Traditions Part 4

By Brandon Adams and John Seginak

 

First of November 1933

Buttermilk and Junior have been busy setting up the decoy still site. They know that Harland and Bo have a reputation for wanting to get their names and photos in the paper while keeping the work to a minimum. They are very careful to make the trail to the decoy still obvious, but not too obvious. At the same time, they are meticulous to keep the trail to the real still hidden.

Sure enough, with a little help from Buttermilk, Harland and Bo found the decoy still. Buttermilk and Junior even left a broken jar number 13 at the still.

That afternoon the town was buzzing with news that Harland and Bo had busted up another still. No one knew who the still belonged to, or that there was even one in that area. A small group of the people gathered around as Harland and Bo stepped up to the microphone.

“We have found and put an end to yet another illegal moonshine still for the people of north Georgia,” Harland announced.

The gathered crowd applauded the men for their accomplishment, secretly glad it was not one of their family member’s stills.

“Bo and I work tirelessly for you the citizens to keep at bay the evils that alcohol brings with it. We are already moving on to another site we have been made aware of thanks to one of the fine concerned citizens in the area, and will soon remove yet another still from the mountains of north Georgia.”

Buttermilk looked over at Junior with a little grin on his face as they stood in the crowd knowing the truth behind what had happened that day.  They knew Harland and Bo would not bother walking up the near vertical side of the waterfall to the real still site, and that they would move on to the rumored still on Copperhead Road.

Arthur Woody was also staying close to home to protect the deer that he had worked so hard to reintroduce into the mountains from North Carolina. He was bound and determined not to let a poacher interfere with his restocking efforts, just as others were starting to take interest in its success. With any luck, the state government would fund further restocking efforts throughout the state at some point.

Buttermilk and Junior are now able to run their still—and hunt the mature buck—without anyone meddling in their business. One hitch in the plans… neither of the two men had ever hunted a deer before. In fact, neither of them had seen a deer alive before the encounter above the waterfall still.

The mature buck they were hunting did not like that the humans had entered into his bedroom. The smell of the humans was strong. He could smell them easily from the base of the falls.  Even when they are not there, the smell of the fire and smell from the still was strong.

The buck had not survived to be one of the last surviving bucks in state of Georgia by staying close to people. Little did the two men know that the buck had moved his bedding area up the side of the mountain deep into a laurel thicket. From there, he was able to pattern the men just like they thought they were doing to him. He was able to see into his old bedding area where the men had built the still, smell them anytime they were in the area, and the buck could easily escape over the mountain if needed. The buck’s schedule now revolved not only around the rising and setting sun, but also the patterns of the two men.

“Junior, you know we should be seeing some rubs from that old buck by now,” noted Buttermilk.

“Yeah, I know they would need to rub that thar velvet off.  I ‘magine they use the rubs to mark their territory,” Junior said.

“I have not even seen any tracks in all this time that we have been com’n back here. I’m wondr’n if a deer is smart ‘nough to know we are hunt’n it, and he has moved on,” said Buttermilk.

“You think that them critters are that smart? They can’t be. It is just’n old deer. I mean folks have almost killed all of ‘em out of the state,” Junior replied.

“Well, he is not still right around here. That means one of three things. One, he’s been kilt. Two, he’s died of old age… which is what I think happened. Three, he is smarter than we think.”

As the cool of November hits in full force, the leaves begin to fall, and soon the trees will be bare. Buttermilk and Junior start to think less and less about the buck that once consumed their thoughts. Both men were focused on earning money to take care of their families, and on keeping Harland and Bo off their trail. Each time the men head up the creek, they are careful to cover their tracks as they tote in the materials, and when they come out with the products. It has been several weeks since Harland and Bo made the headlines by finding the decoy still. They had been invited to Washington D.C. to receive a promotion and personal congratulations from their boss. They needed to find a still again to feed their need for being in the spotlight. They were starting to look in areas other than Copperhead Road. This was not good news to Buttermilk and Junior, and got even more careful.

The two men had started using different trails to head in to the still to keep people from patterning them, much like the old buck was doing to them. The two decided to walk in along the old wagon road on top of the ridge, it was a track that loggers had used to get some of the timber that was accessible years ago.

