Webfoot

By Tommy Glenn Mckinney

Pa came in from the trap line to see Otis hitting Ma. Pa dropped everything he had in his hands and in a wild rage charged Otis Bingam. When Otis turned and saw Pa running toward him, he let go of Ma, pulled his pistol, and shot Pa right in the chest, killing him on the spot.

Ma ran to where Pa fell and threw herself on his body, trying to revive him with no success.

Otis came over and pulled Ma up by her hair and said, If you dont tell me where the money is hidden, Ill do the same for you and that rag-tail girl of yours. Now where is it?

Thats when I showed up, taking it all in with one horrible look. I yelled, Let her go!

Otis turned on me like a wounded cougar. He kinda sneered and said, Well now we got em all. He cast Ma aside and started for me. He wasnt counting on that pistol I had, and when he saw it, he just snickered and said, You aint got what it takes to shoot a man.

I slid that pistol out quick and smooth and had it pointed at Otiss belt buckle when Pas words came back to me. Never point at anything you dont want to kill.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Feb 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781452547152

Tommy Glenn Mckinney

Tom McKinney, a retired welder, lives in northwest Louisiana with his wife and is an avid sportsman.  He writes about the swamps and bayous of long ago, drawing from old stories about a past way of life that relatives have passed down for generations.

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Copyright © 2011, 2012 Tommy Glenn Mckinney

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ISBN: 978-1-4525-4714-5 (sc)

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Printed in the United States of America

Balboa Press rev. date: 2/13/2012

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 1

I lay there waiting and listening…my every sense alert. I could not tell where the danger was but I knew it was there, nonetheless. If life had taught me anything, it taught me to trust my instincts. Being born and raised (or almost raised) on Black Bayou in Louisiana I learned very early in life to take notice of all the things around me.

Black Bayou encompasses several thousand acres of swamp and wetlands in northwest Louisiana. Teeming with wildlife of all sorts the fur bearing creatures, beaver, coons, possums, squirrels, deer, bobcats and even a few bears provided us with meat and clothing. Then the water held fish, frogs, turtles, gators and snakes of all sorts.

Many people were right fearful of entering the bayou and those that did venture in didn’t go very deep. Many times a pilgrim went to the bayou only to never be seen or heard from again. If the snakes, gators or quicksand didn’t get them then they simply got lost and couldn’t find their way out and died of heat stroke or starvation. To me, Jacob Corbert, pronounced ‘Co-Bear’, Black Bayou was home.

My father, Joseph Cobert was a hunter, trapper and fisherman and we had a cabin on some high ground in the far reaches of the bayou. By high ground I mean it was only two to three feet above the water. We had to share maybe three acres all told with anything that came sliding out of the water to lie in the sun for awhile.

Ma had a garden spot right up next to the cabin. We had to practically live in the garden to keep the varmints out or else we wouldn’t harvest anything at all.

There were others that lived as we did, but none nearby. About three or four times a year someone might stop by and it was always a joyous occasion. Ma and my sister yearned to talk with others. As for me, I could do without the talking, but I did like to eat and a big meal was always prepared when company came calling.

Once in a while somebody from outside would hire Pa as a guide, be it for hunting or fishing and he made a little money doing that. Several times he was approached by the peace officers to help search out a fugitive that had escaped into the swamp, but Pa didn’t like doing that. He said the man hadn’t wronged him and he wasn’t going to help hunt him.

Needless to say, the law didn’t look on that attitude with favor. There wasn’t much they could do about it though. If they forced Pa to go with them he would just lead them around in circles ‘til they gave up the chase. Most of the time them that ran into the swamp for refuge never made it out anyway.

That’s how we got a new shotgun and a Colt pistol. Pa was out running his traps when he came upon a dead man. I didn’t see him but Pa said the man had been dead a week or more and he had this shotgun and pistol on him, along with three five-dollar gold pieces. Now, some would’ve took what they wanted and left, but not Pa. He loaded it all in his boat and brought it home.

The next day early Pa started for the settlements with the body and the money. There isn’t a lot of room in a pirogue so Pa left the shotgun and pistol at the cabin. I was sure glad cause I took a liking to that pistol right away. I wasn’t supposed to touch it, but I did. In fact, every chance I got I would sneak it out and handle it. Pa had unloaded both guns before he ever brought them in the cabin.

When Pa got to the dry ground, which is what we called the edge of the bayou, it was already well past noon. Then he had to walk to the nearest farm and fetch the farmer’s mule and wagon and most of the time the farmer named Horace Gibson would come with it. Pa also used this arrangement with Mr. Gibson to get his furs to market.

