Bawanna's Mule Story
- Thread starter Bawanna
- Start date
Bawanna
Moderator
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2012
- Messages
- 10,285
Mule stories, chapter 2.
Back in my vertical days we packed in from time to time Elk Hunting. We had a horse and two mules, both of course named Molly, not sure why 97 percent of the mules are named Molly but I think its true.
One was white and one was brown so we called em Molly W and Molly B.
We didn't ride em, just used them to carry camp stuff and meat if we got anything. We was bow hunting if that matters in the slightest to anybody at all.
Well I led Molly W all the time, she was a good mule, laziest mule I ever did see. She'd pack and keep up just fine, carry more than she had any business carrying.
But whenever we stopped she'd lay down, she'd eat the grass around her laying down. Funny as heck.
Well I capitalized on this here information and when it was getting onto looking for a place to camp time I'd let the other two fella's go ahead and pick the spot. When I seen them stop I'd right quick reach under and uncinch the girth strap.
We'd walk casual like into the new camp area and of course Molly W would just lay down. I didn't have to reach up or anything to unload, real convenient.
The others always kidded me that I should get a shallow bucket so she could drink without having to get up.
Kidders gonna kid ya know.
Back in my vertical days we packed in from time to time Elk Hunting. We had a horse and two mules, both of course named Molly, not sure why 97 percent of the mules are named Molly but I think its true.
One was white and one was brown so we called em Molly W and Molly B.
We didn't ride em, just used them to carry camp stuff and meat if we got anything. We was bow hunting if that matters in the slightest to anybody at all.
Well I led Molly W all the time, she was a good mule, laziest mule I ever did see. She'd pack and keep up just fine, carry more than she had any business carrying.
But whenever we stopped she'd lay down, she'd eat the grass around her laying down. Funny as heck.
Well I capitalized on this here information and when it was getting onto looking for a place to camp time I'd let the other two fella's go ahead and pick the spot. When I seen them stop I'd right quick reach under and uncinch the girth strap.
We'd walk casual like into the new camp area and of course Molly W would just lay down. I didn't have to reach up or anything to unload, real convenient.
The others always kidded me that I should get a shallow bucket so she could drink without having to get up.
Kidders gonna kid ya know.
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2014
- Messages
- 2,010
Mules is smart. They won't over eat or founder themselves eatin' on corn. They know when to stop doing something a horse wouldn't. Much more sure footed. They ride much better than horses, too. Had this big Jack down in Missouri when I was a kid. He was a mean. vicious ba*****, too. You walk out in the lot, you took someone with you walkin' shotgun. He'd ambush you, kick you, bite you, and chase you. Funny. His ears looked a lot like Angus Young's AC/DC illuminatin' devil's horns. He didn't respect no one except my Grandpa (with his monkey wrench persuader) and my old man (and his Model A tar' iron persuader). He was a brute, but a plow or harrow pullin' fool. Git'im hitched and he changed personalities right quick like.
One Sunday we was sittin' down to a chicken Sunday dinner and my littlest brother, John, was missin'. He was three. We went lookin' for him and Grandma saw him out in the lot. The heads of the family ran for their implements of mule torture and headed out that way. I was watchin' out the bedroom winder and John was standing between that Jack's two front legs and pattin' or battin'em with his hands. He was lookin' up at the Jack the whole time and the scion of Satan t'were lookin' back down at'im. John would take a step and the mule would take a step. The old man and Grandpa were screamin' their heads off to get John's attention and induce'im to get outta there. Next John was grabbin' that mule's tail and hangin' off it. The mule just stood there with his head turned around watchin' John and not ever twitchin' them ears of his. 'Bout that time Grandpa arrived in front of the mule and Dad was off to the side to grab John and exit stage left. The mule laid them ears back and looked at Grandpa with "Chinese eyes". Pure evil and hatred....and that was when he was smilin' at'cha.
Now most people knows that mules are known to kick. An understatement if ever they was one. But most don't realize mules can kick sideways, too. Lordy. The old man did and musta recalled that interesting factoid about the time he hit the side of the hen house. The mule's right leg never moved a muscle. Little Johnny just kept playin' with that ol' mule's tail. I watched it all, and Hell, he even smacked'im in the mule family jewels, too! Now Grandpa was about to send that Jack to mule Purgatorial Territory and swung back to hit'im with that monkey wrench when that mule swung'is head sideways and knocked Grandpa on his butt. John moved off to the right side and the mule stepped that way following'im. Then he'd move around front and clutch on'is legs and that mule'd just stood there watchin'im. The old man's head was laid open and the blood was runnin' pretty good. Dern it, but he were M-A-D. Grandpa had'is glasses sent over into the hog lot and he was on his hands an knees feelin' around for'em. John and that mule was oblivious to both of them. Well, I suspect Johnny were, but I know that mule knew exactly what was goin' on around him. Pretty soon my Mom come walkin' up to the mule and held out two biscuits. One for John and one for the mule and they both commenced to eatin'em. The old man was hollerin' "May Bell, you git outta there, blah, cuss, blah, cuss!". Ma reached into'er apron and pulled out two more biscuits, gave'em to the boys and turned around and walked back to the house. She hollered back to the old man and Grandpa to leave'em alone. That Jack wasn't goin' to hurt the kid. And he never did, either. But as for you, he'd ambush you, kick you, bite you, and chase you. Pure evil and hatred....and that was when he was smilin' at'cha.
One Sunday we was sittin' down to a chicken Sunday dinner and my littlest brother, John, was missin'. He was three. We went lookin' for him and Grandma saw him out in the lot. The heads of the family ran for their implements of mule torture and headed out that way. I was watchin' out the bedroom winder and John was standing between that Jack's two front legs and pattin' or battin'em with his hands. He was lookin' up at the Jack the whole time and the scion of Satan t'were lookin' back down at'im. John would take a step and the mule would take a step. The old man and Grandpa were screamin' their heads off to get John's attention and induce'im to get outta there. Next John was grabbin' that mule's tail and hangin' off it. The mule just stood there with his head turned around watchin' John and not ever twitchin' them ears of his. 'Bout that time Grandpa arrived in front of the mule and Dad was off to the side to grab John and exit stage left. The mule laid them ears back and looked at Grandpa with "Chinese eyes". Pure evil and hatred....and that was when he was smilin' at'cha.
