“Skillit.”

  “Your name’s Skillit?”

  “That’s all I ever been knowed as. Skillit.”

  “Well, Skillit, I sure would like to hear what you’ve got to say for yourself. But I know you’re about to starve, so let’s go to the house and see to your belly first. We’ll talk later.”

  “That would sho’ be fine. But just don’t let them wolves get to me.”

  “They ain’t wolves,” Zech said again. “They’s dogs. Their names are Nip and Tuck. And they can catch any cow you ever seen.”

  “I just bet they can,” Skillit said.

  ***

  Tobias watched the black man as he wolfed down the bowl of stewed squash and then chomped a fried coon leg, bone and all. Emma watched too, thinking that he was about the hungriest man she had ever seen. She said, “Would you like more squash? That’s the last piece of coon meat till I cook some more.”

  “I sho’ would, missus. I’d be right proud to et another bowl. You be’s a fine cook, a fine one.”

  Tobias said, “Soon as I get a smokehouse built I aim to shoot a cow. Fresh meat wouldn’t keep no time at all in this heat. We’ll have beef soon as I’m done with the smokehouse.”

  “I ain’t never et a smoked cow,” Skillit said, stuffing his mouth with squash. “Only hog. And not much of that. Sow belly mostly.”

  “It’s right good,” Tobias said. “I smoked one once before when we lived up in the scrub.”

  Zech said, “You ride a horse? I bet you ain’t never seen a horse like Ishmael. He’s a marshtackie.”

  “I’ve rid plenty of them,” Skillit said. “And mules too. When I was a boy I used to ride a goat. Turn your back on him, he’d knock you over a fence.”

  Zech was fascinated by the black man. He said, “You been a slave?”

  “Zech!” Emma snapped. “Why you ask him a question like that?”

  “It’s all right, missus. I been that too. I was born on a plantation in Georgia. My daddy and my granddaddy was slaves. When I was four years old I was sold to a man at Tallahassee and went to the farm there. I guess I’d still be a slave had’n been for the war.”

  “What happened to you after the war?” Tobias asked.

  “When the war ended they said all us was free, and we could do whatever we wanted. Some folks went up North, and some stayed where they was. I claimed me a little piece of land and built me a cabin on it, and then I started to farm. Had a fine garden. Wad’n long after that that some men come to the house one night. Said they didn’t want no black man buildin’ a house or runnin’ a farm. They was all dressed in white sheets and had hoods over their faces. I told them I was supposed to be free and I didn’t see how a garden could hurt nobody. They rawhided me good, whupped me like I ain’t never been whupped befo’. Then they tromped down my garden with their horses and set fire to the cabin. Ever since then I been driftin’ south, sleepin’ wherever I could, and stealin’ chickens when I could find one. I guess someday I got to find me a place and stop.”

  “They whup you with a whip?” Zech asked.

  “They sho’ did.”

  “We got a whip that kills rabbits and squirrels and coons and rattlers too. You want to see it?”

  “Zech!” Emma said again. “He don’t want to see no whip. Hush up now, and let Skillit talk. We want to hear.”

  “That’s about the end of it,” Skillit said. “I guess I should ’a turned north ’stead of south. They don’t seem to be nothin’ down here but woods and swamps. You the first white folks ever give me a meal.”

  “Where will you go from here?” Tobias asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t even know where I’m at now.”

  “So far as I know there ain’t nothing in the far south but swamp and Indians,” Tobias said. “I’ve never met a white man who’s been there. It was Indians from down there who gave us the marshtackie and dogs. They was Seminoles.”

  “How come they do that?” Skillit asked.

  “We done them a favor once. I got a idea, Skillit. Why don’t you stay on here for a while? You would be a big help to me and Zech. We couldn’t pay you nothing, ’cause we ain’t got nothing. But we could build you a little cabin to stay in. The garden ought to come in soon, and if you help me with the smokehouse, we’ll kill us a cow.”

  “You mean you’d let me stay here?” Skillit asked, not sure he was hearing what Tobias said.

