Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1912-01-31
HUNTING
MOLLY COTTONTAIL,
By Frederic ]. Haskin.

By Frederic ]. Haskin.
Familiar to every country born boy
In the land is the spectacle of a gene.
raj assortment of dogs Of high and
low degree, reinforced by a yelling
pack Of lusty youngsters, armed with
sticks and stones, joining In pursuit
of that classic quarry, the feet-footed
molly Cototntail."
Every hunter, as a matter of fact,
began his hunting with a rabbit, for
tho cotton-tail falls victim to his two
legged enemy long before that hope
full Is the proud owner Of rifle, an
air gun or a single-barreled shotgun.
Every boy that gets genuine square
deal in his life has a dog, and the
greatest dog in the world for any boy
Is a rabbit dog. The term Is a broad
and general one. Almost any kind
of dog viii, run a rabbit, with vary
ing degrees Of success, depending on
the size Of the dog, his speed, and the
nature Of the ground in which the
quarry is jumped. What Is more
picturesque than a field full Of hap
py youngsters, lined up like a row Of
pickets, as they scour across the stub.
BILE behind nondescript bunch Of
CANNES, each looking for the supreme
moment when a rabbit shall be jump
ed. None Of them owns a gun, the
authorities at home having ruled that
guns shall come later on in life, but
what cares the kid just so he gets
rabbit meat?
The onward march Is not without
result, for presently wire-haired
cur routs a rabbit from his warm bed
at the foot of some weeds, a brown
form gives leap, a cur dog gives
tongue, the rest Of the pack joins in
the animal chorus and then each boy
employs pair Of lusty lungs to swell
the music. while brown fash carry
nearest fence. Every pair Of Juvenile
eyes, each doggish nose and doggish
eye, follow the course of that rabbit
and it must be wry old "field mule
that can dart into shelter from which
that crowd cannot roust him.
"Come on, fellers," yells leader
Of the attacking party, "he's in that
brush pile" Then one by one, fee,
fox terrier, pointer, setter, coon dog.
'possum dog, hound and all, Joined at
intervals by a boy all out of breath.
surround that brush pile with its
| frightened inmate what chance hes
that rabbit to get away? Noh the
slightest. Flanked on every aido,
Molly Cottontail has but to wait for
the finish. 1t is coming, swiftly and
surely. Every kid grabs piece OF
brush and tosses 1t aside. Each dog
sentinel-lile, takes a position about
grows the brown and tangled heap
and nearer and nearer that rabbit
draws toward the final curtain. Not
much more Of the pile is left, and a
youngster mounts 1t In q jiffy and
begins to jump up and down for dear
life.
watch ont, fellers," he yells in
warning admonitiOn. Hell be COM
ing out In a minute" and tighter
grows the Gordon about the prisoner.
Each dog hears and understands
thoroughly the boyish tip, and with a
new manifestation of alertness,
watches the brush pile.
Here he comcs!" yells sharp
break for liberty and the great cho-
rus Of yells and barks and yelps
breaks out afresh. The contest Is
brief. Confused, the cottontail darts
this way only to encounter a dog and
a boy. He turns yonder and Is con-
fronted by others, and that very turn
cost him dear, for in jiffy cur dog
and brown form merge into one fly
ing image, yellow and brown and a
white dot. mingle in swiftly moving
picture, brown-gray fur floats In the
air, there's squeal of despair, q
chorus Of joyous shouting, that rabbit
Is snatched from the Jaws Of a cur
and proud youngster Is carrying
him by the hind legs. That rabbit Is
meat.
Every country boy has been a men,
Der OF Just such a chorus in boy
hoods happy days. Long before he