Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings

Joel Chandler Harris

XV

Mr. Fox Goes A-Hunting, But Mr. Rabbit Bags The Game

“ATTER Brer Fox hear ’bout how Brer Rabbit done Brer Wolf,” said Uncle Remus, scratching his head with the point of his awl, “he ’low, he did, dat he better not be so brash, en he sorter let Brer Rabbit ’lone. Dey wuz all time seein’ one nudder, en ’bunnunce er times Brer Fox could er nab Brer Rabbit, but eve’y time he got de chance, his mine ’ud sorter rezume ’bout Brer Wolf, en he let Brer Rabbit ’lone. Bimeby dey ’gun ter git kinder familious wid wunner nudder like dey useter, en it got so Brer Fox’d call on Brer Rabbit, en dey’d set up en smoke der pipes, dey would, like no ha’sh feelin’s ‘d ever rested ’twixt um.

“Las’, one day Brer Fox come ’long all rig out, en ax Brer Rabbit fer ter go huntin’ wid ’im, but Brer Rabbit, he sorter feel lazy, en he tell Brer Fox dat he got some udder fish fer ter fry. Brer Fox feel mighty sorry, he did, but he say he bleeve he try his han’ enny how, en off he put. He wuz gone all day, en he had a monstus streak er luck, Brer Fox did, en he bagged a sight er game. Bimeby, to’rds de shank er de evenin’, Brer Rabbit sorter stretch hisse’f, he did, en low hit’s mos’ time fer Brer Fox fer ter git ’long home. Den Brer Rabbit, he went’n mounted a stump fer ter see ef he could year Brer Fox comin’. He ain’t bin dar long, twel sho’ fluff, yer come Brer Fox thoo de woods, singing like a nigger at a frolic. Brer Rabbit, he lipt down off’n de stump, he did, en lay down in de road en make like he dead. Brer Fox he come ’long, he did, en see Brer Rabbit layin’ dar. He tu’n ’im over, he did, en ’zamine ’im, en Say, sezee:

“‘Dish yer rabbit dead. He look like he bin dead long time. He dead, but he mighty fat. He de fattes’ rabbit w’at I ever see, but he bin dead too long. I feard ter take ’im home,’ sezee.

“Brer Rabbit ain’t sayin’ nuthin’. Brer Fox, he sorter lick his chops, but he Went on en lef’ Brer Rabbit layin’ in de road. Dreckly he wuz outer sight, Brer Rabbit, he jump up, he did, en run roun’ thoo de Woods en git befo Brer Fox agin. Brer Fox, he come up, en dar lay Brer Rabbit, periently cole en stiff. Brer Fox, he look at Brer Rabbit, en he sorter study. Atter while he onslung his game-bag, en say ter hisse’f, sezee:

“‘Deze yer rabbits gwine ter was’e. I’ll des ’bout leave my game yer, en I’ll go back’n git dat udder rabbit, en I’ll make fokes ’leeve dat I’m ole man Hunter fum Huntsville,’ sezee.

“En wid dat he drapt his game en loped back up de road atter de udder rabbit, en w’en he got outer sight, ole Brer Rabbit, he snatch up Brer Fox game en put out fer home. Nex’ time he see Brer Fox he holler out:

“‘What you kill de udder day, Brer Fox?’ sezee.

“Den Brer Fox, he sorter koam his flank wid his tongue, en holler back:

“‘I kotch a han’ful er hard sense, Brer Rabbit,’ sezee.

“Den ole Brer Rabbit, he laff, he did, en up en ’spon’, sezee:

“‘Ef I’d a know’d you wuz atter dat, Brer Fox, I’d a loant you some er mine,’ sezee.”