General Stories About Hunting

1. The Beginning

2. Can't Wait But I Have To

3. Opening Day

4. Season Ends

5. Bo's

6. The Doemaster

7. The Gobblemaster

1. Three Fingers

2. Big Bad Mama Jama

3. Back To Where It All Began

4. Christening the Crossbow

1."If You Have Him Hollerin' Don't Start Follerin'."

Bo's

My grandmother owned 100 acres in Greene Co for years. The land is about 12 miles away from her farm house (her house sits on 80 acres),  so she 'hired' an older black man named Bo to oversee the property. This was back in the fifties when Bo first settled on the land. He built a house, dug a well, built goat pins, chicken coops & planted about 20 acres with various crops... all with no rent or lease or anything. All my grandmother wanted was for him to watch her property & make some rounds once in a while. My dad hunted & trapped the property & when I came along I started hunting there to. I remember pulling up & Bo would be sitting on the porch in a homemade chair. He used to tell me stories of a giant Coyote that was missing one toe that would slip in solo & kill his goats. I don't know about the Coyote, but his goats were turning up half eaten or completely gone (from the pin). Something was ripping through the chicken wire on the pin At least once every 10 days or so & I did see coyote tracks. My dad later confirmed the existence of a big coyote that got into one of his traps & lost a toe. Anyway, Bo was part of our family for years. We actually refer to the property as Bo's to this day. He passed away in the mid-80's & all that's left of the house is a hand stacked chimney, & some flowers around the perimeter. I went down one afternoon to hunt the property 4 years ago by myself. I parked at the old house place & started down the trail by the goat pin which is still standing. I hadn't got into the woods more than 30 feet when I walked through a cold spot. Ya know, like the cold spots in the river when you're swimming... I froze in my tracks. I didn't hear anything, that was the problem... no squirrels, no birds, no wind, just dead silence. That's when I knew something or someone was watching me. I don't know if it was 'Ol 3 Toe slipping around the goat pin or Bo making his rounds, but I do know I was not alone. Needless to say I didn't hunt that day & I haven't been back alone since.      

Written By Donny McCaa