The old roadbed had now grown up since the more modern road had been made by the government down the mountain. Once the two reached the gap, they started to walk down toward the spring head and the upper waterfall.

Junior stopped dead in his tracks.

Buttermilk turned to look back when he no longer heard Junior walking.

“What is it Junior?” he asked.

“You didn’t see it? You must be gettin’ blind in your old age. Look at all them rubs on the other side of the fall. I think I now know what happened to our buck. He must have moved onto the other side of the creek when we moved in.”

“Well I guess it was option 3. They mustn’ be smarter than we think,” Buttermilk said.

“Yep. I talked to Old Man Thompson about how he killed that old buck eight years ago that everyone said was the last in the county. He said that these deer have great noses, and they can smell a man a mile away. And you know if we can smell each other, you know he can smell us. He also said they can hear real good, and they will bed up so’s they can watch everything that gets close to them,” Junior said.

“Man! I guess we went about this thing all wrong. You think he is up there watching us now, Junior?”

Little did the two friends know how right they were…

High on the side of the mountain, the buck laid in his bed watching every move the men made, making note of this new route they were taking.

November 2020

Todd climbed down out of his stand overlooking the old still site. The only thing he had seen was two squirrels. As he made his way up to the gap, he could see Chris waiting on him. He then noticed that there was one less arrow in his quiver.

“What did you do Chris? Did you get him?” asked Todd.

“Walk over here with me, and you will see.”

“You did didn’t you!”

As the two friends walked to the other side of the gap along the old logging road, a large black mass was laying just off the road.

“What in the world did you shoot Chris? Oh my goodness! That is the biggest dadgum bear I have ever seen!” said Todd with excitement in his voice.

The two hunters could not believe the size of the bear. They knew it would be almost impossible to get the bear out of the woods without quartering it up. Luckily they had learned from Ranger Sosebee that as long as they brought in the cape from the bear that he could measure it to make sure it was legal to shoot, and he could tag it for them. Both of them knew they were in for a long night. Luckily they knew they were able to get a cell signal in the gap, and could call their parents.

It was not long before both of their fathers were there to help.

At was about 11 o’clock that night when they were finally walking out along the old logging road headed toward the truck.

First thing the next morning, Chris made a phone call to Ranger Sosebee to report the bear he had killed. Ranger Sosebee came by his house. At this point, word had gotten out in the community, and several others had come to see the large boar black bear, including Mr. Taylor.

“Yep, that is the big boar that was eating all of my corn. I have pictures of him, and he is every bit of 400-plus pounds,” Mr. Taylor said. “You boys had to put in some work to get him. I had seen y’all going in the old dirt road on the ridge above the farm. Chris, I might be able to have some corn make for me next year thanks to you, if another one doesn’t move in.”

Officer Sosebee got the measurements he needed to certify the bear.

“Well Brad, go ahead and tell me I am right.”

“Well using measurements cannot tell you the weight as well as weighing the bear whole, but it is 110% legal, and based on the numbers it likely weighed 475 pounds. That number could be off by 10 to 15 pounds either way.”

Chris and Todd could not believe their ears. Did he just say 475 pounds? The friends gave each other a big high five as Ranger Sosebee place the metal tag on the bear making it official.

John Miller from the local paper had arrived in the middle of all the celebration.

“Chris, is it OK if I take your picture and run it in the paper?” John asked.

“Sure, why not,” Chris said with a large smile on his face.

•  •  •

Greasy had just gotten out of jail when he saw on the front page of the paper the photo of Chris and his bear.

“A stupid old bear is what those two were after,” he said aloud to himself. “Who wants a dumb old bear? I want horns. I guess I can stop trying to follow those two and focus on Old Man Taylor’s farm.”

Little did Greasy know that Ranger Sosebee was waiting on him to get out of jail, and the lawman was about to set his plan into motion to finally catch Greasy. He was not the first ranger to try and catch Greasy, and it would go a long way to a promotion—and to help protect the deer in the area—to put him behind prison bars.

Greasy sixth sense was telling him he was being watched, even though he never saw anyone. Little did he know Ranger Sosebee was using various vehicles to start patterning him. Greasy about messed up one night, but something told him not to shine his light into the field, so he just drove on by.

