent a lot of time watching the water and had not seen a single forty pound fish. Derwood said, "It is not time to catch the buffalo fish. Wait until the rains come and the river rises, then you will see more buffalo fish than you can ever imagine. Tensas River has millions of them and you will see them when the time comes.

Dad hooped and hung the nets. He, O.D. and Oliver fired up the tar, tarred the nets and hung them up to dry. Dad said, when the rains come we will be ready. Dad, Oliver and Derwood spent the next few days clearing out net sets along the river banks. Dad built a huge 8x8x8x ft. live box and floated it with two dry logs. He also made a large dipnet with a handle about ten feet long.

Finally the rains came. It poured down for two days and nights. Tensas River rose ten feet almost overnight. Dad waited until the river crested and started to fall. Then he set out the nets. At first he didn't catch many fish. The first day he caught about two hundred pounds. That was a lot of fish to me but Dad seemed to be disappointed. The river continued to fall and Dad changed net sets several times. During this time he was catching two to three hundred pounds of fish per day. He put them in the live box until he had about one thousand pounds, then he carried them to the market.

Soon the rains came again and Dad caught more and more fish. First it was four hundred, then six, then eight until by the middle of the running season he was catching a thousand pounds per day. Every chance I had I went to the landing and waited for Dad and others to come in from raising the nets to see if they caught a forty pound buffalo. It wasn't until the latter part of the running season that they finally caught a forty pounder. Within the next few weeks they caught several forty and even a couple fifty pounders.

The big woods of the Tensas and the river itself had again lived up to my wildest expectation. In this short time I had seen the giant trees, the wild hogs and now I had seen the huge forty pound buffalo fish. As seen through the eyes of this wide eyed eight year old, the big woods of the Tensas had to be the most wonderful place on earth.

keep em coming

Chapter 4
Catfish and Frogs

The catfish season in the Tensas River was relatively short when compared to the buffalo season. On a good year it lasted four to six weeks. When I speak of a season I mean a period of time when what you are fishing, or hunting for is most plentiful or is easiest to catch. In 1935 the catfishing season was over well before the first of July. When it was over Dad took up his trotlines, dried them, and put them away until another year.

During the months of May and June nothing was going on with the big woods or the Tensas River except the catfishing which didn't take up very much time. That gave Dad some time to work on the house. He put battens on the outside walls and also fixed some of the holes in the roof.

Dad came home from town one day and said he thought he would try to catch some bull frogs. He said Mr. Hugo, who owned Hugo's Market said he would pay fourteen cents per pound for all the frogs we could catch.

Now this frog hunting thing didn't sound very interesting to me. I had a run in with a big frog a couple years before and I didn't want to go back through that again. I was playing in the garden while Mother picked some snap beans. I found a huge toad frog. I picked it up and turned it over so I could see its' belly. It squirted a stream of water as big around as a pencil straight into my face, all in my hair, all over the front of my shirt and in my eyes. I threw that critter as far as I could and ran to Mother screaming and crying at the top of my voice. She took me into the house and washed me and put some dry clothes on. Derwood heard all of the commotion and came inside to see what happened. Mother explained what happened. Derwood said, "Well, if you had kept your mouth open you would not have gotten the mess in your face." I hated him for at least thirty minutes.

Dad bought two pair of frog grabs. I had never seen frog grabs before. They looked like huge crawfish claws and were spring loaded. They had a trigger that snapped the jaws shut when you hit something with it. At first I was deathly afraid of frog grabs. Dad made a cypress handle for each pair of grabs. The handle was about eight feet long and had a paddle on one end. He fastened the grabs to the other end. Then he, Oliver and Derwood started practicing catching things with the grabs. They soon found that two corn cobs made a perfect target to practice on.

On their first frog hunt Dad and Oliver left the house about three o'clock in the afternoon. They took frog grabs, three burlap sacks, a carbide headlight and a small lunch. Dad said he wanted to hunt all the way to Fool River. In order to do so he would have to be well up the Tensas River before dark or he could not get back before daylight the next day.

