(Submitted by Willie
The Mountain Eagle
December 21, 1898
It was Wednesday of last week and a bright clear day. There were three in
the party and the scene was on Blackwater. They had started deer hunting,
walking in single file with Uncle Leroy in the lead and Keno, the faithful
dog, bringing up the rear. 'I believe we are going to get one this time,
boys. I just feel it in my bones,' says Uncle Leroy. 'Jasper, you make the
drive, Jotty and I will go to the stands'. 'All right,' replied Jasper.
'Pap, which stand do you want?' asked Jot. 'You can have choice'. 'Well, I
don't know whether I can kill a deer or not. Guess it would excite me so I
would forget to shoot. Any will do me'. The question of the stand being
settled each took their position and awaited results.
Presently Jot heard Keno's distant bay and a noise to his right caused him
to glance in that direction, and up dashed a fine buck. In a flash he threw
his gun to his shoulder and fired. The deer continued on as fast as ever.
'Lookout, Pap', cried Jot at the top of his lungs. 'He is coming your way'.
Instead of looking, Uncle Leroy ran to Jot as fast as his legs would take
him. 'What is the matter?' he gasped as soon as he recovered sufficient
breath. 'Did you kill one?" 'Do hush, Pap, till you get your breath, and
then talk. I shot at a big one, but I don't think I touched it'. 'I'll see,'
replied Uncle Leroy and off he bounded. 'Yes, you did hit him, here is lots
of blood'. And with a loud, piercing yell, he increased his speed the way
the deer had gone. 'Here he is! Here he is!' came Uncle Leroy's voice like
that of a Comanche Indian from over the hills. When Jot got to him he was
standing within a few feet of the deer with his gun cocked, aiming at it.
'What are you doing, Pap?' asked Jot. 'Oh, I just wish he would move a foot
or ear or bat his eye, so I could shoot him. I want to shoot one so bad'.
says Uncle Leroy, taking some note of his son's esquiry as the deer, a fine
8-point buck was stone dead. Uncle Leroy was finally prevailed on to put up
his gun. Jasper was called and the fine prize was carried home.
Leroy Williams and his son, Jot, lived in the Boldo Community of Walker
Jasper Dowdey was Leroy's son-law having married Leroy's daughter, Bertie