Thursday Night At The Adult Arcade
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The next morning was something of a rush. Mary cooked breakfast while I did the morning outdoor chores like feeding the livestock and such things. I had to hurry if I was going to get a decent load of animals to deliver to Mr. Benson the next day. I wanted four adult hogs to make the trip worth while as defined as making me at least $50. If I could get $100 per week, Mary could forget the garden except for the stuff that we could not buy at the store. Any thing above $100 per week was gravy. I would take it, but I didn't really need it.
As soon as possible, I had Dun hitched to the buckboard and Sam and I hurried to the Hanson farm. From what I saw on Monday, we should still do very well at that same field where we went last time. I thought I saw at least six more adult hogs in that field. Right now, I wanted to concentrate on adults because they took about the same time and effort as the younger animals, but they paid off much better.
We topped that same little hill as before, and I swear that I could see at least eight or nine adult hogs in the field. They were playing hell with it, too. Jeb was going to have to replant the whole field if he was going to make a crop from it this year. Dammit, I just had to kill as many of those hogs as I could manage!
Sam jumped down and ran toward the greatest accumulation of hogs. There were several adults in the group, so he should be able to get at least one to chase him. I really didn't expect to see a boar since we had killed one the last time we were here, but a boar could have moved in since then. I watched for a little bit and saw Sam run at a piglet that was close to an adult, probably a sow. It really didn't make much difference because a sow or a boar would chase him if he looked like a danger to the youngsters.
Yeah, here he comes with an adult on his tail. It certainly was an advantage to be able to see what was happening at a distance. I wondered if it would be worthwhile to get binoculars. Well, I would worry about that later. Right now, Sam was moving like a bat out of Hell, so that must be a boar chasing him. I made sure that both chambers of the shotgun were loaded with the modified shells—I didn't dare risk a mistake at this point.
We had the same situation today with the furrows running straight toward me, so the hogs would not be moving from side to side. That was an advantage for me that I did not take lightly. As Sam got close, I could see that he was running at his top speed. Uh-oh, I had better not screw up with this one.
The boar was so close this time that Sam did not fool around. He ran directly under the buckboard so that he would not have to slow down. He certainly realized the gravity of the situation. I was ready with the shotgun at my shoulder and my finger on the trigger. I fired at the boar's snout as soon as I had a clear shot.
I did miss my aiming point slightly and hit the boar almost dead center in its right eye. I didn't care where the slug hit as long as it killed the boar. This shot certainly accomplished that, and the boar went tumbling as soon as the slug struck him. As usual, Sam checked to make sure that the boar was dead, and I congratulated the dog on a job well done.
I worked quickly this time and got the hog loaded in only about 15 minutes, or even a little less. Sam went after another hog and I climbed back into my position on the buckboard bed. Sam did the same thing as he had done with the first hog and soon had another adult chasing him. I was sure that this was a sow, but I really didn't care which it was. All I cared about was that it was an adult hog.
Again, Sam had the hog running down the furrow leading to the buckboard, and I was waiting there with two slugs loaded and my finger on the trigger. By the way Sam was running, I could tell that this was a sow that was chasing him. The pair got closer and Sam pulled a little away from the pursuing sow. That was fine because it gave me a little better safety margin. I fired at about 35 yards at the sow's snout. Uh-oh, the sow was not following the script. She stumbled slightly and the slug went over her head. Oh, she was hit by the slug, but it was along her backbone.
I was sure that the wound was very painful, but it only slowed the sow down slightly. Sam now realized that he was in trouble and put on a burst of speed that was enough to pull him away from the sow. That was enough to give me a second shot, but at a very poor angle. I had to shoot down at the sow's backbone, and I did not have any idea how effective the shot would be. Were it a boar, there would be protection on its shoulders that might well stop a normal bullet, and it was only a guess that one of my make-shift slugs could have penetrated.
However, this was a sow, and she did not have the boars protective plates on its back and shoulders, so I had a chance of doing some real damage. At this point, the sow was only about 25-30 feet away when I fired. Thank God, the slug hit the sow just to the left of her backbone and shattered her shoulder and many ribs. I don't know if it was a buckshot pellet from the slug that did it or a section of broken rib, but something penetrated her chest and killed her in only a second or so. This might reduce her value slightly, but all I really cared about at the moment was that Sam was safe.
