A MISSOURI HUNTER
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A MISSOURI HUNTER

A MISSOURI HUNTER




      

A MISSOURI HUNTER


A MISSOURI HUNTER

I am a hunter and trapper. I hunt with hounds and I have two hounds, black and tan. They are good trailers; one of them is a good skunk dog and when he hits a skunk trail he is a gone skunk, and they tree 'coon and opossum and squirrels. I began to hunt when I was eight years old and I am now twenty-five, and I have had some exciting hunts and some adventures. I have a .32 caliber revolver and a 10-shot .32 W. C. F. Winchester and a Stevens "Favorite." One night my partner Miller came by and one of his friends Came along with him and he said, "Let's go to the Tipton Bluff and capture a skunk." I said, "I don't think we would have much luck, it is so windy to-night." But still he wanted to go, so I got my horn, my hound and my .22 rifle and for the Tipton Bluff we started. We went about two miles, but had started no trail. "Let's go back, Frank," I said, when "Bow! wow! wow!" and all broke on the run and Frank's little half hound had a skunk bayed and my old hound had another trail going. Well, Frank ran up to the dog, picked up a club and struck at the skunk; but it got

out of his way, and his club broke in two and he struck at it again and it threw its musk and some of it lit on my pal's nose and in his eyes and he went calling the dogs and calling for help, for fear the skunk would get away. He said some hard words to the skunk. Finally I got through laughing and got a club and killed the skunk, and it was a nice No. 1 short stripe. When Pal got his eyes cleaned up so he could see, his friend was just roaring with laughter and Pal said to him, "It's not so funny."

Well, my hound had gone out of hearing and we walked for about a mile in the direction we thought he had gone and soon we heard him barking treed. We went down and he was treed in a log. I took the lantern and looked in and there was another Uncle Skunk. I got a long, straight pole and ran into the log and gave a big gouge and knocked Mr. Skunk out and the old hound soon made quick work with him. Then we started back home and had gone about a mile and a half when my old hound started another trail. He trailed it for about three-quarters of a mile and barked treed. We got to him and there was the biggest opossum I ever saw. We got him and dug for home for that night; but Pard had not got in a good humor with his skunk yet.

Clarence C. Mitchener.

Benton County, Missouri.

Fur, News. Fur News, January 1916.

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