When daylight came I woke up, woke John A. up and asked if he thought Dad and Oliver had made home yet. He said if you want to know, get up and go see, I'm going back to sleep. When I got up to see that Oliver was not in his bed, I went downstairs and Dad was not in his bed. I went to the river bend and the boat was not at the landing. I ran back to the house to tell John A. They were still not back. Derwood woke and asked what all the racket was about. I told him Dad and Oliver had not come home and I was afraid they were lost in the Big Woods. He explained, it was twelve miles from here to Fool River. They probably didn't get more than half way there before dark yesterday. That old big boat was heavy and hard to paddle. It just took more time than they thought is would. Don't worry about it they will be home soon.

Derwood was right, as usual, and a few minutes later I saw Dad and Oliver coming across the new ground from the river. I ran to meet them and asked Oliver how many they caught. He said a whole bunch. I could see he had all he could carry in one sack. I was hoping for a more exact number, but I could see I wasn't going to get it, at least for then.

When we arrived at the house Dad told Oliver and Derwood to get back to the river and bring the other two sacks up the hill. Now all of this put me in a heck of a bind. I wanted to run down to the boat landing to see what was in the other two sacks. I also wanted to hear what Dad would tell Mother about the hunt. I decided to stay and listen to what Dad said.

Dad told Mother they made it to the Brick Mansion before it was dark enough to light the carbide light. He said as soon as he lit up he started catching frogs. By the time they reached Fool River they had almost filled one sack with frogs. They decided to hunt up Fool River a short distance. By the time they hunted a mile they had filled one sack and started on another. He decided to head for home. He said it was a long twelve mile hunt back home and it got daylight about two miles before they made it.

Derwood and Oliver brought the other two sacks of frogs and laid them near the pump beside the first sack. Dad told Mother to start breakfast and everyone else would dress the frogs. Derwood brought two No. 3 wash tubs and put them near the pump. We took turns pumping water. The moment I had been waiting for was fast approaching. I couldn't wait to see my first bull frog. I had been wondering what they might look like ever since Dad brought the frog grabs home. I had decided they couldn't be as big as the huge toad I had a run in with a couple of years ago, but the way everyone had been talking about their size, they probably didn't like much. Dad untied one of the sacks and told me to hold the sack closed. Then he showed me how to hold the sack open enough for him to get his hand inside and get a frog, then tighten it back when he pulled the frog out. I gripped the sack with both hands. When dad was ready I let a little slack and he fished inside and pulled the frog out. I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

When Dad pulled that monster out of the sack it scared me half to death. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but he wiped the back of my hand and my arm clear to my elbow with that monster's feet. I screamed to the top of my voice, turned loose of the sack and ran like a streak. The sack turned over and about a half dozen frogs got loose. Dad grabbed the sack and closed it. Everybody else was running after the frogs that got loose. It was a total state of confusion. I was backed up against the wall scared half to death. I just knew I was fixing to get a good whipping.

Soon everything settled down. All of the frogs were back in the sack and we were ready to get started again. Dad looked at me and in a strong voice said, "Boy get over here and hold this sack, and I mean hold it this time. Well, it was decision making time again. I had two choices. I could get over there and handle those monster frogs with mouths big enough to swallow my whole hand, or I could face Dad's razor strap. I chose the frogs.

When the frogs were dressed we all went inside and ate breakfast. Mother and Derwood carried the frogs to Hugo's Market. Dad and Oliver went to bed and the rest of us did whatever we were supposed to do. When Dad woke up that evening I heard Mother tell him there was over a hundred pounds of the frogs. Dad said, "This frog hunting might be a way to make some good money. There are plenty of them out there. It will be hard work, but it might be worth it".

For the next few weeks Dad, Oliver and Derwood did nothing but frog hunt. Every hunt they made they caught a hundred pounds or more. It seemed there was no end to how many frogs there was out there. As for this bright eyed eight year old, I could care less how many there was out there. As far as I was concerned they could stay out there. I hated frogs.

Finally we saw Dad's light coming down the lake. When they were less than a hundred yards from the landing Dad shot. We could hear them pull the alligator into the boat. When they reached the landing we found they had killed a small five footer. Oliver pulled it up the hill and placed it by the fire. Upon their arrival the wolves backed off a bit but we could still hear them on three sides of us. Oliver suggested we pull a couple of the big carcasses to the thickets and let the wolves have them. Then maybe they would leave us alone. Dad said, we cannot do that. As it is now the wolves have only smelled the fresh meat. If they ever taste it they will try to take it all and we cannot fight them off. Just keep the fire going and there will be no danger."

