emerge from the buds on the trees on which they live. Year after year, 249 of them to be exact, the giant Post Oak, growing near the meadow on the side of the hill, had produced its crop of new leaves. It is always an exciting time in the forest with the newborn twin fawns and baby rabbits running wildly around. The expectant birds were busy building a nest in which to lay their eggs. If you are a tree it can be a noisy time of the year, with the cries of all the baby leaves. Noise, you say! Sure, but only the trees can hear it. Haven't you ever been in the woods on a quiet, windless day, hearing the whispers of the trees visiting, telling the tales of times gone by, of magnificent Buck Deer, of the Indians and the Pioneers who wandered over the land, of Fires, Droughts, and years of Plenty? The cries of the baby leaves never bothered the mother Post Oak because the years had taught her that soon the young leaves would be hard at the task of producing food from the nutrients brought up the tree from the roots. The leaves lived only during the cool, hot, cool period of each year and had to grow rapidly in the warm sunlight. Library of Congress #TXU001067536 |
John had been swimming in the creek a short way from his home when it happened. Without warning, water came rushing down the canyon, sweeping everything in its path downstream. John, being young and inexperienced, did not against the force, he was being swept far away from his home. He was dazed and getting tired, but he kept struggling to keep control. A huge log came crashing at him, but he dove down deep toward the bottom of the stream to escape it. John looked up to see it twisting and crashing into the rocks. He tried to swim toward the edge of the creek, but the current was too strong. Finally, in a desperate attempt to get out of the powerful flow, he turned around and started swimming with the water instead of against it. He was surprised how much easier it was until he realized that he was going downstream so fast! He went farther and farther away from his mother, his brothers and his sisters. John had been washed several miles downstream. It was water his mother had told him to stay out of. The stream began to get deeper and widen out. He could tell that the power of the water was beginning to lessen but he was so tired that it continued to carry him downstream. He used every ounce of strength to keep upright and to prevent crashing into underwater obstacles. He looked down into the water, which was becoming muddy. He saw a powerful old flathead catfish using his broad tail to swim into the strong current. He wished that he could swim like the catfish, but he was not as strong or as experienced as this monster. Library of Congress TX0006521221 |
granddaughter, asked me to tell a bedtime story. I started making up a tale about a larger-than-life person that rode a giant chicken al the way around the earth. Dangerous Dan seemed like a good name for this mountain man. The next morning my daughter Julie, who had overheard the tale, suggested that I write the story down. So I did. From then on, the grandchildren’s, (also including Kayl and Kendie) bedtime stories were “The Amazing Tales of Dangerous Dan”. I started adapting various old stories told to me when I was a kid. My Uncle Ferg told me a version of “The Long-Shooting Shotgun” and “The Great Hunt”, on which I elaborated just a bit. Well, quite a lot. Another older hunter told me the basic unknown fish story, on which I developed in even more detail. The rest of the stories are purely my imagination. Short stories are fun to write because you get through quickly and can see the finished product sooner. Have fun reading “The Amazing Tales of Dangerous Dan”. By the way, "Spot" is my grandkid's dog--Oscar. Library of Congress TX0006963708 |
Deerstand Publishing Jack Earl Curtis, author |
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