We never owned a light. We walked that trail in total darkness. You could tell when you were out of the trail because of the brush on both sides. We were barefooted and most of the time you couldn't see the person walking in front of you. Sometimes I would stop and let the person walking behind me run into me, for a gag.
Old Sputter was always outside the church waiting and watching for us to come out. He would go first and we would line up on the trail behind him. We could not see him but we knew he was there.
We would hear him killing a snake in the trail ahead of of us. We would stop and listen. When we couldn't hear him anymore, we knew the snake was dead. We would continue on.
The way he killed a bad snake was worth watching. I have seen him do it hundreds of times.
He was very smart and fast. He knew how dangerous the snake was.
He would circle the snake a few times. confusing him. He would jump at the snake, then back out of the snake's reach. He would fake the snake out until he caught him stretched out. Then, like lightning he would move in, grabbing the snake with his teeth. He would sling him like crazy You could hear the snake popping up against the dog's body He was whipping himself with the snake. It was so fast you couldn't see the snake until he threw him down. If the snake showed signs of life he would grab him and repeat the treatment. The snake would soon be unjoined, burst open in places, and helpless. He would kill from one to a dozen in front of us on our way home from church.
As Old Sputter grew older he could not move as fast and his eyes weren't as good. The snakes took advantage of this. He was bitten several times and lived over it. He was a mighty tough dog and he knew we needed him. The snakes finally got him. I did not see the snake that killed Old Sputter I know he was dead, for Old Sputter would never have walked away from him if he hadn't been. He hated snakes and fought them until he died.
It was a terrible day for me when he died. I dug him a grave and gave him a nice burial. I made him a tombstone out of wood. I took a piece of wire and heated one end red hot then burned his picture and his name on the tombstone .
I was putting this up on the head of the grave when a long-time friend of mine came to see me. Mother told him I was down at the dog's grave. He came down there. He saw the head board and started laughing. I hit him somewhere alongside the head and layed him flat on the ground. He was still on the ground in shock. I told him it was wrong for him to laugh at my feelings toward my dog.
I told him, "Now, you can see what can happen when you do something wrong."
Davie and Albert Crabtree Smokey's Mother and Dad.
Albert Crabtree, Smokey’s Dad with his Ford car. Dad could not bring his car home with him except a few months during the dry part of the year. It was left at the home of a friend two miles away.
This is our house, mentioned in the beginning, the fireplace and chimney built of mud, grass and slats. There are beautiful flowers next to the house, though not in color they look like weeds, I know.
Chapter Three
I am just like Old Sputter in some of my ways. I am not afraid of man or beast. I am willing to die if I have to in order to protect the ones I love from getting bitten by a snake.
I was only a child when I found out for sure that all snakes don't crawl around on their bellies. Some of them walk upright. They are in the form of a man, but have very little man inside the disguise.
They will not reflect signs of danger, but can be fatal to you and your loved ones.
They will crawl up next to you as a friend. They even wiggle their way into your home.
Suddenly you realize that he has bitten you or someone you love.
Just like Old Sputter, as long as I can see, I will fight the snakes, all kinds of them.
I remember one time, not too long after Dad's death, we needed a barn, it did not have to be a large one.
We went into the woods with what we had, that was a crosscut saw with a handle on each end. It was manually pulled back and forth across the tree until the tree fell to the ground. Most of the time we would fall to the ground several times, to rest, before the tree would fall.
We had a chopax, a sledge hammer, and some steel and wooden wedges. We had made the wooden wedges out of small dogwood trees. We had a froe and a mallet. The froe was a piece of metal three inches or so wide and about fifteen inches long. It was sharp on one side with a large eye in one end of it for a handle. We had cut a round stick two inches or so in diameter and about fifteen inches long for the handle. The mallet was an alley-cop looking club that we used to drive the froe into the wood.
We cut down only straight, smooth pine trees that would split straight. We would then cut five foot cuts off the tree. We would use the steel wedges and the sledge hammer to start the tree splitting. We would drive the wooden wedges into the open split forcing the split to the end of the log. After splitting the log in half, we quartered it. We halved the quarters and worked one stick up at the time. We made a crotch two feet high. This was two cuts from smaller trees driven into the ground at an angle so they crossed one another, forming an X. We fastened the two sticks tightly together where they crossed. This was done with wire. Then we cut off the top of the X until we only had what we needed left. We took one of the five foot pieces of timber, laying it in the crotch at a 30 degree angle. We put one end under a root or a log. This keeps the timber from tipping when you push down on the end that's off the ground. The crotch keeps the timber from rolling, holding it in position while it is being worked into slats or boards. This was done with the froe and mallet.
We put the sharp edge of the froe against the end of the timber sticking off the ground. We then selected the thickness we wanted the board to be. We hammered the dull edge of the froe with the mallet until the froe was forced down into the timber, causing it to split. After it starts to split you can continue without the mallet by pushing down on the handle of the froe. Cocking the blade in the crack will cause the crack to continue.
We would shove the froe down again and repeat the action until we reached the other end of the timber We now had one board as wide as the piece of timber we were working, and as thick as we selected with the froe.
We worked weeks getting the boards to build a barn. We then carried them to the house.
We still had a real problem. We didn't have nails and this held up the barn for quite awhile. We were salvaging nails, saving them up. We were trapping for animals and things to raise the money to get nails.
The timber was laying there piled up at the house while this was being done. One day a neighbor crawled by.
He looked like a man and was driving a nice team of mules hooked to a wagon. He said he only came by to check and see if we were doing well. He saw the lumber and asked what we were doing with it. Mother told him we were trying to build a barn as soon as we got nails. He said he sure hated to see the timber lay there while we were waiting for nails because it: was apt to ruin before we could get nails. He said he would like to help us out if he could. He told us he knew we needed food and could let us have several bushels of sweet potatoes for the lumber He said he would haul the potatoes over to us. He told us when we got some nails we could go back to the woods for more timber
The man was right about us needing food. His offer of food made all our faces light up. We helped him load the timber on his wagon. He was to bring the potatoes back to us.
When he didn't come back was the first time we realized he was not man and that he had bitten us.
We contacted him several times and