Dad asked how many hides we had. Derwood said we had thirteen. Dad said there was a huge alligator that he had been trying to get a shot at all night but he wouldn't let him get close enough. He said he wanted to make one more try before daylight. He and Oliver went back up the lake and Derwood, John A. and I skinned the small gator.

As soon as Dad and Oliver left the three packs of wolves moved back in close. They started snarling and growling and moving in even closer than before. Derwood cut three green sticks we could use for clubs, just in case we had to have them. Before long we heard Dad shoot, then a couple minutes later another shot. We wondered if he had killed two more alligators. I really hoped he had not killed any more. I was tired, hungry and scared half to death of those wolves. All I wanted was to go home and get some food and rest. We saw Dad's light pulling into the landing. About the time they landed the boat all hell broke loose. Two of the big wolves started fighting. Soon they were joined by another and another and another. It sounded like all three packs were engaged in a gang fight. Some of them were screaming in pain, others were making ferocious noises that sounded as if they were trying to kill the other. The fight went on and on. It seemed it would never end.

Finally it suddenly ended. When I say suddenly I mean instantly. One second there was this vicious battle and the next second, total silence. It was almost unbelievable. We all stood in total silence for a couple of minutes, then Dad said, that's it, it's all over, we don't have to worry about wolves anymore tonight." Dad had killed the big alligator he was looking for. It was a huge monster. Dad said he was a big bull gator and guessed he was eight feet long. It took Dad, Oliver and Derwood all three to pull it up to the fire. Oliver asked Dad if they were going back hunting again. Dad said, when we skin this big one we will have fourteen hides. That's enough. There is only three or four left in the lake. We will leave them to raise another crop.

When they finished skinning the big gator it was getting daylight. We rolled the hides into tight rolls and put them in burlap sacks. Then we put them and everything else in the big boat and headed for home. When we were leaving I took one more look at all of those alligator carcasses. It looked like a slaughter house.

This ended my second trip to the Big Woods of the Tensas. I am now older and more grown up than before. In two weeks I would be nine years old.

Chapter 6
Alligator Gar

Another creature that contributed to a great deal to our livelihood was the alligator gar. Anyone who did not actually see these magnificent creatures back then can not possibly imagine their size and numbers.

We had been living at Flower's Landing two or three years when Uncle Carl Willhite (Dad's brother) moved in about a half mile up the Tensas river from our house. He had a small cypress boat made of one-half inch lumber. He kept it treated with linseed oil and it was very light. Two people could drag it anywhere they wanted to go. When we wanted to hunt any of the woods lakes where we needed a boat he would loan it to us. We often borrowed it to pull across the bends of Tensas River and then hunt all the way around the bend to where we began.

Dad and Oliver borrowed the boat one day to go frog hunting around McGill Bend. They paddled up Tensas River to Stewart's Camp which was about a half mile down river from Democrat Bayou. (Stewart's Camp was a small camp house that was used by game wardens and timber wardens when they were working in that area). Then they dragged the boat north across McGill Bend to Squirrel Tail Bayou, which is a small bayou that drains into Tensas River from the Hunters Bend side, a distance of about a mile and a quarter. From Squirrel Tail Bayou to Flowers Landing is about twenty two miles if you follow the river all the way around McGill Bend.

I will tell the story as Dad told to the family the next day. Dad said, "When it got dark we lit the carbide light and started catching frogs. About a half mile from where we started two large gar were feeding on shad. They looked as if they each weighed a hundred pounds or more. There was a lot of shoals in the river and we saw huge gar on almost every one of them. When we reached Parker Boy Bayou we heard a noise that sounded like a drove of large animals splashing around in the water. Parker Boy shoal is about two hundred yards down river from the mouth of Parker Boy Bayou. As we approached the upper end of the shoal we started seeing millions of shad feeding in the shallow water. The loud splashing was getting more intense. Ahead of us we could see huge splashes of water being thrown ten or fifteen feet into the air. When we were half way across the shoal we saw a huge gar swimming up stream against the current. He swam right past our boat not more than four feet away. Just as he passed the back of our boat he rolled over and threw water high into the air. Dad shined the light down river and could see the water was in constant turmoil for a hundred yards. When we got near the confusion we started seeing the most and largest bunch of gar I had ever seen. I didn't know what to do. We were in Carl's little boat and I was afraid one of those huge gar might attack it. If that happened we might not survive. We landed the boat and stood on the bank awhile just looking at the huge creatures. There were millions of shad and dozens of huge gar. Finally I told Oliver if we could make it a hundred yards we would be off of the shoal and I thought we would be safe. We got in the boat and slowly drifted off of the shoal. We saw several huge gar as we drifted down stream. When we reached deep water we didn't see any more gar until we reached Fool River Shoal.

