THE LION KILLER
The lion of Lewisburg was dead. By order of former Governor Duncan Clinch Heyward, the Devil’s Fiddle with which Monday White, yellow-skinned plantation practical joker, had terrorized the negroes of the neighborhood for three weeks, had been hidden away, and the groaning roar of the powder keg lion was no longer heard in the land. Monday, the clerk at the store and the master of the plantation, guarded the secret carefully and the negroes, who no longer heard the terrible voice echoing through the woods at night, or along the reeds by the river, believed that the lion, exorcised by the spirit of prayer, had departed from among them and gone to some less regenerate community. Those who had told marvelous tales of the fierce creature whose flaming eyes had burned into their souls, whose bloody jaws had frozen them with fright, told and retold with elaboration and close attention to detail,—and finally themselves believed, the first told stories of their encounters with the monster. Some of those who had had no personal experience with the lion of Lewisburg believed only part of the oft told tales. Others were frankly skeptical, for, while practically all of them believed in the lion, few were willing to yield to the story-tellers the prestige of having come unscathed through such perilous adventures. These stories are always liberally discounted among the negroes, however. At a “baptizing” on the Combahee, the big black pastor had doused in the canal one after another of the “seeking” sisters. They emerged from the turbid waters gurgling and choking, but all weretoo full of water, or the spirit, for utterance. At last one lusty wench with better breath control than the others came up smiling, and with wind enough for speech. “Oh Jedus!” she yelled, determined to create a sensation, “uh see Gawd onduhneet’ de water! Uh fin’ me Gawd.’E look ’puntop me!”
“You lie!” said the envious sister who had just preceded her, “’tis cootuh!Enty I shum?”
Gradually the negroes recovered their confidence, and resumed their nocturnal rambles, visiting from one plantation to another, but they usually went in small companies and seldom adventured alone, save when some bibulous man, glimpsing the “skollup’ petticoat” of the peripatetic bootlegger from White Hall as she swished her starched symbol through the Lewisburg quarters on Saturday nights, followed with parched tongue and arid throat to some convenient spot where coin could be exchanged for contraband.
In some way it was generally understood that, supplementing the plantation prayers, “Mass Clinch,” through personal magnetism or the exercise of some former-gubernatorial authority, had had a great deal to do with speeding the going leonine guest. This rumor traveled by grapevine thirty-odd miles from Combahee to Adams Run, the abiding place of Joe Fields, the former governor’s former slave, whose confidence in “Maussuh’s” powers of accomplishment, equalled the Mohammedan belief in the esteemed Prophet’s ability to stock the Hereafter with Houris. It was true that “Maussuh” had commanded the roaring to cease—and it did, but Joe’s imagination insisted upon supplying all the “corroborative detail.”
Joe foregathered with some of his friends at the railwaystation, for things were not going pleasantly at home. His wife Philippa was one of those hard-working, aggravating creatures who, by her very industry and self-abnegation, forced upon the lordly loafer by whom she was husbanded a sense of his own inferiority. Philippa worked out among the white people, cooking and washing and scrubbing, while Joe rode about on a mortgaged horse or ox and boasted as a Sir Oracle at the Cross Roads or the station. Philippa was always willing to feed Joe, but she was none the less ready to season his food with the sauce of her tongue, and whenever she came home, her sense of duty urged her to remind Joe of his shortcomings. Once a fighter, hard work and scanty food had worn her body and somewhat broken her spirit, and she no longer thrashed her grown daughter Christopher Columbus as she once did, “jes’ ’cause ’e look lukkuh ’e pa,” but Joe, having to take the sauce with the meat, seldom wasted time in replying that he could utilize in eating, and thus the more speedily put himself out of earshot. Once away among his cronies, however, he expressed himself boldly and truculently. “Da’ ’ooman keep on fuh onrabble ’e mout’ ’tell uh w’ary fuh yeddy’um. ’E stan’ sukkuh briah patch w’en blackberry ripe. ’E gi’ you bittle fuh eat, but ’e ’cratch you w’ile you duh eat’um! Him iz uh fait’ful ’ooman fuh true, en’ ’e lub fuh wu’k, but w’en him dey home, uh yent fuh hab no peace. Seem lukkuh nutt’n’ wuh uh do nebbuh suit’um. Ef uh seddown een me rockin’ cheer duh fiah fuh tek me res’ w’ile uh duh nyam me bittle, ’e fau’t me fuh dat. Same fashi’n ef uh git ’puntop me oxin fuh ride to de Cross Road, oonuh kin yeddy’um talk ’bout uh lazy man ent wut!”
“’E ebbuh fau’t you w’en you got axe, eeduhso hoe een yo’ han’?”
“Who, me?Mefuh hab hoe een me han’? No, suh! Maussuh’ nigguh ent fuh hol’ hoe! Wuffuh me haffuh hol’ hoe w’en uh hab po’buckruh nigguh fuh wife?Himfuh hol’ hoe! Philpuh’ maussuh duh po’ buckruh f’um town. Him binnuh bake bread ebbuh sence slabery time. Wuh him ebbuh do?Himebbuh kill lion?”
