Chapter 2

Finally, we calmed down and tried to figure out what to do. Eventually, we decided simply to get rid of the man's body and not to say anything to anyone about what happened. Disposing of the body would be easy: all I had to do was to dump it in the pecan grove and let the wild hogs eat it. The body would be fully consumed withing two days.

We stripped his body and dragged it out the door. That was easy because he was pretty well lined up with the door, so I tied his feet together and ran the rope to tie it to his saddle. I rode the horse and dragged him all the way to the pecan grove. I had no intention of wasting the rope, so I untied his feet and rode back home. I put the horse in the barn along with our original one and hung the tack on a peg that was already on the wall.

One good thing about all of this was that the man had a 12-gauge shotgun that used shells. Not only that, he had 96 shells in his saddle bags. Now I had some real protection against the wild hogs. The shotgun was a double-barrel type and had a sling so that I could carry it over my shoulder. The man also had $12.53 that we added to our cash supply. Though we didn't think of it that way at the time, the man did us a favor by intruding.

It was planting time, and I needed to go into town to pick up some seed and a few other things. Also, I thought to try my hand at commercial hunting now that I had the shotgun. The first step in my possible new career was to kill a couple of wild hogs for sale in town.

Since the wild hogs were not going to come to me, I had to go to them. I hitched the old horse to our buckboard that pa had won as some sort of gambling debt and headed toward the pecan grove. I figured that was the best place to find wild hogs. I was going to leave the buckboard in a safe place and take Sam with me when I walked in to hunt hogs. I had modified six of the shotgun shells so that they would act like slugs instead of shot and loaded the right barrel with the modified shell with a conventional #00 buckshot shell in the left barrel. That way, I should be protected from any sort of odd situation.

At first, we didn't find any hogs, but Sam's nose eventually came to the rescue. He was well trained to go after game slowly enough for me to follow, and he soon led me to a little clearing in the brush where a sow and six pigs and piglets were rooting for food. I couldn't tell if they were all hers, so I had to be on the lookout for more adult hogs. Naturally, I was most concerned about a boar. I didn't expect more than one boar because of the way they were so territorial. Two boars getting together was sure to produce a fight, possibly resulting in the death of one of them.

Nevertheless, one boar and more sows were definitely a possibility, so I had to be watchful. Sam and I had a working agreement: he found the game for me and I protected him from sneak attack. Previously, that had meant that I had little to do since we were only hunting rabbits and squirrels, but I was now essential because we were hunting wild hogs, and there was no more dangerous animal in the wilds of Arkansas.

I really didn't want to shoot the sow because that would cut off my supply of pigs and piglets for future hunts. On the other hand, I had no qualms about shooting a boar because a sow could find another mate the next time she was ready to breed. I wasn't sure how old a pig had to be before he could breed a sow, but I figured that it couldn't be very old, so I was not worried about depleting the supply of boars.

Sam had led me to a veritable paradise for wild hogs. While I was surveying the situation, another sow and four more piglets showed up. This was more than I needed for my first venture into commercial hunting, so I started looking for a suitable shooting stand. Just in case of trouble, I wanted to perch in a tree so that I could not be ambushed while my attention was concentrated somewhere else.

After a careful search, I found an old pecan tree just right for my needs. The first limb was only about five feet from the ground, and it was almost like the first rung of a ladder leading up about 15 feet. That was high enough to be safe and not too high to make a poor shooting angle. I ordered Sam to make himself scarce and climbed the tree. Sam was reluctant to leave, but he finally did so—at least, he was out of my sight, though I did not know exactly where he was.

I decided to take four piglets for my first foray into commercial hunting. The choice was based on the fact that we could use them ourselves if I failed to sell them. Also, taking only four would not deplete the supply so much that I would not have any to harvest the next time I visited this spot.

I planned to use the unmodified shells and save the "slug" modified ones for use against the much larger adult hogs. I set up by sitting on a limb that was about 15 feet off the ground and had another limb close by that I could use to steady my aim if I needed it. I hooked one foot around the tree trunk to insure that the shotgun's recoil did not cause me to fall. After all, sitting on a tree limb is not the most steady seat that one could shoot from.

