Click Here for, DANCING WITH THE WILD BEAST, diary among friends of the Mozambique Bush

Hard Nosed Big Game Hounds

Hard Nosed Big Game Hounds
Click the pic for "The hard Nosed Pack"

Luwire Photographic Safaris

Luwire Photographic Safaris
Looking across the Lugenda from one of the camps

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Armadillo Down

Out this afternoon looking for trouble with trouble X 3, the Jagd Brothers, " Snatch and Tug", and a young Blackmouth Cur/Plott cross, "Madah". Chased a few armadillos to ground but I didn't bring a shovel so I pulled them off but let them get down a little.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

The Resting Place for Special Hounds, Coon Hounds! Only!

When I was a kid my Dad took me by the cemetery, we hunted a lot in that area. When I started high school my long time buddy Jeff M. Dad's hunting camp was just up the road from the cemetery so we were by there often. Always seemed like a natural thing to have Hounds buried there, I mean Coon Hounds, cause only approved Coon Hounds are allowed. I guess there are over a hundred now. Something about the spot, very peaceful and you feel the reverence.

Let not your hearts be troubled,
for in his master’s swamp are many den trees.
If it were not so, I would have told you.
He has gone to prepare a place for you
and where he has gone Ole Red will go also.
Dogs, they say, do not have souls.
They only have hide and bones.
But I believe there is a coon dog heaven
and Red is gone were the good coon dogs go.
Anybody that coon hunts has to believe in God.
If you have known the music of coon hounds on a trail
and heard the excitement in their voices when they strike,
and seen their eagerness and determination when they tree,
if you have seen their courage and bravery
in a tough fight with an old boar coon,
if you have heard their anguished cries and howls,
if you have seen the ugly gashes
and bleeding wounds
and witnessed their resolve to never quit,
you know there has to be a God to make an animal like that.
And a God that that would make a coon dog
won’t forget him when he is gone.
There is a coon dog heaven and Ole Red is there.
And every night he runs
and the den trees are there in the old swamp
and the old hunter’s moon hangs low in the west
and the coons don’t go up no slick barked trees
and the carbide don’t run out
and there ain’t no bull nettle and saw briars
and old master always knocks the coon out
and lets Ole Red grab him and give him a good shake;
and then he gets a pat on the head
and climbs back into the kennel in the back of the pick-up truck
and goes home and sleeps all day.
‘Cause he knows in coon dog heaven he can hunt again
when the sun goes down and the tree frogs holler.
May the bones of Ole Red rest in peace,
through the mercy of God
and may the coon hunters light perpetually shine upon him.

In a small, grassy meadow, deep in the rich, thick wilderness of Freedom Hills, Key Underwood sadly buried his faithful coondog, Troop. They had hunted together for more than 15 years. They had been close friends.

The burial spot was a popular hunting camp where coon hunters from miles around gathered to plot their hunting strategies, tell tall tales, chew tobacco and compare coon hounds. Those comparisons usually began and ended with Troop...he was the best around.

Underwood knew there was no place in the world Troop loved more than that camp. It was only fitting, he decided, that Troop spend eternity there. On that dreary Labor Day of 1937, Underwood said good-bye to his legendary coonhound. He wrapped Troop in a cotton pick sack, buried him three feet down, and marked the grave with a rock from a nearby old chimney. On the rock, with a hammer and a screwdriver he had chiseled out Troop's name and the date. A special marker was erected in his memory. (from the Coon Dog Cemetery Website) www.coondogcemetery.com

Friday, February 11, 2011

Me got no house; me all time moving; light fire, make tent, sleep; all time go hunt, how have house?" --Dersu Uzala Sihote'-Alin Range, Ussuria

Dersu Uzala (Russian: Дерсу Узала; alternate U.S. titles: With Dersu the Hunter and Dersu the Trapper) is the title of a 1923 book by the Russian explorer Vladimir Arsenyev. Arsenyev's book tells of his travels in the Ussuri basin in the Russian Far East. Dersu was the name of a Nanai hunter (who lived c. 1850–1908) who acted as a guide for Arsenyev's surveying crew from 1902 to 1907, and saved them from starvation and cold. Arsenyev portrays him as a great man. From 1907, Arsenyev invited Dersu to live in his house in Khabarovsk as Dersu's failing sight hampered his ability to live as a hunter. In the spring of 1908, Dersu bade farewell to Arsenyev and walked back to his home in the Primorsky Krai, where he died. According to Arsenyev's book, Dersu Uzala was murdered near the town of Korfovskiy and buried in an unmarked grave in the taiga.

A bit of translation of maybe the forward from the book.