By the time they got to town (a settlement really, of about seventy five people) Pa had only about two hours of daylight left. He thought he would just bring in the body and explain how he came upon it and leave. He was wrong. It seems that this dead man had held up the payroll for the sawmill and got away with several hundred dollars which was considered a fortune in those days.

The local law wanted to know where the rest of the money was. Pa said he didn’t know. All he had was the three gold pieces, a shotgun and pistol on him when he was found. Where is the shotgun? the Constable asked.

At home, answered Pa, I’ll bring them in next time I come or you can come get them. I didn’t have room enough for them this trip.

You didn’t have room for the money either, I see, said the lawman.

I already told you I didn’t see any money and if I wanted to keep anything it would have been a whole lot easier to leave the body where I found it.

Nobody could argue with the logic of that. Still, the tiny seed of doubt had been planted and when Pa and Mr. Gibson started for home Pa glanced back and saw small groups of men talking. Horace turned to Pa and said, You know, by the end of the week those men will be stomping all over the bayou searching for that money. Some of ‘em probably won’t make it back out.

I can’t stop ‘em from coming, said Pa but if I find any more bodies I’m gonna leave ‘em where I find ‘em!

Chapter 2

It was full dark by the time Pa got back to the boat. The bayou is an ominous place in the daylight for those who don’t know it. And after dark it’s an ominous place even for those who know it well, with those old swell-butted cypress trees with the Spanish moss hanging from every limb and each clump home to spiders and wasps. All the creatures of the swamp move at night. Add to that it was a moonless night. Owls were hooting. Something splashed just ahead. There were various animal calls and the screams of a dying rabbit falling prey to who knows what.

Through all this Pa made his way slowly. He had very little concern for the things around him. He was more concerned about what was following him. He knew Horace Gibson was right and behind him would be men with guns.

Daylight wasn’t far off when Pa made it home. You would have thought he would make it straight for bed but on this morning Pa just sat at the table deep in thought. It started getting light and Ma got up and made coffee and brought Pa a cup. She could tell something was worrying him; something fierce. They sat talking in low voices. I couldn’t make out what was being said.

I couldn’t stand it any longer so I got up. My sister Rachel would lie in bed until Ma made her get up. She wasn’t lazy but she sure could sleep. Anyway, to my amazement and delight Pa told me to get the pistol and come outside.

When we got outside Pa took the pistol and checked it over and he showed me its every function. He taught me how to use it, load it and shoot it. Always handle it with respect. Always treat any gun as if it were loaded. Keep it clean. Never point at anything you don’t want to kill.

I’ve been around guns all of my life for it was a way of life for us Pa had me shooting our old muzzle loader from the time I could hold it up but this was the first pistol I ever held.

Pa had me break it down and clean it then put it back together so many times I could do it in my sleep. When Pa was satisfied with the way I could dismantle and reassemble the pistol he had me start on the shotgun. Days went by and we run our traps and did our work but always we would put in a couple hours gun practice everyday. I was loving every minute of it, but for Pa it wasn’t just fun and games. He had a reason to be doing this.

We didn’t have any ammunition other than what was in the guns when Pa found them, so I would practice pointing and aiming and dry firing the weapons. Pa was forever telling me to squeeze the trigger and don’t jerk it. It became second nature to me.

More and more we would go hunting and Pa had me doing the shooting learning to shoot moving targets. First it was squirrels. Pa wouldn’t let me shoot a squirrel sitting on a limb. He would spook it and I had to shoot it on the run. Then we started going after ducks. I had to shoot them on the fly and reload as fast as I could.

Sometimes Pa would deliberately rock the boat when a duck was flying by. Always make the first shot count. No matter if I rock the boat or you’re fallin’, concentrate on your aim and squeeze the trigger.

We ate real good that summer and fall and I had my twelfth birthday.

Chapter 3

Pa had a load of furs to take to town and this time he said I could go with him. I was so excited I didn’t know how to act. My joy became a little subdued when I found out Pa had so many pelts we would have to take the big boat. That meant Ma and Rachel could also go. Still, it was a happy time around our cabin. It had been over a year since I’d been to town.

Taking the big boat meant we had to travel the long way around to reach the dry ground. We would have to leave well before day light. Even Rachel didn’t mind leaving so early. I never heard so much talk about buying material to make dresses in all my life. All women thought about were clothes. I was perfectly satisfied with my buckskins. What I wanted was ammunition for the pistol.