“Kill lion!Wuh you duh talk ’bout nigguh? Whoebbuh you ebbuh yeddy kin kill lion?”
“My maussuh fuh kill’um!”
“Go’way, Joe! You duh dream. Een de fus’ place, no lion ent fuh dey een dis country, een de two place, you ent got no maussuh, en’ een de t’ree place, ef you iz bin hab maussuh, him ent able fuh kill no lion.”
“Me yent hab no maussuh! Enty you know suh uh nyuse to blonx to Mass Clinch Heywu’d to Lewisbu’g plantesshun ’puntop Cumbee? Oonuh eegnunt nigguh’, oonuh yent know suh him hab t’ree t’ous’n’ acre’ rice en’ mo’nuh t’ree t’ous’n’ nigguh’ en’ mule en’ t’ing’? Oonuh nebbuh yeddy ’bout da’ lion wuh git’way f’um de sukkus to Orangebu’g todduh day en’ gone down Sawlketchuh swamp ’tell ’e git Cumbee, en’ ’e run all Maussuh’ nigguh’ out ’e fiel’ en’ ’e mek Maussuh’ ob’shay, Mistuh Jokok, fuh climb tree?”
“Nobody nebbuh yeddy ’bout’um, Joe, en’younebbuh yeddy ’bout’um. Hukkuh you fuh yeddy ’bout’um? You bin Cumbee?”
“Uh yent bin no Cumbee, but uh got uh titile lib on Maussuh’ place Cumbee, dat how uh yeddy ’bout’um.”
“Wuh yo’ tittie tell you, Joe?”
“W’en de lion git’way out de sukkus ’e gone spangf’um Orangebu’g to Sawlketchuh swamp en’ ’e nebbuh stop ’tell ’e git Lewisbu’g!”
“Wuffuh him haffuh stop Lewisbu’g, Joe?”
“Enty you know suh Maussuh’ nigguh’ fat? Maussuh’ nigguh’ fat fuh sowl! Lion hab sense ’nuf fuh know fat nigguh w’en ’e shum, en’ him kin smellfatnigguh mo’ fudduh den him kin smellpo’nigguh, en’ Maussuh mek shishuh hebby crap uh rice en’ ’tettuh en’ t’ing dat him nigguh’ fat mo’nuh all dem todduh nigguh’ ’puntop Cumbee ribbuh!
“Soon ez de lion git Lewisbu’g, ’e stop. ’E know suh him bittle dey dey, en’ ’e mout’ biggin fuh run water. Bumbye duh night-time, ’e woice roll een Maussuh’ pinelan’ en’ all dem nigguh’ tarrify’ sukkuh chickin tarrify’ w’en fu’lhawk’ wing t’row shadduh obuhr’um! Dem nigguh’ ’f’aid ’tell dem fool! Dem lock demself een dem house duh night, en’, alldo’ ’e duh summuhtime, dem mek fiah fuh bu’n so de lion cyan’ come down de chimbly. W’en de lion cyan’ git no nigguh’ fuh eat ’cause dem all lock’up, ’e gone duh ’ood en’ meet uh cow en’ ’e killhimfuh ’e bittle. W’en ’e done nyam de t’ree cow—”
“T’ree cow!Joe, hukkuh him kin eat t’ree cow’ w’en ’e only kill one?”
“Him nyam t’ree cow’, enty? Him kin nyam’um uh dunkyuh ef ’e yent dead. You ebbuh see lion? Wuh Pon Pon nigguh know ’bout lion? Seem lukkuh w’en ’e done nyam dem t’ree cow’, ’e jis’ mek’um fuh hongry good, en’ ’e gone back nigguhhouse yaa’d fuh see ef him kin git uh chance fuh nyam nigguh’. ’E walk up en’ down, ’e t’rash’ ’e tail, ’e gnash’ ’e teet’ en’ ’e holluh sukkuh jackass en’ alligettuh en’ bull all t’ree one time! You kin yeddy dem nigguh’ een dem house duh pray.Dem eb’ry Gawd’ one prommus dem Jedus fuh folluh Him wu’d, ef ’e only spayre dem life. One tell’um suh ef Him tek de lion’ jaw off’um, him nebbuh t’ief Maussuh’ rice no mo’, en’ eb’ry one tell de Lawd ’bout some uh dem light sin wuh dem willin’ fuh t’row’way ef dem life sabe.”
“Light sin! Mekso dem ent prommus fuh t’row’way dem hebby sin?”
“No, man, dem ent fuh t’row’way dem hebby sin, uh dunkyuh ef lion crack dem bone’. Een slabery time nigguh baig ’e maussuh’ paa’d’n fuh t’ief ’e fowl w’en ’e git ketch, but w’en ’e killcow, ’e nebbuh crack ’e teet’, en’ eb’n so ef ’e maussuh ketch’um duh skin de cow, him fuh tell ’e maussuh ’e fin’um dead een de ’ood, en’ ’e duh skin’um fuh tek de hide to ’e maussuh fuh sabe’um f’um buzzut! No, man; oonuh fuh hol’ oonuh hebby sin sukkuh sheep buhr hol’ mule’ tail, ’tell Gabrull blow ’e hawn en’ de Lawd tek’um off!”
