Nights with Uncle Remus (46 page)

“Brer Fox sat dar on de lowmow's lim's en look lak he skeer'd. Bimeby Brer Rabbit tuck he stan' way off fum de tree, en he holler, sezee:

“ ‘Ef you'll take'n jump out dis way, Brer Fox, I'll ketch you.'

“Brer Fox look up, he look down, he look all 'roun'. Brer Rabbit come little closer, en 'low, sezee:

“ ‘Hop right down yer, Brer Fox, en I'll ketch you.'

“Hit keep on dis away, twel, bimeby, Brer Fox tuck a notion to jump, en des ez he jump Brer Rabbit hop out de way en holler, sezee:

“ ‘
Ow!
Scuze me, Brer Fox! I stuck a brier in my foot! Scuze me, Brer Fox! I stuck a brier in my foot!'

“En dat ole Brer Fox,” continued Uncle Remus, dropping his voice a little, “dat ole Brer Fox, gentermens! you oughter bin dar! He hit de groun' like a sack er taters, en it des natally knock de breff out'n 'im. W'en he git up en count hisse'f fer ter see ef he all dar, he aint kin walk skacely, en he sat dar en lick de so' places a mighty long time 'fo' he fell lak he kin make he way todes home.”

When the little boy wanted to know what become of Brother Rabbit Uncle Remus said:

“Shoo! don't you pester 'bout Brer Rabbit. He kick up he heels en put out fum dar.” Then he added: “Dem ar chick'ns crown' 'g'in, honey. Done gone by nine er'clock. Scoot out fum dis. Miss Sally'll be a rakin me over de coals.”

LXIV

One night the little boy ran into Uncle Remus's cabin singing:

 

Uncle Remus, Daddy Jack, Aunt Tempy, and 'Tildy were all sitting around the fire, for the Christmas weather was beginning to make itself rather severely felt. As they made room for the child, Daddy Jack flung his head back, and took up the song, beating time with his foot:

 

“Deyer mighty kuse creeturs,” said 'Tildy, who was sitting rather nearer to Daddy Jack than had been her custom—a fact to which Aunt Tempy had already called the attention of Uncle Remus by a motion of her head, causing the old man to smile a smile as broad as it was wise. “Deyer mighty kuse, an' I'm fear'd un um,” 'Tildy went on. “Dey looks so lonesome hit makes me have de creeps fer ter look at um.”

“Dey no hu't-a you,” said Daddy Jack, soothingly. “You flut you' han' toze um dey fly way fum dey-dey.”

“I dunno 'bout dat,” said 'Tildy. “Deyer bal'-headed, an' dat w'at make me 'spize um.”

Daddy Jack rubbed the bald place on his head with such a comical air that even 'Tildy laughed. The old African retained his good-humor.

“You watch dem Buzzud,” he said after awhile, addressing himself particularly to the little boy. “ 'E fly high, 'e fly low, 'e fly way 'roun'. Rain come, 'e flup 'e wings, 'e light 'pon dead pine. Rain fall, 'e hug 'ese'f wit 'e wing, 'e scrooge 'e neck up. Rain come, win' blow, da Buzzud bin-a look ragged. Da Buzzud bin-a wink 'e y-eye, 'e say:

“ ‘Wun da win' fer stop blow un da rain fer stop drip, me go mek me one house. Me mek um tight fer keep da rain out; me pit top on strong fer keep da win' out.'

“Dun da rain dry up un da win' stop. Da Buzzud, 'e stan' 'pon top da dead pine. Wun da sun bin-a shine, 'e no mek um no house no'n 'tall. 'E stay 'pon da dead pine; 'e 'tretch 'e wing wide open; 'e bin dry hisse'f in da sun. 'E hab mek no house sence 'e bin born. 'E one fool bud.”

“En yit,” said Uncle Remus, with a grave, judicial air, “I year tell er one time w'en ole Brer Buzzard want so mighty fur outer de way wid he notions.”

“Me yent yeddy tahlk 'bout dis,” Daddy Jack explained.

“I speck not,” responded Uncle Remus. “Hit seem lak dat dey wuz one time w'en Mr. Hawk come sailin' 'roun' huntin' fer sump'n n'er t'eat, en he see Brer Buzzard settin' on a dead lim', lookin' mighty lazy en lonesome.

“Mr. Hawk, sezee, ‘How you come on, Brer Buzzard?'

“Brer Buzzard, sezee, ‘I'm mighty po'ly, Brer Hawk; po'ly en hongry.'

“Mr. Hawk, sezee, ‘W'at you waitin' fer ef you hongry, Brer Buzzard?'

“Brer Buzzard, sezee, ‘I'm a waitin' on de Lord.'

“Mr. Hawk, sezee, ‘Better run en git yo' brekkus, Brer Buzzard, en den come back en wait.'

“Brer Buzzard, sezee, ‘No, Brer Hawk, I'll go bidout my brekkus druther den be biggity 'bout it.'