The set of opening was made by Arsenyev, travelling in a jungle of Primorski Krai those aestivo-autumnal days 1906. The well-known traveller then was born and the first lines of a literary work which it will name " Dersu Uzala " have appeared. The unexpected meeting with the future hero of the book has taken place on August, 3. That day with sunrise everyone were already on legs and after a breakfast have gone upwards on the river Tadushi. As on a return way it was necessary to go the same road, Arsenyev has gone without work as all things, Whether including tools remained on Fudzine. Travellers hurried up as soon as possible to reach there. In a way he has met one more Chinese fanza in which they had dinner: hospitable owners have treated with their pel'menis. At another fanzy, built near to a trap ludevoj, have settled down on a lodging for the night. In the evening when all sat at a fire, and Arsenyev as usual did records in the diary, the man's voice was heard. Here is how this memorable episode in Arsenyev's book is described:
" Hello, - someone has told behind. I have turned back. Our fire had an elderly person of low growth, stocky, with a convex breast, a little bit bandy-legged. Its flat person has been covered with sunburn, and folds at eyes, on a forehead and cheeks eloquently spoke, that to it of years about 50. Small chestnut color rare moustaches, rare, in some voloskov, the beard, oustanding cheekbones at eyes exposed in it golda. It has lowered a gun a butt on the ground and started to light. It has been dressed in any rigid canvas jacket, manzovskie trousers and uly, in hands at it were soshki - an indispensable accessory of the foreigner. Its eyes small with povolokoj at extreme corners seem sharp-sighted and breathed mind, keenness and pride ".
On a question of travellers who it such, the newcomer with a shade of pride has answered, that it not the Chinese, and gold, lives in a taiga where extracts to itself livelihood.
- Call you as? - someone has asked golda.
- Name - Dersu, a surname - Uzala, - that has answered.
- Dersu Uzala? - Arsenyev has asked again. - And how it to transfer to Russian? What does it mean?
The hunter for a minute has reflected, and has then told with the same shade of pride:
- Mine think, that it means nothing, and the name and a surname is simple.
" I saw before myself the primitive hunter, - Vladimir Klavdievich recollected later, - which all life has lived in a taiga. From its words I have learned, that by a life it extracted means a gun and subjects of the hunting exchanged at Chinese for tobacco, lead and gunpowder and that the rifle has got to it in a heritage from father. Then it has told to me, that to it now fifty three years, that at it never was at home, it eternally lived open-air and only arranged to itself time jurtu from korja or beresty " in the winter.
Talking with the hunter - goldom about a life, listening to its artless stories about taiga wanderings, about hunting, Arsenyev understood more and more, that does not want to leave this person, that both of them - it, the officer, evolved in city family, and the tramp gold, hardly probable knowing the letter, are connected something blood, invisible, but so strong, that does not allow them to go away in the different parties. Next day Arsenyev has made the most brief record in the diary: " in the Morning gold Dersu Uzala on again set question: whether " It agree to act a conductor? " Has expressed the consent. Since this moment it became a member of expedition ".
Let's add - and the hero of the well-known book. How V.K.Arseneva's travelling diary was in detail conducted by summer of 1906, it is possible to draw a conclusion, that the traveller planned to issue it completely. But later it has departed this plan and has preferred an art variant of the description of the taiga life with Dersu Uzala.

Would have been nice to have set and talked with either of these men.

Tuesday, June 6 2006, 01 AM ← →
Famous Explorer to Retrace Arsenyev’s Ussuri Taiga Trek
Adventurer will repeat route that was first passed exactly 100 years ago.
Vladivostok, May 29, PrimaMedia. The well-known Russian adventurer Leonid Kruglov will embark on June 5 on a journey to the Ussuri taiga that will follow the original route of the famous explorer Vladimir Arsenyev and his guide Dersy Uzala. The route has been determined by diaries that were left by Arsenyev. “GEO” magazine and the Cultural Council of Primorsky Krai are sponsoring the journey.

The travelers will raft down mountain rivers, traverse the Sihote-Alin range, and explore northern Primorye on horses that have been donated by horseracing club “Russian Troika.”

After the journey, the travelers will make a photo exhibition and a documentary film that will be aired on central TV channels.

Leonid Kruglov will be the film’s director, photographer and documenter. Kruglov has already traveled to Tibet, Ethiopia, New Guinea, Zaire, Uganda, Taimir, Altai, South America, and many other places. He is also the author of “GEO” magazine and is a host of the television program “Dialogue with the World,” which is shown on REN-TV.

Looking for the book and movie, will let you know when I read and watch it. Got to be good.

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About Me

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I’m a Southern Boy, just 56 last November, I get around here and there, Central America, Africa, Red Bay. I’m a Father, Grandfather, Husband, Artist and general flunky of sorts. Live in a little historic town in an old building I remodeled. Just wanted to hear myself think I guess, talk about the need of simplification, show some art, express an interest or two, brag on my dogs and see where it goes. That’s it!, That’s the deal, Thanks