Duck River

About the Book

The afternoon wind was blowing a sad reminder of fall’s passing down the pike to Earl and Claude Smith as they dismounted their four wheelers and trailed down the western point of their hunting domain. Duck River Land was primed for the coming season. Scouting was underway and club members were preparing for some early season black powder hunting. Old favorite spots were being inspected to determine if the deer still considered them as prime bedding, eating, and safety centers. Both hikers felt that something was not exactly right. They did not discuss the feeling until the night’s supper was served, but the feeling was one of dread. It was an undefined mental image that left them wondering what it was and where it originated. Why it was there was just as great a mystery as what they were supposed to do about it. I think Earl might have known but Claude, if he in fact felt it, had not a clue. The leaves along the well-worn four-wheel trail rustled under foot. The pair spoke only in whispers as they eased along expectantly. A big old buck could jump at any moment, and neither of them wanted to miss its flight. The white flag, the thump, thump of cloven hooves, and the buck snort were well worth the effort in jumping the game. I think it is called game because of the antics the hunters play in catching it. Game is a good word and the wildlife wins more often than not. In the Duck River woods, there is an extra tool in their bag of escape and battle strategies. Hunters, while hunting and scouting, have to be ever alert for the giant timber rattlers that inhabit the area. The fall’s hot sun often had them lying lazily dosing in the warm leaves. A carelessly placed step could easily place a hunter in striking range of their deadly fangs. Earl knew Claude’s phobia of snakes and took advantage of it as they moseyed down the sun-specked trail. The sunlight danced down on the forest floor as the gentle breeze of impending winter separated the leaf canopy above Claude and Earl’s trek. Earl selected a makeshift-walking pole to assist in searching the terrain as they eased down toward where they had seen deer bedding in the past. Occasionally he would ease the twig still attached to its point up or down the back of Claude’s leg and whisper “snake” or simply “hissss” a snake like warning. Each such playful threat rewarded Earl with a good hearted and heart felt laugh at Claude’s squeal and leap. “Dang it now Earl. Now stop that!” Claude insisted each time Earl pulled the prank. When one was as weary of snakes as Claude was, the fright never diminished with the teasing. Each new rub and hiss brought a different but just as quaking response from Claude. Earl was thoroughly enjoying himself. Somewhere down near the point of the ridge, Earl made his final hiss and rub. Claude went airborne with a yell that would have dislodged any impacted deer in the area. Claude sailed far across a fallen log and landed with a silent, ghost white stance. He froze on the spot. Earl was staggering, holding his sides, and slapping his thighs in uncontrolled laughter. Finally, it dawned upon him that Claude was not making the customary fuss about his prank. He quieted, paled, and began trembling. He whispered to Claude. “For God’s sake, don’t move.”

About the Author

Born July 4, 1944 in Clinchport, Virginia. A.A. Degree from Hiwassee College, Two Years East Tennessee State University in study of science. Associate of Science Degree from Walter State College, Bachelor of Science Degree in Criminal Justice from ETSU, Graduate Tennessee Law Enforcement Academy, Graduate of the FBI National Academy. I teach adult class at New Melody Church. I belong to many professional and civic organizations. I an accessory for the Commission on Accreditation for Law Enforcement Agencies, and an Advanced Member of the International Association of Law Enforcement Planners. I speak before various religious gatherings. I serve as Chief of the Sullivan County Sheriff’s Office in Tennessee. I am the Arthur of two other books: On the Way Up and Duck River.