Where the Red Fern Grows (16 page)

    Each noise I heard and each sight I saw was very familiar to me but I never grew tired of listening and watching. They were a God-sent gift and I enjoyed them all.

    As I skipped along, it was hard for me to realize all the wonderful things that had happened to me in such a few short years. I had two of the finest little hounds that ever bawled on the trail of a ringtail coon. I had a wonderful mother and father and three little sisters. I had the best grandpa a boy ever had, and to top it all, I was going on a championship coon hunt. It was no wonder that my heart was bursting with happiness. Wasn't I the luckiest boy in the world?

    Everyone was just sitting down to supper when I got home. My sisters quit the table for the candy. I told them to divide it equally. The oldest one asked if I wanted any of it.

    "No," I said. "I brought it all for you." Of course, I didn't tell them about the four pieces I had in my pocket.

    They thanked me with their clear blue eyes.

    I guess it's pretty hard for a young boy to fool his mama. She took one look at me and called me over. She ruffled up my hair, kissed me, and said, "If my little boy's eyes get any bigger they're going to pop right out of his head. Now tell me, what are you so happy about?"

    Before I could say anything, Papa chuckled and asked, "What's going on between you and your grandpa? What are you and that old man cooking up now?"

    As fast as I could talk I started telling about the big coon hunt. I told how hard Grandpa had been working to have my dogs entered, and how he had already paid my entry fee.

    Catching my breath and looking at Papa, I said, "We're going in his buggy and he wants you to go."

    I waited in silence for his reply. Papa sat there staring off into space, sipping his coffee and saying nothing. I knew he was thinking.

    In the silence I was sure I could hear my heart thumping.

    I said, "Papa, please go. We'll have a lot of fun and besides the winner receives a big golden cup."

    He scratched his head and said, "Billy, I'd sure like to go, but I don't see how I can with all this work around here."

    I was beginning to think that Papa wasn't going to go. Then Mama started talking.

    "Work?" she said. "Why, all the work is practically done. I don't know of one thing you couldn't put off for a few days. Why don't you go? You haven't been anywhere since I don't know when."

    "It's not only the work I'm thinking of," Papa said. "It's you and the girls."

    "Why, don't worry about the girls and me," Mama said, "We'll be all right. Besides, it'll be several months yet before I need any help."

    When Mama said this, it dawned on me. I had been so busy with my coon hunting I hadn't noticed anything unusual. Mama's tummy was all swelled up. She was going to have a baby. I felt guilty for not having noticed. I went over and put my arms around her and kissed her.

    Papa spoke up. "It's sure going to be a big hunt," he said. "I heard something about it up at the store one day."

    "Grandpa said there would be hunters there from everywhere," I said, "and some of the best coon hounds in the country."

    "Do you think you have a chance to win the cup?" Papa asked.

    I started to answer him when the little one piped up. "They can't beat Old Dan and Little Ann," she said. "I just bet they can't."

    Everyone laughed at her serious remark. I would have kissed her but she had candy, corn bread, and molasses all over her face.

    I told Papa I didn't know how good those dogs were, but there was one thing I did know. If they beat mine, they would have to hunt harder than they ever had before.

    After I had had my say about the dogs, a silence settled over the dining room. Everyone was looking at Papa and waiting for his answer.

    I saw a pleased smile spread over his face. He stood up. "All right, I'll go," he said, "and, by golly, we'll bring that gold cup back, too."

    My sisters started clapping their hands and squealing with delight. A satisfied smile spread over my mother's face.

    At that moment I'm sure no boy in the world could have been happier than I. Tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks. Mama wiped them away with her apron.

    In the midst of all the excitement, my little sister, saying not a word, climbed down from her chair. No one said anything. We just watched her.

    Still clutching a spoon in her small hand, she came around the table and walked up to me. Looking down at the floor, in a bashful voice, she asked, "Can I have the gold cup?"

    Putting my finger under her sticky little chin, I tilted her head up. I smiled as I looked into her clear blue eyes. I said, "Honey, if I win it, I'll give it to no one but you."

    I had to cross my heart and hope to die several times before she was satisfied.

    Back in her chair she gloated over the others. "You just wait and see," she said. "It'll be all mine, nobody's but mine, and I'll put my banty eggs in it."

    "Silly, you don't put banty eggs in a gold cup," the oldest one said. "They're just made to look at."

    That night I dreamed about gold cups, little red hounds, and coons as big as rain barrels. Once I woke myself up whooping to my dogs.

    The next few days were busy ones for me. Knowing that Papa and I would be gone for several days, I did everything I could to make things convenient for Mama. I chopped a large pile of wood and stacked it close to the kitchen door. To make it easy for her to feed our stock, I cut some poles from the hillside and boxed up one of the stalls in the barn. I filled it full of hay so she wouldn't have to climb the ladder to the loft.

    Papa laid down the law to my sisters about being good and helping Mama while we were gone.

    The day before we were to leave, I was as nervous as a June bug in a henhouse. The day seemed endless. A few of the miserable hours were spent talking to my dogs. I told them all about the big hunt and how important it was.

    "Now if you don't win the golden cup," I said, "I won't be mad because I know you will do your best."

    Old Dan wouldn't even look at me, and paid no attention to what I said. He was sulking because I hadn't been taking him hunting. When I talked to Little Ann, it was different. She listened and seemed to understand everything I said.

    I dreaded to go to bed that night. I thought sleep would be impossible. I must have been more tired than I thought I was. I fell asleep almost immediately. Old Red, our rooster, woke me at daybreak, crowing his fool head off.

