Swamp Water

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Look. There's the boat.

Let's get over there.

- We won't have to look no further.

- Aye-yippety-aye.

They was gator-ate.

You spoke the truth, Sheriff Jeb,

ain't no doubt about it.

A mighty big wet place, Okefenokee.

I'll say she is, Thursday. 700 miles of nothing.

700 miles ain't gonna see

hide nor hair of me, Marty.

Come on, let's get out of here.

It'll soon be duskdark.

We can't get losted, Jeb, not as long as

we can keep sight of that cross.

Maybe not, Tim,

but I can get mighty nervous.

Come on, shove her off, Hardy. Let's get.

Trouble. Come back here.

Trouble, come back here.

Trouble.

Trouble.

- Morning, Miss Hannah.

- Morning.

- Seen my dog?

- No, I ain't.

I swear, Hannah, you're a right pretty woman.

I don't know how come you ever married

an old man like me.

You ain't no old man.

I wish you wouldn't

go fox-hunting all the time.

Always going off with them dogs at duskdark

and leaving me here alone.

Hannah, I've been doing it

ever since I was old enough to own a dog.

You just can't change us swamp folks.

Look at Ben and that dog of his.

I get lonesome.

Why, I told you,

your sister could come and live with us.

It ain't my sister I'm lonesome for.

- Going trapping, son?

- No, sir.

My dog ain't back. I'm going at him.

Come here, Ben.

Yes, sir.

You be careful and keep clear of that swamp.

How can I keep clear of Okefenokee?

That's where my dog is.

- You heard me, son.

- When are you coming back, Ben?

When I find that fool dog, Miss Hannah.

You be back by tomorrow night

and keep clear of that swamp.

You know where I gotta go to find my dog.

You'll be back here by tomorrow night

or not at all.

Ben.

- I'll try to get back.

- Don't try. Get back.

- I don't care whether I get back or not.

- That's up to you.

Ben.

Goodbye, Miss Hannah.

You ain't never been that hard-minded.

He ain't never headed for

that swamp before, neither.

You've been like

a second mother to him, Hannah.

Surely you know how I feel.

Sure I know.

A woman don't need no telling.

Trouble with you menfolk is you're afraid

to let on to each other how you feel.

Hello, Ben.

- Howdy, Mabel.

- My goodness. You look like a thundercloud.

- I just had a big fight with my father.

- Whatever for?

- My dog's losted.

- That's nothing to fight about.

- We fit about my going to get him.

- Oh, Ben.

What are you laughing about?

I got a right to get my dog, ain't I?

Don't fight with me about it.

Go get your dog if you want.

- That's what I aim to.

- Ben?

- Guess you are upset.

- I've got old Trouble on my mind.

Well, for heaven's sake, go look for him, then.

That's just what I'm gonna do.

A box of 12-gauge shells, Marty.

- Who's a-winning, Dave?

- Well, it's kind of give-and-take.

That old mule of yours

is getting pretty lame, ain't she?

Yeah. She's got a nail in her foot.

If I ever get time, I'm gonna pull it out.

- You got time to work on me a little?

- I'll take time.

Where you heading for, Ben?

Okefenokee.

- You're going into that swamp?

- Yes. I gotta find my dog.

You're going in alone?

- Lessen you want to go with me.

- No, not me.

Hot dang, I can just see you

a-sashaying into that swamp.

Yeah, then come hauling-tail outta there

with a bull gator snapping at your britches.

- I ain't afraid of no swamp.

- Neither was them trappers we looked for.

- What you trying to do?

- I wanted to see if your hat would fit me.

That's all we're ever gonna find of you.

Doggone that she-housecat.

She throws a litter every time I turn my back.

I'll tell you what we'll do.

You give us a bottle of that red whisky,

and Bud and me'll put all them cats

in one sack and throw 'em in the creek.

Sure will.

- Be dogged if you ain't made a deal.

- Catch 'em. Get a sack.

Hurry up, Bud.

Here.

- That yellow hyena.

- Kitty, kitty.

Behind that barrel. Move.

- Don't let 'em get away.

- No, he ain't here.

- Well, I'll be doggoned. Where did he go?

- He went over there someplace.

- Here he is.

- Gimme that cat.

You, young 'un.

Fetch it back.

You hear me?

Why don't you let her have it, Marty?

Give him the cat, you.

Maybe we ought to put you

in that croker sack, you little fighting cat.

- Fork over that bottle of red-eye, Marty.

- Hurry up.

Ben.

If you aim to rassle them bull gators,

you'll need a swallow of this.

No, thanks, Bud. It might taste of cats.

Ben.

Cold-out crazy about that dog,

bless Katy if he ain't.

Can't nobody stop him now.

Old Trouble.

Who are you?

Ain't you Tom Keefer?

- I'm mighty sorry, bud.

- Sorry you gave me that lick on the head?

I'm mighty sorry

you turned out to know I'm Tom Keefer.

You come at me?

No.

No, I come at my dog, that's all.

I didn't even know

you was a-hiding in Okefenokee.

Old Sheriff Jeb figured you got away

to Savannah after you escaped.

If you was to let me take my dog and go,

I wouldn't never tell nobody.

I don't expect I could do that.

You wouldn't never

find your way outta here anyways.

- You could tell me how to get out.

- I don't expect I could.

I reckon I know what happened

to them trappers now.

They was cottonmouth-bit.

I found them dead, all swole up.

I buried 'em up yonder.

- What's your name, bud?

- Ben. Ben Ragan.

Thursday Ragan's boy?

Thursday was on the jury

that tried to get me hung.

Well, why don't you go ahead?

You done killed one man, ain't ya?

I figured I'd cut the throat

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