When we reached the mouth of Fool River, which was half mile from the shoal, we could still hear the loud splashing behind us. We saw several big gar on the Fool River shoal and some of the other shoals on the way home but nothing compared to what we saw on the Parker Boy shoal. Dad decided he could build a strong gig with long beards and gig the big gar. He worked all day building the gig. It had two prongs made of half inch steel rods about ten inches long with one inch beards. It had a strong cypress handle about eight feet long. The next day around noon, Dad, Oliver, Derwood, John A. and I left home heading for Parker Boy shoal to gig gar. It is about thirteen miles from Flowers Landing to Parker Boy Bayou. With all five of us paddling we made good time. We arrived at the shoal before dark. We ate a small lunch Mother had prepared. Then we sat on the river bank and waited until dark.

About sundown the shads started moving into the shallow water. Forty or fifty Buffalo fish also moved onto the shoal and started feeding in the shallow water, but no gar could be seen. Dad lit the headlight and watched the river for the gar. The shad kept getting thicker and thicker in the shallow water until it looked as if there was one huge school that reached from bank to bank in the river. Soon there was a loud splash in the water about twenty yards up river from our boat. Then another huge splash near the middle of the river. Dad said, "It sounds like they are moving in. Let's try them".

We got into the boat and shoved it toward the middle of the river. The water was about three feet deep and very clear. Dad saw a big gar in front of and off the right of the boat. He motioned for us to turn the boat toward the gar. When he was exactly where he wanted to be he raised the gig high and slammed it into the side of the big gar with all of his strength. Both prongs of the gig hit the gar about ten inches behind the gills. When the gig hit the big gar he rolled over and reversed direction all in one movement. This created a huge boil and splash and water was thrown high in the air wetting everyone in the boat. Like a streak the big gar headed down stream rolling and splashing water as he went. The big gig pole was popping like a kite tail. About forty yards down stream the huge creature made one last leap into the air and the gig came out. One moment there was turmoil in the water, the next moment there was total silence. We drifted down to the gig and Dad picked it up and examined it. There was meat on both beards of the gig. We could not understand how the gar could have possibly gotten off.

All of the noise and turmoil created by the first gar caused most of the other gar to move out of the shallow water. We shoved the boat back up stream to the upper end of the shoal and did not see another gar. We turned around and started back across the shoal. We were about half way back across the shallow water when we found a big gar hiding beside a log. We moved the boat in close and Dad again threw the gig into the big gar. Again the big gar rolled and boiled the water and headed down stream. This time he went about twenty yards when the gig came out. Dad said, "This is not going to work. We are going to have to find another way to get these big gar." We headed home. On the way home Dad gigged several more gar and every one of them got off the gig. When we were about a half mile down stream from Republican Bayou, Dad saw, what he said was the biggest gar he had ever seen. He threw the gig at him but the water was deeper than he thought and the gig passed over the top of him. From the boil he made in the water he had to be a mighty big gar.

Dad had three buffalo gigs that were made by a man in West Monroe, Louisiana. The two prongs were about seven inches long and was made of quarter inch spring steel. It had hinged beards which were about one inch long. The points were tapered from the inside of the gig. When the gig hit a fish the beards folded up against the prongs. When the fish pulled on the gig the beards opened up and there was no way the fish could get off. To get the gig out of the fish you had to push the prongs all the way through the fish and wrap the beards with a soft strip of cloth to keep them from opening up. Then the prongs could be pulled out of the fish.

Continued

When the gig hit the big gar the whole side of the tree top seemed to explode. Mud and water boiled up from the bottom of the river and the huge gar tore out of the tree top and headed for deep water. Oliver said, "That is the monster gar we have been trying to kill for years. Both prongs of the gig are in him right behind the head. We have him now." Well, not quite. It was true the gig was in him in the right place but it as it turned out we were a long way from having him. When the big gar left the tree top he headed down stream. When he reached deep water the gig pole disappeared and that was the last we saw of him for over half an hour.