“Bumbye w’en dayclean en’ de lion nebbuh git no nigguh, ’e gone en’ kill fo’ mo’ cow’, en’ w’en ’e done nyam’um ’e gone duh ’ood en’ leddown fuh tek ’e res’, en’ nobody nebbuh yeddy’um ’gen ’tell Sat’d’y night come. All t’ru de week de nigguh’ swonguh en’ sattify een dem min’ ’cause dem t’ink suh dem pray’ mek de lion fuh gone’way en’ le’m’lone, but ’e yent duh no pray’ mek’um fuh gone, duh dem fo’ cow’ wuh ’e nyam, mek’ ’e belly full ’tell ’e yent hab no room fuh nigguh!”
“W’en Sat’d’y night come, de lion holluh ’gen en’ all de nigguh’ run out de sto’ en’ gone een dem house fuh hide. Monday come, en’ de nigguh’ ’f’aid fuh gone een Maussuh’ fiel’ fuh wu’k. Mistuh Jokok dunno wuh fuh do. Him sen’ uh ansuh to Cuhlumbia fuh tell Maussuh ’cep’n’ him come Lewisbu’g, all him nigguh’ fuh eat.Maussuh ride de train. ’E come. ’E git off W’ite Hall deepo, ’e git ’pun ’e hawss, ’e tu’n to ’e ob’shay, ’Jokok,’ ’e say, ‘Weh da’ annimel fuh hide? Lemme shum!’”
“Mistuh Jokok tell’um de las’ time dem yeddy ’e woice, ’e bin een de t’icket en’ reed en’ t’ing by de ribbuh bank. Maussuh nebbuh wait fuh yeddy no’ mo’. ’E snatch ’e rifle out’uh Mistuh Jokok’ han’, ’e jam ’e two spuhr een e’ hawss’ belly, ’e hawss jump’ nine foot off de groun’ een de ellyment, en’ ’e gone! Maussuh run ’e hawss ’tell ’e git ’cross de causeway ’pun de ribbuh bank, den ’e biggin fuh ride slow en’ t’row ’e yeye befor’um fuh see weh da’ t’ing fuh hide. W’en ’e git close de briah en’ t’ing, ’e hawss cock’ ’e yez befor’um, ’e snawt’ en’ ’e ’tan’up ’trait ’pun ’e hine foot. W’en ’e do dat, Maussuh know suh de lion dey een dem bush! De hawss come down ’pun ’e fo’ foot. ’E duh shake sukkuh rice t’rasher shake. Maussuh yeddy sump’nurruh duh groan een de t’icket. Bumbye de lion come out. W’en ’e op’n’ ’e mout’ ’e teet’ long sukkuh cawncob! Maussuh t’row ’e rifle to ’e yeye. ’E only hab one ball een’um en’ ’e know suh ef him ent kill da’ t’ingdead, da’ lion fuh nyam him en’ ’e hawss alltwo. Maussuh tek aim at ’e t’roat. ’E cut loose, ‘bam!’ W’en de gun crack, ’e look! De lion’ head roll down de bank ’tell ’e fall een de ditch! Maussuh cantuh up to Lewisbu’g. ’E tell Mistuh Jokok fuh sen’ uh waagin en’ fo’ mule’ fuh fetch’um to de yaa’d. Dem medjuhr’um en’ ’e stan’ t’irteen foot long! W’en de nigguh’ yeddy suh ’e dead, dem stop wu’k en’ dem fuh mek fiah en’ shout roun’ da’ lion de Gawd’ night! Bumbye buckruh’ come fuh look ’puntop’um en’ w’en dem yeddy suh ’e seb’nteen foot long, dem ’stonish!”
“Yaas, uh ’spec’ nigguh’ en’ buckruh’ alltwo fuh’stonish ef dem kin yeddy you fuh tell’um, Joe. Da’ lion duh git mo’ longuh! W’ile ago you bin fuh mek’um t’irteen foot long.”
“Fus’ time dem medjuhr’um ’e yent bin hab no head. Enty ’e fuh medjuh mo’ attuh dem tie ’e head back ’pun ’e neck weh Maussuh’ ball cut’um off? Oonuh mus’be fool!”
“Joe,” said another doubting crony, “hukkuh da’ leely ball kin fuh cut off da’ lion’ head? ’E tek soad, eeduhso axe, fuh do da’ t’ing?”
“Who’ Maussuh kill da lion! Duh yo’ Maussuh, enty? Enty uh tell oonuh eegnunt nigguh’ suh de hawss skayre ’tell ’e shake, en’, same time Maussuh pull’ ’e trigguh, de hawss trimble’ ’tell ’e mek da’ ball fuh wabble ‘cross de lion’ neck ’tell’e cut ’e t’roat f’um yez to yez!”