Now most people knows that mules are known to kick. An understatement if ever they was one. But most don't realize mules can kick sideways, too. Lordy. The old man did and musta recalled that interesting factoid about the time he hit the side of the hen house. The mule's right leg never moved a muscle. Little Johnny just kept playin' with that ol' mule's tail. I watched it all, and Hell, he even smacked'im in the mule family jewels, too! Now Grandpa was about to send that Jack to mule Purgatorial Territory and swung back to hit'im with that monkey wrench when that mule swung'is head sideways and knocked Grandpa on his butt. John moved off to the right side and the mule stepped that way following'im. Then he'd move around front and clutch on'is legs and that mule'd just stood there watchin'im. The old man's head was laid open and the blood was runnin' pretty good. Dern it, but he were M-A-D. Grandpa had'is glasses sent over into the hog lot and he was on his hands an knees feelin' around for'em. John and that mule was oblivious to both of them. Well, I suspect Johnny were, but I know that mule knew exactly what was goin' on around him. Pretty soon my Mom come walkin' up to the mule and held out two biscuits. One for John and one for the mule and they both commenced to eatin'em. The old man was hollerin' "May Bell, you git outta there, blah, cuss, blah, cuss!". Ma reached into'er apron and pulled out two more biscuits, gave'em to the boys and turned around and walked back to the house. She hollered back to the old man and Grandpa to leave'em alone. That Jack wasn't goin' to hurt the kid. And he never did, either. But as for you, he'd ambush you, kick you, bite you, and chase you. Pure evil and hatred....and that was when he was smilin' at'cha.
Bawanna
Moderator
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2012
- Messages
- 10,285
I can solemnly attest to everything what the good doctor said. Them mules is smart.
Horses ain't stupid (well some are) but I've seen the same thing with kids. They be mean to an adult but real gentle with a kid.
We had a neighbor with a real nice horse and a daughter bout 2 or 3. He rode through our neighborhood all the time. He was walking with his daughter and leading the horse across the field and apparently the little girl tripped or fell or something and he didn't see it. The lead rope went tight sudden like and he turned to give the horse what for and saw that the horse's right fore leg was held up and right over the little girl. Couldn't take a step without stepping on her so he just stopped.
Good horse that one.
Horses ain't stupid (well some are) but I've seen the same thing with kids. They be mean to an adult but real gentle with a kid.
We had a neighbor with a real nice horse and a daughter bout 2 or 3. He rode through our neighborhood all the time. He was walking with his daughter and leading the horse across the field and apparently the little girl tripped or fell or something and he didn't see it. The lead rope went tight sudden like and he turned to give the horse what for and saw that the horse's right fore leg was held up and right over the little girl. Couldn't take a step without stepping on her so he just stopped.
Good horse that one.
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2014
- Messages
- 2,010
They come over the hill headin' fer our place. The team of two mules didn't have reins on'em and their skinner was layin' on his back on the flat bed wagon with his cap pulled over his face. We stood on the lower strand of bob war watchin'em approach. Each step was sure and precise. Each step exactly the same length as the previous one. When the team pulled abreast of us, we kids hopped down and ran down the hill to meet'em. We'd have a few hands full of fresh long grass ready for them when they got to the end of the cinder lane. They stopped so the side of the wagon was exactly centered on our side lane and as we gave the mules a snack, the skinner got up and loaded our two cans of milk aboard and then off they'd go. The driver layin' back down and not sayin' a word to the team. They had been doin' this fer over fifteen years now. Rain 'er shine, Monday through Saturday, they was there and like clock work.
Then in 1957 the milk company bought a fleet of new GMC dairy trucks and the mules was given to the skinner and he put them out to pasture. After all, they was best friends. The winter of '57 & '58 was a hard one. I remember it well. We didn't have a Christmas tree put up, too much snow built up down the hill an' across the valley to go search fer one. They weren't no Christmas presents either that was store bought. All our money was spent on coal to feed the pot belly stove in the front room. Come March the Chinook winds blew up from the South and the snow was meltin' fast. The branch was out of it's banks in short order and the valley flooded. Bad enough that the roads was completely under water from one to two foot deep. All us who lived around there had milk that wasn't gettin' to the dairy because the hated trucks didn't know how to swim. The water was gettin' deeper ever day and then on Wednesday, here they come. Over the hill. The team and their old driver was back on the job. They stopped at the center of the lane without being told to whoa. This went on for the rest of the next week and a half, wadin' through the water and bein' there at our place on time like clockwork. Then them trucks got to where they could start the milk run and that was the last we saw of Zeke and Louie. Wonderful memories they are, don't you think? Oh. I forgot. Zeke and Louie were blind for the last six years on the job and they remembered their milk route as it was just yesterday....and still without reins!
Then in 1957 the milk company bought a fleet of new GMC dairy trucks and the mules was given to the skinner and he put them out to pasture. After all, they was best friends. The winter of '57 & '58 was a hard one. I remember it well. We didn't have a Christmas tree put up, too much snow built up down the hill an' across the valley to go search fer one. They weren't no Christmas presents either that was store bought. All our money was spent on coal to feed the pot belly stove in the front room. Come March the Chinook winds blew up from the South and the snow was meltin' fast. The branch was out of it's banks in short order and the valley flooded. Bad enough that the roads was completely under water from one to two foot deep. All us who lived around there had milk that wasn't gettin' to the dairy because the hated trucks didn't know how to swim. The water was gettin' deeper ever day and then on Wednesday, here they come. Over the hill. The team and their old driver was back on the job. They stopped at the center of the lane without being told to whoa. This went on for the rest of the next week and a half, wadin' through the water and bein' there at our place on time like clockwork. Then them trucks got to where they could start the milk run and that was the last we saw of Zeke and Louie. Wonderful memories they are, don't you think? Oh. I forgot. Zeke and Louie were blind for the last six years on the job and they remembered their milk route as it was just yesterday....and still without reins!