As we paddled down stream looking for the big gar Oliver explained, "When I first saw the big devil I knew it looked like a gar but it was too big. I could not see his eye so I thought it must be a log. When I looked off then back to the tree top I saw his eye. When we circled back I could see both his eye and his body. He still looked like a big log but I knew it was a huge gar. That is when I gigged him.

Finally, after going down stream about a quarter mile we saw the end of the gig pole sticking out of the water about six inches. We quietly paddled to it and Oliver caught hold of it and tried to pull it up. When he pulled on the pole the big gar took off down river again. The next time we saw the pole sticking up we were two hundred yards further down. We repeated this over and over again. We would find the pole, pull on it and the gar would snatch it away from us and go another two hundred yards. We went from one end of the deep hole to the other several times. Finally after about two hours of chasing the big gar up and down the river, he started showing signs of weakening. We could lift him high enough to see him but not high enough to hit him with the ax. Oliver would catch hold of the gig pole and shake it and the gar would lunge forward but he wouldn't go but a few yards and then stop, but we still couldn't get his head high enough to hit with the ax. We had to find another way to land him. We decided that I would go on the bank with the ax. John A. would paddle the boat and Oliver would guide the gar into the shallow water and I would hit him with the ax. After trying this three times they finally guided the monster into shallow enough water that I could hit him. I raised the ax high and brought it down hard just behind the head. The battle was over. The monster gar was dead. Oliver leaned backward and let out a loud scream that sounded something like a rebel yell and said "I promised I would some day kill the big monster gar. Now I have kept my promise."

It took all three of us quite a long time to get the huge gar into the boat. When we finally did the boat was loaded. There was not more than an inch of the boat above the water on either side. We had to be very careful not to tip it.

When we arrived home it was starting to get daylight. We left the gar in the boat and went to the house to tell everyone what we had. Dad, Mother and most of the kids went to the landing to see the huge gar. Dad stood and looked at the big gar a long time. Then he said, "All of you kids take a good look at the huge gar. You will never again see another one this big." He was right. This all happened over sixty years ago and I have never seen a gar much more than half this size since that day.

Is there a duck hunting one?

Will read when sober. From the ETA: credible: posters saying they want more, I will second this.



RT

Sorry for the delay:

Chapter 7
Depression Years

When we are growing up during the depression everyone who was old enough worked. When I was eight years old, I was expected to be out there working along side my older brothers. I may not get as much done as they did but I work just as hard.

While some of us were working with the crops, clearing land and or doing anything else that needed doing, Dad and two or three of the older boys were always fishing, trapping, frog hunting, alligator hunting, or doing anything they could to keep some money coming in.

When I was ten years old, John A. was twelve and Oliver was sixteen, Dad sent us on a seven night frog hunt. We hunted Tensas River from Flowers Landing to Rafkin (Rathman) Mound and back to Tendal. We caught a lot of frogs and the next year he sent us back to do it again. This time he sent only John A. and I.

I can tell you now, there was a lot of difference in John A. and I making this trip than it was when Oliver was with us. Without that third paddle we couldn't make nearly as good time. Besides that, Oliver was a grown man. He knew how to cook, lay out bedrolls, and put up mosquito nets for the best protection, and a hundred other things the John A. and I had never thought about. It is true, we had made the trip the year before and thought we knew exactly how to do it. (Remember I said "THOUGHT").

The day we were to start the trip Dad set John A. and I down and explained what we were to do. We would hunt to the upper end of Fool River the first night and make camp at the mouth of Roaring Bayou. The next night we would hunt to the Hunters Bend crossing. This crossing was near where the bridge is now. Dad would meet us there and pick up what frogs we had. We would plan the rest of the trip at that time.

Mother made a bed roll which consisted of two quilts, one sheet and a mosquito net. Mother also boxed up some dishes. We had a frying pan, two tin cups, two tin plates, two forks, a tablespoon and what we called a flapjack flipper. Actually it was an egg turner. We also had a one gallon syrup bucket for making coffee. For groceries we had a gallon syrup bucket of hog lard, a half gallon syrup bucket of ribbon cane syrup, a ten pound sack of flour, a two pound sack of coffee, a quart jar of sugar, a pint jar of salt and about two pounds of dry salt meat. Mother made a small lunch of some biscuits and a few slices of salt meat. She said we could have this for breakfast the first morning.

