Eight

            I remember when the chestnut trees were still around before the blight killed them.  How I used to get a lot of nice big fat gray squirrels with my 22 rifle.  I’d sit and wait, keeping real still, if I moved a little they’d all hide or keep to the trees and limbs between me and them.  But when they stuck their head out to see if I was still there I had them.  The hickory trees were the greatest place to sit and wait too.  I used to think to myself, as I sat there waiting, boy, a tree that grew meat and nuts.  The black walnut trees where very few.  I remember only seeing one of them, but I always had trouble getting the meat out of them and the hickory nuts too.

            I used to think I was safe and nothing could hurt me as long as I had my little old 22 rifle but one day I found out different.  I found a yellow jacket nest hanging from a little limb.  It was about as bit a 2 qt. jar and as always I got the bright idea of shooting it down.  I sat down about thirty feet away and shot once or twice in it but nothing happened so I decided to cut the little limb off.  After three or four shots it was jarring the nest so the bees were coming out but they stayed close to the nest.  I thought, boy, I got you now.  After about seven or eight more shots the limb was cut, the nest hit some other limbs on the way down and broke apart.  When it hit the ground it looked like there were a million bees in the air all around, including where I sat.

            Man oh man, did I move, rifle, or no rifle, I found out it wasn’t safe no more.  I forgot to grab my box of shells I had sitting on the ground.  I must of run 500 or 600 ft before I run out of bees.  They just kept following me for a long ways.  I ended up with an empty rifle and no shells but I sure was a little more wiser than when I left the house.  Just another lesson learned.  I had to wait two or three days to go back and get my box of shells.  Things were quieted down by then, and I never did mess around with any more bees.