Wlliam Gilmore Simms
The Cub of the Panther: A Hunter Legend of the ''Old North State'' >> Chapter Four: The Deer and Deer Hunters on the Trail >> Page 65

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Novel (Romance) | The University of Arkansas Press | 1997
But now the field is mostly mine;
No rival crosses o'er my line;.
I claims as fur as eye kin see,
And all the county yields to me.
The bar that ranges fur and wide,
Some day will pay me ham and hide;
And with each sun, this rifle's crack,
Still picks the old buck from the pack.
I've all I wants, myself, and more;
My boys all share my skill and store;
And they will never lack for game,
While! strength kin hunt, or skill kin tame.
And yit, I sometimes grudge to think,
That when into the grave I sink,
Another foot shall take the trail,
And win, where I prehaps, might fail;
Some other hunter's eye explore,
The "thick," so sweet to me before;
And dogs of other men shall wake,
The sleepy beast in yander brake!
But what's the use? I've hed my day
A long one, too, and full of play;
I reckon, though my life is rough,
I've hed of pleasure quite enough!
I've lived in every limb and vein,
In hairt and head, and kain't complain,
When the Great Captain calls, to lay
My rifle down, and leave the prey!
Put out my boys, and with a will,
We'll brush these woods that lie in sight;
While day-light lasts, be doing still,
The secret for sweet sleep at night!'
The best and, perhaps, whole philosophy of life lies in these two last
lines; and the philosophy of Fuller was throughout precisely that of Jim
Fisher. They had like natures, and had been brought up in the same
school, and gone through similar experiences. Indeed, Fuller had been,
at fifteen, a pupil of Fisher at sixty. He, too, looked upon the grand
scenery of these mountains and their great cavernous hollows, sub-
limely sad and solitary, only as a "world of meat," from which he and
his children were to draw their supplies for a long future. He had no
such sublime feelings, no such delicate sympathies, as made love, with