Pa had decided to keep the shotgun and pistol. He figured he had as much right to them as anyone. Besides, he brought the body in and that was worth something. We got the boat to dry land and Pa went after Mr. Gibson’s wagon and mule. When he came back Pa had a frown on his face. Ma asked, What’s the matter.

Pa said, Mr. Gibson told me there were many men searching the swamp since I brought the body in and a couple didn’t come back. Speculation is I kept the money for myself.

How can they think such a thing? Ma asked. We only come to town once a year and spend on things we need. Money is no good to us where we live. There’s nothing to buy and no one to sell it. I wish I’d stayed home!

No need to feel that way, said Pa. We have nothing to hide or to be ashamed of. We’ll do our business and go home. Let them think what they want to.

So we rode the wagon into town under the full attention of the townspeople. The first stop was with the fur trader and him and Pa dickered over price for awhile and then shook hands as a deal was made. Ours were prime pelts and brought a good price. When Pa was paid he turned and gave both me and Rachel a dollar a piece. He just let Rachel go on but when he gave me my dollar he said, Spend it wisely.

Wow! A whole dollar! Why, there were so many things I could buy. I didn’t know where to start. First, some penny candy would be nice, and then I’d just look around and see what else they had.

Since there wasn’t but one store and Rachel was already in there I took my time walking up the steps. A couple of town boys were on the porch and I heard one of them ask, Come to town and spend some of that dead man’s money?

I acted like I didn’t hear him so when I reached the top step he stood right in front of me and said, I asked you a question web foot. Now, he was a year or two older than me and a little bigger. I didn’t have any boys my age around me where we lived and I didn’t know anything about fighting. I had a feeling I was fixin to learn the hard way. So I just reached out and got me two handfuls of his shirt and squatted down and fell backwards down those steps. This caused him to fall right along with me and when we hit the bottom I was on top of him. I let go of the shirt and socked him square on the nose.

Oh, he was full of fight till he saw the blood; his blood, coming from his nose, flowing free. Now fighting me was the last thing on his mind. He got up and ran. The other kid acted like he was late for supper and took off too.

I didn’t know it at the time but Pa had seen the whole thing. He came over and laid a hand on my shoulder and said, When you see trouble comin meet it head on. It only gets worse if you run from it. We walked into the store together.

Rachel was flitting around like a moth around a candle and talking a mile a minute. Pa went over to the hardware section and I didn’t know what to do except gawk at all the stuff for sale. Penny candy didn’t seem as important as it had a little while ago. Clothes held no interest for me. Then I saw the guns and ammunition. I knew then what I wanted; ammunition for the Colt. It was a .36 Caliber navy colt, cap and ball.

Pa came over and said, We might as well get some powder and caps for that pistol and a bullet mold too. If we’re going to keep it, we best be able to shoot it. Just what I was thinking but my dollar wouldn’t buy all that much. So Pa bought what we needed and I still had a whole dollar to spend.

I bought some candy and a new knife for skinning and was looking for something else to buy when the local lawman named Otis Bingam came stomping in. Otis was the law and the town bully all rolled into one. He cam right over to me and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck saying, I’ll teach you to come to town and beat up the kids here. He drew back his arm to hit me.

Pa was over by a barrel of axe handles looking at them when all this happened. Since he already had one in his hands he just turned around and laid it up side Otis’s head. Otis let me go and hit the floor all at the same time; out cold as a wedge.

Pa stepped over Otis and took his pistol and laid it on the counter and told the storekeeper to give it back when he woke up. Then he turned to the rest of us and said, We best be goin now. Rachel wasn’t ready to go yet but she saw Pa was serious, so she got her stuff and her and Ma went to the wagon, with Pa and me close behind.

On the ride back to our boat we were all kinda quiet ‘cept for Rachel and she was chattering away. Ma said to Pa, I wish that hadn’t happened.

Pa said, Me too, but if my kid needs a whippen I’ll be the one to do it. Otis and me never got along and he won’t be forgettin’ today for some time I expect.

We made another trip to our cabin after dark, but it wasn’t spooky with Pa along. The sounds we heard were just everyday sounds to us.

Chapter 4

The next few weeks it was life as usual for us. We run our traps, skinned and cured the pelts, fished and always had gun practice everyday. After the first few days of shooting the pistol I got to where I could hit what I aimed at. Pa started sending me out hunting with the pistol. He made a holster for it out of rabbit skin with the fur on the inside. That way when I went to draw it came out slick and smooth.

Pa would only let me load one chamber at first and when I came home I better have something to show for that one shot. I didn’t come home empty- handed very many times. The times I did I got a stern lecture. Either I jerked the trigger or I didn’t wait for the best shot. One or two of Pa’s lectures was enough for me to make sure of my shot. And after I was coming in with meat every time I went out Pa had me loading five chambers and only shooting one.

