By Maribeth Darby
3 tales recreate lifestyles within the forests of East Texas at diverse instances: the pioneer's woodland, 1863; the logger's wooded area, 1920; and environmentalist vs. lumberman, 1996.
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Extra info for The Land of Whistlepunks & Wild Things: Our Forests of Yesterday and Today
Teeth marks of beavers and river otters marked stumps left from last year's dam building. Clyde came to a place where a storm had uprooted huge trees. Top-heavy hardwood trees without tap roots often fell in high winds when the ground was very wet. Here, fallen beech and cypress lay stacked like dominoes slung across a table. Roots stretched higher than his head. Where the roots had pulled out, hollow spaces were left. Ahah! he thought. One of these places might make a perfect cave. The ground under the fallen trees was fairly high and dry.
Granny said there was no end of the forest game, but Clyde hated to waste a beautiful deer unless it was needed. Worst of all, Quincy had used a pine knot torch with a reflecting metal pan behind it, called a fire pan, to blind the trusting deer in the dark. Deer were so tame that it was easy enough to kill them in the daylight. Page 10 Thinking of Quincy's greed, a heat of outrage filled Clyde's body. He swallowed. Let it go, he thought. You can't let Quincy see you. The dogs barked and started in his direction.
I'll remind him he's squatting on our land. After a bit, he'll barter some sort of firearm for a Page 5 little cornmeal. '' A mischievous light showed in her faded eyes. " Clyde pushed his pale blond hair from his eyes and plopped back down in his chair. Granny took off her spectacles and rubbed her nose. "I reckon he would, at that. " She stopped rocking and met Clyde's blue eyes. " "I won't go to war. " "You could chop off your trigger finger like Si Foster did. " Clyde stared at her, dropping his jaw in surprise.