Sam’s Bear Story

 

Sam’s Bear Story

(I've decided to repost an earlier story which I believe several people enjoyed.)

Sometimes a writer just gets stuck. He can’t find the fire, the energy, the “light” that guided him before. So he sits. And waits, fiddles around here and there, does nothing notable or worthwhile while he constantly feels a sense of frustration and wasting of time. The pressure seems to build inside him and he mentally starts grasping at floating bits of random thoughts trying to build a story or at least an idea of some sort.  Sort of like the bored and unsuccessful fisherman who begins to shake his line to watch the cork move, hoping that he’ll entice a passing fish to take a try at whatever lifeless bait is hanging there on the end of his lazily dangling line.

That was Sam’s situation this slightly too warm evening as he sat by the small campfire out on the edge of Double Branches Road along the north side of the Okefenokee Swamp. He slowly tapped his small writing pad on his crossed leg and nibbled blankly on his pencil. Two or three bats were staying busy swooping down and then up into the night sky above the fire as they stayed steadily busy zeroing in on passing mosquitoes and other small and too slow flying insects. Out in the nearby cypress pond, the sound of some small critter rummaging around in the edge of the water came and went. “Probably a ‘coon,” he thought.

Gradually Sam’s eyes began to grow heavy as his unsuccessful attempt to come up with a story idea for his next newspaper column went steadily downhill. He still had a couple more days before he had to get his story turned in for the local weekly newspaper. Still, he hated to be running so late in coming up with an idea. “Usually I have a whole list of ideas floatin’ round in my head… but not now,” he sighed to himself.   

Sam’s distracted and frustrated thinking, as well as the natural calming and sleep inducing effect of a good meal eaten out under the stars all probably led to Sam not realizing that the previous coming and going of the  little critter over around the cypress pond had stopped. In fact, all the little night noises of one kind and another had ceased. But Sam was too engrossed in his mentally draining attempt to think his way into a story idea to notice.

 Sam sat leaning back against a conveniently located stump. He was staring carelessly towards the cypress pond, itself partially hidden over behind about fifty yards of broom straw grasses and occasionally poking up little trees of one kind or another. From his seat, Sam could see the upper parts of the darkened trees across the tops of the grasses. The grasses themselves, beginning just a few short yards away, formed a kind of wavy darkened brown wall with yellowish tips moving softly in the evening breeze. Sam’s eyes slowly seemed to focus on a darker spot in the brownish grasses. A large darkened spot… with a longish nose protruding from the center of it with a couple of white tipped teeth showing just below it…

Suddenly, Sam’s previous boredom was gone! His stomach tightened up unbelievably tight! His mouth went completely and immediately dry with his tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth. His breath slowly and forcefully blew through the rounded hole of his mouth as he tried to slowly scoot up the side of the stump. A bear!!   His hand now tightly gripped his pencil. He threateningly held it out in front of him as if it was an Indian war club. His notepad in the other hand now a war shield. His knees, the drumming of the village war drum. A bear! His mind raced, his eyes burned from the campfire’s smoke which now seemed to have become the bear’s ally.

And then, he was gone! Sam, now standing on top of the stump… his war chariot, war club at the ready, waited for what he was sure would be a flanking attack by the swamp creature. His burning eyes swung here and there, searching frantically for the threat. The sweat, unnoticed before, made its presence known as it ran down both sides of his face and head.  He quickly jabbed a left finger up to his ear to wipe out the sweat…the better to hear his secretive stalker! Then his right hand went up to do the same… and he howled a cry of pain as he feel sideways off his stump while turning his head to stare with a mixture of fear and anger at the offending pencil which had just launched its secret attack against the side of his head! It bore its bloodied tip as proof of its treachery.

He landed on the ground with a solid whump! His breath left him, his lungs now turned traitor as well. Wildly he tried to scrabble up, sucking for breath, swinging his head this way and that for the threat he feared was closing on him quickly! Nothing. No bear. Nothing. He turned a complete circle, now recovering his breath and beginning to calm down, he realized that… at least for now… he was still alive and not being attacked. Then he heard it….off in the distance… the sound of loud splashing of water as the bear now ran for its life out across the shallow cypress pond, seeking to escape the man it had accidently stumbled upon as it followed the scent of the roasted corn from Sam’s supper.

And Sam? After some time to recover his emotions and tend to his “battle” wound… he settled down to write a fictitious story…based on proven fact, he later said while enjoying a cup of coffee around the stove at the Tebeauville General store. The story? It was about a grizzled battle scarred old swamper and Indian fighter who courageously fought off an attack by, not one but two, bears as they sought to enter his cabin out along the edge of the great Okefenokee Swamp.

