The Turnbo Manuscripts
by Silas Claiborne Turnbo
1844-1925
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KILLING FOUR DEER AND NINE TURKEYS WITH FIVE SHOTS AND
FIVE BULLETS
By S. C. Turnbo
Several years ago the writer had a pleasant interview with J. W. (Wes)
Henderson at his home near Dugginsville, Mo. He is a son of "Chris"
Henderson, the famed hunter who once lived on Shoal Creek. "Wes"
Henderson’s father was born in Tennessee. His grandfather was Edward
Henderson. Chris Henderson, the father of Wes Henderson, lived some time
in Whitney County, Kentucky, when he was a boy. He died at the age of 82
years. Wes Henderson died November 26, 1905, and his body was given burial
in the graveyard near Dugginsville. He was born on Black River in the state
of Arkansas in 1843. In the conversation with him at the time I speak of
he said that he had hunted in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas the
greater part of his life or as long as any game existed of importance and
says he, "I will tell you of the incidents only that come under my
personal observations. The first story of hunting I will give you is about
a fight I had with a wounded buck once on Bennettes Bayou in Fulton County,
Ark. One morning soon after sunrise I put on a new white shirt made of domestic
and went into the woods to kill a deer, and the first one I seen was a small
spike buck standing in the head of a hollow with its body partly hidden
behind a tree. It was some distance to the animal but I took chances and
shot at its neck and the deer fell. I supposed I had killed it but as I
walked up to it I changed my mind as to its being dead for the distance
was so great from where I had shot at it that I reached the conclusion that
I had stunned it only. So taking my butcher knife from the scabbard I stabbed
it with the knife. Just as the sharp point of the blade penetrated the flesh
the little deer jumped up, but it was not in a fighting humor and started
and ran 30 paces and stopped and lay down. Instead of reloading my rifle
and shooting it the second time as I should have done I dropped the gun
and ran to where the deer lay and struck it again with the knife. The buck
was very sick from the effects of its wounds or it would not have let me
got to it without a fight or run. The knife as it pierced the deer’s
flesh aroused the animal again from its stupor and it leaped up and struck
my arm with its head and knocked the knife from my hand. The little buck
was angry now and made fight. Its hair was bushed up. Its eyes looked fiery
and I knew now that it had rather fight than to run and so we come to close
quarters. The fight was not on long before the deer hurled me down on my
back. The fall hurt me severely and I was not able for the time to get on
my feet again or turn over even and the enraged beast stood over me and
pawed my breast until I imagined I could see hundreds of stars in the elements.
Fortunately for me the deer become very sick and ceased to strike me with
its forefeet and went off a few yards and lay down. I was bad wounded and
my new shirt was torn into tatters. I lay there a few minutes feeling more
dead than alive. Then I felt better and after I had rested longer I managed
to get on my feet again and felt much wiser than I did when I was stabbing
the deer, and in place of picking up the knife and using it as I did before
I picked up the gun and reloaded it and shot the buck and killed it. The
fight with that buck learned me an important lesson how to avoid another
combat with a wounded deer. At another time while I lived on Bennettes Bayou,"
continued Mr. Henderson, "while I was out a hunting one day I seen
two bucks hung together by the horns. One of them was large and the other
one was small. The largest one was dead and the little one was so nigh dead
that it was not able to pull its dead antagonist over the ground. I finished
its life by picking up a stone and hitting it on the head. with it. Then
I cut both their heads off and hung them up on a limb of a tree and went
on with my day’s hunt. In about three months after this I went back
there and brought the skulls and horns home. I will now tell you about killing
two deer at one shot," said Mr. Henderson. "One day while I was
hunting in that deep rough hollow called Sugar Camp that mouths into White
River opposite the old Joe Magness Bottom in Marion County, Ark. This hollow
is in Franklin Township. Not finding any game worth shooting at up in the
hollow I went down the hollow to the mouth of it and seen two deer on the
shore on the opposite side of the river from me. They were standing side
and side with broadsides toward me. The river was past fording and it was
a long distance across to where the deer were standing, but I decided that
I could reach them with a bullet and aimed my gun at them and fired. One
of the deer fell at the edge of the water. The other one started to run,
but it tumbled over too, when it had got only a few feet from its mate.
They both lay still and I knew I had killed them both at one shot. I never
knew exactly how far the deer were from me when I shot them but it was not
less than 210 yards. The only way I had to get to my dead game was to borrow
a canoe, which I did and went across the river and saved the pelts and meat.
One of them was a buck and the other a doe." Mr. Henderson went on
to say that he killed two more deer at one shot on Caney Creek that empties
into Beaver Creek below Bradleyville in Taney County, Mo. "I was on
the side of a hill and noticed a deer lying down some 40 yards below me.
I shot at its head and after my
bullet had crashed through its brain it sped on and struck another deer
and lodged in the heart. This deer was also lying down a few yards below
the one I shot at, but I did not see it until after the bullet struck it
which caused the animal to leap up high and hit the ground on its feet.
Then
it sprang about ten feet and fell dead. The one I shot through the head
never got up until I hung it up on the limb of a tree. "I will now
tell you about the killing of a lot of wild turkeys one day on this same
Caney Creek where I killed the two deer. I was then using my father’s
old target gun and it always brought down game if it was directed right.
Before starting out that day I had only three bullets and no more lead to
mold any more. This was my only chance for the present and I would have
to make the three balls go as far toward killing game as I could make them
go. I had went more than a mile from the house when I noticed a big flock
of turkeys which were bunched close together. I shot into the middle of
the flock and killed three of them. The others rose and flew away. When
I had reloaded my gun I picked up the three dead turkeys and started back
toward home with them. I had not gone far before I saw another bunch of
turkeys huddled close together and holding up their heads as high as they
could stretch their necks. I sent a bullet in among them and killed three
of them. The remaining ones went off like the first ones did. I now had
six dead turkeys on hand and all full grown and they were very heavy to
carry. Before starting on I reloaded my gun with the remaining bullet. Just
before reaching my cabin I discovered another flock of turkeys which were
not huddled so close together as the others were, but I aimed my gun at
a few that were standing the closest together and fired and the result was
that two of them were killed and another one was wounded so severely that
I caught it after following it a half a mile. This was nine turkeys I had
killed with three shots and three bullets. The biggest deer I ever killed
in my life was done on this same creek and it weighed 151 pounds after it
was dressed. This was what I called a large deer and those of that size
were not numerous in Taney County," said the old veteran hunter.
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