The seven members of the Moon Holler Misfits Fishing & Hunting Club were huddled around the table in the back of Ollie’s general store discussing their plans for an upcoming outing. Steve lamented the fact that all the group ever did was fish. “I want to do something different. How bout we go coon huntin?”
Le Ford, being a coon hunter, of some renown, jumped on the idea like a chicken on a June bug. The rest of the gang weren’t too impressed until Le Ford said they could make an all night deal out of it and after the hunt could have a few beers, and sack out at the A-frame cabin at his place, since that’s where they would be hunting.
They liked the idea even better when Le Ford said he had plenty of Shiner Bock in the fridge. Steve was especially pleased for he had recently gotten a job as assistant manager at the local Walmart Store and was making good enough money to pay for day care for the twins and had shed his title of “Stay-at-Home Dad. Steve was ready for some “outdoor action.” He’d just bought a used 4-wheel drive Ford Excursion, from Jim Wetland, the local Ford dealer and fellow member of the club. Jim made him a deal that he couldn’t refuse. “Hey, we can all ride out to Le Ford’s place in my Excursion”, Steve said proudly. Well, folks, the next twenty-four hours would be worthy of submitting to Ripley’s Believe It Or Not!
They planned the “hunt” for Saturday night since no one had any pressing matters the next day, except to be home in time for church, so they were looking forward to some relaxation, sitting under the trees and listening to the hounds as they scented, chased and treed a coon. When the hounds treed they’d all make their way to the tree and one of them would climb up and shake the coon out of the tree.
You don’t start early for coon hunting, so they planned for Steve to pick them up around nine o’clock that night. Le Ford allowed that he’d take his pick up truck, cause he had to haul the dog trailer. With that understanding, they agreed to meet Le Ford at the gate to his place at nine-thirty.
As Le Ford backed the trailer up to the hounds pen, they got super excited, for they knew what was coming – a romp in the woods. It had been several weeks since they’d been on a hunt and getting them into the trailer was a snap. Betty Earline, Le Ford’s wife had packed a bunch of baloney sandwiches for a mid-night snack for them and wished Le Ford a successful hunt, saying, “see you in time for church?’ Then, no more than a quarter-mile from the gate to his place, Le Ford had a flat tire on the dog trailer. He had a spare, but it was flat too, so the only thing to do was run up the road a little ways and holler for Steve, who was at the gate waiting on Le Ford to let him in. Steve and the rest of the gang heard Le Ford hollering and backed out of the drive and started towards him. Le Ford told them what had happened, but Steve said, “Not to worry, Le Ford, we’ll just go back and load the hounds in the back of this “big ole Excursion.” Boy, Steve was proud of that thang!
Now folks, let me tell you something about the American Coon Hound. He ain’t the easiest dog to “house break”. He’s gotta mind of his own, and when he’s gotta go, he goes!
When they reached the trailer, Sheriff Thaddeus N. Throckmorton and his deputy Willard La Fourche, Moon Holler’s token Cajun, had stopped and were shining their lights into Le Ford’s pick up and the dog trailer. Le Ford jumped out and told TNT, that’s what everyone called Thaddeus, what had happened and did he recon his pick up and trailer’d be ok to leave while they hunted.
TNT smiled and said they’d do better than that, they’d be glad to take the tires to the sheriff’s office and air them up, come back and drive the pick up and trailer to Le Ford’s front gate, which was off the road far enough not to be noticed by folks passing by. He’d stick the keys in the front corner of the dog trailer.
Now folks, that gesture really raised the Misfit’s opinion of the local constabulary, not to say they had a bad opinion to begin with, but TNT was your stereotypical Southern Sheriff, big, fat, but not too fat, and as mean looking as a tan yard dog. Why none of the misfits had ever seen TNT crack a grin, let alone a full-bore smile. The plan was to back Steve’s Excursion up to the back of the trailer, opening the doors on each and have the hounds jump out of the trailer right into the back of the Excursion. The hounds didn’t see it that way, though. The minute the doors were opened, the made a mad dash for Le Fords pasture fence and tore out toward the woods, that is all of them except Ole Blue. Blue, wanting to conserve his energy walked slowly over to the Excursion and hopped into the back.
Steve drove the quarter-mile to the gate and while Le Ford was unlocking it, the rest were straining to hear which way the hounds went. “Not to worry”, said Le Ford. “Ole Blue will lead us to them.” And he did, but not before taking a “dump” in the back end of Steve’s Excursion. Nobody noticed it until much, much later.
As they parked the Excursion, they could hear the hounds on the west side of the pasture in the big woods where the raccoons hung out. Old Blue kinda looked around at the group as if to say, “Follow me boys”, and started trotting toward the yodeling of the rest of the pack.
Le Ford’s farm is large by Missippi standards, twelve hundred and eighty acres or two sections of land, with over eight hundred being wooded. In case you aren’t familiar with sections, they’re a mile square, so we’re talking about a strip of land two miles long by a mile wide. A feller could wear hisself to a frazzle traipsing around after the hounds as they chased a coon around eight hundred acres of timber.
As they got closer to the hounds, they realized they were circling, “Probably lost the scent”, said Le Ford. Let’s just go over a piece and sit down and lean back on them thar trees and listen to the beautiful “hound music”. Well folks, that’s what they did as the hounds circled, trying to pick up the coon’s scent.