“Mr. Hawk, he 'low, sezee, ‘Well, den, Brer Buzzard, you got yo' way en I got mine. You see dem ar chick'ns down dar in Mr. Man hoss-lot? I'm a gwine down dar en git one un um, en den I'll come back yer en wait 'long wid you.'

“Wid dat, Mr. Hawk tuck'n sail off, en Brer Buzzard drop he wings down on de lim' en look mighty lonesome. He sot dar en look mighty lonesome, he did, but he keep one eye on Mr. Hawk.

“Mr. Hawk, he sail 'roun' en 'roun', en he look mighty purty. He sail 'roun' en 'roun' 'bove de hoss-lot—'roun' en 'roun'—en bimeby he dart down at chick'ns. He shot up he wings en dart down, he did, des same ef he 'uz fired out'n a gun.”

“Watch out, pullets!” exclaimed 'Tildy, in a tone of warning.

“He dart down, he did,” continued Uncle Remus, rubbing his hand thoughtfully across the top of his head, “but stidder he hittin' de chick'ns, he tuck'n hit 'pon de sharp een' un a fence-rail. He hit dar, he did, en dar he stuck.”

“Ah-yi-ee!” exclaimed Daddy Jack.

“Dar he stuck. Brer Buzzard sot en watch 'im. Mr. Hawk aint move. Brer Buzzard sot en watch 'im some mo'. Mr. Hawk aint move. He done stone dead. De mo' Brer Buzzard watch 'im de mo' hongrier he git, en bimeby he gedder up he wings, en sorter clean out he year wid he claw, en 'low, sezee:

“ ‘I know'd de Lord 'uz gwineter pervide.' ”

“Trufe too!” exclaimed Aunt Tempy. “ 'Taint bin in my min' dat Buzzard got sense lak dat!”

“Dar's whar you missed it, Sis Tempy,” said Uncle Remus, gravely. “Brer Buzzard, he tuck'n drap down fum de dead lim', en he lit on Mr. Hawk, en had 'im fer brekkus. Hit's a mighty 'roun' about way fer ter git chick'n-pie, yit hit's lots better dan no way.”

“I speck Hawk do tas'e like chicken,” remarked 'Tildy.

“Dey mos' sho'ly does,” said Uncle Remus, with emphasis.

LXV

“I year tell er one time,” said 'Tildy, “w'en ole Mr. Hawk tuck'n kotch Brer Rabbit, but 'taint no tale like dem you all bin tellin'.”

“Tell it, anyhow, 'Tildy,” said the little boy.

“Well, 'taint no tale, I tell you dat now. One time Brer Rabbit wuz gwine 'long thoo de bushes singin' ter hisse'f, an' he see a shadder pass befo' 'im. He look up, an' dar 'uz Mr. Hawk sailin' 'roun' an' 'roun'. Time he see 'im, Brer Rabbit 'gun ter kick up an' sassy 'im.

“Mr. Hawk aint pay no 'tention ter dis. He des sail all 'roun' an 'roun'. Eve'y time he sail 'roun', he git little closer, but Brer Rabbit aint notice dis. He too busy wid his devilment. He shuck his fis' at Mr. Hawk, an' chunk'd at 'im wid sticks;
¹⁰³
an' atter w'ile he tuck'n make out he got a gun, an' he tuck aim at Mr. Hawk, an' 'low'd, ‘Pow!' an' den he holler an' laugh.

“All dis time Mr. Hawk keep on sailin' 'roun' an' 'roun' an' gittin' nigher an' nigher, an' bimeby down he drapt right slambang on Brer Rabbit, an' dar he had 'im. Brer Rabbit fix fer ter say his pra'rs, but 'fo' he do that, he talk to Mr. Hawk, an' he talk mighty fergivin'. He 'low, he did:

“ ‘I 'uz des playin', Mr. Hawk; I 'uz dez a playin'. You oughtn' ter fly up an' git mad wid a little bit er man like me.'

“Mr. Hawk ruffle up de fedders on his neck an' say:

“ ‘I ain't flyin' up, I'm a flyin' down, an' w'en I fly up, I'm a gwine ter fly way 'wid you. You bin a playin' de imp 'roun' in dis settlement long nuff, an' now ef you got any will ter make, you better make it quick, kaze you aint got much time.'

“Brer Rabbit cry. He say:

“ ‘I mighty sorry, Mr. Hawk, dat I is. I got some gol' buried right over dar in fence cornder, an' I wish in my soul my po' little childuns know whar 'twuz, kaze den dey could git long widout me fer a mont' er two.'

“Mr. Hawk 'low, ‘Wharbouts is all dis gol'?'

“Brer Rabbit 'low, ‘Right over dar in de fence cornder.'

“Mr. Hawk say show it ter 'im. Brer Rabbit say he don't keer ef he do, an' he say:

“I'd a done show'd it ter you long 'fo' idis, but you hol' me so tight, I can't wink my eye skacely, much less walk ter whar de gol' is.'