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2014
- Messages
- 2,010
My Uncle Harvey come drivin' up the lane in his dump truck just afore dinner one day. At the time he had the largest dump truck in Missouri and used it for hauling coal from the mines around Kirksville. He had just brought a load of stoker coal to my Grandparents and dumped it in the coal stall in the barn. He come walkin' up to the house and was very somber. Poured himself a cuppa coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Grandma and Grandpa knew something was the matter, but didn't say nothing. By and by, Harvey started talkin' and cryin' at the same time. Said he was over to the Billy Creek Coal Mine there near Novinger pickin' up a load when the mine caved in. Said some of the guys were his friends and was hurt pretty bad. Took a while, but ever one made it out alive....all 'cept the two mules used for pulling the little coal cars. Said, they was too large to be pulled out through the small opening down to the tunnels. So they stayed down there in the dark.
The owner and many of the miners of the Billy Creek and some from the other mines close by started diggin' them two mules out. It was a no go after a while. The owner contracted some company to come and see what they could do to get the team out from down there. It was expensive, but they did what they could. Then the hole collapsed again. The miners went down and got a hole opened up to at least git the mules some air and eventually got it enlarged quite a bit more, but still not big enough to get the mules out. The owner of the mine never was able to reopen it. Went broke over it, but still felt responsibility towards them mules. He fed and watered them ever day and sometimes dropped them apples.
This went on day in and day out fer six years. He never took a day off in all that time and no one else filled in for him if he was sick. His wife passed away. He went to the Billy Creek and took care of his team. They was friends, you know. In that sixth year, he noticed that it was takin' longer fer the net used to drop hay to the mules to empty out. One of them had died. The owner still continued to do his duty and violently ignored suggestions to poison the hay and put the remaining mule outta it's misery. Everone said it had went blind by now. He kept up takin' as gooda care of that mule that he could. Then in the eleventh year the second mule died. The owner was devastated. He was cryin' when he dropped six sticks of dynamite down the hole and blew it closed, thus buryin' the two faithful mules together fer all time. Locals never mentioned the disaster again as ever one felt bad fer the team. Today, you can go down there to where the Billy Creek was, if you can find it, as there is no trace that it even existed any longer. But you look hard enough and close enough, you'll stumble across a tombstone layin' flat on the ground with the two mule's names on it and The Pride of the Billy Creek.
The owner and many of the miners of the Billy Creek and some from the other mines close by started diggin' them two mules out. It was a no go after a while. The owner contracted some company to come and see what they could do to get the team out from down there. It was expensive, but they did what they could. Then the hole collapsed again. The miners went down and got a hole opened up to at least git the mules some air and eventually got it enlarged quite a bit more, but still not big enough to get the mules out. The owner of the mine never was able to reopen it. Went broke over it, but still felt responsibility towards them mules. He fed and watered them ever day and sometimes dropped them apples.
This went on day in and day out fer six years. He never took a day off in all that time and no one else filled in for him if he was sick. His wife passed away. He went to the Billy Creek and took care of his team. They was friends, you know. In that sixth year, he noticed that it was takin' longer fer the net used to drop hay to the mules to empty out. One of them had died. The owner still continued to do his duty and violently ignored suggestions to poison the hay and put the remaining mule outta it's misery. Everone said it had went blind by now. He kept up takin' as gooda care of that mule that he could. Then in the eleventh year the second mule died. The owner was devastated. He was cryin' when he dropped six sticks of dynamite down the hole and blew it closed, thus buryin' the two faithful mules together fer all time. Locals never mentioned the disaster again as ever one felt bad fer the team. Today, you can go down there to where the Billy Creek was, if you can find it, as there is no trace that it even existed any longer. But you look hard enough and close enough, you'll stumble across a tombstone layin' flat on the ground with the two mule's names on it and The Pride of the Billy Creek.
MTURBO
BANNED
- Joined
- Nov 5, 2014
- Messages
- 8,054
These couple pages have been some great reading!
There is a mountain lion hunting guide out here that does lion hunts on horseback leading a team of mules loaded with all the camping gear,food and such. I seen him once leading a hunt into the Superstitions. It was amazing to see almost looked like I had gone back in time.
Anyway, thanks for the great read!:thumbup:
There is a mountain lion hunting guide out here that does lion hunts on horseback leading a team of mules loaded with all the camping gear,food and such. I seen him once leading a hunt into the Superstitions. It was amazing to see almost looked like I had gone back in time.
Anyway, thanks for the great read!:thumbup:
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2014
- Messages
- 2,010
The branch down below the house was out of it's banks again. It had been rainin' fer what seemed to us kids, forever. Cabin fever set in bad and I had to get out and do something. After all I was 7 years old now and men had to do things! I trudged through the lot over to the barn. The livestock was all inside or huddled together by the overhang tryin' to stay dry. I grabbed a rope halter and threw it over the little Jenny's head, climbed up on the feed bunk and then hopped on her back. She was surprised and then balky. She didn't want to go out into that rain. I kicked'er in the ribs with my bare heels and she moved out, through the gate, down the cinder lane, and onto the road. We was goin' to ride over to Harry Darr's place a mile over on the other hill.
The road East of the lane was under water but I kept to the middle of the rows of hedge limbs used as fence posts on each side of the gravel road. The water was roarin' a little bit, but that didn't bother me none. My worst worry was keepin' the rain from runnin' down into my eyes under the brim of my straw hat. The water was running over the plank bridge about 2 foot. The tops of the wrought iron rails stood out of the water about a foot to let me know where they was. The Jenny was walkin' real slow like as she did not want to be where she was and sure didn't want to go where I was takin' her. We got almost to the bridge and she flat out stopped and wouldn't budge. Wasn't hardly anything I could do to induce her to move forward. I grabbed a small tree branch floatin' by and proceed to use it as a quirt on'er hind quarters. She weren't havin' anything to do with that and started turnin' around. I kept the lead rope up tight and she kept turnin' in circles. My little feet was flailin' her ribs, her butt was gittin' smacked and she still weren't gonna cooperate none.