One day a neighbor came over with his family and spent the day. We had a big meal and everybody just sat around and talked and talked. They had a son about my age and a girl a year or so younger than me. The boy’s name was Shawn and the girl was Suzette.

Rachel had to show Suzette all the things she bought in town while Shawn walked around with me showing off my new knife. Since we were limited by the size of our island we kept coming back to where the grown ups were talking.

Shawn’s father Andrew was telling Pa he had been seeing more and more dry-landers in the swamp. Pa told him about finding the dead man and the events since then. Andrew warned Pa about Otis Bingam saying how bad he was to hold a grudge and all.

Pa wasn’t too concerned about it cause it would probably be a year before they saw one another again. This time Pa was wrong.

I had gone hunting with my pistol and Pa left to run his traps. Otis Bingam and another loafer from town came calling catching Ma by surprise. The other man was holding Ma while Otis was slapping her demanding where Pa had hid the payroll money.

Pa came in from the trap line to see Otis hitting Ma. Pa dropped everything he had in his hands and in a wild rage charged Otis Bingam. When Otis turned and saw Pa running toward him he let go of Ma, pulled his pistol and shot Pa right in the chest killing him on the spot.

Ma ran to where Pa fell and threw herself on his body trying to revive him with no success.

Otis came over and pulled Ma up by her hair and said, If you don’t tell me where the money is hidden I’ll do the same for you and that rag tail girl of yours. Now where is it?

That’s when I showed up, taking it all in with one horrible look. I yelled, Let her go!

Otis turned on me like a wounded cougar. He kinda sneered and said, Well now we got ‘em all. He cast Ma aside and started for me. He wasn’t counting on that pistol I had and when he saw it he just snickered and said, You ain’t got what it takes to shoot a man.

I slid that pistol out quick and smooth and had it pointed at Otis’s belt buckle when Pa’s words came back to me. Never point at anything you don’t want to kill.

Right then I wanted to kill Otis Bingam. So I just let it bang! A look of astonishment swept across Otis’s face. He held out one hand like it could stop the bullets and reached for his own gun with the other. He never got it out of the holster. I just walked in on him, firing with every step till the gun clicked on an empty chamber.

The man who had accompanied Otis out to our cabin broke and ran. We heard him splashing through the swamp going farther and farther away.

Ma looked at me and said, He will tell the story his way and they’ll come looking for you now. We can’t stay her anymore.

Ma and Rachel took the big boat and headed for Mr. Gibson’s farm. She knew there was no way for me to remain free on dry land. My only chance was the swamp. She knew I could take care of myself and remain somewhat safe as long as I didn’t come out and fought shy of people.

It was with tear-filled eyes we hugged each other goodbye. Here in the space of a few hours I had lost my whole family. Pa was dead and my mother and sister were going where I couldn’t follow. As I watched them till they were out of sight I turned to the pirogue, our small boat and loaded it with guns and all the ammunition we had, plus Pa’s tools and some cooking pots and pans.

Chapter 5

I went deeper into the swamp. It was not a scary place for me since I had been raised in it. I travelled all the day and into the night. I didn’t feel the need to rush. I figured the earliest they would come looking for me would be first light tomorrow. I was already miles away from our cabin when I found a small island surrounded by cypress trees and tied up for the night. Tomorrow I would start searching for a more suitable place to make camp.

First light found me wide awake and on the move. I didn’t have a fire the night before and no breakfast in the morning so I chewed on a piece of dried fish and ate a biscuit as I paddled along, always keeping to the shadows and making no noise at all.

Sometime after mid day I felt a current pulling at the pirogue so I let the current take me right up to a huge tree with low limbs hanging over the water. I eased under the limbs being very careful not to disturb the moss hanging from them. I found a creek about four feet wide and turned down it for about a hundred yards where it made a sharp switchback and then another. The bank showed a lot of evidence that gators had been sliding into the water there and I knew I had found what I had been looking for.

I nosed into the bank and tied up. Getting out of the boat I took the shotgun. The pistol and my knife were my constant companions. I never took them off; not even to sleep. I walked slowly around and found this little piece of high ground about a hundred yards wide and perhaps three times as long. I was surrounded by the creek on three sides and the bayou on the fourth.

I knew I had found my new home. It was impossible to see from the bayou and the water in the moving creek was clear. It would be good for cooking and drinking. I even found some wild onions growing where the sunlight penetrated the tree tops.

The first order of business was