Lower coast gazette., 1913-10-18
of a Game
Warden.
BY Charles Tenney Jackson.

BY Charles Tenney Jackson.
When Bob Manson turned in a some
what pessimistic report about the stop
ping of deer-killing on the edge OF the
deep swamp, Willett> the warden, was
not greatly surprised. If the hunters
could not hunt along the ancient fields,
they could waylay the deer with fam.
beaux on the trails.
But / think We can adopt their own
tricks, and come into the B~arataria
woods from the back and surprise
them," said Bob Manson.
There isn't enough. water in these
winter tides" Willett decilared. mo
body but a pirogue-runner, and a good
one at that, can get in from Bayou Aux
Dies-and once over the trembling
prairie and into the swamp, it would
take a cajun to find his way out. The
Game Commission has never ordered
us to go and get ourselves lost in the
big cypress swamp, Bob. There's
plenty to do %outside!"
But the young engineer was not dis
suaded. The launch was on the ways
for repairs; he had little to do, and
he sought some plan for stopping the
hunters furays from tho dcep svanaP
The launch would be Of no use in any
case. The great shoal salt "prairies"
behind the cypress swamps would bear
nothing except the native pirogues-
light, slender craft made of followed
logs that the trappers alternately pad
died and dragged.
Bob stopped off at "Old Man Cap
tain" Johnson's camp on Little Bara,
taria, and laid out his plan for getting
evidence of Misunderstanding in the
cypress swamp. Old Man Captain had
guided the wardens on many an ad-
venture, and was always ready for
more. And when Bob told him his
suspicion that the worst offenders were
old Pierre's gang, the same outlaws
who had handcuffed the guide and the
engineer the summer before, and who
had turned them adrift in the marsh.
es, the old Confederate's blue eyes
flashed.
THAT scoundrel again?" he cried.
He's kept we'll in the swamp ever
since he did US up, Bob-but If we
could get him! I'd guide you in any
swamrhole if you and Mr.. Wiilett
could get Pierre into law again."
Dug Harding and l are pretty sure
his crown are i%acklighting deer back
there. The trade boat brought up fit.
teen deer pelts last week, and we
couldn't get any straight account Of
them. But Willett hasn't any fancy
for going into the cypress swamp. Cap
tain, it's up to you and me. II we get
evidence, Willett will organize a raid.
But we've got to find Pierre's camp, as
WE'LL"
Old Man Captain looked at the gar
den truck %sprouting round his palm
shack. He thought he had retired to
a peaceful life. well, Bob, I'll do
it. If any white man a get you into
the swamp, Pm the one! We won't
say anything about it round the set
Element, though. If l bother the ma
tives too much. they'll burn me out
some night
Four nights later, the old guide and
Bob found themselves in the waterly
salt prairie with as slender an Uutnt
as they had ever travelled with. They
had each a trapper's pirogue. and
enough rice, hard bread, and bacon to
last a week. Besides those things,
they had a tiny clay furnace and 9 sack
of charcoal; for in the trembling prai-
ries of Louisiana there is not 9 stick
for a cooking fire.
While they cooked supper, Old Man
Captain sat watching the dim blue
wall of the Barataria woods. many
miles to the north. Bob, you're q
pretty good pirogue-runner, but II we
get into a race, you won't last with
that heavy old canoe of yours. Pierre's
youngest boy, Florion, is said to have
the fastest and lightest boat in the
bayous. He can pick it up by the
nose in one hand, and a dozen traps
in the other and snake It along over
hogs where you and l would mlre to
our our necks. And when he hits open
water! Well, he scoots!"
Bob laughed. He had heard lnucl