Todd K / UKC
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Registered: Jun 2003
Location: Kalamazoo, Mich.
Posts: 6113 |
Best Plott Ever - Must Read
Old Hickory
Near the top of Shadow Mountain where the tallest timber grows, lived a crafty, monster ringtail who had conquered all his foes.
No man or dog could do him in among those trees and rocks; he was slippery as an otter and slyer than a fox.
Few hounds could ever trail him, and none could make him tree. The ones that did catch up to him you never more will see.
Now some men laughed and even scorned when told about this coon. They bragged on how their favorite hound could tree him might soon.
And so they’d take a trip some night into that gloomy wood, to prove to anyone with doubt their dog was really good.
A few of the hounds would strike real soon and their owners would burst with pride. But it didn’t take long for the dog to go wrong and return to his master’s side.
Some dogs would stick through thick and thin to bring that old monster to bay. They’d have had better luck if they just hadn’t struck cause they’re no longer with us today.
The tales of this coon spread far and wide until they fell on the ear; of a fellow they called “Raccoon Bill” who hunted each night of the year.
Bill was a man who would go many miles to give those ringtails a chase; and hunters had found that Bill had a hound that just wouldn’t take second place.
He called him Old Hickory, a name justly earned, that coon hunters never forgot. Eighty pounds tied together, by tough rawhide leather, is the way they described this great Plott.
“Twas a natural thing that Bill should bring his hound to this old coon’s domain, and there make the test to prove which was best in this battle of muscle and brain.
They went to the woods on a dark silent night with a slight touch of frost in the air, but the news had gone out, what was coming about, and a large crowd was already there.
Coon hunters had come from near and far to hear this mighty hound, in a contest with the toughest foe this dog had ever found. The crowd just stood in silence, the suspense was felt by all, then down on the creek Old Hickory struck and they heard his mighty bawl.
It came rolling out like thunder, this wild and wondrous sound. Some folks there are willing to swear it even shook the ground.
Now it didn’t take long for this old coon to learn he would soon have to use every trick, if he was going to lose this hound on his heels for Old Hickory intended to stick.
Over old logs and through the brush in a “hell-for-leather” romp, he crossed the creek a dozen times then circled in the swamp. But he just couldn’t shake this brindle hound, his tricks were to no avail, for bellowing loud and close behind came Old Hickory hot on his trail.
So he headed for the rocks and trees where he had his mountain lair, in a desperate bid to try and get rid of that brindle demon there.
Escape for that coon was an impossible thing, this dog was determined to stay. On this old mountain top that race came to a stop when Old Hickory brought him to bay.
The battle that followed between dog and coon, was heard down below loud and clear. Hunters just wouldn’t miss a fight just as this for it’s equal they never would hear.
When these enemies met on the bleak battle ground each sounded a wild battle cry. The coon’s shrill squall and Old Hickory’s hoarse bawl echoed along through the sky.
Using tooth and claw they fought each other with a wild and savage fury, in the greatest fight between dog and coon from Maine to old Missouri.
In this deadly duel they both pressed on, refusing to quit or retreat; the only way this battle would cease was when one met his death in defeat.
The noise and the clamor was suddenly hushed, for at last this great battle was done; and the crowd down below would finally know which of these fighters had won.
A sense of foreboding hung over the crowd while they waited for Bill to return. The hunters all felt misgiving and fear, as the outcome they waited to learn.
And out of the gloom old Bill did appear, and walked with a light springy stride; and bloody and torn came the best ever born, Old Hickory walked at his side.
This great hound’s deeds became known far and wide, and admired by coon hunting men; and fabulous sums were offered to Bill but he just wouldn’t part with his friend.
The tale of this battle is told and retold wherever coon hunters are found. For none is so dear to a coon hunter’s ear as the tale of a great hunting hound. By Maurice Brown
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08-08-2013 06:50 PM
