San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-03-20


yellow and almost ready for the knife, he
forest that skirted the new ground" and
thought about the possums fattening in it.
"You better be a sooplin' Of yo'se'f, ole
boy" he would say to Juba, who was as
usual, following close upon his heels down the
tobacco row, you better be a sooplin' yo'sef,
case possums is powerful sassy and peart in
'simmon time"
The dark of the moon is the traditional
season among the negroes for postum and
coon hunting, and the night after the turn"
found dozen or more stalwart negroes at
Uncle Moses cabin ready for the projected
hunt. Some carried torches, others axes to
cut down trees, if necessary, or to clear a
way through the underbrush. A score or so
of mongrel dogs yelped and sprung around in
anxious expectancy. AS usual, Uncle Nose
with Juba, alert but quiet, at his heels stood
in the midst Of the group, and it was he who
led, striking out down the path towards the
woods.
1t was picturesque group enough, as they
threaded their way through the dim paths Of
the forest. The light showed the 1.-the, strong
figures of the men; it glinted on the bright
axes thrown over their strong shoulders; it
showed the glancing forms of the dogs, hurry
ing hither and thither through the under
brush The air was sweet with the odors of
the night, and the silence was only broken by
deep, mellow laugh from negro throat, or
the sharp yelp of dog, or the rattle of nuts.
as the wind shook scaly bark tree
Presently there was deep, bass note that
thrilled every pulse as only hunters pulse
can thrill at the presence of game 1t was
JUDAS bark, and they knew he never failed
The first possum had been freed, and they
broke into sharp run, in answer to the sum-
mons
"Hiyi, wese got you now, ole hairy" ex-
claimed one.
Don't come none yo' & az tries on u.s."
cried another; "you'se dus de same ez in de
pot now"
1t was even so. In an instant stalwart
fellow had climbed the tree and shaken the
hairy little beast down among the dogs, from
whom it was with difficulty rescued. A cleft
stick was procured, the possum's long tail in
serted, and the party moved on, following in
the wake of the dogs.
Possums were plentiful that night. Nose
complained that "'twaint no fun when dey
are jest settin round on de logs lax deys han
KERN to be put in de pot"
He found it difficult to keep up with his
younger companions, and by and by he
turned back homeward With the faithful
Juba at his heels and the fat possum swing
ing over his shoulder he walked on, content
edly thinking of his morrow's dinner. Pres
emily he became conscious that it was grow
ing very dark. The clear starlit dusk was all
blotted out, and he could hear the grooming
Of the trees as they trembled and shivered at
the approaching tempest. In another instant,
as it seemed to him, the storm had broken
with all its fury over him. The thunder rat
tied and rOared, the lightning blinded him,
and he could hear the crash of the trees as
the fierce wind tore them from their roots.
Dazed and frightened, the old man stumbled
along, falling over roots and torn by briers.
At last, by a flash of lightning, he saw that
he was just standing without the little white
painted ncighborhood church. Ordinarily
nothing could have overcome his superstitious
fears sufficiently to induce him to enter a
church at midnight, but in his present plight
he welcomed any shelter, and pushing open
tho door he CROPPED his way up the narrow
aisle and crouched down beside the altar
Juba lay at his feet and licked in mute
sympathy the hand that caressed his shaggy
head Through the unshuttered windows
every flash of lightning showed the cleaning
white stones of the grave yard that almost
surrounded the little church Uncle Nose
shuddered. There was the tall marble shaft
that marked the grave of a negro trader
Every night, it was said, his spirit walked
the earth, tortured by the tears and groans
and broken neartS of the mothers from
whom he had torn babies, by the curses of
the wives he had torn from their husbands
arms. Even hell would not hold so vile
soul. There was the tiny grave of an unbap-
tiled infant who cried because it could not
enter heaven. There, horribly distinct in the
flash Of binding light, was the unmarked
grave of man who murdered his brother
There was-God in heaven! what was that
wild white fase at the Window The old man
staggered to his feet, but the apparition was
gone He would go out again into the night
Better the widest storm than this ghost
haunted place.
He turned toward the door, but there,
standing in the gallery that ran across the
back of the church, over the very door
through which he must pass, was the white,
ghostly thing.
Uncle Moses heart stood still with fear; his