    It was a beautiful morning, clear and frosty.

    After a good breakfast, we kissed Mama goodbye and started for the store.

    I'm sure there were a lot of coon hunters in the Oxarks, but on that morning none could have felt as big and important as I. Walking along by the side of my father, I threw out my chest and tried hard to keep pace with his long strides. He noticed and laughed.

    "You'll have to grow a little bit," he said, "before you can take steps that long."

    I didn't say anything. I just smiled.

    Hearing a noise overhead, I looked up. The gray ones were winging their way southward. I listened to their talking and wondered what they were saying.

    Looking to the mountains around us, I saw that the mysterious artist who comes at night had paid us a visit. I wondered how he could paint so many different colors in one night; red, wine, yellow, and rust.

    My dogs were trotting along in front of us. I smiled at the way their hind quarters shifted to the right. Little Ann would jump and bounce and try to get Old Dan to play, but the solemn old boy just jogged along, heedless of everything.

    "You know," Papa said, "she doesn't even act like a hound. She is bouncing and playing all the time. Why, she acts more like a little pup than a hound."

    "Yes, I know," I said. "I've noticed that myself, but you know one thing, Papa, she's the smartest dog I've ever seen. Why, some of the things she does are almost unbelievable."

    "Yes, I know," said Papa, "but still it's strange, very strange."

    "There's only one thing wrong with her, Papa," I said.

    "Yea, what's that?" he asked.

    "You won't believe it," I said, "but she's gun-shy."

    "Gun-shy? How do you know she's gun-shy?" Papa asked.

    "I didn't know for a long time," I said, "until one day when I was hoeing corn down in the field by the old slough. She and Old Dan were digging in a bank t after a ground hog. Across the river some fishermen ! started shooting a gun. It scared Little Ann, and she came running to me, shaking all over."

    "Aw," Papa said, "maybe you just thought she was scared."

    "No, I didn't, Papa," I said. "It happened again up at the store one day. Grandpa shot a chicken hawk. When the gun went off, it scared her half to death. No, she's gun-shy all right."

    "Aw, well," Papa said, "that doesn't mean anything. A lot of dogs are afraid of guns."

    "I know," I said, 'Taut you wouldn't think she would be that way. I believe if I had a gun of my own I could break her of being gun-shy."

    Papa looked at me. He said, "From what your mother says, you won't be getting a gun for some time yet."

    "Yes, I know," I said.

    When we reached the store we saw the team was already hitched to the buggy and was standing in front of the store. Grandpa had loaded the tent and several boxes of groceries.

    I had never seen him in such high spirits. He slapped Papa on the back, saying, "I'm sure glad you could go with us. It'll do you good to get out once in a while."

    Papa laughed and said, "It looked like I had to go or have everyone in the family mad at me."

    Looking in the buggy I saw my ax. I didn't think I ever wanted to see it again, but for some reason it didn't look like I thought it would. There was no blood on it and it looked harmless enough laying there all clean and bright.

    Grandpa saw me looking at it. He came over.

    "I kept it a few days," he said, "just in case the marshal wanted to ask some questions. Everything seems to be all right now, and we may need a good ax on this hunt."

    Grandpa sensed how I felt about the ax. He waited in silence for my answer.

    The excitement of the hunt was so strong in me, even the sight of the ax brought back only a fleeting remembrance of Rubin's accident.

    I said, "Yes, we will need one. Besides, it's a good one and there's no use in throwing it away."

    Grandpa laughed, reached over, and screwed my cap around on my head, saying, "That the boy, that's what I wanted you to say. Now, you better go to the barn and get some hay and make a bed in the buggy box for your dogs."

    "Aw, Grandpa," I said, "they can walk. They don't ever get tired; besides, they're used to walking."

    "Walk!" Grandpa almost shouted. "They're not going to walk. No, sir, not if I can help it. You want them to be footsore when we get there?"

    Papa chuckled and said, "We can't win a gold cup with two sore-footed hounds, can we?"

    "Of course not," Grandpa said. "Now, you go and get that hay like I said."

    As I turned to go to the barn I couldn't help but smile. It made me feel good to have my papa and grandpa so concerned about my dogs.

    I had taken only a few steps when Grandpa said, "Oh, wait a minute."

    I stopped and turned around.

    Walking up to me and glancing toward the house as he did, he whispered, "In that empty kraut barrel in the harness room, there's a jug of corn liquor. Cover it up in the hay so your grandma won't see it, and bring it back with you."

    With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "You never can tell when we'll need some medicine."

    I knew my father wouldn't drink any of the liquor, but if Grandpa wanted to take along a whole barrel, it was all right with me.

    Just when I thought we were ready to leave, Grandma came bustling out.

    Grandpa got nervous. He whispered and asked, "Did you hide the jug good?"

    I nodded my head.

    Grandma handed Grandpa a pair of long-handle underwear and a scarf, saying, "I knew you'd forget something."

    Grandpa snorted but knew there was no use arguing with her.

    She started picking around in the groceries, asking about salt, pepper, and matches.

    "Nannie, we've got everything," he said. "You must think I'm a baby and don't know how to pack a grub box."

    "A baby," Grandma snorted. "Why, you're worse than a baby. At least they have a little sense. You don't have any at all. An old codger like you out chasing a coon all over the hills."

    At her biting remark, I thought Grandpa was going to blow up. He snorted like Daisy, our milk cow, when she had seen a booger.

    I crawled up in the buggy box with my dogs and hung my feet out.

    Grandma came over and asked me about warm clothes. I told her I had plenty.