Well, she turned so many circles that we stepped off the road into the ditch. She had to immediately start swimmin' and I hunkered down low over'er neck. The fast movin' water carried us out into the crik proper and both of us was scaird. She swam down stream and tried to make a bank to climb us out of this mess. Things was lookin' pert bad cuz the branch run into a small river about a mile from the bridge and I could see it not too fer ahead. Bitsy finally managed to git to up the bank on the East side and we started breathin' a mite slower. She was heavin' pretty fast and since the water was only about a foot deep there, I hopped off and started leadin'er up the hill towards Darr's. Now Ol' Harry and 'is wife were watchin' the whole time and come out to meet us and git us inside. The mule went to the barn and was fed. I went to the house on put on a pair of bibs sized fer a man with a 32 inch waist. I reckon I was swimmin' again. Harry had been talkin' to my Grandma on the telephone. Phones in our neck of the woods was still hanging on the wall and cranks was used to operate the ringer. Ours was two longs and a short. My old man got on our '23 John Deere with steel wheels and had been comin' to get us. When he got to the bridge, he got off the tractor and grabbed a side rail on the bridge and proceed to step onto the bridge makin' sure the planks were still on the bridge. An' they weren't! He was hangin' onto that rail fer dear life, but he finally got purchase of the road way and got back up on the tractor and went back home. The Darr's put me up and I lived like a king fer two days. They'd lost their only son in the Korean War recently and I was fillin' in fer'im, I reckon.
After the water receded, I rode the little Jenny back to our place. The bridge was out, but she jumped the crik. They was glad to see me and the mule and I was shore glad to see them, too. I got off her and the old man proceeded to beat my butt fer bein' so dumb and I guess I had it comin'. The Jenny was Grandma's pet and she never allowed Grandpa or my old man to work'er in the fields since she had saved my life twice that day. Once at the bridge and then when we was doin' our best to be that Lloyd Bridges in his Sea Hunt TV show. That TV show got me, my cousin, and that mule into more trouble later on , but that's another story.
The road East of the lane was under water but I kept to the middle of the rows of hedge limbs used as fence posts on each side of the gravel road. The water was roarin' a little bit, but that didn't bother me none. My worst worry was keepin' the rain from runnin' down into my eyes under the brim of my straw hat. The water was running over the plank bridge about 2 foot. The tops of the wrought iron rails stood out of the water about a foot to let me know where they was. The Jenny was walkin' real slow like as she did not want to be where she was and sure didn't want to go where I was takin' her. We got almost to the bridge and she flat out stopped and wouldn't budge. Wasn't hardly anything I could do to induce her to move forward. I grabbed a small tree branch floatin' by and proceed to use it as a quirt on'er hind quarters. She weren't havin' anything to do with that and started turnin' around. I kept the lead rope up tight and she kept turnin' in circles. My little feet was flailin' her ribs, her butt was gittin' smacked and she still weren't gonna cooperate none.
Well, she turned so many circles that we stepped off the road into the ditch. She had to immediately start swimmin' and I hunkered down low over'er neck. The fast movin' water carried us out into the crik proper and both of us was scaird. She swam down stream and tried to make a bank to climb us out of this mess. Things was lookin' pert bad cuz the branch run into a small river about a mile from the bridge and I could see it not too fer ahead. Bitsy finally managed to git to up the bank on the East side and we started breathin' a mite slower. She was heavin' pretty fast and since the water was only about a foot deep there, I hopped off and started leadin'er up the hill towards Darr's. Now Ol' Harry and 'is wife were watchin' the whole time and come out to meet us and git us inside. The mule went to the barn and was fed. I went to the house on put on a pair of bibs sized fer a man with a 32 inch waist. I reckon I was swimmin' again. Harry had been talkin' to my Grandma on the telephone. Phones in our neck of the woods was still hanging on the wall and cranks was used to operate the ringer. Ours was two longs and a short. My old man got on our '23 John Deere with steel wheels and had been comin' to get us. When he got to the bridge, he got off the tractor and grabbed a side rail on the bridge and proceed to step onto the bridge makin' sure the planks were still on the bridge. An' they weren't! He was hangin' onto that rail fer dear life, but he finally got purchase of the road way and got back up on the tractor and went back home. The Darr's put me up and I lived like a king fer two days. They'd lost their only son in the Korean War recently and I was fillin' in fer'im, I reckon.
After the water receded, I rode the little Jenny back to our place. The bridge was out, but she jumped the crik. They was glad to see me and the mule and I was shore glad to see them, too. I got off her and the old man proceeded to beat my butt fer bein' so dumb and I guess I had it comin'. The Jenny was Grandma's pet and she never allowed Grandpa or my old man to work'er in the fields since she had saved my life twice that day. Once at the bridge and then when we was doin' our best to be that Lloyd Bridges in his Sea Hunt TV show. That TV show got me, my cousin, and that mule into more trouble later on , but that's another story.
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2014
- Messages
- 2,010
Is late one July afternoon when my aunt & uncle come drivin' their new '52 two-tone green, two-door Chevrolet with the see through sun visor drivin' up the cinder lane. Dale, a year younger'n me, was comin' to stay fer a week. I was a layin' on the little Jenny's back watchin' the clouds roll by when they arrived. The Jenny were in bliss cause I was diggin' inta'er back with my toes and she did like to be scratched. Purty soon Dale comes walkin' up through the stubble wantin' to know if I was goin' inna house to watch Sea Hunt. He jumped up on Bitsey and we took off like a shot fer the barn. We got worshed up and went inta the house and set down. Grandma come and turned the TV set on (us kids couldn't touch nothing on that marvelous piece of modern technology.) There he was! Our new found hero, Lloyd Bridges! He was a swimmin' with a mask an flippers in with them sharks an ever thing during that whole show! My, but we was impressed and wanted to grow up to be frogmen, too, just like him.
The next mornin' after breakfast, the two of us headed down to Grandpa's pond. He hand dug that rascal back in the 30's. Over the years, that red clay soil filled most of the pond back in to wheres it was only a couple of feet deep. We decided to go wadin' and started talkin' about what that Lloyd Bridges would say or do if he was down here to Grandpa's pond. While we was talkin' I felt something smooth under my foot. I reached down and pulled up a mussel. Now we didn't know it was a mussel, but we'd beena watchin' Sea Hunt and we knowed we had us one of them clams! We were pretty excited and one thing lead to another and by cracky, we had to have us a boat like on Sea Hunt....if we was gonna go into the clam business. We knew we'd make lots of money because we already knew ever thing about frog divin' like them scooba divers and frogmen.
