In the spring of 1965, when the carp began to spawn in the shallow streams and beaver ponds around where I lived. I headed out one afternoon to try my luck. I was in my old 1950 Plymouth automobile, headed north on Hwy 25 out of Wilsonville, Alabama. I passed by the old Wallace plantation home that Colonel Wallace had built after the Creek Indians were walked out of these parts on the "Trail of Tears". He and a Mr. Robertson were the first residents in this area and after they had picked out what and how many acres of land they wanted,. They had to ride by horseback to the town of Tuscaloosa, overland. There were no bridges to cross rivers and streams and no roads. The trip one way took them several days to make it to the federal land bank office, that was set up there, for people to claim their new land. The Wallace family graveyard was located not far from the house,down a small field road back in some woods.Off to the right down a trail a little, was a large beaver pond that backed up for several miles with one dam after another. The swamp were it lay was called Walthaw swamp. It was named after the famous movie actor Henry Walthaw, that played in the motion pricture film, Birth of a Nation.
I got out of my old plymouth and gathered my bow and quiver full of arrows. As I headed out to where the pond was, I walked by Colonel Wallaces grave. In a joking way, when I walked by his headstone, I pattied my hand on top of it and said,"Hey Colonel" "What you doing down there?" and he said nothing.
I could hear some talking out in one of the ponds and walked along the shoreline to get a look as to who it was. After a short walk over logs and waiding shallow water, I could see the heads of three possibly four black men busy doing something, down behind the beaver dam. I walked closer and saw who one of them was. It was my old friend "Chetah". He was alot of fun and everyone liked him. He and I had hunted beavers at night before. He like to hold the light and I would do the archery work. When I had killed a couple, we would go by his house and unload. He could make some fine Bar-B-que out of those beavers on a hickory wood fire. His special sauce was something he gaurded closely. If any of his friends were around to see the beavers we would be unloading, he would often be bragging as to how I could shoot that longbow like it was a machine gun. He could always tell a good story and before he would finish, he had convinced the ones listening that a beaver was the badest night animal around.
Old Chetah and his pals had torn out a beaver dam to drain the water level down so as to be able to catch some fish. He ask me what I was up to and I answered him, saying that I was looking for carp, gar fish, snakes, beavers, turtles or just anything worth shooting at, in order to have fun. He told me that if I would return about dusty dark, those old beavers would be there to repair the dam and I could surely get a shot. I took his advice and walked back to my car. I opened up the turtle shell. I new that I had a couple of special beaver arrows stored away in the trunk. The arrows were port orford cedar, painted camo with a Howard Hill barbed broadhead mounted on the front and pinned to the shaft. I had drilled a small hole through the ferrule and fastened a small airplane cable. I had the cable taped along the side with a loop at the top,so I could fasten a braided line that could be tied to a tree. I didn't ever tie the braided line to my bow or myself as I knew quite well how strong and dangerous a beaver can be when wounded and fighting. One bite from a beavers teeth can go right through your hand or leg. They may look gentle, cute and easy going, but once injuryed look out.
I decided I would walk a long way around and enter the stream above the dam and stalk back down, ever so quietly. Once I found a place to hide, I would wait till the beavers showed up to make thier repair to the busted dam. I new of a large stump that sat out in the pond about 50 feet from the dam. From atop the stump, I figured I would have the perfect advantage point, to make my shot.
