The coastland times., 1959-01-16
DOWN
TO
EARTH
BY
CARLTON
MORRIS
Editor. The Index
GatesviIls. N. c.
CAN'T KISS A BOY BIG
ENOUGH TO GO HUNTING

MUvvER HAD insisted on
making him wear heavy coat
and his cap with the ear muffs
for the autumn air gets real sharp
late in the afternoon. He didn't
protest the heavy clothing because
it was his very first hunting trip
and that can be an event when
boy is not quite six. He was very
excited and happy.
ALMOST as soon as he got into
the woods, briar sprang out and
scratched his cheek. Like a little
puppy, he couldn't hold back a
squeal of pain, but he wouldn't
cry because he wanted me to
think he was big boy and he
was smart. He was thinking ahead
to other days and other hunts and
if he acted like a sissy, he might
be left home next time.
WALKING along the woods
path, he looked down at the green
moss. A little boy does not have
to explain everything, especially
if his dad was once little boy
and he was much interested in
the green moss. Look dad," he
said, "they are little pine trees"
AND SURE enough the green
moss did look exactly like pro-
fusion of green pine trees, and so
l told him they were pines and he
was very smart to notice them.
l CARRIED him piggy back
over a thick place for l couldn't
stand for another briar to scratch
his cheeks, but l couldn't carry
his very far for that would be
beneath the dignity of a boy big
enough to go hunting with his
dad.
HE WANTED a gun like mine
so l gut a green gum and left a
short length of limb on it for a
trigger and ne marched with it on
his shoulder at the exact angle l
was carrying mine. When l took
my rifle off my shoulder and
walked quietly around a big oak,
he took his gum stick off his
shoulder and marched around the
, tree right behind me and squinted
up to its towering branches.
Looking down at his serious face,
l had difficult task in refrain
ing from gathering him up in my
arms, but you can't kiss a boy
who is big enough to go hunting,
! at least not while he is hunting
with sweet gum stick.
AFTER a while we saw some
crows. They were a long way off,
but | decided to try shot at
them anyway. They are the smart
est birds alive and about the
hardest to sneak up on so didn't
waste any time, but took quick
aim and fired. A crow trumbled
out of the tree and we hurried
through the woods to the spot
where he fell, but when we got
there, l couldn't remember the
tree and we couldn't find him.
THE SUN was far down the
horizon and we had wandered
away from the path when he de-
cided we were lost. l have no idea
where he ever learned the word
"lost," but he said we were lost.
l asked him if he was tired and
he said he was, but he wouldn't
let me carry him. In the gather
ing gloom, his brown eyes looked
almost black and he was a little
frightened by the long shadows.
He talked almost in a whisper. eff
it comes night" he said, they'll
come find u.s."
SOON we were back on the
path and he came again to the
green moss and he remembered it.
"We're not lost after ALL" he said
and his voice began to sound nat
ural again.
WHEN WE reached the car we
had not seen a single, solitaire
squirrel. That didn't trouble him
and he placed his sweet gum stick
in the back seat exactly parallel
with my rifle and soon we were
home with two big appetites for
Muvver to satisfy. Excitedly he
told her about the hunt, how the
bliar scratched him and how /
shot the crow, but couldn't find
him. "Did you shoot squirrel"
Muvver asked. Women are like
that. They can ask the most fool
ish questions, but little boys soon
learn to ignor them. "No Muv-
ver,' he told her, IL didn't even
have any bullets for my gun"
i FOR A time he was lost in deep
thought and then he looked up at
US. His baby face was screwed up
in all seriousness. II feel sorry
for that buzzard daddy shot," he
1,sI