Well....where to git us a boat? They weren't many around them parts of Missouri (that's pronounced Miz-zurah, boys.) so's we decided to make us one. It wasn't gonna take too long. We'd chop us down a hickory tree way South of the house and tie all the logs we got from it together to make us a raft. We's both well acquainted with Huckleberry Finn, you know. We run up to the barn and found us an ol' rusty naval boardin' ax. It had obviously been used afore because it was really rusty. It was even marked with the ship's name. SS Ark. We were pretty excited about all this adventure startin' up and the little Jenny mule had to come see what all the chatter was about. We got up on her and headed down the hill. Theys an old shack down there put up by somebody during the Depression and it was still standin' and that's about where the hickory trees was. Long about dinner time the tree fell over and we proceeded to cut it to 3 foot lengths. Wound up with four of'em and that would make us a nice raft. Time to git'em to the pond. We heaved. We shoved. We rolled them logs up that hill and then across the dam. Whew! Was we tarred. Hoo, boy! Now let's go git the other three. We started back down the hill when we heard Grandma holler fer us to come fer supper. Hey! It was gittin' a little dark by now. Oh well. It's like they say: Time goes fast when yer havin' fun. Yes, indeedy.
After supper and all that night we planned for tomorry. Come sun up we lit out tellin' Grandma we didn't want no breakfast this mornin' and run out the door. When we got to the barn, I threw a old rope halter on Bitsey and Dale scrounged up some lengths of old hemp rope. Down the hill we went. Dern! We was sure smart. This Sea Hunt frog divin' stuff was a piece of cake. We tied the rope on Bitsey and then on to a log and up the hill we went. That rope sure was old cause about ever 50-60 foot or so, it'd break and we'd have to fix it. Bitsey was gitti'n a little miffed at us about then and started doin' her "poor me, poor put upon Bitsey" routine. Dale'd crack'er on the butt with a stick and then she'd take off runnin' and leavin' us behind. Got'em up there onna dam, though.
Now that rotten rope was all used up and they wasn't enough to tie our logs together to make that raft. No problem for us child geniuses, you know. Dale went and stole a pair of war cutters off the old tractor and we proceeded to borry a short length of war from the fence between our livestock lot and the field where old man Jackson kept his bulls for breedin'. Got them logs together all right and we shoved that raft off inta the pond. We started frog divin' right off and found a whole passel of them clams and had a big old pile on that raft. Then Dale hollers "I got a big one and it's movin' on me!" Then it was "Stevie, go git that ax!"..."and hurry!" Guys, I jumped on that mule like I was Johnny Mac Brown at the matinee on Saturday. I spurred'er with my bare feet and took off like a Rocket 88! Thundered down the front of the dam. Down one of the cattle trails and across the marsh on the side of the hill. Finally we pulled up by the old shack and then I realized Dale had took the ax back to the barn. "Heeyah, Bitsey!" The Cisco Kid rides agin and we thunder'd back up the hill. Bitsey was all lathered up as we trotted through the gate. I slid off, grabbed that ax, and got back up in the saddle. "We's off! Heeyah!!" Oh man. Ginrel Custer'd be proud of me today. "Heeyah, gal! C'mon!" We got to the dam and I slid back off watchin' Dale struggle with one of them giant clams. Had to be almost as big as them clams we seen in that Johnny Wisemuller Tarzan film where a giant clam was eatin' some frog diver's leg off. Had a big pearl in it, too. Dale was a thrashin' around and really strugglin' with that monster and was a yellin' "chop that sonovabitch!" Shore glad Grandma weren't around! Said "I cain't you got yer hands on'im!" Well, he struggled and finally got'im throwed up onna raft. Dern! That was sure a big snappin' turtle! And boy, oh boy, was he mad! He opened them jaws and I thought "Oh. Gimmee one of them giant clams any day!" and he took a lunge with that big head at Dale as I swung that old ax. Crap! The ax hit'im in the head alright but it also cut the bob war a holdin' them logs together, too. The raft was fallin' apart. Dale was yellin' at me fer being stupid again. The clams was fallin' back inta the pond. The snapper was a bleedin' and tryin'ta git away. Bitsey waded inta the pond and come stuck'er nose in the pile of clams I was tryin' to save. Dale throwed that turtle on the dam. We lost all them clams and the turtle was a crawlin' off. So much fer frog divin'.
I got out of the pond and really axed that old turtle. Dale was mad and told me to go git anuther piece of bob war so's we could fix our boat, so's I did. Bitsey decided she liked that pond and started rollin' in it, the red clay mud stickin' all over'er, too. Well, I got us another piece of war and we got our raft back together. Good thing, too cause Grandma was hollerin' fer us to come to supper. We trudged back to the house to git worshed back up. We was pretty muddy and pretty tarred by then. Went to bed early.
Next mornin' we was sittin' at the table eatin' our mush when Grandpa come in. "Boys, what in the Sam Hill you do with yer Grandma's mule? She looks like hell. Wasn't in the barn last night at all. I found her down towards the old shack this mornin'" I dunno, Grandpa we chimed. "Boy's where'd that big snappin' turtle come from?" I dunno Grandpa...."Boys, can you tell me how Jackson's bulls got in the pond this mornin? and why is there a raft on that pond?" We knowed the jig was up fer sometime now, so's I stood up and said "Grandpa, it tw'ere like this...." and I spilled my guts. Yep. We worshed Bitsey off and brushed her tail and mane. Our frog divin' ship was pulled outta the pond and throwed over the bank. The bob war was rolled up and throwed into the trash dump. Grandpa had to fix the fence, but we heard'im on the telephone with old man Jackson a tellin' im that his bulls had busted the fence, but he was gittin' it fixed now and not to let it happen again. Grandpa had found the turtle still a hangin' on, so he butchered it and that's what we had fer supper. As fer me and Dale, well, when Sea Hunt come on again, we had decided Old Lloyd could just do all the frog divin' he wanted and we was was busy playin' Lone Ranger. It wasn't so hard of work, just shootin' bad guys with silver bullets. And Bitsey? She figured it was her place in life to be one of them Miz Missouri bathing beauties and so hung out down to the pond for years afterwards.