I stalked along ever so slowly, trying to not make a sound. When I was about half way to my final destination, I came upon a large beaver lodge with limbs and twigs stacked higher than my head. I remember thinking to myself,"Man thats the biggest beaver house I have ever seen." As I was stalking, the ripples in the water that I was making moved in the direction of the beaver lodge. It was beginning to get dark and the moon was just beginning to rise. No more than 50 yards to go and I would be where I wss headed. As I moved forward, I caught a glimpse of something floating in the water, close to the beaver lodge. I stopped my stalk for a second to allow my eyes to focus. I thought to myself, "Man you better be careful","If there is a snake anywhere around here, this would be a good place to see one". No sooner had this thought passed over my mind, when my eyes came into focus and I saw what I didn't want to see.There floating in the water no more than 10 feet in front, off to my right and next to the lodge the biggest and meanest looking cottonmouth, I believe I had ever seen. He had to be the granddaddy of them all. At least four and one half feet was floating in the water and the other one and a half feet was up on the side of the beaver lodge, turned slightly and looking dead at me. Looking back, I swear I could see a devilish look in his eyes and they seemed to glow red in the moonlight. I first thought I would take a shot. Then the thought ran across my mind that if I tried a shot, what if I missed.I would then have to except the loss of a fine arrow, that I might could use later. If I made the shot then there was know way that I was going to try to retrive my arrow, for fear of getting bit. I figured that it would be in my best interest to back up and detour around old granddaddy cottonmouth.I proceeded to take long carefully placed steps backwards, as far as I could reach. I was half way through my third step and making good distance away from him, when he started to move in my direction.I felt sure that he meant business. Next thing I heard was him making a hissing sound, like a Python I had seen at the local zoo, during feeding time.I could tell that he didn't like me being in that pond. It was his domain and he was letting me know that I wasn't welcome. About this time he moved forward, coming for me on top of the water, at full speed. I don't recall ever seeing a cottonmouth moving so fast. At this moment I decided it was time for me to get going and I went skyward. I do believe I must have went straight up at least 5 feet. When I reached my peak in the sky, I did a 180 degree turn and called out to God. Its funny how some people never talk to him till the chips are down or the going gets tuff. But, I remember reading a story in the Bible where Jesus told one of his disciples while out fishing, that if he had faith he could walk on the water like him and he did the same. I guess my faith was well founded. When my feet came back down and touched the water, They were moving as fast as a road runner, hauling butt across a western plain.I walked on the water that evening for at least 100 yards. I wasn't wasting no time and don't believe I have ever moved so fast. Several times, I looked back over my shoulder and swore I could see that old snake hot on my heels. As I ran on top of the water, I had my longbow by the lower limb and was whipping hell out of any and every sapling that got in my way, as I ran forward. I must have looked like Davy Crokett at the Alamo, as I fought knocking saplings first right and then left and hollowing at the top of my voice. After reaching the bank, I figured with all the noise I had made, every beaver within a country mile would know my presience now.
I walked back to my car passing by the old Colonel's tombstone once again. As I reached for the door handle, my heart was still pounding in my chest, I felt a voice inside my head that said, "Now you know why I didn't say anything, much less go with you!"I promptly turned around, but no one was there, only the granite stone marker shining in the moonlight.
I drove back toward home, having ruined my chances at killing a beaver. As I drove, I thought my car was running out of gas. At the same time, on the radio, Jerry Lee Lewis was singing his song, "Hole lot of shaking going On". Hearing this made think and realize my car wasn't out of gas. It was my foot dancing on the gas peddle making the car jump.
Never been one to be afraid of snakes, as I have hunted them all my life. Its just the one's that disappear or you can't see in tall grass that make me get nervous or maybe I should add the one's that make me "Walk on the Water".Jerry Hill..............
nice story. Thanks for sharing.
Good story. We have plenty of those cottonmouths over here also. They are mean and agressive.
had one swim between my skiney dippen legs one time i walked on water to, that was about 55 year ago. seems like yesterday. loyd
Jerry,
Man as I was sitting here enjoying my cup of :scared: Man that was a good story and thanks for sharing it ... :campfire: Keefer's <")))><
Thanks Jerry, great way to start my morning. Mike
I think I would have been similarly motivated, isn't it funny how a little fear can help you find speed you never knew you had? Great story, thanks for sharing .
Good story,thanks for sharing.
That story is a great way to start the day thanks!
A good chuckle to start off the morning! Thanks for sharing Jerry! I could just about see you in my mind running across the water!
2nd one of your stories I've. Thanks for entertaining an old guy!
Consider putting all these great stories on DVD. Snakes you don't expect can turn your butt into a steam whistle. Thanks for telling.
I really enjoyed your story.I beleive that at that moment I would have experienced FLIGHT!
Everybody has a story to tell. Maybe some of mine will give you something differant to share with your fellow archers around the camp fire. Make a copy and take it with you next time you go. That way I can be with you at least in spirit.Jerry Hill........................
Wonderful story.
I sure do enjoy reading your stories! Thanks for sharing another one.
Jerry,
I've got something to tell you and I want you to listen really closely, YOU'RE GOOD, MAN!!!
I loved reading the stories that Howard told when I picked up a used copy of "Hunting The Hard Way" at a blanket swap at the Cloverdale shoot a few years back.
His ability to "put you in his pocket" and take you along for the ride was incredible.
Very few writers have that, in my opinion. You sir, are one of those fellas. I, for one, am glad that you are here. A "tip of the old archery hat" to you friend.
Please, by all means, bring'em on. We need more stories like that. G'day.
Another great story Jerry! You have a gift for telling them. Keep them coming! Thanks!
Great story Jerry.. I cant wait to read more..
>>>--------->
Cody R
To all fellow archers. Thank you all for you comments. I'm so appreciative,as the things I write is the life I have lived. You can't make this kind of stuff up, you have to live it.Maybe it will put some ideas in your heads, as life is short, you might as well have some fun. Go find a cottonmouth snake, he will give you plenty to write about. I promise.Jerry Hill............
