The Coon Hunt

 

Coon hunting sounds like something that would be fun,
But I found that when you go you are always on the run,
This short poem describes my adventure with the coonhounds,
And the misery I found with those hounds on the ground.

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The Coon Hunt

 

One summer when I was 16 years old while at Sulphur Springs,
The Eldreds asked me to go on a coon hunt, a real fun thing,
Richard had some fine redbone coonhounds that he had bred.
My friend Bill Eldred skinned the coons when they were dead.

 

 

The pelts were worth $25 each so he went to make some cash
We all had miners caps with carbide lamps to make a small flash
So we could see a little in the dark as we followed the dogs
They didn’t make much light, but it kept you from tripping on logs.

We went out at night a couple of hours after it got real black.
And turned the hounds loose and they were on a fresh track.
They ran for a long while barking loud as they did range.
When they treed a coon, the hounds baying voice would change.

 

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We could tell immediately when that coon was up a tree,
And we headed to the them until that coon we could see.
Richard had a 22 rifle to knock that old coon to the ground.
In a second, that coon was just covered with coonhounds.

Bill field skinned the big coon in about five minutes flat.
And the hounds had already picked up another coons track.
We hunted all night and got 2 opossums and 3 big coons.
This wore me plum out on that warm muggy night in June.

 

 

When I checked my self out on the the very next day,
I had about 50 big chigger bites up my legs all the way,
And 2 ticks on the neck and one on the left side of the scrotum.
I carefully pulled them off and in the commode I did float em.

I told my friend Bill, that one coon hunt in a life was probably enough
Because running all night and all the bug bites were very rough.
Bill just laughed out loud and said ..I think you’re a big old pussy.
I said..Maybe so, but I think you’re just a little bit too fussy

 

 

That was the last summer trip I ever made to Sulphur Springs
Since I worked the next two summers for money for school and things.
I went back one more time to see my grandparents grave site,
But I still remember coon hunting on the warm summers night.

 

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By Bill

 

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Thanks for reading The Coon Hunt,
Bill