The next mornin' after breakfast, the two of us headed down to Grandpa's pond. He hand dug that rascal back in the 30's. Over the years, that red clay soil filled most of the pond back in to wheres it was only a couple of feet deep. We decided to go wadin' and started talkin' about what that Lloyd Bridges would say or do if he was down here to Grandpa's pond. While we was talkin' I felt something smooth under my foot. I reached down and pulled up a mussel. Now we didn't know it was a mussel, but we'd beena watchin' Sea Hunt and we knowed we had us one of them clams! We were pretty excited and one thing lead to another and by cracky, we had to have us a boat like on Sea Hunt....if we was gonna go into the clam business. We knew we'd make lots of money because we already knew ever thing about frog divin' like them scooba divers and frogmen.
Well....where to git us a boat? They weren't many around them parts of Missouri (that's pronounced Miz-zurah, boys.) so's we decided to make us one. It wasn't gonna take too long. We'd chop us down a hickory tree way South of the house and tie all the logs we got from it together to make us a raft. We's both well acquainted with Huckleberry Finn, you know. We run up to the barn and found us an ol' rusty naval boardin' ax. It had obviously been used afore because it was really rusty. It was even marked with the ship's name. SS Ark. We were pretty excited about all this adventure startin' up and the little Jenny mule had to come see what all the chatter was about. We got up on her and headed down the hill. Theys an old shack down there put up by somebody during the Depression and it was still standin' and that's about where the hickory trees was. Long about dinner time the tree fell over and we proceeded to cut it to 3 foot lengths. Wound up with four of'em and that would make us a nice raft. Time to git'em to the pond. We heaved. We shoved. We rolled them logs up that hill and then across the dam. Whew! Was we tarred. Hoo, boy! Now let's go git the other three. We started back down the hill when we heard Grandma holler fer us to come fer supper. Hey! It was gittin' a little dark by now. Oh well. It's like they say: Time goes fast when yer havin' fun. Yes, indeedy.
After supper and all that night we planned for tomorry. Come sun up we lit out tellin' Grandma we didn't want no breakfast this mornin' and run out the door. When we got to the barn, I threw a old rope halter on Bitsey and Dale scrounged up some lengths of old hemp rope. Down the hill we went. Dern! We was sure smart. This Sea Hunt frog divin' stuff was a piece of cake. We tied the rope on Bitsey and then on to a log and up the hill we went. That rope sure was old cause about ever 50-60 foot or so, it'd break and we'd have to fix it. Bitsey was gitti'n a little miffed at us about then and started doin' her "poor me, poor put upon Bitsey" routine. Dale'd crack'er on the butt with a stick and then she'd take off runnin' and leavin' us behind. Got'em up there onna dam, though.
Now that rotten rope was all used up and they wasn't enough to tie our logs together to make that raft. No problem for us child geniuses, you know. Dale went and stole a pair of war cutters off the old tractor and we proceeded to borry a short length of war from the fence between our livestock lot and the field where old man Jackson kept his bulls for breedin'. Got them logs together all right and we shoved that raft off inta the pond. We started frog divin' right off and found a whole passel of them clams and had a big old pile on that raft. Then Dale hollers "I got a big one and it's movin' on me!" Then it was "Stevie, go git that ax!"..."and hurry!" Guys, I jumped on that mule like I was Johnny Mac Brown at the matinee on Saturday. I spurred'er with my bare feet and took off like a Rocket 88! Thundered down the front of the dam. Down one of the cattle trails and across the marsh on the side of the hill. Finally we pulled up by the old shack and then I realized Dale had took the ax back to the barn. "Heeyah, Bitsey!" The Cisco Kid rides agin and we thunder'd back up the hill. Bitsey was all lathered up as we trotted through the gate. I slid off, grabbed that ax, and got back up in the saddle. "We's off! Heeyah!!" Oh man. Ginrel Custer'd be proud of me today. "Heeyah, gal! C'mon!" We got to the dam and I slid back off watchin' Dale struggle with one of them giant clams. Had to be almost as big as them clams we seen in that Johnny Wisemuller Tarzan film where a giant clam was eatin' some frog diver's leg off. Had a big pearl in it, too. Dale was a thrashin' around and really strugglin' with that monster and was a yellin' "chop that sonovabitch!" Shore glad Grandma weren't around! Said "I cain't you got yer hands on'im!" Well, he struggled and finally got'im throwed up onna raft. Dern! That was sure a big snappin' turtle! And boy, oh boy, was he mad! He opened them jaws and I thought "Oh. Gimmee one of them giant clams any day!" and he took a lunge with that big head at Dale as I swung that old ax. Crap! The ax hit'im in the head alright but it also cut the bob war a holdin' them logs together, too. The raft was fallin' apart. Dale was yellin' at me fer being stupid again. The clams was fallin' back inta the pond. The snapper was a bleedin' and tryin'ta git away. Bitsey waded inta the pond and come stuck'er nose in the pile of clams I was tryin' to save. Dale throwed that turtle on the dam. We lost all them clams and the turtle was a crawlin' off. So much fer frog divin'.
I got out of the pond and really axed that old turtle. Dale was mad and told me to go git anuther piece of bob war so's we could fix our boat, so's I did. Bitsey decided she liked that pond and started rollin' in it, the red clay mud stickin' all over'er, too. Well, I got us another piece of war and we got our raft back together. Good thing, too cause Grandma was hollerin' fer us to come to supper. We trudged back to the house to git worshed back up. We was pretty muddy and pretty tarred by then. Went to bed early.
Next mornin' we was sittin' at the table eatin' our mush when Grandpa come in. "Boys, what in the Sam Hill you do with yer Grandma's mule? She looks like hell. Wasn't in the barn last night at all. I found her down towards the old shack this mornin'" I dunno, Grandpa we chimed. "Boy's where'd that big snappin' turtle come from?" I dunno Grandpa...."Boys, can you tell me how Jackson's bulls got in the pond this mornin? and why is there a raft on that pond?" We knowed the jig was up fer sometime now, so's I stood up and said "Grandpa, it tw'ere like this...." and I spilled my guts. Yep. We worshed Bitsey off and brushed her tail and mane. Our frog divin' ship was pulled outta the pond and throwed over the bank. The bob war was rolled up and throwed into the trash dump. Grandpa had to fix the fence, but we heard'im on the telephone with old man Jackson a tellin' im that his bulls had busted the fence, but he was gittin' it fixed now and not to let it happen again. Grandpa had found the turtle still a hangin' on, so he butchered it and that's what we had fer supper. As fer me and Dale, well, when Sea Hunt come on again, we had decided Old Lloyd could just do all the frog divin' he wanted and we was was busy playin' Lone Ranger. It wasn't so hard of work, just shootin' bad guys with silver bullets. And Bitsey? She figured it was her place in life to be one of them Miz Missouri bathing beauties and so hung out down to the pond for years afterwards.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2014
- Messages
- 2,010
Issam Cupples. Tall and unGodly skinny. Had'im a place down cross the Arkansas line. Issam spoke soft and real slow. He weren't dumb, he was just polite and respecful. We decided to go fishin' in Issam's old man's pond. Musta been a hunnerd foot across. Dale and I stripped down to our shorts and had our feet inna water while we was fishin'. Issam had brought some lunch along, mostly a couple of jars of cold coffee. Him and Dale was tryin' too hard to grow up and just had to have "their coffee". Now I freely admit that coffee sure smells good first thing inna mornin', but as fer taste, why anybody who'd drink coffee'ud eat mud pies. Yessir! I went to fishin' and shakin' my head at these two "a-dults".