I chose a piglet about 30 feet away and fired a buckshot shell from the left barrel. Uh-oh, I had forgotten to allow for the fact that all of the hogs, no matter what their age would run away from the roar of the shotgun. When the smoke cleared, I had one dead piglet and an empty clearing to show for my efforts. Shit! That was definitely not what I had in mind!

I reloaded the spent chamber before doing anything else, but I had little chance of finding another target without moving. Hardly had I started down from my perch in the tree when I heard Sam barking the way he did when he was chasing something. The sound was getting closer, so I resumed my position and waited to discover what Sam had in mind. First a pig came into sight, and it was followed at a decent interval by Sam.

The pig was running as fast as it could move, but Sam was not. It took me only a moment to understand that Sam was herding another victim toward me. My God! That dog was brilliant!

I got ready, and as soon as the pig ran to a good kill spot, I fired. Sam skidded to a halt and looked at me as if to ask, "Did I do a good job?"

I lavished deserved praise upon Sam so that he had no trouble understanding that I was pleased with his efforts. I gave him a few minutes to rest before I sent him out to try again. During that time, I reloaded the shotgun with another buckshot shell and settled back to wait for further developments.

Damned if I only had to wait about 15 minutes before I heard Sam coming again, but this time he had a different note to his bark. When I caught sight of Sam, he was running flat out, and I could detect a streak of blood along his side. Only moments later, I caught sight of what was chasing the dog: one of the largest wild boars that I had ever seen.

Sam ran toward my tree, and that led the chasing boar close enough for me to get in a shot. This was no time for pissing around with buckshot. I was going to need the "slug" if I had any hope of saving Sam from certain death. Sam was obviously tiring, and the boar was gaining on him.

I was so concerned for Sam's health that, perhaps, I was a little anxious and hasty to get off a shot, but I still managed to put a slug into the side of that wild boar. Just as I fired, Sam stumbled, and the dying boar plowed into the dog as it fell to the ground. Both Sam and I were unbelievably lucky because my one shot must have hit the boar square in the heart. It must have been killed immediately from the shock of the impact against its heart.

Shit, that was enough hunting for the day. Both Sam and I were almost in shock over what nearly happened to the dog. Sam recovered first, and came to me as I sat on the ground. He licked my face repeatedly and bounced around as if he understood exactly what I had done to save him. Our love and friendship were already established, but we bonded even more tightly as a result of these events.

The rest of the day was spent in field dressing the three kills. The boar was so heavy that I had to use the horse to hoist it by a rope over a tree limb so that the blood could drain out. I had pulled it high enough so that I could back the buckboard under the hanging hog and lower it onto the buckboard bed. I could never have moved the whole hog at one time had it not been for the horse. The other two carcasses were loaded onto the buckboard, and Sam rode with me on the driver's seat on the way home.

Mary marveled at the success of my hunt and said that she wanted to go into town with me tomorrow. I knew that she was going to brag to some of her friends over my prowess as a hunter, and I knew that would only increase my chances of making my new business grow. She claimed that she would take the opportunity to do some necessary shopping, but I knew that the bragging was her main intent.

My first stop was at the butcher shop run by Mr. Benson. "Good day, Mr. Benson. I am starting up a new business as a commercial hunter, and I have some goods out front that I think that you will be interested in. Please come take a look."

"Okay, Jack, I'll be right there as soon as I wash my hands." I waited and we walked out together to my buckboard.

"These are examples of what I can provide for you on a fairly regular basis. Are you interested in the meat from wild hogs?"

"You bet, Jack. Wild hogs eat such a variety of food that they always taste better than the farm-grown kind. Let's see what you have to offer. Hot damn, a wild boar! That is a real rarity; can you get more of them?"

"I'm sure that I can, but I don't want to take too many and cut into the production of next year's crop."

"That's a good point. Tell you what, you supply me with as many wild boar carcasses as you can, and I will pay you 7¢ per pound in the state that I see you have here. This one looks to be in the neighborhood of 240 pounds, and that comes to $16.80. Of course, I will have to weigh the carcass to know exactly what I will pay, but you know what range the price will be in. Does that sound fair to you?"

