Jackson County, Georgia - Chapter 3 (1 of 5 so headed), 1914

Though the species of animals found in the primeval forests of this country by our ancestors, were not so many as those living in the jungles of Africa or in the plains of Asia, yet they were quite numerous. Some were dangerous and others harmless. At least one distinguishing characteristic applied to every one of whatever kind - all were sleek and fat - none were poor or lean. All were wild, but some more gentle than others. As everywhere else the vicious animals were not the wildest. Nothing approaching a domesticated animal had ever been seen by a native of the country except two horses of which they were much afraid at first, thinking that the horse and his rider were one and the same creature.

With the passing of some of the birds, many animals have disappeared also. The beautiful and innocent red deer, always sleek, clean and toothsome, and as swift as the wind ; the sly fox, the delight of all hunters, and as cunning as a native; and the barking gray squirrel, the ornament of the woods and a target for the sportsman, are nearly all gone, now.

The opossum, prowler of the night and hypocrite of the woods, the raccoon, the little bear of the swamps and inhabitant of hollow trees; and the rabbit, the Molly Cotton Tail of the thicket, and the reputed companion of witches, are still here, but comparatively few in number. The latter little animal, the rabbit, is, or rather was, the most singular creature known to the country. Though still queer and hard to understand, the hunter, with his dogs and shot gun, have greatly changed his habits, his manners and his customs. Naturally timid, as his speed, large eyes and ears certainly indicate, the close seclusion and constant watching required by modern conditions, give him something to do besides gamboling and playing over the hills and up and down the valleys as he did in old times. Having but few enemies rabbits were more numerous then than now for an Indian never killed one. Among them as among other nations there were curious people and when one of these died they believed his or her spirit went into a rabbit and made a witch. Hence the immunity of these animals from death at the hand of a native.

All animals have a sense of humor, more or less, especially when young. Perhaps rabbits and squirrels are more notable for their playful moods after they are grown than any other natives of this country. In old times when the latter would run up a tree only far enough to get beyond the reach of the hunter's dog, and turn around and actually bark at him with what seemed to be saucy, defiant mockery, they were very different from what they are now. Their playful running up and down trees, over the waving and slender branches, and jumping as if they had wings, from one tree to another, was very pleasing, and always engaged the closest attention of the hunter who never ventured to fire his gun at one when thus employed. Their exercises, though not so varied as those of the rabbits, were so elegantly performed, and their barking and chattering manifested so much real delight, that the respect of the beholder for the pretty little animals was always too great to admit of any interference with their fun, whatever.

Notwithstanding their wonderful acrobatical exploits among the trees, a squirrel was seldom known to fall to the ground. On one occasion when several were chasing each other up and down a great poplar tree in which was a large hole some thirty feet from the ground, the foremost one finally ran in it, and the others quickly followed. As quickly all came running out at the same time, and in such a hurry that some of them lost their footing and fell to the ground. After looking around for a moment, they scampered off through the forest and did not return. Their companions that were playing on other trees at once seemed to know that something was wrong and soon disappeared, also. It was afterwards found that the hollow into which the playing squirrels ran, contained one old raccoon and two young ones. Their haste to get out and the stampede that followed were explained.

jumping. In 1841, James Hampton who lived in the vicinity of Commerce, shot off the tail of a gray squirrel. It fell to the ground, but the squirrel itself escaped to a hollow tree. Near his house there grew a large, spreading chestnut tree which at the time was full of chestnuts, ripe in the opening burrs. The next day his daughter, Lenora Hampton, noticed that squirrels were frequently passing back and forth from the forest in which the squirrel had been wounded to the big chestnut tree, and that their actions were very peculiar. She notified her father of the discovery and at once they began to watch the proceedings. At noon the following day they were entirely satisfied that the friends of the wounded squirrel had coaxed him out of his den, induced him to sit in the crotch of the tree, amply supplied him with chestnuts from the field, and moreover, that he utterly refused to eat them ! This continued for several days through which he sat, looking sad and dejected, without, so far as those who watched him could discover, eating anything. On the morning of the seventh day he was found dead at the root of the tree from which he had fallen. A careful examination showed that no part of his body had been injured by a bullet or otherwise. Doubtless the poor little fellow had grieved himself to death because of the loss of his tail. Lenora Hampton is still living and sometimes tells the pathetic story of the bob-tailed squirrel in the long time ago.

