After Uncle Dick left the gin-house, the boys stood for a long time holding their horses by the bridle, watching the operation of skinning the panthers, and wondering what they should do next. It was not yet twelve o’clock, and there was a whole afternoon before them to be passed in some way. Eugene, who did not care much what he did so long as he was in motion, suggested that hunting wild-turkeys was fine sport; but as the snow that had fallen the night before had already disappeared, and the chances of tracking turkeys on the bare ground were slim indeed, the Club said they would rather not attempt it. Featherweight reminded them of the ’coon-hunt they had decided upon the night before; but Walter declared that it was not to be thought of. After killing two panthers, and defying Bayard Bell and his crowd of fellows, ’coon-hunting would be very tame sport. They must have something more exciting.
“Well, den, I tells you what you kin do, Marse Walter,” said one of the negroes, looking up from his work; “you ’members dem wild hogs that wasn’t druv up last fall kase we couldn’t cotch ’em?”
“Yes!” cried the boys in concert.
“I knows right whar they uses,”[1] continued the negro.
[1] In the South and West this word is used in the same sense as frequent. If a hunter says that wild animals “use” any particular portion of the woods, he means that they are generally to be found there.
“Now, that’s the very idea!” said Perk, excitedly. “There’s plenty of sport in wild-hog hunting, and I move that we start out at once. Where shall we go to find the hogs, uncle?”
“You knows whar de ole bee-tree is?” replied the negro. “It’s holler, you know. Well, dar dey is—fo’ on ’em—mighty big fellers, too, an’ savage, kase I seed ’em yesterday when I went out fur to fotch up the mules.”
“Let’s be off, fellows,” repeated Perk, impatiently.
“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until to-morrow and make a day of it?” asked Walter. “We’ll get some of the darkies to help us, and take the cart along to haul the game home in.”