Up Cutshin and down Greasy by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University Press of Kentucky
Published: 2021-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 5

DAVE AND JIM, THEIR FOLKWAYS

“ONCET my grandfather was a-thrashing wheat in the cove,” Dave began when I started the recorder for a session of pioneer legends, “and he heared a hog squealing ’way up towards the top of the hill under a clift. He was thrashing that wheat with a big frailpole, what they allas used for it. He just laid his pole on his shoulder and broke in a run up the side of the mountain to find out what was wrong with his hog. Got up there, and they was a bear had it hugged right up in its arms a-gnawing it in the top of the head. He lit in on that bear with his frailpole, and he beat that bear to death before it would turn the hog loose. He took the bear in and skinned him and had him a good warm bearhide and some meat.

“He went again into the woods, him and his boys, and they holded a bear in the holler of an old chestnut tree. They was a hole went in just above the top of the ground, and the bear went in there. The dogs pushed right on in on it, and they fit the bear till they finally killed it. It had hurt a dog so bad they had to go on and leave the dog there. So they skinned the bear and took the hide and all the meat they could carry and went on.

“It got late on ’em, and they decided to lay out under a clift that night. They had ’em some of that bear meat br’iled for supper, and then they laid down. In that day and time the painters [panthers] were so thick you couldn’t hardly do nothing like handle fresh meat in the hills for ’em; they would come to you and try to take it. A whole gang of them painters surrounded that clift that night, coming up, trying to get at that bear meat. Grandpa said he’d throw great chunks of far at them painters and scatter ’em off down the hill. They [Dave often pronounced they with a long e] had to fight them painters all night to keep ’em from coming in and taking their bear meat and maybe hurting somebody. Fit ’em off with far chunks.

“An old bear got to using around clost to my grandpa’s house one time. He had some bee gums, and they would try to tear into them and rob ’em. Well, he thought he’d set a trap for that old bear. He got a trough and took him out about a half a gallon of honey from a gum and got about a quart of moonshine whisky. He mixed the two up and poured it all into that trough. Went out there next morning and saw he had that old bear. There he was—laying drunk. He was just laying there flat on his back playing with his feet. Grandpa shot his brains out and got him another pile of meat and a good bearhide.

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