Crazy. Those cottonmouths sound like an awful critter!
Michigan isn't so bad! no snakes w/ poison to speak of!
Jerry, in the Mississippi delta the cottonmouths are quite large and come with lots of attitude. Have had my share of experiences with them. Each encounter has given me a greater and healthier respect for the cottonmouth.
Ron, I know what you mean. I've hunted both northern Mississippi as well as in the southern part. I remember hunting with the late Bobby Lofton, of Indianola. We ran into quite a few hunting the national forest for wild hogs.Most snakes will tend to move out of one's way if given a halfway chance. But, the cottonmouth will lay right there still and let you step on them and then bite, or will run you slam out of the swamp. When you see one, they have a differant look about them than other snakes. The way I see them, is get close to me or mess with me and I'm going to get you. They have a business end on them that pays to be respected. Even the young one's when born, come out of the shell with biting something on their mind.Momma cottonmouth snakes are very protected of the young, and when danger approaches she will open her mouth and let the little one's run into her mouth for safey, and on into her belly. There they stay until the danger passes and then she will open up and let them crawl back out.Jerry Hill...............
Jerry, you were truly fortunate to have hunted with Bobby Lofton. He is certainly missed around here. I still have a Choctow Halfbreed that he made for me and intend on keeping it until I am long gone. Where did you guys hunt in Mississippi. If you ever get the chance you should hunt Dahomey NWR just west of Cleveland, Mississippi. That place is now overrun with hogs. I'm concerned that they are going to due some serious damage to the turkey population there. You are absolutely right, the cottonmouth has a totally different look about them. Almost comparable to a line in the Jaws movie where the guy was referring to black lifeless eyes of the Great White shark. Cottonmouths here have a facial expression that gives those dark eyes a sense of foreboding. One of the things I learned real quick here is that people shouldn't rely on snake boots to protect them. These big boys cans hit a person well above the knee. They do not always strike in a straight line forward ankle or calf high. I had one stand similar to a cobra with that white mouth open in the tall grass and fall short of me by about four inches. Fortunately I was carrying the 12 gauge and believe it or not I shot that snake three times with that semi-automatic and it still kept striking. Reloaded and finished it with two more shells. Spring is coming and with it the turkey season at Dahomey. Spring also signals the reemergence of the snake population. It's during this time here in the delta that they are ready to breed and shed their skins which is the double whammy for a very aggressive snake. Don't believe that Animal Planet crap that the cottonmouth is a very misunderstood snake and isn't aggressive at all. Those guys should come here and get next to these snakes. When I hunt now I wear the full length snake leggings since that close call I had. Walking on water is an over simplification. When it comes to these snakes I can fly.
Ron, I drove to Indianola and got with Bobby Lofton at his house. The NWR wasn't but an hour away, and I'm trying to remember the name. I do remember reading a sign located at a camp ground on a creek, that stated that this was the location that some good old boys pulled a bear hunting trick on Teddy Roosevelt. Your right,cottonmouth's are nothing to fool around with and anyone that doesn't have experience with them, just don't know what they are talking about. You're subject to run into one most anyplace during the spring, not neccessarly around water, during mating season. Also you better watch wear you drop your draws when mother nature calls. One may be waiting behind a log.Jerry Hill......................
Dahomey NWR is about 30 or so miles northwest of Indianola and came into existence around 1994 or thereabouts. Matthews Brake NWR is east of Indianola, close to Sidon, and about 25 miles. Just south of Matthews Brake is Hillside NWR and that is just north of Yazoo City, probably more than an hour away from Indianola. I have never hunted Matthews or Hillside NWRs, but Dahomey is my second home during hunting season. One day Dahomey is going to be a bow only NWR due to the declining number of deer there. Gun season for the year is only six days. This is one NWR where they have gotten strict on seasons and weapons used. Don't get caught in the woods during gun season with a bow and you can't hunt small game with a bow. Hogs cannot be hunted year round and only during an open season with the weapon specified for that season. I am discussing with the Director of the Northern Regional Complexes about letting us hunt with bow and arrow during small game season so that we can hunt the hogs. It is also illegal to kill anything that is not on listed as game on the hunting schedule. In a way the snake population is protected, but what they don't know won't hurt me. If the hog population continues to explode I expect to see a decline in the snake population as well. If you ever get over this way get in touch and maybe we can chase those hogs around the NWR.
don't have cotton mouths here in Indiana, but I do have some good stories about blue racers and skunks
Everyone who frequents the outdoors in MS knows about those badass cottonmouths. Sometimes they avoid you, but just as often they'll stand their ground or even attack, without provocation. Once while shotgunning for early-season teal, I had to shoot a big one to keep it out of my waders. They will also try to get in a boat at times, and most swamp fishermen carry a pistol, just in case.