After the usual routine with congratulating Sam, I had to move the buckboard in order to load the sow. She was so close to the buckboard that I could not use the windlass rope on her. She had almost slid under the buckboard before she stopped moving. I swear, for a few seconds, Sam lost his devil-may-care swagger, and sniffed cautiously at the carcass. However, once he was sure that she was dead, his old attitude returned, and he was ready to go after another hog as soon as I was ready.
Because of her position relative to the buckboard, this carcass took a little longer to load, but I was eventually ready and sent Sam after another hog. Sam had completely regained his nerve and was after another adult hog. It didn't take long for him to have another one chasing him, and the scenario was the same. This kill was almost routine as I hit the sow in the snout and killed her when the slug blew apart in her brain. This was almost boring to Sam after the previous close call, but he went through the routine and waited for me to load the carcass.
I sent him off for another hog, hopefully an adult, and he was gone in a flash. Yes, Sam reappeared with his characteristic being-chased bark, and I saw him running toward me with a relatively large adult hog behind him. This, too, appeared to be the expected sow because Sam had no trouble staying ahead of her. This was another routine kill, and I was happy. I think that Sam was, too, but he would not admit it.
We now had four adult hogs, and a glance at the sun told me that we had time for at least one more. Sam went out, and I reassumed my position on the buckboard bed. This resulted in another more or less routine kill in which I needed only one shot, but I saw that it was time to quit for the day. Sam was beginning to sag a little bit from being tired, though he was having so much fun that he did not want to quit. Nevertheless, I was concerned that he would get caught if we kept this up for too long. Besides, I was concerned that Mr. Benson could not accept so many carcasses so soon after the previous delivery.
Anyway, I decided not to press our luck and headed toward home. We did have time to swing by the place where I had put several rabbit snares. I had pulled them when it became apparent that there was not enough profit in rabbits for them to be worth hunting for sale. However, both Mary and I did like rabbit stew, so I figured that it was time to pick up another rabbit for such use. I had my .22 along, so I could easily shoot one if the opportunity arose.
No luck, and I could tell that Sam was not really interested in chasing rabbits so I just headed for home. We arrived with a few minutes to spare before noon, so I had not delayed dinner, and I was sure that Mary would appreciate that. We ate dinner and then I strung up the five hog carcasses to bleed out. I estimated that I had about 900 pounds of meat to sell tomorrow, and that was worth $63.
When I got to Winslow with my load of meat and drove to the butcher shop, I noticed a banner our front advertising "The Finest Wild Hog Meat in Bollard County." That was enough to make my head swell some because I knew that it was meat supplied by me that was being advertised. I parked the wagon at the back door of the butcher shop and went in. Man, I had a long wait this time because there were five customers waiting to be served. While they were there, the customers bought other things beside hog meat, so Mr. Benson was making money hand over fist. I was glad to see that because it meant that he would have plenty of hard cash to pay me for the new meat.
It was half an hour later that Mr. Benson finally had time for me. This time, he had a big smile for me and didn't wait to rush to see what I had in the wagon. He was so excited when he saw the five carcasses that I thought that he was about to do a little dance. "Jack, my friend, you are truly a boon to my business. I have customers now that I haven't seen for ages, and it is all due to you. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Now, let's weigh this load to see how much you will take from me this time."
The weight came to 967 pounds, and that was worth $67.69. Man, I felt like I was coining money! "Jack, that is great for me. I think that I can use between 900 and 1,000 pounds of hog carcasses at every delivery. A little over that might be even better, but don't push yourself too hard. I don't know how much it will take to saturate the market because we are drawing customers from out of town as my shop's reputation spreads over the quality of the meat. You are doing a wonderful job—please keep it up!"
"Thanks, Mr. Benson. I'll do my best to keep up both the quality and the quantity. It's almost as if I have found the mother lode of wild hogs. I'll see you on Friday, and I may have an extra carcass. Could you take seven of them if I can manage it?"
"Yeah, I guess that I could manage seven, but eight would definitely overload me. Okay, I'm looking forward to your Friday delivery. Goodby and good luck."
I left for home with the money and a hand shake. I was very happy for Mr. Benson because that meant a steady business for me. I kept a careful eye out on my way home, but nothing bad came up during the trip. Mary was very happy to see so much money from just one trip, and I could see her light up at the thought of her new sewing machine getting closer. We might be able to order the sewing machine after the Friday delivery if nothing special happened before then.
I was now determined to go for seven carcasses for the Friday delivery. That looked like a possibility because I would have two days to hunt. With that many, I knew that we could afford Mary's sewing machine.
Tuesday was a great night of sex with Mary, and it was almost enough to make me oversleep. That didn't happen, and I was at the Hanson farm in plenty of time to get in my quota of hunting. We picked up four adults and two pigs that morning with no close calls, so I figured that it was a blue ribbon day. I dropped by the Hanson farm house to leave one of the pigs for their Saturday dinner and to talk to Jeb if he were there.
He showed up as I was leaving for home, so I got to ask if there was another field that he wanted me to visit. I explained that I had taken all of the adults from the field where Sam and I had been working, and I wanted to shift to where I could find more adults. I also told him about the extensive damage to his field. We talked about it and agreed that he did need to re-seed the field. The lack of adult hogs would probably cut way down on the damage that was done after re-seeding.
He suggested another field that was easy to reach by the service path, and I said that I would give that one a try tomorrow. He thanked me for the pig that I had brought in, and I left for home. I was only a few minutes late for dinner, so Mary was not put out with me.
Jeb was right about there being plenty of hogs around at the new field. I counted 11 adults and didn't bother to count the youngsters. Sam and I set up like we had done on the other field and set out to harvest three adult hogs. I didn't want any more than that because of what Mr. Benson had said.
We had an easy morning and picked up the three adult kills in short order. There was so much time left in the morning that I figured to take four or five pigs to populate our smokehouse if Sam was up to it. Well, he was, and we came up with five pigs. That was all that we could handle because of the size of the smokehouse. It was a very pleasant trip home for dinner.
This load taxed the strength of my crossbeam by the time I had seven adult and five young hogs hanging on it to bleed out. If everything went well, I had my work cut out for me on Friday afternoon butchering those pigs for the smokehouse. The rest of Thursday afternoon was spent in getting the smokehouse ready for the smoking to start on Friday. It was likely that the work would extend into Saturday morning if there was any delay on Friday.
Meanwhile, Mary already had her order to Sears, Roebuck made out and ready to take to the post office to buy the money order. She was anxious to get the order out as soon as possible because the catalog said that there would be a wait of three to four weeks before the sewing machine could be delivered, and that time didn't start until Sears received the order.
Friday morning, Mary practically pushed me out of bed to start loading the meat onto the wagon. Of course, I had my other chores to do first while she fixed breakfast. We ate and got ready to go. This time, Mary was going with me into Winslow so that she could purchase the money order as soon as Mr. Benson paid me. She had the rest of our money with her so that she could be sure of having enough for the money order. It was difficult for me to suppress my laughter at the way she was on pins and needles the whole trip into Winslow.
When we got to the butcher shop, I told Mr. Benson that we were in a hurry so that Mary could get to the post office. He cooperated, and we got the seven carcasses weighed in record time. The weight came to 1274 pounds, and that was enough for $89.18. Hot Dog! We had more than enough for the sewing machine.
Mary practically bounced on the wagon seat while we drove to the post office. She hopped to the ground before I had a chance to help her, and she rushed into the post office and up to the counter. She got her money order, sealed it in the envelope with the purchase order, had the envelope stamped, and had the clerk put it in the mail sack while she watched. She was not going to allow for any mistake to cause a delay in getting that order out.
To celebrate the occasion, I took her to a restaurant for dinner. This was an important occasion, so I was not fazed by the 80¢ cost or the 5¢ tip. Mary was thrilled by the dinner because it was a very rare occasion for her to eat in one, and even more rare for me. We had a great ride home, but I knew that I still had a lot of work to do before dark.
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