If you've hunted long enough, you've probably had a squirrel bark at you, an owl about knock your hat off, or a woodpecker land so close you could've swatted him with your cap. But if you're Ol' Red, well, the woods just seem to have bigger plans.
It was opening week, and Bubba and Red had slipped into a section of woods we called the Big Swamp. It wasn't really a swamp all year long, but there was enough black water, cypress knees, gall berries, and palmettos to make you think twice about steppin' off the trail in the dark. Their ladder stands sat about two hundred yards apart, one on each side of the swamp. You couldn't hear each other worth a lick, but once daylight broke, you could usually spot the other fella sittin' in his stand if you knew where to look.
Earl and I had hunted another ridge that morning, so it was just Bubba and Red watching opposite ends of that swamp. At daybreak, the woods were as still as church on Monday. Nothing moving, nothing stirring. Well........not yet. It was that kind of quiet that only lasts a few minutes before the woods wake up, only this time they were about to wake up for a reason nobody expected.
Red had settled in, poured himself a little coffee from his thermos, and was convinced this would be the morning an old bruiser eased across that swamp. He had his rifle resting across his lap, his coffee in one hand, and all the confidence in the world that he'd picked the right stand.
Then he felt his tree move a little.
Red froze and slowly looked around without moving much. He looked down expecting to see a hog rubbing against the tree or maybe a deer scratching his antlers on it, but there wasn't a thing down there. He checked the ground around the base, looked behind the ladder, and even leaned out far enough to see the other side of the trunk. Nothing. He figured maybe the wind had caught the top, but there wasn't enough breeze to stir a spider web.
He took another sip of coffee and tried to put it out of his mind.
The tree shook again.
This time it moved a little harder, and that got Ol' Red a bit concerned. He eased his rifle tighter into his lap and looked all around the base of that tree one more time. Still nothing. Across the swamp, Bubba could see Red wrestlin' around in his stand like he'd got into a bed of chiggers. Bubba couldn't tell what Red was looking for, but he knew something had his attention.
Then the tree gave one good hard shake. Red grabbed the rail, set his coffee down, and slowly leaned his head back and froze.
About fifteen feet above him, stretched out across two thick limbs like he owned the place, was the biggest black bear Red had ever seen. That bear had been sleeping up there the whole time, and from the look of things, Red's moving around had finally woke him up.
The bear opened his eyes and looked down at Red about the same time Red looked up at him. Now I know good and well Red's cheeks tightened up so quick they probably took a bite out of the tree stand seat.
Across the swamp, Bubba still couldn't tell what Red was staring at, but whatever it was had turned him as stiff as a fence post. Bubba stood up in his stand and leaned forward to see over the gall berries. That's when he finally spotted it. There was the bear looking down at Red, and there was Red looking up at the bear.
Bubba grabbed the rail with both hands because his knees had suddenly quit working. He wasn't scared. He was trying not to laugh loud enough for the whole county to hear. There sat Ol' Red. There laid a bear. Both of 'em staring at each other like they were trying to decide whose tree it really was.
Red later said it felt like thirty minutes. Truth was, it was probably ten seconds, but when you've got a black bear hanging over your head, ten seconds can feel like half a lifetime.
Bubba said he could see Red's mouth moving like he was talking to the bear. I can only imagine what he was saying, but knowing Red, he probably looked up and said, "Well, mornin'. Did I wake ya up?"
Anyway, that big ol' bear blinked, sniffed the air, and let out one of those low rumbling yawns followed by a short huff, as if to say, "Thanks for interrupting my sleep." Then he let out another deep huff that'll shorten your life by about three years, and this time Red got a face full of bear slobber.
Across the swamp, Bubba had tears running down his face. He was trying so hard to keep from laughing that his whole tree was shaking the leaves off. He had one hand over his mouth and the other wrapped around the rail, but it wasn't helping much.
Red figured slow movements were the key. Real slow, like molasses in the dead of winter. He eased one hand toward the ladder and tried not to make eye contact with the bear. Then all of a sudden, that bear reached one big paw down toward him.
The bear wasn't trying to hurt Red. He was probably just stretching after a good night's sleep, but you couldn't have convinced Red of that with a signed letter from the bear himself.
Red shot down that ladder like he'd fallen out of the sky. He made it about three feet before his safety strap caught him and snapped him backward. Now he was hanging against the front of that ladder stand, kicking his legs and trying to get hold of something while the bear looked down at him like he was wondering what kind of fool had moved into his tree.
Bubba was about to hyperventilate. He was bent over the shooting rail, close to passing out because he was laughing so hard. Red said later, "That dang paw was bigger than my entire head." Bubba said the funniest part wasn't the paw. It was watching Red fly off that stand and then come flying right back when the safety strap caught him.
The bear scratched his belly, yawned again, and without even a bit of concern, climbed down the back side of the tree. He stopped for a few seconds and looked around the trunk at Red, who was still hanging there trying to gather up what was left of his dignity. Then the bear climbed the rest of the way down and walked out through the swamp like he didn't have a care in the world.
Red didn't move for another ten minutes, just hung on like a spider waiting for something to fly into its web.
Across the swamp, Bubba finally quit laughing long enough to climb down. By the time the two of them met back at the truck, Bubba couldn't even look at Red without starting all over again.
Red looked at him and said, "What?"
Bubba wiped his eyes and said, "I didn't know you could move that fast. When you got hung up by that strap and started hangin' there like a spider, I almost fell out of my own stand laughing."
"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," Red said. "I thought I was fixing to die."
"So did I," Bubba said.
"And you're laughing about that?" Red asked, looking at him like Bubba had lost his mind.
Bubba shook his head and said, "You know what Earl always says. If nobody died or lost a limb, it's funny."
Red didn't answer.
Then Bubba started grinning again and said, "You know what the funniest part was?"
"What?"
"I saw you talking to him. What'd you say, good mornin'?"
Red shrugged and said, "Seemed rude not to."
Bubba doubled over again.
By the time they got back to camp, he'd laughed himself hoarse. I listened to Bubba tell the whole story without saying a word. He acted out Red looking up, the bear looking down, and Red shooting off that stand so fast he nearly left his boots behind. Every time Bubba got to the part where the safety strap caught Red and slung him back against the ladder, he had to stop and catch his breath.
When Bubba finally finished, Earl leaned back in his chair and looked over at Red.
"Red," Earl said.
"Yeah?"
"I've hunted these woods fifty years."
"So?"
"I've seen bears."
"Mmm-hmm."
"I've seen bears climb trees."
"Yep."
"I've even seen bears sleep in trees."
Red smiled and said, "I figured you had."
Earl nodded slowly and said, "But I'll tell you one thing I ain't never seen."
"What's that?"
"A bear wake up and look down to see you."
The whole cabin busted out laughing. Red just grinned, took another sip of coffee, and said, "Yep, I reckon you're right about that. Oh, and by the way, Waylon, I ain't never sittin' in any of your stands again."
I looked at Red, then looked at Earl, shrugged my shoulders, and finished my coffee. Not another word was said, but every once in a while, whenever Red walked through camp, Bubba would make a little bear growl under his breath. Red would stop, look at him, and Bubba would start laughing all over again.
It's never happened to anyone else, but we ain't laying money that it won't happen to Red again. He's just lucky like that.
And yes, we still laugh about it.