"They shore am poor. Them's old man Lewis'. He lives down the crick below here. This time last year he turned them out to eat the mast. After the mast was gone he still let them run and would go out with a basket of corn and feed them. He's dumb, he can't holler. He called them by pounding with a rock on a dead snag. Since the woodpecker's came this spring them fool hawgs have nigh 'bout run themselves to death."
"Here, boy, take your gun; there's a squirrel."
"That's right; give her here."
"He's a nice fat one."
"Yes, there's plenty of nuts now."
"I don't believe I would reload her now; there's the house."
"Mr. Cornwall, I'll loan you my gun tomorrow and you can go hunting."
"You better let me have her all the time we are surveying the land."
"All right."
Cornwall was met at the gate by Mary and her mother; they both seemed pleased to see him. Caleb took his horse to the barn and, removing the saddle, turned him loose for a roll in the dusty lot. Then he was put in a box stall and given three sheaves of oats.