In the deep south, way out in the country, there are things that old-timers like me remember, but hardly anyone else ever talks about. The occasional hunter may see some odd things. Even a fisherman that ventures to a favorite, mostly forgotten hole far back in woods past the privet hedge, honeysuckle and kudzu.

Many years ago, Mrs. Dot Hand lived relatively close to us. Living on a farm, you typically couldn't see your neighbor's house from your own. There were a couple of fields, a branch, a pond and several pecan trees between our house and hers. (A branch is a stand of trees growing next to a stream or creek. In other places, they are called hollows. A friend of mine from Kentucky called them hollers.)

On the west side of the road, the branch was pretty small. It covered maybe two or three acres. We had a spring-fed pond there and the spillway dumped under the road and fed the branch on the other side.

Our branch was fairly clean. There was some undergrowth there, but not too much. We played in there quite a bit. There were wild grapes growing on the north side that came in season in August.

Muscadines are way more tasty than any store-bought grape. So are scuppernongs. I find, though, that a lot of people don't like them because the skin is thick and the flesh is very sweet.

The branch on the east side of the road was different. It was deeper, denser and more ominous.

We rarely ventured in there because of the sense of foreboding.

When we did, we were armed with shotguns.

What were we worried about? What could possibly be in these woods?

We knew there were bobcats there. You'd see an occasional track in the mud next to a road or creek but they are so wary that they are hardly ever seen.

Bears? Perhaps, but not likely. I'd never seen bear sign although I knew my uncle hunted them occasionally at the swamp near Waycross.

I never had any fear of these because I knew that if confronted, we could make enough noise and commotion to turn these animals in their tracks.

What we, or at least I, feared was something much more stealthy, something much more calculating...

One day I was talking to Mrs. Hand about something and she started reminiscing about her childhood.

Being young, I thought she was ancient, but she was probably about the age I am now or maybe a little older. She probably was born sometime in the '20s. I can't say for sure.

I do know that where she lived was pretty close to where she was raised.

She started talking about things that she had seen and heard when she was a girl particularly in the fall and winter when then foliage was thinning.

Screams could be heard coming from down near the mill pond - blood curdling screams. Sometimes they would be in a branch that we shared to the west. They were never near houses or out in the open.

Sometimes their dogs would take off to find out what was going on. Sometimes they lay there cowering. Occasionally a dog would not come back.

Some mornings they would go to tend the cows and horses to find that a colt or calf was missing. Searches would turn up blood and maybe a bone or two but not much else.

They would find tracks - huge cat tracks that would disappear within a few feet of entering a branch.

Everglades panthers, which are a variant of pumas, cougars or mountain lions, do live down in our area.

I saw one once in the middle of the day as I was driving from my grandmother's place. It jumped out of the woods about 150 yards ahead of me and bounded across the road. It's feet only hit the road once about the center line. I figure that's about an 8 foot bound.

What I saw was probably a juvenile because it wasn't much larger than a medium-sized dog. It was tawny in color, had black ear tips and a black tipped tail. The tail was as long or longer than the body. I know what I saw.

The thing about Mrs. Hand's stories and others that I've heard is that the cats haunting our branches were not tawny. They were black.

I have one acquaintance that said three crossed the road in his headlights one night.

Georgia's Department of Natural Resources (DNR) will tell you there are no black cats in Georgia.

The only known cluster of black cats in the US are black leopards somewhere along the Mexican border and it's a long haul from there to south Georgia.

How can they say that for certain?

Image by skeeze