Now long about 2 o'clock, fish wasn't bitin' and Issam says "Hell with this. Let's us go swimmin." and inta the water we went. We'd been horsein' around fer about an hour when Issam says"You guys wanna use the divin' board?" Dale and I looked at each other and then to Issam. He says "It's here. We just gotta git it outta the water a little bit." Cain't we pull'er up?" asks Dale and Issam shakes his head no, real slow like. "Fellers, she's real heavy and I cain't do it myself. Dad and Uncle Mose hasta use the team ta git'er up any." Well, I looked to Dale and Dale looked back at me and we was thinkin' the same thing--let's go git our mules!
Off we went and Issam brung some rope down to the pond, slipped inta the water and swam over about to the middle of the pond. He ducked under the water fer a while and when he come back up he swum back over to us. "Hitch'em up." was all he said. I had the two mules hitched in tandem and shouted the commands. They dug their hooves inta the dirt and started strainin' the rope. Now that rope was a stout one. Had to be an inch and a halfer! The mules wasn't cuttin' it so Issam went and brought his Lulu down to the pond and hitched her to the lead. He smacked'er on the butt and they pulled. They were gruntin' and blowin' something fierce. I didn't know just how big this divin' board was, but I sure was gittin' suspicious. Figured it weren't no joke cause Issam was drivin' his own mule and hard, too.
Pretty soon, they got a step in and then a couple of more. We evidently got what ever we was liftin' broke loose from all the muck in the pond. The mules got two more steps in when Issam told'em to "Whoa, mule!" We turned around to see what we brung up, but all that was showing was a round, pale green ball. Dale spoke first "What is that thing? Don't look like no divin' board I ever seen." "Me neither." was my entire contribution to this conversation. Issam unhitched the mules and turned'em loose to graze. He then walked over to the fence and tied what ever treasure we had brought up to that post.
"You know fellers, I ain't never seen the entire thing cause it's so heavy, but I believe Grandpa when he tells the story about his Daddy bringing it home and rollin' it inta the pond. Says he was just a real little tyke back then. Yep. You wanna go divin' now?" We reckoned we did and we all swam out there to that light green ball. Issam said only one of us could climb up on the divin' board at a time and so we dove and swam that way for the rest of the day. Later we hitched up the mules and rode'em up to Cupple's little cabin jacked up on piles of rocks. Issam's Dad was in the porch swing when we got there and Issam asked his Dad to say what he knew about the divin' board. And this was ol' one-eyed Rufe's story. "Now my Daddy was a younker way back then. This was the time when things was real hard around these parts. No one trusted no one and the damn carpetbaggers follied the Yankee army right on they's heels. Now My Daddy had been a waitin' on his Daddy. Hadn't seed him fer two years or so, you know. His Daddy went off with Captain Bledslowe's battery of Arkansas artillery late in that war and was due home any time then. The war had come to an end. Our boys'uz bringin' what ever they had back to home because they knew ever one was doin' poorly. Now Daddy's Daddy come home with 5-6 other boys and they brought this big ol' 12 pounder English cannon home all the way past Eureka Springs without the Federals gitin'em. They took it to the pond and sunk it so's to keep it out of Yankee hands. Hell, boys. You never knew back then. We'da mighta needed that ol' cannon agin some day. You never know."
Yes. That cannon is still in what used to be Issam Cupple's pond to this day. His old home place is now under new management since they all moved up here to Corn Patch and them new owners from over to Indiana don't go fishin'. And the neighbors? Everone knows you cain't trust a Yankee.
Now long about 2 o'clock, fish wasn't bitin' and Issam says "Hell with this. Let's us go swimmin." and inta the water we went. We'd been horsein' around fer about an hour when Issam says"You guys wanna use the divin' board?" Dale and I looked at each other and then to Issam. He says "It's here. We just gotta git it outta the water a little bit." Cain't we pull'er up?" asks Dale and Issam shakes his head no, real slow like. "Fellers, she's real heavy and I cain't do it myself. Dad and Uncle Mose hasta use the team ta git'er up any." Well, I looked to Dale and Dale looked back at me and we was thinkin' the same thing--let's go git our mules!
Off we went and Issam brung some rope down to the pond, slipped inta the water and swam over about to the middle of the pond. He ducked under the water fer a while and when he come back up he swum back over to us. "Hitch'em up." was all he said. I had the two mules hitched in tandem and shouted the commands. They dug their hooves inta the dirt and started strainin' the rope. Now that rope was a stout one. Had to be an inch and a halfer! The mules wasn't cuttin' it so Issam went and brought his Lulu down to the pond and hitched her to the lead. He smacked'er on the butt and they pulled. They were gruntin' and blowin' something fierce. I didn't know just how big this divin' board was, but I sure was gittin' suspicious. Figured it weren't no joke cause Issam was drivin' his own mule and hard, too.
Pretty soon, they got a step in and then a couple of more. We evidently got what ever we was liftin' broke loose from all the muck in the pond. The mules got two more steps in when Issam told'em to "Whoa, mule!" We turned around to see what we brung up, but all that was showing was a round, pale green ball. Dale spoke first "What is that thing? Don't look like no divin' board I ever seen." "Me neither." was my entire contribution to this conversation. Issam unhitched the mules and turned'em loose to graze. He then walked over to the fence and tied what ever treasure we had brought up to that post.