“Mr. Hawk say he fear'd he gwineter try ter git 'way. Brer Rabbit say dey aint no danger er dat, kaze he one er deze yer kinder mens w'en dey er kotch once deyer kotch fer good.

“Mr. Hawk sorter let Brer Rabbit loose, an' dey went todes de fence-cornder. Brer Rabbit, he went 'long so good dat dis sorter ease Mr. Hawk min' 'bout he gittin' way. Dey got ter de place an' Brer Rabbit look all 'roun', an' den he frown up like he got some mighty bad disap'intment, an' he say:

“ ‘You may b'lieve me er not, Mr. Hawk, but we er on de wrong side er de fence. I hid dat gol' some'rs right in dat cornder dar. You fly over an' I'll go thoo.'

“Tooby sho' dis look f'ar, an' Brer Rabbit, he crope thoo' de fence, an' Mr. Hawk flewd 'cross. Time he lit on t'er side, Mr. Hawk year Brer Rabbit laugh.”

The little boy asked what Brother Rabbit laughed for, as 'Tildy paused to adjust a flaming red ribbon-bow pinned in her hair.

“Caze dey wuz a brier-patch on t'er side de fence,” said 'Tildy, “an' Brer Rabbit wuz in dar.”

“I boun' you!” Aunt Tempy exclaimed. “He 'uz in dar, an' dar he stayed tell Mr. Hawk got tired er hangin' 'roun' dar.”

“Ah, Lord, chile!” said Uncle Remus, with the candor of an expert, “some er dat tale you got right, en some you got wrong.”

“Oh, I know'd 'twan't no tale like you all bin tellin',” replied 'Tildy, modestly.

“Tooby sho' 'tis,” continued Uncle Remus, by way of encouragement; “but w'iles we gwine 'long we better straighten out all de kinks dat'll b'ar straightenin'.”

“Goodness knows I aint fittin' ter tell no tale,” persisted 'Tildy.

“Don't run yo'se'f down, gal,” said Uncle Remus, encouragingly; “ef dey's to be any runnin' down let yuther folks do it; en, bless yo' soul, dey'll do 'nuff un it bidout waitin' fer yo' lettin'.

“Now, den, old man Hawk—w'ich dey call 'im Billy Bluetail in my day en time—ole man Hawk, he tuck'n kotch Brer Rabbit des lak you done said. He kotch 'im en he hilt 'im in a mighty tight grip, let 'lone dat he hilt 'im so tight dat it make Brer Rabbit breff come short lak he des come off'n a long jurney.

“He holler en he beg, but dat aint do no good; he squall en he cry, but dat aint do no good; he kick en he groan, but dat aint do no good. Den Brer Rabbit lay still en study 'bout w'at de name er goodness he gwine do. Bimeby he up'n 'low:

“ ‘I dunner w'at you want wid me, Mr. Hawk, w'en I aint a mouf full fer you, skacely!'

“Mr. Hawk, sezee, ‘I'll make way wid you, en den I'll go ketch me a couple er Jaybirds.'

“Dis make Brer Rabbit shake wid de allovers, kaze ef dey's any kinder creetur w'at he natally spize on de topside er de yeth, hits a Jaybird.

“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘Do, pray, Mr. Hawk, go ketch dem Jaybirds fus', kase I can't stan' um bein' on top er me. I'll stay right yer, plum twel you come back,' sezee.

“Mr. Hawk, sezee, ‘Oh-oh, Brer Rabbit, you done bin fool too many folks. You aint fool me,' sezee.

“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘Ef you can't do dat, Mr. Hawk, den de bes' way fer you ter do is ter wait en lemme git tame, kaze I'm dat wil' now dat I don't tas'e good.'

“Mr. Hawk, sezee, ‘Oh-oh!'

“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘Well, den, ef dat won't do, you better wait en lemme grow big so I'll be a full meal er vittles.'

“Mr. Hawk, sezee, ‘Now youer talkin' sense!'

“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘En I'll rush 'roun' mungs de bushes, en drive out Pa'tridges fer you, en we'll have mo' fun dan w'at you kin shake a stick at.'

“Mr. Hawk sorter study 'bout dis, en Brer Rabbit, he beg en he splain, en de long en de short un it wuz,” said Uncle Remus, embracing his knee with his hands, “dat Brer Rabbit tuck'n git loose, en he aint git no bigger, en needer is he druv no Pa'tridges fer Mr. Hawk.”

“De Lord he'p my soul!” exclaimed 'Tildy, and this was the only comment made upon this extraordinary story.

LXVI

All this talk about Hawks and Buzzards evidently reminded Daddy Jack of another story. He began to shake his head and mumble to himself; and, finally, when he looked around and found that he had attracted the attention of the little company, he rubbed his chin and grinned until his yellow teeth shone in the firelight like those of some wild animal, while his small eyes glistened under their heavy lids with a suggestion of cunning not unmixed with ferocity.