  “What do you say, Emma?” Tobias asked.

  “It’s fine with me. He would be a big help to you and Zech. And it’s just as easy to cook for four as three. It won’t be no bother at all.”

  “Will you stay?” Tobias asked.

  “I sho’ will!” Skillit said, grinning and flashing the ivory teeth. “I’s awful tired of driftin’. I’m beholdin’ to you, Mistuh Tobias! And to you, Missus Emma! I never knowed them wolves was doin’ me such a favor by putting me in them bushes.”

  “They ain’t wolves,” Zech said. “They’s dogs.” Then he turned to Tobias and said, “Can Skillit ride your horse, Pappa? I found an eagle nest down by the river, and I want to show it to him. It’s got babies in it. Can he, Pappa?”

  “He can ride whenever he wants.”

  Zech jumped up and said, “Come on Skillit! But you better watch that big ole horse. He ain’t no marshtackie. He runsstraight, and if you don’t watch him he’ll knock you off on a tree.”

  When he reached the door, Skillit turned and said, “Soon’s we’re back we’ll start on that smokehouse, Mistuh Tobias. It won’t take us no time at all to build one. No time at all.”

  Zech grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door, saying, “Come on, Skillit! Come on!”

  Tobias and Emma were both smiling.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Athin spiral of smoke drifted upward as Tobias put on more wood and placed the branding iron on the fire. Zech and Skillit stood just outside the gate, waiting for the iron to get hot.

  Inside the pen, six cows milled about, poking their huge horns at the rails, trying to find a weak spot in the fence. Nip and Tuck were lying under a huckleberry bush, panting from the heat.

  Tobias said, “It’s ready now. Zech, you do the tying when Skillit gets one on the ground.”

  “Don’t need no rope,” Skillit said. “That just take up more time. You just stand back out of the way, Mistuh Zech. Let me handle it.”

  Skillit was shirtless, and his black skin glistened with sweat. Summer was boring in now with its full fury, and it seemed that even the water of the river was warm.

  When Tobias came over to the pen, Skillit went inside and grabbed a cow by the horns. In one quick motion he had it on the ground and was on top of it. Muscles became taut in his arms and back as the bull struggled uselessly. Tobias pushed the branding iron to flesh, then Skillit released it and grabbed another one. In an instant the cow was on the ground and the iron made its mark again.

  Tobias said, “Lordy, Skillit, with you here we can brand as many cows in a half hour as it used to take me and Zech a week. You’re the strongest man I ever seen.”

  “It ain’t nothin’ workin’ these little ole cows. I could down a mule if’n I had to.”

  As soon as the branding was finished, the cows were turned loose. Tobias said, “That’s about enough for today. It’s too hot to do this. Let’s go on back and finish your cabin.”

  Skillit picked up his shirt and said, “Mistuh Tobias, what you gone ever do with all these cows? You can’t et all of them, not even with someone around with a belly like mine.”

  Tobias scratched his head. “You know, I ain’t never thought of that. Me and Zech stayed so busy trying to catch one and put on a mark, I never put no mind to what I’d do if we did catch it. I been told that come spring we ought to round them up and let them graze as a herd on the prairie. They sure don’t seem to gain no weight in these woods. After that I guess we ought to sell them sommers. They ain’t worth a red cent to us roaming the woods. But I don’t rightly know where to take them for the selling.”

  “Place where I stayed had a lot of cattle. During the war they all went to the soldiers, but they sho’ ain’t no Confederate army around no more to buy ’em.”

  “Next time I go to the trading post I’ll ask Elias Thompson. He ought to know. But they sure don’t put nothing in your pocket like this. We need to get us some cash money.”

  “What’s that?” Skillit asked, grinning. “In all my life I ain’t never had even a single coin of my own. I guess you done noticed these cracker sack britches ain’t got no pockets.”

  “You will,” Tobias said. “We’ll just keep on marking like we got good sense. It ain’t costing us nothing to brand them.”