"You know fellers, I ain't never seen the entire thing cause it's so heavy, but I believe Grandpa when he tells the story about his Daddy bringing it home and rollin' it inta the pond. Says he was just a real little tyke back then. Yep. You wanna go divin' now?" We reckoned we did and we all swam out there to that light green ball. Issam said only one of us could climb up on the divin' board at a time and so we dove and swam that way for the rest of the day. Later we hitched up the mules and rode'em up to Cupple's little cabin jacked up on piles of rocks. Issam's Dad was in the porch swing when we got there and Issam asked his Dad to say what he knew about the divin' board. And this was ol' one-eyed Rufe's story. "Now my Daddy was a younker way back then. This was the time when things was real hard around these parts. No one trusted no one and the damn carpetbaggers follied the Yankee army right on they's heels. Now My Daddy had been a waitin' on his Daddy. Hadn't seed him fer two years or so, you know. His Daddy went off with Captain Bledslowe's battery of Arkansas artillery late in that war and was due home any time then. The war had come to an end. Our boys'uz bringin' what ever they had back to home because they knew ever one was doin' poorly. Now Daddy's Daddy come home with 5-6 other boys and they brought this big ol' 12 pounder English cannon home all the way past Eureka Springs without the Federals gitin'em. They took it to the pond and sunk it so's to keep it out of Yankee hands. Hell, boys. You never knew back then. We'da mighta needed that ol' cannon agin some day. You never know."
Yes. That cannon is still in what used to be Issam Cupple's pond to this day. His old home place is now under new management since they all moved up here to Corn Patch and them new owners from over to Indiana don't go fishin'. And the neighbors? Everone knows you cain't trust a Yankee.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Aug 17, 2003
- Messages
- 3,407
my dad got transferred to long island when i was a teen ager. we got a house on a lake. the lake had bluegills, giant eels, brown trout, and we could see just on the edge of vision in the depths long slender shapes about three feet long. the lake had been part of a large mansion's property, which when we moved there had been derelict for years. looked like the addam family's house. skeery. eventually confiscated for back taxes. lake was fed by a stream in our back yard, far end, 'bout a quarter mile, had a spillway into another smaller lake that in tirn connected to long island sound.
anyhow, me and my friends were also enamoured of sea hunt. we did not care much for swimmin' in the lake tho after an experience. we knew there was lake monsters in there. we cawt one.
the lake had ducks (& swans) when the ducks had ducklings, they'd follow their moms in a line. occasionally when they swam thru a shallow area with lilly ponds, there would be a 'BLOOP' and a duckling would disappear. anyway, we decided that we'd go spear fishin' one day, we scrounged up a length ol' aluminum conduit and a hunk of steel, ground a point & barb on it and hammered it into the conduit.
we wuz gonna spear one of them lake trout that were eatin' the ducks. never did get one tho. hit somethin' hard. somethin about three feet across. weighed a ton ('probably about a hunnert pounds really) the three of us finally managed to pull it out of the lake. it was a giant humongous snappin turtle. we'd hit a soft spot in it's shell. surprising how far back it could reach tryin to bite us. it finally became an ex-turtle. we threw it in the woods nearby. the ducks managed to not lose any more ducklings thereafter. and we never swam in the lake again.
the mansion was tore down, they built the new high school where it was, taking away part of our mystery. dracula's castle was no more. no more guard chasin' us if we set foot near it. no more fun.
we got aholt of a chunk of three in sch. 80 pipe, with a cap welded on one end. drilled a hole near it. our friend frank's dad's pool balls just fit. broke the ends off a zillion wooden matches for gunpowder. used a longish hunk of model rocket fuse from the local hobby store in the next town, fired that pool ball right over the lake from his house to the high school construction (when nobody was there after work). we did that till we ran out of pool balls. my friend frank got holy heck from his dad for that & couldn't sit down for a week. i'm surprised in hind sight the durn thing didn't blow up. frank went on to join the army, got assigned to a special unit that went into the jungle near cambodia to assasinate VC ossifers (he was a lurp - lrrp: long range reconnaissance patrol ). he come back a bit nervous after that. i saw him with some of my friends a few times while i was on leave, we learned not to walk up behind him without warning. he never talked about it.
anyhow, me and my friends were also enamoured of sea hunt. we did not care much for swimmin' in the lake tho after an experience. we knew there was lake monsters in there. we cawt one.
the lake had ducks (& swans) when the ducks had ducklings, they'd follow their moms in a line. occasionally when they swam thru a shallow area with lilly ponds, there would be a 'BLOOP' and a duckling would disappear. anyway, we decided that we'd go spear fishin' one day, we scrounged up a length ol' aluminum conduit and a hunk of steel, ground a point & barb on it and hammered it into the conduit.
we wuz gonna spear one of them lake trout that were eatin' the ducks. never did get one tho. hit somethin' hard. somethin about three feet across. weighed a ton ('probably about a hunnert pounds really) the three of us finally managed to pull it out of the lake. it was a giant humongous snappin turtle. we'd hit a soft spot in it's shell. surprising how far back it could reach tryin to bite us. it finally became an ex-turtle. we threw it in the woods nearby. the ducks managed to not lose any more ducklings thereafter. and we never swam in the lake again.
the mansion was tore down, they built the new high school where it was, taking away part of our mystery. dracula's castle was no more. no more guard chasin' us if we set foot near it. no more fun.
we got aholt of a chunk of three in sch. 80 pipe, with a cap welded on one end. drilled a hole near it. our friend frank's dad's pool balls just fit. broke the ends off a zillion wooden matches for gunpowder. used a longish hunk of model rocket fuse from the local hobby store in the next town, fired that pool ball right over the lake from his house to the high school construction (when nobody was there after work). we did that till we ran out of pool balls. my friend frank got holy heck from his dad for that & couldn't sit down for a week. i'm surprised in hind sight the durn thing didn't blow up. frank went on to join the army, got assigned to a special unit that went into the jungle near cambodia to assasinate VC ossifers (he was a lurp - lrrp: long range reconnaissance patrol ). he come back a bit nervous after that. i saw him with some of my friends a few times while i was on leave, we learned not to walk up behind him without warning. he never talked about it.
Last edited: