Deep in the guts of most men is buried the involuntary response to the hunter’s horn, a prickle of the nape hairs, an acceleration of the pulse, an atavistic memory of his fathers, who killed first with stone, and then with club, and then with spear, and then with bow, and then with gun, and finally with formulae.” — Robert Ruark, Horn of the Hunter
Two Tennessee rednecks are out hunting,
and as they are walking along
they come upon a huge hole in the ground.
They approach it
and are amazed by the hole’s size.
The first hunter says, “Wow, that’s some hole;
I can’t even see the bottom.
I wonder how deep that hole is.”
The second hunter says,” I don’t know,
let’s throw something down
and listen
and see how long it takes to hit bottom.”
First hunter says, “There’s this old automobile transmission here,
give me a hand and we’ll throw it in and see.”
So they pick it up and carry it over,
and count one,
and two
and three,
and throw it in the hole.
They are standing there listening
and looking over the edge
and they hear a rustling in the brush behind them.
As they turn around,
they see a goat come crashing through the brush,
run up to the hole
and with no hesitation,
jump in head first.
While they are standing there
looking at each other,
looking in the hole
and trying to figure out
what that was all about,
an old farmer walks up.
“Say there,” says the farmer,
“you fellers didn’t happen to see
my goat around here anywhere, did you?”
The first hunter says, ” Funny you should ask,
but we were just standing here a minute ago
and a goat came running out of the bushes
doin’ about a hunnert miles an hour
and jumped headfirst into this hole here!”
The old farmer said,
“That’s impossible.
I had him chained
to a automobile transmission.”