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Part
III: “Here a Pig, There a Pig”
Third and Final Event of the Pig Trilogy
By Linda Kirkpatrick | |
The
Texas Boars web site has a lot of scary hog information. For instance, of the
254 counties in the state of Texas, 225 have feral
hogs. I wish that I knew what those remaining counties are doing to keep those
pesky critters on the other side of the county line. The estimated population
of hogs in Texas is well over 2,000,000. A sow will
breed at about 6 months of age and she can produce about 1,000 little piglets
in a five year period. I saw, with my very own eyes, a sow with three litters
following along behind and I assumed that they were all hers because there were
no other pigs around. I have since learned that there are “pig sitters.” In other
words one sow will keep other litters in tow while the other mama sows are off
feeding. Who knew? This is a great plan for these omnivores.
One factor
in the population growth of the feral hog is the trap and release program. I never
could understand why in the world you would want to trap them and then turn them
loose again but maybe I can find a trap and release expert to answer that question.
Another factor is the rapid reproduction, sometimes two or three litters a year.
Today in Real County there are several dedicated “hog hunters” and they don’t
understand catch and release if you get my drift. I will introduce you to a few
of these unique people. There are many hunters in this community with wonderful
stories however I don’t have room in this column but who knows…maybe later, on
another page you will find the rest of the stories. |
Bob
Ramsey
Bob is one of the most notable hog hunters around these parts
and is at the top or close to it for the number that he has eliminated in the
area. He is a great story teller. I first heard his story telling ability when
I was in the 6th grade. He spoke to our 4-H club on the art of rattling up a buck.
I was spellbound and could not wait to get home and try it. In Bob’s book, “As
Texas as It Gets” he gives a brief history of how the Russian hog arrived in Texas.
He also states that by 1999 he had reduced the feral hog population by 925.
Bob was born in 1918 on the very ranch where I grew up, the north-west part
of the Frio Canyon and as of a few years ago the old house was still standing.
Bob still lives on his ranch in the north part of Real County, tells
stories and takes his friends on hog hunts. |
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Joe Moffett
The Moffett Ranch joined the ranch where I grew up. I remember seeing Joe
and his dad mounted on mules or horses. With a few hog dogs trailing along behind,
they ventured across the hills hunting the hogs that lunched on their livestock.
Today, Joe is 92 years old and still runs traps catching every hog he can! |
Four
Generations of Hog Hunting
R. L. Hubbard
R.L. Hubbard, born in 1909 in Menard, Texas moved his
young family to the Frio Canyon in 1942. From an early age, R. L. took part in
the hog drives to the rail heads and then became an avid hog hunter.
L. V. Hubbard
L.V., like his dad loves to hunt and run the hogs. L.
V. not only hunts and traps hogs but guides hunts as well.
Langtry
Hubbard
Langtry is the third Hubbard to use hog hunting and guiding as
a means of support for his family.
Heidi and Wyldon Hubbard
As 4th generation hog hunters, Heidi (age 7) and Wyldon (age 5) are following
in the footsteps of their ancestors both have already bagged their first hog.
The children of Langtry and Amy Hubbard, they are learning the art of trapping
and hunting hogs at an early age. These two young hunters are delighted to go
with their dad to check traps and hunt hogs. Of course at their young age gun
and hunter safety is a must as it is for most country kids. |
Davis Robertson
Davis Robertson used to hunt on the H. W. Lewis Ranch, north of Leakey,
the same ranch where Bob Ramsey was born. My dad, Alton Kirkpatrick, leased the
upper Lewis ranch and it was there that I spent my growing up days. In an old
photo, a small pig was shown, which was bayed by hog dogs and killed with a 30-30.
I am quite sure that this hog had to have been related to some of the hogs that
ended up on our dinner table.
Davis is descended from A. G. Weston, an
early settler to the Frio Canyon. A. G. Weston owned several businesses in Leakey
during the early 1900’s. Today, Davis owns and operates the Robertson Feed Store,
a must in a ranching and hunting community and a continuation of family tradition.
A photo of Davis and the hog hangs on the wall in the feed store. |
Woodrow
& Huey McCarson
This story is from an interview with Woodrow and Huey
McCarson. Woodrow and Huey are descended from lion hunters in Africa but they
don’t let this stand in their way of treeing and occasional coon or possum. What
they don’t understand is their friend Bob’s aversion to them hunting pigs. They
know that if they could go on a real hog hunt just one time that they would make
old Bob proud but old Bob just won’t let them near a pig of any kind.
One day, much to their surprise, Bob loaded them up in his old beat up Ford F150
and to top it all off they never got to ride in the bed of the truck like other
dogs. They had to ride in the back seat on an old blanket. They would certainly
enjoy the wind blowing in their ears and jumping at tree limbs as Bob would drive
through the pastures. They knew that these pleasures they would never know. Rascal,
the Blue Tick from down the road, had told them of his adventures from the bed
of the truck but Bob really didn’t even want them associating with Rascal. He
said that Rascal had ticks and fleas and never bathed but could he tell a great
story.
