Hunting Camp

The season was done. My friend had been appointed to make the last visit. On a drizzly February day we descended through the loess bluffs of west Holmes County onto the alluvium below. We drove through Tchula, and on to Sidon, just north of Egypt, near Providence Plantation. There we left the highway to slide through fields and woods, by way of huge mudholes, past cypress and tupelo gum. Lastly, on crossing the weir, we reached Dixie Brake. It had been a soybean plantation until its present owners' restoration of its more natural state with new stands of persimmon, oak, pecan and sycamore, and with fields of sage bordering fresh ponds where ducks floated in sanctuary. We crossed to the far side, where the Delta joins the hills, and ascended to view the muted earth below. Finally, we had to do what we had come for. We proceeded back through the mist to the camp, located next to an ancient oxbow, a lake which had been a bend of the Yazoo, until the river moved two miles west. The camphouse had been recycled from a previous existence in town. It looked very plain with firewood stacked under a window. Once inside, we retrieved abandoned jars of pickles and jelly from the refrigerator and picked up an old magazine and a coat hanger from the couch.


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