Read Online Shadow Country by Peter Matthiessen - Free Book Online
Authors: Peter Matthiessen
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massacres. The gator trade was pretty close to finished.
Them wilder Injuns up the southwest rivers was close to finished, too, though they didnât know it. Injuns, now, they never had good guns nor traps, and bein lazy and not greedy, they only took enough to trade for what they needed. They never killed âem out, not the way we done.
Ted Smallwood never cared to say if all that slaughter was in Godâs service or not, but he sure had some nice cash set aside, cause pretty soon he bought the whole Santini claim on Chokoloskee. Santinis being one of our pioneer families, some folks was surprised to see âem pull up stakes. Dolphusâs brotherâs wifeâs sister was Netta Daniels who had a child by Watson, and maybe that time at Key West, Dolphus said something ugly about Watsonâs morals that he wished he hadnât. Anyway he sold his place, sailed around to the east coast at the Miami River, about as far from E. J. Watson as he could get.
ERSKINE THOMPSON
Mister Watson had a wife and children but never said too much about âem in front of my mother, Henrietta Daniels, who come to keep house for us at the Bend the year before. I thought they must be crazy to get into the same bed the way they done first night she got there but she said she loved him and she went ahead and had his child. Also she brought along Tant Jenkins, her half brother, skinny as a fish pole with black curly hair. That day Mister Watson come home so excited, Tant was off hunting in the Glades. He snuck upriver every time Mister Watson went away, left the chores to me.
Henriettaâhe called her Nettaâwas setting there on the front stoop, her little Min hitched to her bosom, and Iâm down at the dock helping with the lines. Mister Watson ainât hardly tossed the bow line before he hollers, âNetta honey, you best start thinking about packing up, I have my people coming!â And he laughed out loud about the happy turn his life had taken.
Mister Watson was so overjoyed that he clean forgot about our feelings. I didnât know where to look, thatâs how shamed I was for me and my mother both. After two years, Chatham Bend was home, the first real family home I ever knew. I seen Mister Watson kind of as my dad and he let me think so, thatâs how kind he treated me.
My mother was good-hearted, never mind her loose bosom and blowsy ways. When she first come to Chatham Bend, I already been on my own for a few years, so she seemed more like an older sister. With her and Min and Tant and Mister Watson, we made a regular family at the table, we got to feeling we belonged someplace. And here he was fixing to toss her out like some olâ shiftless nigger woman and his own baby daughter along with her. Meân Tantâd have to start all over with no place to go.
I felt all thick and funny. When he swung that crate of stores up off the boat deck and across to me, I banged it down onto the dock so hard that a slat busted. That
bang
was somewhat louder than I wanted and the noise surprised him cause his hand shot for his pocket. Then he straightened slow, picked up another crate, carried it off the boat hisself, and set it carefully on the dock longside the other.
âSwallowed a frog, boy? Spit it out.â
I set my hat forward on my head and spit too close to them Western boots he wore when he went up to town. Scared myself so bad I couldnât talk knowing my voice would come out pinched or all gummed up; I give him a dirty look and stacked the crates, to let him know Erskine R. Thompson was here to do his work and didnât have no time for palaver.
He was waiting. Stone eyes, no expression. Put me in mind of a big olâ bear I seen with Tant one early evening back of Deer Island, raring up out of the salt prairie to stare. Itâs like Tant says, a bearâs face is stiff as wood. He never looks mean or riled, not till his ears go back, he just looks
bear
down to the
Them wilder Injuns up the southwest rivers was close to finished, too, though they didnât know it. Injuns, now, they never had good guns nor traps, and bein lazy and not greedy, they only took enough to trade for what they needed. They never killed âem out, not the way we done.
Ted Smallwood never cared to say if all that slaughter was in Godâs service or not, but he sure had some nice cash set aside, cause pretty soon he bought the whole Santini claim on Chokoloskee. Santinis being one of our pioneer families, some folks was surprised to see âem pull up stakes. Dolphusâs brotherâs wifeâs sister was Netta Daniels who had a child by Watson, and maybe that time at Key West, Dolphus said something ugly about Watsonâs morals that he wished he hadnât. Anyway he sold his place, sailed around to the east coast at the Miami River, about as far from E. J. Watson as he could get.
ERSKINE THOMPSON
Mister Watson had a wife and children but never said too much about âem in front of my mother, Henrietta Daniels, who come to keep house for us at the Bend the year before. I thought they must be crazy to get into the same bed the way they done first night she got there but she said she loved him and she went ahead and had his child. Also she brought along Tant Jenkins, her half brother, skinny as a fish pole with black curly hair. That day Mister Watson come home so excited, Tant was off hunting in the Glades. He snuck upriver every time Mister Watson went away, left the chores to me.
Henriettaâhe called her Nettaâwas setting there on the front stoop, her little Min hitched to her bosom, and Iâm down at the dock helping with the lines. Mister Watson ainât hardly tossed the bow line before he hollers, âNetta honey, you best start thinking about packing up, I have my people coming!â And he laughed out loud about the happy turn his life had taken.
Mister Watson was so overjoyed that he clean forgot about our feelings. I didnât know where to look, thatâs how shamed I was for me and my mother both. After two years, Chatham Bend was home, the first real family home I ever knew. I seen Mister Watson kind of as my dad and he let me think so, thatâs how kind he treated me.
My mother was good-hearted, never mind her loose bosom and blowsy ways. When she first come to Chatham Bend, I already been on my own for a few years, so she seemed more like an older sister. With her and Min and Tant and Mister Watson, we made a regular family at the table, we got to feeling we belonged someplace. And here he was fixing to toss her out like some olâ shiftless nigger woman and his own baby daughter along with her. Meân Tantâd have to start all over with no place to go.
I felt all thick and funny. When he swung that crate of stores up off the boat deck and across to me, I banged it down onto the dock so hard that a slat busted. That
bang
was somewhat louder than I wanted and the noise surprised him cause his hand shot for his pocket. Then he straightened slow, picked up another crate, carried it off the boat hisself, and set it carefully on the dock longside the other.
âSwallowed a frog, boy? Spit it out.â
I set my hat forward on my head and spit too close to them Western boots he wore when he went up to town. Scared myself so bad I couldnât talk knowing my voice would come out pinched or all gummed up; I give him a dirty look and stacked the crates, to let him know Erskine R. Thompson was here to do his work and didnât have no time for palaver.
He was waiting. Stone eyes, no expression. Put me in mind of a big olâ bear I seen with Tant one early evening back of Deer Island, raring up out of the salt prairie to stare. Itâs like Tant says, a bearâs face is stiff as wood. He never looks mean or riled, not till his ears go back, he just looks
bear
down to the
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