The Turnbo Manuscripts
by Silas Claiborne Turnbo
1844-1925
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TAKING A DEAD DEER HOME ON A JACK AND HOW A BEAR CAPTURED
A BEE COURSE
By S. C. Turnbo
We have mentioned Bill Riddle in three other chapters and refer to him again
in this one. He came to White River from Decatur County, Tennessee, with
John Jones, his step-father, in 1857. He was born in Henderson County in
that state December 30, 1840. Mr. Riddle was an industrious young man and
worked hard for himself as well as for those that employed him. In August,
1859, he married Miss Martha Smith, daughter of Hue Smith, an early resident
of Taney County, Mo., who lived on the east side of Shoal Creek about two
miles south of the present site of Protem, "Chat" Sallee, a Methodist
preacher, officiating. I remember that several of us young people received
a special invitation to be present at the wedding. It was just after dark
when the young couple were married. As soon as the ceremony was performed
we were all invited to sit down to an old fashioned wedding supper. Riddle’s
parents were Nathan and Elizabeth (Hub) Riddle. His father died in Tennessee.
After the death of his father his mother married John Jones. During the
greater part of the Civil War Mr. Riddle served in the army as a confederate
soldier. After the close of hostilities he drifted to the mouth of James
Fork of White River then to Long Creek where he has lived many years 12
miles below Carrollton, Ark. Mr. Riddle relates two little stories of hunting
which we deem worthy to be preserved. One of them had its origin on the
east side of James River in what is now Stone County, Mo. Mr. Riddle said
the year following the close of the war tame meat was a scarce article in
that section and the few inhabitants depended on their rifles for a supply
of wild meat. "One morning," said he," I went out into the
forest for a fresh supply of venison. I waded through the tangled grass
and weeds wet with dew for three miles before seeing any game worth wasting
a load of ammunition on, when I seen a large buck. I carried a double barrel
shot gun and I discharged the contents of one barrel at it which gave the
animal a wound only. The deer must have been angry before I shot it for
at the report of the gun it came toward me on a run, snorting in a vicious
way. When the antlered beast had run to within ten steps of where I stood
I let fly the load out of the other barrel of my gun and the buck fell.
The animal proved to be too large and fat for me to carry it home alone
and after taking out its entrails I went to Jim Sims’ who lived two
miles away and borrowed his old Jack to take the buck home on. One of Sims’
boys and a young man of the name of Sam Johnson, son of Martin Johnson,
come back with me. The old Jack looked like he was too lazy to be disturbed
by the bite of a horsefly or the stings from the sharp bills of a swarm
of mosquito, but when we went to put the dead buck on his back a whole lot
of fun commenced. The old fellow brayed and kicked like a young mule and
bucked like a mustang pony. The sight of the dead buck had converted the
life of the sleeping beast into one of sprightliness. He seemed determined
not to carry the deer. We coaxed, threatened and scolded him, but no use.
He refused to allow us to load the deer on him. We worked for an hour but
the Jack was stubborn and refused to give it up. We devised several plans
to compel him to carry it but it did no good until I fell on a better one.
I pulled off my shirt which was all the one I possessed at that time and
blindfolded him with it and he soon relapsed into the same dead lazy look
before we tried to raise the buck on his back. He was now as docile as a
gentle oxen and looked as innocent as a young sheep. He stood as quiet as
a ship in a dead calm while we were securing the deer to the pack saddle
on his back. We had no more trouble with him and I landed the deer safe
at home." In furnishing the other story Mr. Riddle said that an old
settler had a funny experience with a bear one day while he was out bee
hunting, the account of which was given by him as follows. "Tilman
Boyd was one of the first settlers on Long Creek and was a famed hunter.
Bee hunting was his speciality. Bee trees were so numerous that it was little
trouble and much less expense to furnish his table with an abundance of
wild honey, but on a certain occasion a bear interrupted him so suddenly
that he did not take time to contend for a bee course that he was almost
in the act of following. "Mr. Boyd has been dead several years,"
said Mr. Riddle, "but I have heard him relate the incident so often
that I remember the story word for word and this is the way he told it.
‘One day,’ said he, ‘while bear here on Long Creek were plentiful
and bee trees more plenty, I went into the woods to make a raise of wild
honey for my supply was nearly exhausted. Our tables in those days looked
sortie lonesome unless a vessel of some sort was placed on it filled with
nice strained honey. Children as well as grown people delighted to sop their
corn "dodgers" in it. After leaving the house a short distance
I passed into a hollow near Sid Hulsey’s old mill stand where I stopped
and put out bee bait by burning some pieces of bee comb to attract the bees.
As usual it was not long before bees began to appear and sip at the comb.
Very soon after the first ones made their appearance they came from various
directions and after filling themselves from the bait would fly away in
as many directions. After awhile hundreds of them had collected and a stream
of bees were coming and going all the time. They were so thick that it was
a hard matter for me to decide on following one certain course of them.
I sat and watched the busy workers some time before I thought of starting
out to locate one of their abodes. Then I heard a racket on the hillside
above me which I imagined was a deer running. I had no dog or gun with me.
I had come out to hunt bee trees and did not want to be bothered with a
rifle or dog either. At first I paid but little attention to the fuss. But
the racket growed louder and nearer. Whatever it might be it was coming
toward me at a fast gait. But owing to the shape of the hillside I could
not see the object that created the noise until it approached closer to
me. I quit coursing bees now and watched and listened with an attentive
ear. I did not wait more than 3 or 4 seconds longer when a huge bear made
his appearance and rushed at me as straight as a bee could fly. His mouth
was wide open. His lips were turned wrong side out. His ugly teeth almost
glistened. I was astonished at the boldness of his bearship but I knew it
was no time for foolishness. The Bible says there is a time for everything
and it was time for me to run and I vacated that spot in no slow manner.
I did some of the best running from that bear that I ever did in my life.
If Bruin pursued me I did not see or hear him. The truth is I never took
time to stop and look back. I never halted until I arrived home. I ventured
back the following day with dog and gun to investigate. His bearship had
retired but evidence indicated that he took charge of the bait for awhile
at least. But suppose he did not try to follow any of the bees home. No
doubt the bear was attracted by the odor emitted by the burning bee comb
and probably thinking a hunter had a nice supply of honey on hand and he
would run a bluff game on him and take it. His stratagem was a success as
far as frightening me away was concerned, but he got no honey. This was
the only time a bear ever captured a lot of bee courses from me,’ said
Mr. Boyd."
This incident occurred in Carroll County, Ark.
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