Le Ford was loving it, saying, “Boys just listen to that. That deep voice is Tom and listen to Wilma and Betty. They harmonize as good as any coon hounds in Missippi. What beautiful voices.” About then those in the gang who didn’t appreciate hound music began to lose patience.
“Will they pick up the coon’s trail again?” queried Uncle Percy. “Fer sure” said Le Ford, “Why there’s Ole Blue come back to get us.” They began a slow walk, following Ole Blue as he made his way back to the pack. “Smart dog, coming back after us” allowed D. L., “Never seen such a smart dog.” Pretty soon, the hounds let out a bunch of “bar-roops”, signaling they’d found the trail again. Now the fun began in earnest. The hounds went this way and then that way and then back this way again, chasing that old coon. After about twenty minutes of this craziness, they treed. How do I know they treed? Well you don’t have to go coon hunting but once and hear a bunch of hounds tree to know. Then you’ll never forget. It’s a frantic yelping, bellering, barking, howling and bar-rooping, all in one place, no going and coming movement. The hounds were wearing out the tree jumping and clawing it trying to get to the coon.
We made our way to the hounds and the tree they were trying to climb. “Now what?” yelled Ollie. Le Ford countered, “Somebody’s got to climb the tree and shake that ole coon down?” “You’re kiddin”, said the rest in perfect unison. Well folks, you can imagine who had to climb the tree.
Steve didn’t want to, but since he was the youngest and didn’t want to “lose stock” in the eyes of his friends, finally agreed to climb after the coon. Only problem was that Steve climbed the wrong tree. He didn’t know it, but as he was about fifteen feet off the ground, the coon switched trees. Jim, who was shinning his 1,000,000 candle power spot-light saw the big boar coon as he slyly crossed from one tree to the next. “He’s a biggun”, said Jim.
“He changed trees”, yelled Le Ford. Steve said that’d be no problem since the trees were so close together, he’d just walk out this branch and grab one on the other tree and swing himself over. Before Le Ford could yell, “Don’t do it”, Steve swung. The rest was a blur. Steve fell that fifteen feet to the ground and landed flat of his back. There was a sickening “sucking sound” as Steve dang near disappeared in to the swampy ground. Thank the Lord they were down in a swampy place and the ground was soft.
Somehow the coon lost his balance and fell out of the tree and landed right beside Steve, probably from laughing at him. The big boar took off, lickety-split, while Steve lay there in the mud and gasping for breath. After getting his wind back, he looked up at the gang and said, “Please guys, rake me out a clean place to lie down.”
D. L. who had paramedic training in game warden school, took a real good inventory of Steve. He could move his hands, feet, and head and had feeling every where, so D. L. slowly helped him sit up. Steve sat there about five minutes getting his bearings and then started laughing! The rest of the misfits joined in. Le Ford was especially happy since Steve’s accident had occurred on his land with his dogs and his tree and his coon. He knew if it had been bad, he’d have had to report it in his newspaper, the Moon Holler Gazette. And he didn’t relish that at all.
After a few minutes rest, the gang got up and headed to where the dogs had re-treed the old boar coon. “Who’s gonna get’em down this time?” asked Le Ford. “Let Ole Blue”, countered Hardy. “As smart as he is, I bet he can climb trees too.” They all had a good laugh and decided the ole coon had had enough. Le Ford whistled the dogs in and they headed to the A-frame for a little rest and liquid refreshment. After a few bottles of Shiner, and re-living Steve’s fall, they tried to go to sleep, but they were like a bunch of Tenderfoot Scouts. Every little while one of them would giggle and then the whole bunch would cut loose again.
Next morning, as they were loading the dogs in the back of the Excursion, since the dog trailer was still out at the gate, they got a whiff and also saw where Ole Blue had done his business the night before. You know how doggie doo smells when you get on your shoes? Well, the whole inside of the Excursion smelled that way and to make matters worse, when Ole Blue climbed in first and the other hounds smelled what he’d done, they took it as a sign for them to unload too.
Steve was wondering how in the world he’d get the smell out, as they opened the tail gate and let the dogs cross over to Le Ford’s trailer. “Tell you what”, said Jim, let’s go to the Ford Place. I’ve got a high powered spray washer that we can use to wash it out “That’ll work”, said Steve, for he sure didn’t want to go home with his truck smelling like an over used and unclean dog kennel. He was lucky that the Excursion had a slip-out rubber mat in the back, for it’d be easy to take out and wash.
“What will I do about the smell?” said Steve. Ollie said he had some really high-powered deodorizer spray down at his store that Steve could use to get rid of it. “Watch him Steve” said D. L. or he’ll spray some of that ‘Uncle Willie’s Original Buck Scent’ in there.
“ I’ve got a better idea”, offered Hardy, “Let’s go by the burger joint and all get a big burger and fries and eat’em on the way home leave the sacks and a bunch of pickles and onions in the back end. That’ll cure the smell for sure.” “Yep, but you’ll need to let it cure a couple of days before letting Cora Beth use the Excursion again”, said Jim.
“Yeah, we’ll have to walk to church today. Why don’t I just leave the Excursion at the Ford place and pick it up Monday morning. I’ll tell her that you need to adjust the rear doors”, drawled Steve. Jim countered with, “That’ll work and I hear that Cora Beth loves hamburgers anyway.” They giggled the rest of the way to Wetland’s Ford.
