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The Long Hillside A Christmas Hare-Hunt In Old Virginia 1908 By: Thomas Nelson Page (1853-1922) |
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A CHRISTMAS HARE HUNT IN OLD VIRGINIA By Thomas Nelson Page Charles Scribner's Sons New York, 1908 Copyright, 1891, 1904, 1906
I There do not seem to be as many hares now as there used to be when I was
a boy. Then the "old fields" and branch bottoms used to be full of them.
They were peculiarly our game; I mean we used to consider that they
belonged to us boys. They were rather scorned by the "gentlemen," by
which was meant the grown up gentlemen, who shot partridges over the
pointers, and only picked up a hare when she got in their way. And the
negroes used to catch them in traps or "gums," which were traps made of
hollow gum tree logs. But we boys were the hare hunters. They were our
property from our childhood; just as much, we considered, as "Bruno" and
"Don," the beautiful "crack" pointers, with their brown eyes and satiny
ears and coats, were "the gentlemen's." The negroes used to set traps all the Fall and Winter, and we, with the
natural tendency of boys to imitate whatever is wild and primitive, used
to set traps also. To tell the truth, however, the hares appeared to
have a way of going into the negroes' traps, rather than into ours, and
the former caught many to our one. Even now, after many years, I can remember the delight of the frosty
mornings; the joy with which we used to peep through the little panes
of the dormer windows at the white frost over the fields, which promised
stronger chances of game being caught; the eagerness with which,
oblivious of the cold, we sped through the garden, across the field,
along the ditch banks, and up by the woods, making the round of our
traps; the expectancy with which we peeped over the whitened weeds and
through the bushes, to catch a glimpse of the gums in some "parf" or
at some clearly marked "gap"; our disappointment when we found the door
standing open and the trigger set just as we had left it the mormng
before; our keen delight when the door was down; the dash for the trap;
the scuffle to decide which should look in first; the peep at the brown
ball screwed up back at the far end; the delicate operation, of getting
the hare out of the trap; and the triumphant return home, holding up our
spoil to be seen from afar. We were happier than we knew. So far to show how we came to regard hares as our natural game, and how,
though to be bird hunters we had to grow up, we were hare hunters as
boys. The rush, the cheers, the yells, the excitement were a part of the
sport, to us boys the best part. Of course, to hunt hares we had to have dogs at least boys must
have the noise, the dash, the chase are half the battle. And such dogs as ours were! It was not allowable to take bird dogs after hares. I say it was not
allowable; I do not say it was not done, for sometimes, of course,
the pointers would come, and we could not make them go back. But
the hare dogs were the puppies and curs, terriers, watch dogs, and the
nondescript crew which belonged to the negroes, and to the plantation
generally. What a pack they were! Thin, undersized black and tans, or spotted
beasts of doubtful breed, called "houn's" by courtesy; long legged,
sleepy watch dogs from the "quarters," brindled or "yaller" mongrels,
which even courtesy could not term other than "kyur dogs"; sharp voiced
"fises," busier than bees, hunting like fury, as if they expected to
find rats in every tuft of grass; and, when the hares got up, bouncing
and bobbing along, not much bigger than the "molly cottontails" they
were after, getting in everyone's way and receiving sticks and stones
in profusion, but with their spirits unbroken. And all these were in one
incongruous pack, growling, running, barking, ready to steal, fight, or
hunt, whichever it happened to be. We used to have hunts on Saturdays, just we boys, with perhaps a black
boy or two of our particular cronies; but the great hunt was "in the
holidays" that is, about Christmas. Then all the young darkies about
the place were free and ready for sport... Continue reading book >>
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