                                                                                     The End

Tebeauville no longer exists today. It has been replaced by the modern town of Waycross, Georgia. The swamp is still there and still has black bears around its edges and plenty of raccoons as well. I work part time as a boat guide in the beautiful Okefenokee Swamp. Ya'll feel free to come by the Okefenokee Swamp Park and take a ride with me...no telling what we will see.  By the way, Double Branches Road is there as well… if you know how to find it. cb

Black Bear Fact Sheet | Georgia DNR - Wildlife Resources Division

Hunger's End

(Photo by Clint Bowman) Small lake on north side of Okefenokee Swamp

Hunger’s End

The young Timucua warrior stood quietly looking out across the darkening waters of the little open lake situated near the edges of the great Okefenokee Swamp. Hunger was punishing his insides. It had been three days since he and his small family living here on Cowhouse Island had been able to find food. This early in the spring, the last year’s corn and beans had been eaten. Several wild fires and a long drought had pushed much of the local wildlife far away from their little island home. Yesterday’s rains had been a welcome relief and now the little body of water in front of him was almost filled again to its usual level.

Now, he stood watching hopefully. Soon, he saw a slither of movement in the nearby bordering grasses. A quick strike! Now the hidden banded water snake had a small perch and was trying to crawl into a safe spot in the grass to work at swallowing his prey. That was not the young man’s target, though he would willingly eat both if he had to do so. His eye was on the ripples slowly spreading across the lake’s surface as a juvenile alligator sensed the snake and fish struggle and began to zero in on the disturbance. This would bring enough meat for the whole family to eat!

Mimicking the hunting style of the great egrets he often watched, he slowly shifted his weight, careful not to alert the closing hunter, now the hunted.  Slowly but steadily the hungry alligator closed on his intended target. The young man tensed, gripping his hunting lance tightly. He knew from long experience where to strike. He would have to move swiftly. There would probably be only one clean opportunity. Suddenly, the alligator seemed to launch himself across the surface of the dark waters! As his jaws snapped shut on the tail of the unsuspecting snake, the warrior stabbed out and down into the top of the alligator’s head with enough force to drive the spear completely through the skull. However, his satisfaction was only momentary.

As he leapt forward to grip his quarry and lift it out of the boggy edge of the lake, another hunter made his presence known! During his ambush of the alligator, the young warrior had stood close beside a large gallberry bush which provided a great cover for his attack. It had also concealed the large hungry male bobcat which had also spotted the young alligator and had worked cautiously to get into a position to launch an attack… an attack which occurred almost simultaneously as that of the hungry young warrior’s. The young man was only a couple of steps ahead of the large cat, who at the last second, tried to pull back from this sudden possible threat. His scream, hisses, and spit seemed to be an explosion of sound and fury causing the young warrior to spin quickly around prepared to fight for his life! The two stood, barely a long spear length apart, frozen, each waiting for the other to show some sign of backing down….. or attacking.

The water snake continued to writhe in agony, attempting to back off his catch so he could face the threat of the alligator. Slowly, the big male cat glanced away from the young man to the struggling snake. As if some type of communication had occurred between man and beast, the big cat took three quick steps, grabbed up the snake with the perch still dangling for his mouth and was swiftly gone. The young man’s long held breath exploded from his burning lungs! Then, his legs shaking, he pulled the alligator to him. Grabbing the now dead creature by the head, he managed to pull his spear free and turned for home.

Soon, as he walked quickly along the path towards the family’s two palmetto covered dome shaped huts, the young man’s heart celebrated with joy that he was the one who was able to bring food home to the hungry family. A joyous chant begin to throb through his mind as he thought happily of the food animals which would soon be roaming the region near the little water filled lake. Soon hunger would be a thing of the past… once again.

Clint Bowman

May 2020

Minnie’s Lake

Minnie's Lake in the Okefenokee Swamp on a bright sunny afternoon.

A Bonnet Lily in bloom in Minnie's Lake on a windy spring day.

(Written to commemorate a camping trip with my wife to Minnie's Lake)

Slowly, with wonder,

The two adventurers glided,

Through the cool dark waters,

Of the Okefenokee.

Nearby, with a chirp,

A frog leapt to safety.

A bulbous snout,

Slowly sank from sight.

Twisting through cypress guardians,

The two traveled on.

As feathered heralds,

 Announced their passing.

Yellowed eyes watched from camouflaged positions,

Alligator smiles and twisting turtle heads tracked,

The loaded canoe as paddles slowly dipped,

And the two adventurers bravely glided on.

