Memories of Stoneville Woods: a squirrel hunter’s paradise

By Guest Columnist Billy Johnson

When I was a kid, squirrel hunting was a popular sport. Stoneville Woods was a squirrel hunter’s paradise, and no one knew those woods better than Elmer Burchfield. He grew up around Zama in Attala County. There were few deer in that area at that time, so hunting for small game like squirrels, rabbits and quail was a way to put meat on the table.

The best hunters in my father’s generation were from areas like this. During the 1930s, there weren’t many deer in the whole state, fifteen hundred or less. Market hunting and the depression had wiped them out. Some of the best deer and turkey hunters I knew grew up hunting
squirrels with single shot .22 rifles.

Dr. Elmo Cox grew up around Shiloh, Tennessee, and was an excellent woodsman. He would find a tree where squirrels were feeding and make a slow wide circle around it. Bringing in a limit of squirrels, all shot in the head, was a routine thing for Dr. Cox.

Vic Turner grew up in the hills and would start squirrel hunting every year when the squirrels started cutting pinecones. Providing a mess of squirrels for his family’s supper was his job. A meal of fried young squirrels, rice and gravy, and home-made biscuits was fine table fare.

The opening of squirrel season was a big deal before bow hunting for deer became popular. Most camps had a member who was known for his squirrel stew recipe. On Montgomery Island, the caretaker, Clay Matthews, could field dress a squirrel in no time. He would clean all the squirrels and check to see how thick the hair was on their backs. He would then make his annual prediction on how severe the winter was going to be. He would also see how high the hornets’ nests were in the trees to help with his prediction. Hornets’ nests close to the ground meant a warm winter.

I always think about Elmer Burchfield the opening day of squirrel season. He wore one of those short-brimmed camouflage bucket hats. He would lean up beside a tree with a low-hanging branch over him to watch for squirrels. In all my hunts with him in Stoneville Woods, I never beat him.

There were blue line roads in those woods. They were dim, narrow roads marked with blue print on the trees every so often. Now, it sounded pretty simple to just stay on that road until you get to a big ditch, take a right on the gravel road, and meet back up at the truck. But when you’d see a couple of squirrels out through the woods and go sneaking off that road to get them, it was easy to lose the road you were on.

Elmer never set a time to be back at the truck. It was always when you got a limit or until the wind got up. Elmer would take some young squirrels to Mrs. Tollison, who was also from Attala County and worked at Joe Turner Hardware. She would fix a big supper of squirrel and dumplings and candied sweet potatoes. That was right up Elmer’s alley.
My dad, Clint Johnson, would take me to Stoneville Woods when I was a young boy. His friend, Floyd Horn, Teeny’s dad, had a crackerjack Fiest squirrel dog named Pete. Now, that was really fun. It was plenty of excitement and shooting. I liked that better than having to be still and quiet when you slip around hunting squirrels. Back then, a box of .22 shorts was thirty-five cents, and long rifles were forty-five cents so squirrel hunting was a lot of fun for not much money. One thing I remember about squirrel hunting in Stoneville Woods was to always bring
a compass and a can of Off.