  They were about halfway to the clearing when a shrill tooting sound came from the direction of the river. Zech stopped his horse and said, “What’s that, Pappa? I ain’t never heard no bull holler like that.”

  “I’d say it’s a steam whistle,” Tobias said. “I ain’t heard a sound like that since we left Georgia.”

  “I’ve heard it before,” Skillit said. “Trains up to Tallahassee made that sound when they wanted to run cows off the tracks.”

  “Well, there ain’t no train out there coming through the woods,” Tobias said, “so it must be on the river. Elias Thompson told me he heard the boats was going to run the river again down to Okeechobee. That must be one of them. He said they might want to buy stuff or trade. Let’s go and see.”

  The whistle blew again just as they reached the river, then the boat came into view. It was a stern-wheeler, forty feet long, with black smoke boiling from its one stack. The deck was crowded with crates, and a sign across the wheelhouse said MARY BELLE.

  Tobias jumped up and down, waving his arms and shouting as the boat came abreast of them. Then the stern-wheel was reversed, sending bubbling brown water rushing beneath the boat and into the bank. The boat stopped slowly, backed up, and turned into the bank.

  A man came out to the rail and shouted, “What is it? You want passage down to Okeechobee?”

  “No,” Tobias answered. “You want to buy something, or trade?”

  “What you got?”

  “What you want?”

  “Crazy fellow!” the man shouted. “You stop us for a fool question like that? You got something to sell, say it!”

  Tobias said, “We got beef.”

  “What kind?”

  “Cows.”

  The man shook his head, exasperated. “All beef is cows! Are you talking about them wild swamp critters?”

  “We catch ’em in the swamp.”

  “No! I don’t want none of the scrawny yellowhammers! They don’t even make good soup. You got deer?”

  “We could.”

  “Pay you three cents a pound, dressed. But it’s got to be fresh killed. If it ain’t, you can just feed it to the buzzards. We’ll be back by here three days from now.”

  “How about ’gator hides?” Tobias asked.

  “Two bucks each if they’re big enough.”

  “Coons?”

  “Twenty five cents a hide.”

  “That the best you can do?”

  Just then the whistle shrieked loudly, causing both horses to buck. The man shouted, “We ain’t got all day, you idiot! You got something to sell, be back here in three days!” Then the boat pulled away from the bank and continued downstream.

  “Seemed to be a mite riled up, didn’t he?” Tobias said.

  “I guess,” Skillit said, trying to calm the horse.

  “They must be a hundred ’gators in that big pond down by the hickory flat,” Tobias said. “We get ’em all, that’s more money than I ever seen.”

  “Could be,” Skillit said. “But a ’gator don’t part with his hide easy. Don’t count yo’ money yet.”

  Zech said, “Pappa, why don’t me and Skillit ride back to the woods and see if we can find deer signs? We’ll be back to the clearing real soon.”

  “While you do that I’ll go on to the house and tell Emma. That whistle probably scared her real good.”

  Tobias watched as Skillit mounted the horse. He said, “You know, Skillit, it’s a good thing we got that big ole army horse. You get on one of them marshtackies your feet would drag the ground.”

  “That’s the God’s truth,” Skillit said. “That little hoss ain’t made fo’ a big fellow like me. I’d as soon ride that goat I had when I was a boy.”

  “We find a deer trail you want us to put Nip and Tuck on it?” Zech asked.

  “Nope. You heard the man say it has to be fresh killed. I ain’t wasting a bullet on buzzard bait. We’ll go after a ’gator first.”

  ***

  They set out for the pond early the next morning, Tobias and Zech on the horses and Skillit following, carrying an axe, a six-foot cypress pole, and a length of rope. Just past the hickory flat they tied the horses to a bush and walked the remaining distance. Nip and Tuck had been left behind at the house for fear they would strike the scent of a cow and go after it alone.

  The bank of the pond was covered thickly with button bush and pickerel weed, but on the south side a mud flat formed an open area that ran forty feet out into the water. A fallen cypress limb to the left of the flat was covered solidly with turtles, and at the sound of approaching footsteps, they rolled over sideways and splashed into the water.