•  •  •

It was now December, and the deer were starting to chase does. Word had gotten out that a large buck had been seen in the fields at Old Man Taylor’s, eating on the leftover beans near the road, and with the leaves off the tree, the buck had been seen eating the spilled corn on the other side of the creek. Greasy even heard one person say that it might even be the largest buck to come from the area, maybe scoring in the upper 150s or 160s. No one remembered a buck like that in that area. Greasy could not take it any longer. He was riding the roads around the Taylor Farm multiple times during the day, and when he knew he was certain that the Ranger was at home, he would spotlight the field.

“If that big old buck is here like they say, maybe those kids were on to him, and they just lucked up on that bear. They did have permission to be on Old Man Taylor’s farm to hunt those worthless old raccoons,” Greasy said to himself. “I wonder if that old buck is bedding somewhere up near that gap near the old logging road I saw them parked at. That is it! Man I am smart.”

The following night, Greasy threw caution to the wind. He was out after the buck. Little did he know Ranger Sosebee was the one that started the story about the buck. The stage was set. Trucks were parked behind Mr. Taylor’s barns, at his house, and at the other end of the farm. A robo deer had been brought in to finally catch Greasy.

Ranger Sosebee and three other Rangers were hiding just off the road with the remote controls.

It was about 1 in the morning when Greasy’s unique sounding truck could be heard coming into the valley. He drove right past the first barn without noticing the truck parked behind the barn. Just as planned, Greasy slowly pulled to a stop. A light turned on and a shaft of bright light bounced across the field. Greasy sees, but passes on all of the does, and he even passes on several small young bucks that most nights would have been shot by now.

Then he saw him. The largest buck he has ever seen was lit up in the light.

As the light illuminated the decoy, a ranger pulled the remote control knob, and the buck’s head turned to look in the direction of the truck. He hit another control, and the buck’s tail came up like it was about to leave the field.

“You ain’t going to get away from me,” Greasy said to himself, raising his rifle.

A shot rang out, echoing through the valley and up the mountain. The deer did not move.

Bang…. Bang!  Two more shots.

Greasy’s shoulders slumped. He knew now what had happened. Just then Ranger Sosebee and the other officers hit him with their lights, ordering him to cut off the engine.

But going back to jail was the last thing Greasy planned to do this night.

The engine roared to life.

“Suspect fleeing. All trucks block the roads. He is running west, and he is armed!” Brad announced over the radio.

Greasy neared the old farm house and saw a green truck with blue lights flashing blocking the road. He swung hard, whipping the truck around heading back toward town. It had never crossed his mind he only had two ways out of the valley. As he rounded the corner near where he shot, a second truck was now blocking the road.

Greasy knew he was cornered. He braked it to a stop, cut the engine off, and stepped out of his truck.

“Put your hands up where we can see them Greasy!” Ranger Sosebee ordered.

As one of the other rangers went to put the handcuffs on him, Greasy turned and knocked the ranger out. One of the other rangers deployed his stun gun. Greasy was still standing as the second ranger used his stun gun. With that Greasy went to the ground in the middle of the road. Ranger Sosebee placed his handcuffs on Greasy.

“Greasy, you have made the biggest mistake of your life. You are under arrest.”

Ranger Sosebee finished reading him his rights as he placed him in the back of the one of the police cars that had arrived at the scene, just as Mr. Taylor pulled up after hearing all the commotion that had gone on.

You could hear Mrs. Taylor in the truck saying, “John now you let them do their job you hear me. John! John! I know you hear me John!”

“Good job Brad,” Mr. Taylor said to Ranger Sosebee. “I am proud of you. You have done something none of the other rangers up here have been able to do. This means the world to me. Thank you for working so hard. I plan to make a phone call in the morning to your boss to let him know about how grateful I am,” said Mr. Taylor.

The next morning, word was spreading fast through town that Greasy had been arrested for shooting at a deer decoy.

Chris texted Todd, “Did you hear about Greasy?”

“Yeah. That means we are in the clear again and do not have to worry about him taking the easy way out shooting a great buck at night. You ready to get after it?”

 

The Conclusion of “Traditions”