Finally, as the watery trail broadened slightly,

A wooden haven showed its weathered roof,

Above the hurrah bushes and burned over stumps,

And two adventurers glided in to find their rest.

Clint Bowman

Feb. 2017

It's Been Awhile....

I apologize for not having posted anything of interest here in months. I have now retired from teaching and am working part-time at various things. I hope to soon get back to writing. Recently, I camped for a night with my wife in the beautiful Okefenokee Swamp which often serves as the setting in many of my short stories. Here are two pictures from that trip. Hope you enjoy them.
See ya' soon,
Clint

The Faithful Pastor

Band-aids and gray hair,

Worn medals of triumph over life’s worries,

“The just shall live by faith,”

He faithfully proclaimed.

In carpenter’s jeans and plaid shirt ,

Plainly sharing words of faith and hope,

“We shall also live with Him”,

He faithfully proclaimed.

He paused patiently giving time to some,

Who shared from their life’s stories.

“All things work together for good to those who love God…”

He faithfully proclaimed.

Encouraging with love he read,

“…that you present your bodies a living sacrifice…

Acceptable to God…”.

Then gently closed his well- worn Bible.

The faithful bowed in final prayers,

Then rose comforted and encouraged.

May God bless us everyone,

And especially our faithful pastor.

Clint Bowman

August 23, 2018

Dedicated to Pastor Derwin Griffin of Second Baptist Church, Waycross, Georgia.

The Okefenokee Trail

(This is from my book "Okefenokee Tales". It is available on Amazon.com )

The Okefenokee Trail may sound like a trail which an adventurous traveler might follow through remote and dangerous places. Or a type of trail which might lead to some long forgotten ghostly place once settled by an ancient people. Or maybe even a trail which might lead through some ancient land to a place of romance and adventure. BUT…. It is not any of these, at least not exactly.

The Okefenokee Trail was created by an act of the Georgia State Legislature, not an ancient tribal group or band of explorers. The act is called House Resolution 1661 and dedicates the Okefenokee Trail and the renaming of a bridge near the town of Folkston, Georgia, in honor of a man by the name of Herschel Stokes. It is a system of paved roads which largely encircle the great Okefenokee Swamp of South Georgia.

This system of roads includes state route 177. This road enters the north side of the Okefenokee swamp and exits the south side… but the two ends do not connect! There is NO road going through the heart of the swamp! So….what lies between the two ends of the interrupted state route 177?

That’s a topic for a different post! (Stay tuned) J 

Sunset over the beautiful Okefenokee Swamp

Men of Faith

    As the whump, whump , whump of the helicopter’s slicing blades reverberated through my soul I sat with sweat running down may face and dripping steadily onto the its rapidly vibrating floor. This time it was real! This time it wasn’t a drill… a practice… a dry run! And I knew, just knew, that I might not live through it. And I was afraid, deeply afraid and trying hard not to show it to the searching eyes of my companions. We  looked into each other’s faces, then quickly away. Each man wondering if those seated around him might be feeling the same fear he felt. Each wondering if he might be the only one feeling it. Quickly the lights of the city passed beneath the Huey’s rapidly turning blades.
The call from the forward observation team had come into HQ at about 300 hours. Most of us had been hard asleep for 2-3 hours, by 330 hours the decision had been made and we had been alerted. By 500 hours we were alongside our assigned “bird”. By 530 hours we had been briefed and were on board. At 545 hours we lifted off.  Slipping across treetops, our pilots followed the terrain as closely as possible in the early dawn. At an altitude of what must have been about 500 feet or close to it we headed across the city. In the east the oranges, yellows, blues, and a few streaks red showed that the rising sun would soon be with us. Someone began passing around half sticks of gum. I needed it, my mouth was sticky dry.

The target was a terrorist cell leader known to have family connections in this area. In this South American country, we lived as construction workers with “company” owned Huey helicopters to help us get about.  And most of the time, that is what we looked like, though not now. Not today. We had been assigned the task of finding this one man. The whole set up was for this one purpose. We all knew that if we nabbed him today… or killed him, we would be headed stateside within an hour or so. He represented a “clear and present danger” to our country and our host country. He had been assigned a task of coordinating the attempts to hit the upcoming World Cup soccer games. We had been assigned the task of stopping him. Just that simple.