"Absolutely, Mr Benson." I stuck out my hand and we shook on it. Sure, he was going to sell the meat for up to 15¢ per pound, but he would have to butcher the hog and make a profit, so I did not begrudge him the price.

"How about the pig and piglet? What will you give me for them?"

"Hmm ... I guess that I can go 9¢ per pound for the piglet and ... oh, I guess the same for a young pig. Is that agreeable?"

"It certainly is, Mr. Benson, and it is a pleasure to do business with you. Of course, you know that I cannot guarantee how the meat will be divided between the age groups, but I will do my best to meet your requirements. What would you prefer?"

"At this stage, having a reliable supply of wild hog meat of any sort would be a boon for my business. Just bring in what you can, and I will take it from you at the agreed prices. Maybe, later on, I will have a better idea of what sells the best and put in special requests for that. Can you make deliveries on Monday and Thursday?"

"I think so, but I may have to slide a day every once in a while. Will that be okay with you?"

"I'm sure it will. I'll let you know if problems develop. Now, let's move this meat around to the back of my shop and unload it so that I can get accurate weights."

We did that, and I came away with $19.71, more money than I had ever seen before in my life. I could hardly wait to tell Mary of our good fortune. I found her at the general store stocking up on salt, flour, sugar, and coffee. The bill was $1.13, and I sure was happy that I had struck such a good deal with Mr. Benson.

We had a great trip riding home, and Mary said that she wanted to celebrate tonight. I was pretty sure I knew what she had in mind, and I was all for it. I had already moved into her bedroom and her bed, but we had not fucked since that first time. Mary'd had her monthly time, so we had put off any more fun until that was passed. From the way she talked, she must be through with that for this month.

I had not bought the stuff to put in a full crop this year because I was going to have to hunt every day to meet Mr. Benson's requirements. I wanted to talk to Mary about her putting in a garden that she would work while I was out hunting. If that were more than she could manage, then I would have to back off some with Mr. Benson. I really hated to do that because I was sure that I could bring in more than $100 per month with my hunting, and that was more than I could get by farming.

If Mary could work a garden large enough to feed us the vegetables we needed, then we could get by pretty damned easily with that and the money I made from hunting. I could plow it for her and then leave the rest in her hands if everything worked out as I wanted it to. Of course, I would supply the meat for our table. Come to think of it, maybe Mr. Benson would be interested in buying some rabbits and squirrels along with the hog meat. I would have to ask him when I made my next delivery.

It also occurred to me that a lot of the local farmers had a tough time with the wild hogs, and I might be able to get them to pay me to thin out the hog population. If nothing else, I could swap my time killing hogs for permission to hunt on their land and to keep whatever I killed. Hey, maybe that last idea was the best one, because few families had cash money that they could afford to use to pay me to kill hogs. Yes, I definitely was going to have to look into that.

I mentioned my ideas to Mary, and she said that she was willing to give it a try if I were really serious about commercial hunting. "Mary, I am dead serious about that. I think of myself as a pretty half-assed farmer, but as a first class hunter. I am dead sure that I could make us a decent living as a hunter if you can handle the garden so that we do not have to spend all of our money on food."

"Okay, Honey, I will puzzle out how large a garden we would need to feed us through the year. That would have to include enough food to can for use during the winter. That might be a larger garden than I could handle, but I will see what I can manage."

"I could certainly help you with the garden some of the time. I just don't know how much time I will have to spend hunting. I know that I was damned lucky yesterday to find so many hogs of all kinds so easily. A lot of this is going to depend on Sam's nose. In fact, I might need to get a second dog. If I do, I will try for a bitch so that Sam can have a wife of his own."

Mary laughed at that, but I could see her calculating on how we could best split our resources. We got to talking about a garden, and I told her not to take on more than she could do. I was a little bit afraid that she would get carried away with her enthusiasm and desire to help and plan too big a garden. I had about an acre in mind. The one thing that I didn't want to plant was corn because that took up too much space and would cause the garden to become a monster. I mentioned that, and Mary nodded her head in agreement.