The day started out as a usual day of feeding cubes and counting
cows and calves. On the way back to the main house, Bob suddenly hit the brakes
and Woodrow and Huey hit the floor board. What could have caused this unusual
behavior in Bob? Woodrow and Huey were scrambling, trying to get their footing
when Bob opened the door and yelled, “Sic’em!” Well, to these two Rhodesian Ridgebacks
it was like yelling, “Soup’s on!” And then Bob yelled those glorious words, “Get
the pig!” While Woodrow was trying to get his best “bay” out it was Huey who bailed
over him and grabbed the unsuspecting hogzilla but before Bob could utter, “That’s
good!” Huey had that stunned five pound shoat in his mouth and had jumped right
back into the back seat of the truck. Now Huey could not grin back at Bob as long
as he had that pig in his mouth so he dropped the little squealer and grinned
and howled delightfully. Bob on the other hand was in shock. He had two large
hounds in the back seat baying to high heaven and a loose pig under the seat.
Things were quite exciting in that truck for a few minutes. Can you
just imagine two Rhodesian Ridgebacks baying in harmony, a frightened 5 pound
porker squealing the high notes and a very upset Bob not knowing what to do next?
All ended well when Bob captured the monster pig, Woodrow and Huey settled
down on their blanket feeling pleased as punch and Joan, Bob’s wife was none too
happy with any of them for now she had a baby pig to bottle. Woodrow and Huey
dreamed happy thoughts that night and could not wait to meet up with Rascal and
share their hog story with him.
Now I admit, I have been on a few hog
hunts just because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I think that I
will take up live trapping the hogs. Yep, I will use my unsuspecting friend, Jim
Nelson as the bait. Jim is from Wyoming and he really wants a baby Javalina. I
will just tell him to sit in this big hog catching pen and when the Javalina come
in he can just sneak up behind one and nab it. He will never know that the feral
hogs will get to the feed pen first! This should be fun and entertaining and I
know that the video will sell. Jim and his brother Andy have their own pig roping
story but then again it will be on another page somewhere! |
| It
is time to end this little pig tale. Since I am a cowboy poet I would like to
bring this all to a close with this poem written by the 1949—1951 Texas Poet Laureate,
Carlos Ashley. The poem is from his book “That Spotted Sow and other Texas Hill
Country Ballads.” The book, published in 1941, is now out of print. |
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That
Spotted Sow
Or
The Ballad of Cedar Mountain
By Carlos Ashley
Did you ever hear the story
Of that famous hog of mine?
She’s a
razorback and spotted
Black and white from hoof to spine.
With a
snout made outa granite,
She can root just like a plow;
And the fence
ain’t been invented
That can turn that spotted sow.
Born and bred
on Cedar Mountain
She is wilder than a deer;
And she’s known by reputation
To the ranch hands far and near.
Though a sow of mine had raised
‘er,
On that mountain she was free;
And I always kinda doubted
That
she really b’longed to me.
She didn’t claim no owner—
Save the
God who put ‘er there—
And for mortal man’s relations
She just simply
didn’t care.
She preferred the solemn silence
Of her Cedar Mountain
home,
And most of all she wanted us
To let ‘er plum alone.
Ever Fall I’d try to mark ‘er
But she’d get away agin;
And I reckon
that my cussin,
Though artistic, was a sin.
Well, I sold my brand
in ’30-
Moved out ever hog and cow;
Rounded-up…yea…all but one head,
All but that blamed spotted sow.
So we organized against ‘er—
Got the best of dogs and men’
But we never got good started
Putting that
hog in a pen.
Now we really went a-huntin
When we tried to catch
Ole Spot;
We left the ranch at daylight
And her trail was always hot.
She might be pickin acorns
On the banks of Sandy Creek.
Or
in somebody’s turnips
Cultivatin, so to speak.
But let the foot
of dog or man
Disturb the morning dew.
And you might as well a phoned
‘er,
Cause somehow she always knew.
She’d light out for Cedar Mountain
Where the land and sky divide
There ain’t no spot on earth nowhere
A better place to hide.
We’d hear the pack a-bayin
Up the
mountain loud and clear.
But before we rode up to ‘em
That ole sow would
disappear
Or she’d rally ‘gainst a boulder,
Bristlin like a porcupine,
Till a dog forgot his caution
Then she’d cut him into twine.
Killin dogs was just a pastime
To that hog; I’m tellin you
With them
long, curved, knife like tushes
She could slice a houn in two.
She
could whip most any critter
On four legs I ever saw
And she had a perfect
record
Cause she never fought a draw.
Now the more I tried to catch
her
And the more I give it thought
I begin to get the notion
She’s
opposed to bein’ caught
I couldn’t help admire that sow.
When all
was done and said
For, to tell the truth about ‘er
She was really thoroughbred.
She had character and courage
And the heart to do the right
And when it come to fightin
Now she shore as hell could fight.
Well, the Fall froze into Winter
And the Winter thawed to Spring
April
watered hill and valley
Maytime painted ever’thing
Late one evenin
just at sundown
I was ridin home right slow,
When I passed a lonesome
waterhole
And saw…..it was a show.
Ole Spot was trailin down the
hill
And right behind her trotted
Ten baby pigs not ten days old
And ever one was spotted.
I stopped and stared, she studied me
My
eyes filled like a fountain’
And there I gave ole Spot a deed
A deed
to Cedar Mountain
Now I was taught that folks who try
You oughta
help and praise em
So, “Boys,” I sez, “Ole spots’ got pigs,
And, damn
sure gonna raise ‘em.
She’s still on Cedar Mountain
Though I seldom
see ‘er now.
You can bet that’s one dominion
Where the Queen’s a spotted
sow.
Permission
to use Mr. Ashley’s poem given by his son, Carlos Ashley, Jr. |
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