  Six alligators were lying on the flat, motionless, their jaws cocked open. They paid no heed as the two men and a boy came to within thirty feet of them and stopped. If they were even aware of the intruders, they did not show it.

  Skillit said, “How we going to go about this, Mistuh Tobias? I ain’t never even tried to kill a ’gator.”

  “Me neither. But it appears they’re sleeping. That ought to make it easy.”

  For a few moments they just looked, and then Tobias said, “We’ll try the one nearest to us. Ease in there, Skillit, and bash him on the head with that pole. Then me and Zech will come in and help pull him out.”

  “Are you sho’ about this?” Skillit asked. “What if he don’t bash? He got a mighty hard-lookin’ head to me.”

  “That pole could knock down a bull. Just give him a good one.”

  Skillit eased forward, and when he stepped out onto the flat, his feet sank down into the mud. He took two more steps forward, each time making a sucking sound with his shoes; then suddenly the alligators started hissing.

  Skillit looked back and said, “What I do now? Them things is givin’ me a warnin’, like a rattlesnake.”

  “They ain’t even looking at you,” Tobias said. “That hissing don’t mean nothing. They can’t bite you with their heads turned away from you.”

  As Skillit took another step forward, the hissing grew louder. The alligators were sideways to him, still motionless. He pulled one foot from the muck and leaped forward as best he could, lifting the pole above his head. Before he could start the downswing, the nearest alligator whirled around quickly and charged, its massive jaws snapping wildly. The pole came down and hit the alligator on top of its head, then it bounced away, ricocheting off the fallen cypress tree and landing in the water ten feet beyond.

  Skillit fell backward into the mud and rolled over. He struggled free just as the alligator’s jaws snapped to within a foot of his face. Then he scrambled up the bank and ran back to Tobias and Zech.

  “I told you!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I done told you them things don’t part with their hides easy! What we gone do now?”

  Three of the alligators pushed off into the water and swam away. One of the remaining ones was still hissing, and the other two became silent again.

  “I guess I’ll just have to shoot one,” Tobias said. “He can’t bounce off a bullet like he did that pole.” He took the rifle from its holster and came closer to the flat. “I best hit him halfway up from his tail, around where the heart ought to be. If I hit him in the snout it probably wouldn’t do nothing but make him mad.”

  Tobias aimed carefully and fired. The alligator jumped two feet sideways and lay still as the other two scrambled into the water.

  “Let’s just stay back a minute and see if he moves,” Tobias said.

  They continued to watch, and then Tobias said, “He’s dead for sure. Let’s go in and get him, Skillit. Zech, you stay up here out of the way.”

  As they started across the flat Tobias said, “I’ll get the tail and you get his head. The way he’s lying, we’ll have to pull him out sideways.”

  Skillit had just reached the head when Tobias grabbed the tail and jerked it. The huge tail lashed out like a whip, striking Tobias in the side. He landed six feet out in the water and went under. The ’gator then whirled around, jaws snapping, and caught the bottom of Skillit’s pants in its teeth. Skillit kicked frantically, trying to break free, shouting, “Oh Lordy! Oh Lordy!”

  Tobias came up spitting water, and then he managed to shout, “Get the gun, Zech! Shoot him! In the head, Zech! Shoot!”

  Zech scrambled for the rifle as Skillit’s pants were jerked off, making flapping sounds as the ’gator swished its head from side to side, popping the cloth in the air.

  Zech aimed quickly and fired, and was knocked flat on his back. The alligator pumped blood from a hole directly between the eyes. He bucked up and down for a moment and then became still.

  Tobias and Skillit scrambled up the bank simultaneously. Skillit said, “That darn ’gator done tore up my britches, Mistuh Tobias! What I gone do? That the only pair I got!”

  “Emma can patch ’em,” Tobias said, still spitting water. “Don’t worry about it. You all right, Zech?”

 

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