The ground under the old hickory tree was covered with hulls and nut shells. The squirrels had been having days of feasting on the abundance provided by this very large old Hickory tree. As he walked up, .22 in hand, he could smell the hickory nut smell hanging heavy in the air.
Two rat terriers were “treed solid” and looking up into the heavy foilage above. Dillon the retired drug dog was sitting a few feet back from all of the rowdy activity of the terriers. He looked over his shoulder towards him, as he arrived, as if to say, “come on, we ain’t got all day here !”
As he approached, he had passed by an old rock fence, and had thought to himself, “hey I didn’t know there was an old house place here”.
Dillon was sitting on a mound of dirt and rocks that was likely the remains of the old cabin’s chimney and fireplace. Sticking up out of the ground nearby was the remains of an old fireplace grate made from wagon wheel rim material. Some blacksmith’s work was still holding up well.
Thinking to himself, “this squirrel will be hard to fetch, up in that heavy leaf cover”, he took time to look the old house place over.
The next thing about the old house place that he located was the “root cellar”.
He grinned to myself as he remembered what a dark, smelly, scarey place a cellar could be for a mountain child that had been sent for a jar of preserves.
The door would squeal in protest when opened, then the dank smells would almost over power you as you entered the cellar.
The last thing you herd as you left for the jar of preserves was, ” I saw a snake last time I was in there, you be careful ! ”
Then as you stepped down the rickety steps into the darkness, a spider web wrapped around your face !
His daydream was shattered as a terrier nudged him as if to say ” you gona’ get this squirrel, or what ?”