Sergeant Grimes suddenly looked up at the crew chief. The sign of two thumbs up was given! The sergeant turned and tapped the knee of the man next to him. He gave the sign that our LZ was near by placing his right forefinger up against his nose. Each man then tapped the knee of the one next to him and looked to see that he was aware and ready to go. Each man in return signaled with a thumb up sign, then the flat palm down sign to show he was ready and steady.  The crew chief appeared to be listening to something as he held his hand up against his earphones. Then looking up, he held up five fingers… we were five minutes out!

Our LZ entry was suddenly upon us! The Huey seemed to suddenly drop and then its nose came up and looking out we watched as the ground rushed up to meet us. The crew chief slapped Sergeant Grimes on the shoulder… when the veteran sergeant felt that it was safely low enough, he bolted out the door dropping quickly to a knee into a shooting position. All of us were out within 10-15 seconds…a well practiced maneuver perfected to perfection, almost two seconds per man.  Behind us our Huey was already leaving as three others dropped in and left just as quickly. Now we were 32 men strong. Spread out in a semi circle, we began moving quickly to the south side of the LZ. Each eight man team had a job to do. Ours was to secure this LZ for everyone’s extraction. We spread out, two man teams ten meters or so apart and found cover to help us avoid detection. The other teams headed quickly into the small collection of nearby houses, each team assigned to a certain house. Everything was eerily quiet. A dog barked loudly near the closest home. The frequency of drug runners coming and going from the jungles in their helicopters had ensured that no one came out to look at us when our helicopters had suddenly appeared. Being too curious had often not gone well for the locals. These days no one dared look out when strange helicopters appeared in the night. This was something we had counted on.

The three teams disappeared from sight. We waited, sweat flowing, every unknown sound a possible threat! My eyes burned from the sweat. Remembering, finally, that I had a sweat band tucked into a pocket, I quickly donned it to help fight off the sweat. And we waited. Suddenly a stumbling bunch of figures were seen coming towards us! A coded word sounded from Corporal Smith! In a heartbeat an answer came back…the Alpha team was back, dragging two tied and shrouded figures! At least something had happened! Then the first shots were heard in the distance.

----------------------------------------------------------------

My memories of what followed next are confused. We were violently attacked. My buddy, Jake, in a prone position on my left, was quickly wounded in the first exchange of gunfire. Those next few minutes seemed to last hours! Jake was crying out, dust and debris was filling the air around us as ripping lines of automatic weapons fire and exploding grenades threw our world into a deafening storm of activity! I remember the medic coming to Jake’s side, then falling as he also was wounded. Then I was lifted into the air as something exploded nearby! After that a foggy kind of darkness seemed to overwhelm me and my vision clouded.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, welcome back, soldier,” commented the smiling nurse. I had awakened to feel her hands on my forehead. I soon learned she had been checking my bandages. As she walked over to a nearby sink, my eyes followed her. That was when I saw the small Bible on the bedside table. It was my Bible. I had carried it in my shirt pocket. It had been a gift from my sister a couple of years ago. But now it looked very different. It appeared to have gotten wet and somehow was disfigured. Its cover looked dirty and part of it looked to have been burned a bit. “That Bible probably helped to save your life,” she said. She had turned from the sink and caught my gaze as I stared at it. “It has two pieces of shrapnel embedded in it. They are probably from an exploded grenade. They would have entered your heart if they had passed through,” she explained. Suddenly, I felt sleepy and my eyes closed even though I tried to keep my focus, now on her.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Today, I sit here in my office and from time to time I turn and look at that same small Bible. It is now resting on my bookshelf under a glass cover, protected from dust and curious little hands. It, and some occasional foggy dreams filled with shouts and fuzzy images, are all I have in the way of souvenirs of the worst day in my four years as an Army Ranger.  Fortunately, my injuries healed and today I coach high school football in a small North Florida town. About once a year, Jake and I talk by phone and catch each other up on our lives. We talk about our families and how good God has been to us. Last year, Jake moved to Maine and is now pastoring a Methodist church there. We both are thankful to God for Sergeant Grimes, who carried us each in turn to the safety of a waiting Huey helicopter that fateful day. And for the medic, Slim Wilson, who died that day trying to help Jake.
There is a verse in that small Bible which says something like “No greater love has a man than this that he lay down his life for a friend.” Not sure if I quoted that correctly, but I understand its meaning.

Though I had carried my Bible in those days as a kind of good luck charm, it was Sergeant Grimes and Slim Wilson who taught me how to live by it. You see those two helped out at the local Army chapel when duty would allow them to be there. They always put the good of others ahead of themselves. They were men of faith. And as I hear the sound of my children playing down the hall, I am very thankful for that.   
Cb  
 3/4/14