Читать книгу Smokey and the Fouke Monster: A True Story - Smokey Crabtree - Страница 6

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 only got lies and promises. This was a real problem. He was the kind of snake that Old Sputter could not help me with. I was only a boy, I often told my troubles to Old Sputter. He was always very understanding and showed signs of sympathy for me. He could net advise me as what to do. He had shown me what he did when he got bit. He did not quit and let the snake go free. He tried to watch him closer and kept fighting.

I was faced with a problem that the dog knew nothing about, like rules and laws. I was not big enough to grab the man and shake his teeth loose. I could not kill him or burn his house, that would make me as bad as he was. After giving the situation a lot of thought, I decided, all he really cost us was a terrible lot of work and the thing to do was assign him to hard labor His working for us was ruled out, so him working for himself and not gaining anything for it was the answer

Mother was not in on the plan. She would have been fast to tell us that two wrongs will not make a right.

My older brother and I watched his house until he and every member of his family were away from home. His well of water was something that he used constantly If there was a problem with it he could not put it off. He would have to go right to work on it, so it was our target. We had to use what we had. We didn't have anything but that did not stop us. We used some of what he had. He had some of everything in the country

His well was a large open mouthed tile, thirty-six inches in diameter and sixty or seventy feet deep, with a bucket. He drawed water up with a rope and pulley

First, we threw a bale of hay from his barn into the well. We caught one of his goats. We did not harm the goat, but lowered him down in the well, and cut him loose. He was standing on the bale of hay. He had plenty of food and water. We put a few other items in, then threw the rope in to make things a little more interesting for him. When they returned home his work was cut out for him.

It's like I said earlier in this book, "Sometimes I let the Lord take care of things and if I think he is busy, I take care of them myself."

It is not something that started yesterday.

I have never been able to just stand there after someone has wronged me and watch him crawl free.

I was always willing to kill for food but have saved the lives of many small animals that were in danger.

When I was a young boy I performed a serious operation on some of our chickens and saved their lives.

We raised the chickens for food and food was a scarce item around our house. We had some young chickens not large enough to eat yet. We found them laying all over the back yard, some of them dead. Some of them were still showing signs of life.

They were purple around the head and unconscious, gasping for breath. Their craws were swollen up and their necks were full of something.

We looked them over and discovered they had found the door open to the smoke house where we were storing some dried beans. They had helped themselves to the beans and didn't know when to stop. When the dried beans drew moisture from inside the chickens' craws they swelled up twice their size. This caused a tremendous amount of pressure inside the chickens' craws and necks. This had closed off their windpipes, causing suffocation.

Mother said there was nothing we could do, they would all die.

I told Mother that I would operate on the ones that still had life in them if she would let me.

She said, "You mean cut them open and get the beans out?"

I said, "Yes, that's what I mean."

She told me to go ahead but she thought they were past saving.

I quickly picked out the ones that had signs of life in them. I placed them all side by side on the ground. I sharpened my knife, got the bottle of alcohol from the house, and went to work.

I got the worst one first, figuring the others would make it longer. I was very careful with the first one.

I stripped off the feathers around the craw, put some alcohol on the bare skin. I counted the layers of skin and flesh as I cut through, so I would not miss any of them or get one sewed back to the wrong one. I kept this straight in my mind.

When I reached the beans I removed them, letting the chicken get his breath back. If the chicken didn't start breathing immediately after the beans were removed, I mashed him gently a few times and he would start breathing. I put him to sleep until I had time to sew him up. This was done by folding the chicken's head back under one wing, holding the wing snug against the chicken's head so he could not pull it out. I would swing the chicken in the shape of a zero several times. Then laying him down on his side, with the wing down, that has his head under it, he will lie there for a long time and not move a feather This gave me time to open up the others.

I then went back to the first one, with the needle and thread, dipped in alcohol and started sewing them up. I started with the inside and worked my way out. Each layer was sewed up separately and doctored with methylate. His skin was the last to be stitched up. When the operation was complete, I wrapped them in warm towels, placed them in a warm place to where nothing would bother them.

In a few days the chickens were good as new Every chicken I operated on lived.

Mother called me Dr. Crabtree for a while after that.