Download Bounty of Texas (Publications of the Texas Folklore Society) by Francis Edward Abernethy PDF

By Francis Edward Abernethy

In addition to recollections of trapping and looking within the monstrous Bend of West Texas throughout the Twenties and Thirties, this Texas Folklore Society ebook incorporates a heretofore unpublished open air comic strip by means of J. Frank Dobie on deer looking and a section by means of Bertha McKee Dobie on Frank’s curiosity in grasses. Elmer Kelton, Joyce Roach, and Robert Flynn take a funny examine their paintings and hometowns, and Kenneth Davis tells stories of souls departing their our bodies. There are essays at the bounty of the tables of the sooner settlers, and the state’s ethnic heritages during the German Volksfest in Brenham. The folk-song scholarship of Dorothy Scarborough, the artwork of Ben Mead, a glance at felony language, and lots more and plenty extra are incorporated during this bountiful book.

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Then Frank passed through the camp like a falling star, but he got his brakes on when he got out of the light on the other side, and swinging around he bounded back to the fire and collapsed on his bedroll. He was white as a sheet and drops of sweat as big as watermelon seeds were pouring off him, even if the temperature was way below freezing. His clothes were in rags, and he had some deep as well as shallow cuts and scratches from his ankles to his eyes. He was trembling like a leaf, and his eyes were bulging out like peeled grapes!

He coughed and spat constantly. He did no workhis wife and stepdaughters did thatbut moped up and down the river hunting squirrels or sitting against a tree just smoking, coughing, and spitting. Charlie Buck was considered a bad man to have any kind of dealings with because he was entirely without scruples or conscience. Rumor said that he was a coldblooded killer who had, when younger, hired his gun or knife to the highest bidder. All I know was it sure gave you a chill to be busy at something and have him "ghost" up behind you and utter that low growl which passed as his voice.

I also knew that he was just at the edge of our camp as they came running in, watching to see if they dug up any pearls! He knew I was out there somewhere, not knowing if I would kill him or not, and the boys not wasting time to hunt the pearls probably saved our lives. We walked the twenty miles into Christoval by daylight. I picked out six nice pearls, and we sold them to the local jeweler as soon as he opened his store. Though they were worth much more and all of us knew it, we accepted $150.

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