To further show that a squirrel highly values his tail, the following incident is given. Two young ones were kept in a cage until they were nearly grown and had become quite tame. As time passed on, one gnawed the hair off of his companion's tail so closely that he looked more like a rat than a squirrel. At last they escaped from prison and went to the woods. The uninjured one remained in the vicinity, but the rat-tailed fellow kept on and was afterwards seen several miles away. He never returned to the home of his shame, but his companion, being known by a small brass chain around his neck as well as by his manners, often went back on a short but always cautious visit.

The howl of the savage and always hungry wolf ; the spring of the stealthy panther with his inordinate thirst for human blood; and the great black bear sniffing around at midnight in search of something to devour, and occasionally giving his ugly growls, were constantly a terror to those who heard them.

As all these animals had a mortal dread of fire, the only way to keep them at a distance while the pioneers were asleep was to keep a fire burning in the yard all night. True, many were killed ; but it required a long time to perceptibly diminish the great number that roamed through the forests.

While the wolves, panthers and bears gave the first white settlers of this part of the country much trouble, still another animal whose existence has often been disputed, inspired those who professed to have seen him, with more fear than all the others combined. It was the Wog, not Woog as it has sometimes been called. Many of the people who first lived at and for several miles around old Jug Tavern from its first settlement to about 1809, claimed to have seen him at their houses. As the character of the people who first lived there will be shown as this narrative progresses, the reader will be at as much loss to know how he can afford to dispute their word as he is to believe what they have said. At any rate the writer tells the story as it was told to him ; but, perhaps, with a little more evidence than any reader has.

The wog was said to be a jet-black, long-haired animal about the size of a small horse, but his legs were much shorter, the front ones being some twelve inches longer than the hind ones. This gave him something of the appearance of a huge dog "sitting on its tail," and when walking seemed to require him to carry forward one side at a time. His tail was very large, all the way of the same size, and at the end of it there was a bunch of entirely white hair at least eight inches long and larger in diameter than the tail itself. "Whether sitting, standing or walking this curious appendage was in constant motion from side to side, not as a dog wags his tail, but with a quick upward curve which brought it down with a whizzing sound that could be distinctly heard at least when twenty-five or thirty steps distant. But the most distinguishing feature of this horrid tail was that it revealed the presence of the monster in the dark - the only time he ventured to go abroad. His great red eyes were very repulsive, but not so much so as his forked tongue, the prongs of which were thought to be eight inches long and sometimes played in and out his mouth like those of a mad snake. Really the meanest feature about the beast was that his bear-like head contained a set of great white teeth over which his ugly lips never closed.

The Indians told the first white emigrants that so long as the wog was left undisturbed he would not molest any one - that he would sometimes visit their houses - go around them - if a light were inside, poke his tongue through any opening he could find between the logs, and then go away. Pioneers were not only quick to learn this lesson, but also carefully followed the instruction.

During the years formerly mentioned, the wog made several visits to houses in the territory to which reference has been made. Those inside the house, though they had not seen the flirting of his white plume, knew of his presence by its whizzing sound, by the poke of his horrid tongue through the cracks of the wall, and notably by the mortal fear with which he inspired other creatures outside. Dogs and cats ran away and in some instances were scared to death. Horses snorted, cattle moaned and chickens flew from their roosts in all directions.

Thus having seemingly accomplished his only mission - to frighten everything out of its wits - he gave a loud snort and still twirling his white signal from side to side, went ambling away, and welcome was the going.

The foregoing is, in substance, the description given by Alonzo Draper who lived and died in the territory of the wog, and also by Thomas C. Barron who died near Apply Valley in the '40 's of the last century.

Let me repeat : I give the account of the wog as it was given to me. It is hard to confess that one believes that there was such a thing and one hates to say that he does not believe the word of these old citizens. The writer must leave the matter to you, dear reader.