We loaded all of this into the boat and by the time we got under way it was dark enough to light the carbide light. We started catching frogs as soon as we got started. We traveled at a strong steady pace. We knew not to rush it or we would give out before daylight. We made better time on the shoals where we could push along on the bottom. In deep water it was much harder and slower.

When we reached the upper end of Fool River we landed the boat at the mouth of Roaring Bayou. We looked around for a place to make camp but didn't find a good place. It was not quite daylight. The morning star was just above the treetops but the red birds had not started calling. We decided we had time enough to hunt back down the other side of Fool River to Leading Bayou, which was about a mile.

Leading Bayou drains into Fool River on the north side of the basin. The Fool River Basin is a large, almost round lake like area that is very deep and is about a quarter of a mile wide. There was a nice camp ground at the mouth of Leading Bayou. When we reached the camp ground we spread our bed roll, put up the mosquito net, ate the small lunch Mother made for us and turned in for some much needed rest.

When I woke up that evening John A. was no where to be found. I looked around the camp ground but he was not there. I walked down to the river and found him getting water from a small spring. He said he thought it would be nice to have some cool water, I agreed. I was not only thirsty, I was starving. We decided it was late enough to cook supper. We build a big fire and put the frying pan on to heat. John A. sliced some dry salt meat and I stirred up some batter for some flap jacks. The frying pan was good and hot and I decided it was time to pour the batter in it. I poured in about a half cup of batter and the smoke boiled. I tried to turn the flap jack over with the flipper. Not only was the batter stuck, it was welded to the frying pan. I raked and scraped and stirred as fast as I could and soon I had the prettiest pan of scrambled flap jacks I had ever seen. Some of it was burned, some was raw. I raked it into a tin plate and looked at it. I tried to get John A. to taste it. He refused. I tried it and it tasted like burned rubber. I dumped it out and started over.

We knew we had to learn how to make flap jacks or we were going to get awfully hungry. Flap Jacks and ribbon cane syrup was going to be our staple food for the next six days. We decided the frying pan was too hot and that was what was causing the batter to stick so hard. Then I remembered that last year Oliver had put a small amount of lard in the frying pan before he put the batter in. We decided to try one. To our surprise it worked. By putting lard in the frying pan and cooking it slow we made a perfect flap jack, with a couple exceptions. First, the flour we had was not self rising and there was no salt in it. We had no baking powder to add to it but we did have salt. We made two large stacks of flap jacks, fried some dry salt meat and sat down to a meal, that to us, was fit for a king.

The second night was uneventful. We had a lot of deep water that slowed us down quite a lot. We saw a lot of wildlife and fish. We traveled at a steady pace. We took notice of the land marks and knew about where we were and how far we had to go at all times. When it got daylight we were at the military road at the mouth of Mack Bayou. We knew we were about one mile from where we were to meet Dad.

When we arrived at the Hunters Bend crossing Dad was not there. We cooked some more flap jacks and fried the last of our dry salt meat. We were finishing our breakfast when Dad arrived. We had expected him to bring some more groceries but he didn't. We told him about our flour being plain instead of self rising. He said he couldn't see where that would make too much difference.

Dad said he had planned the rest of our trip. He said we were to hunt all the way around Dishrume Bend the next night and he would meet us where the Sharkey Road hit the Tensas River and pick up the frogs. Then we would hunt to Dunlap the next night and Tendal the next night. We said he would pick up the frogs at Tendal. The next night we would hunt to Rafkin Mound then return to Tendal the seventh night.

We had about a hundred pounds of frogs. We loaded them on the truck and Dad left. After Dad left we loaded coffee and the only reason we even made any was that grown folks was supposed to drink coffee.

We had caught about seventy pounds of frogs hunting around Dishrume Bend. We loaded them on the truck and Dad left. We went back to the boat and started looking for a place to camp. We found a good place a couple hundred yards below the mouth of Alligator Bayou. We made some more flap jacks and poured syrup over them and ate breakfast. That evening we ate more flap jacks and syrup for supper.