I was fishing around the bank of Bluff Lake near Starkville when in college, which is a Federal refuge and no guns are allowed on the lake. It was full of big cottonmouths, and you had to be constantly on guard. I killed four that day with my walking stick, and didn't go back.
You can tell them from the harmless water snakes when they're swimming because the heavy body of the cottonmouth sinks. Only the head shows above water. I accidentally hooked one behind the head one day with a fly rod, because I thought it was a frog and there might be a fish behind it. Yes, that was exciting!
Don,
Did you give him your flyrod? When I was growing up many years ago, I was cane pole fishing at Rodman Reservior in Putnam County Florida. I hooked a pretty good sized moccasin, about 4 foot long. I had no intention of trying to take him off the hook and he was pretty upset about the hook in his mouth (I was using a frog for bait), so I gave him my cane pole.
Thanks really enjoyed the story!
Great Story, wish I could have been there just to watch!! LOL!!
Great story....I could just picture you.....water splashing...heart pounding like it was bustin out of your chest.
All the time thinking it's right behind you.
It's funny how our whole attitude changes when we are hunting something....it feels good, but when the shoe is on the other foot we tend to do what horses do....get the heck outta dodge.
I was chased across a field by a badger when I was young....shot at him while he was digging up gophers.
I creased him with the 22 and he stood up...dropped and came running at me like a little hovercraft across thte prairie.
I dropped the gun and jumped on my bike and high tailed it outta there.
When I went back for the gun he had chewed th stock up some and pissed all over it.
Great story Jerry
jerry
That was a fantastic read! Thank you for sharing it. Now I've got snakes on my mind... gee, thanks!
(Glad we don't have cottonmouths over here - they sound NASTY)
Selfbow19953, I brought him in and whacked him with my walking stick. He was a big one, and put up a good fight! I wasn't going to let him have my rod, though.
Great story, Jerry. I love the stories from the early days- makes me miss Dan Quillian. He was full of them, and loved to talk about your "Uncle Howard".
Jerry, is Stinson still with us? He taught me how to put on my points so they wouldn't pull off in the targets at the first World Championship that I attended, and I've told that story a couple of times here. Another Hill gentleman.
THANK YOU.i love thes storys than you for takeing the time butting this down :thumbsup: :cool: :clapper:
Again great story Jerry. Thanks for writing them up. They are precious.
Don, Daddy passed away about seven years ago and mother a year. I pass their grave almost daily here in Wilsonville and usually call to them and tell them where I'm headed for the day. I sure do miss em. How did Daddy tell you to fix your points, its probably the way he and I have fixed thousands over the years. Don you and I have got to go a hunting.Jerry Hill................
Jerry, I thoroughly enjoy reading your stories. They remind me of my youth, which was quite some time ago. No running water, the outhouse, scary snakes, been there, done that. I remember the oldest ones got to bathe first, once a week on Saturday night. And the best fishin bait I've ever found is grasshopper, from July thru August and don't care what you're fishing for.
Your stories are very enjoyable. Thanks, Travis.
Jerry, it was before I started making shafts and Dan had fixed me up with some cedars for my Bamboo Longhunter. Stinson was cooking burgers for the crowd under the shelter, and saw me about to glue on some more points after I had lost some in the targets. He took me under his wing, and put my points on the grill, right by the burgers! He told me to get a cup of cold water, and showed me how to put the hot-melt on and seat the points using pliers first and them pushing them straight in against one of the poles, and then cooling them quickly in the water as soon as they set enough to stay in place. I've never had another problem with points coming off since.
A hunt sounds good to me, as long as it's not after them cottonmouths!
Wow great story, and yes those cotton mouths will make you walk on water, been there done that in Texas, must say your story was intense.
Don, Thats exactly the way we have always done it. Some of the best glue I ever used was the glue used in the manufacture of hearing aid batteries. Had a ball of it, and used it for years, putting on points and inserts in aluminum arrows. You could hold an insert with a pair of nock set pliers and get it hot over a butane torch and once it was hot enough to melt the glue I would heat the end of the shaft only a little, not wanting to take the temper out, and sock the insert into place and then take a rag and wipe off the excess glue while it was still hot, then dump the shaft end into cold water. This would lock everything together. Never did have an insert pull out or point pull off.Just wanted to hear the story from you.Jerry Hill.........