Chapter 3: Hunters and Hunted
The next morning, Bo was the first awake in the room he shared with Luke. Bright dawn sunlight was shining in through the window as he threw off his blankets, stretched, and scratched an itch. Luke was fast asleep, snoring louder than usual. Taking a change of clothes with him, Bo headed for the bathroom for a quick, hot shower. Daisy was still sleeping, after working late, but it sounded like Uncle Jesse was up and cooking eggs for breakfast. Bo toweled off and dressed quickly, still hungry and enticed by the smell of fried eggs. He ran a comb through his hair and went back to his room to deposit his pajama pants on the bed, shaking Luke's foot as he walked past.
"You gonna sleep all day, cousin?"
"Mmmm?"
"We've got hunting to do, remember?"
"Oh yeah," came Luke's sleepy reply. "ATCHOO!" he sneezed, followed by a pair of short coughs.
"You okay, Luke?"
"Yeah, I'm okay, I'll be out in a couple of minutes." Luke sat up, rubbing bleary, watery eyes.
Bo left his cousin to get dressed and headed into the kitchen, where Jesse served him some eggs. He folded his hands in silent prayer for a few moments before digging in. From down the hall, they heard Luke sneeze and cough a few more times as he got up, showered, and dressed. Bo had finished by the time he came into the kitchen, sniffing and looking like he'd hardly slept.
"Sounds like you've got a cold," Jesse observed, serving him a plate of eggs as he sat heavily in the chair.
"Feels like I've got a cold," Luke agreed, accepting a cup of hot coffee.
"How's the leg this morning?"
"A little sore. Better than last night," Luke said, folding his hands to pray silently as Bo had done.
"You gonna be alright to hunt?" Bo asked, concerned for his older cousin. Neither of them got sick that often.
Luke smiled, swallowing a mouthful of egg. "I'll be fine, as long as you don't scare the deer off."
Bo snorted indignantly. "Me? If I remember right, it was you that stepped on a stick and flushed that buck before I was ready."
"No, no, no…"
Jesse smiled, listening to his nephews argue. No need to worry about these two, he thought, they'd always take care of each other. He stood up, interrupting the exchange. "I'll be outside taking care of the chores. You boys be careful out there."
"We will, Uncle Jesse," the boys echoed one another, and went back to arguing the finer details of that last hunt.
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Despite Luke's assertion, they hadn't been on the trails for long when Bo began to doubt whether his cousin should have come. When they'd crossed the fields to the forest far out back, bows in hand, Luke had seemed alright, albeit limping a bit. As they moved up into the wooded hills, though, Luke lagged further and further behind. He coughed at intervals, deeper and harder. Bo's attention was divided between watching his cousin and watching for signs of game, a hard task with one behind and the other somewhere ahead.
Near the crest of the second hill, as Bo paused again while Luke caught up. A sound caught his ear, and he nocked an arrow to his bow and drew, sighting on a clump of bushes. Luke half-heartedly jogged into view, with a burst of coughing stopping him in his tracks and startling a turkey out of the clump of bushes. Bo fired just as the bird took flight, the arrow striking in a flurry of feathers. It was dead before it hit the ground. The blond Duke walked over to his cousin first, though, to make sure he was alright. Luke's cough had subsided, and he was catching his breath.
"I think I ought…to go back," he said between breaths, before Bo could speak. He stood up straighter and cleared his throat. "How big's that turkey? I'll take it with me."
Bo looked his cousin up and down first, noting the sweat on his brow on the cool November morning. Then he turned a few paces to retrieve the bird. It was smallish for a turkey, only maybe ten-twelve pounds. Taking out his knife, Bo cut the bird's throat to let it bleed out onto the dirt.
"It's not huge, but it'll make a good dinner. You sure you don't want me to go back with you?"
Luke shook his head, pulling a trailing vine off a nearby tree to tie the bird's feet together. "No, I'll be alright. I'll take it slow," he promised. "We're gonna need more than this to feed the family until Uncle Jesse's check comes in." He looped his bow across his shoulder and chest and took the bird from Bo, quickly tying the feet and making a smart handle to carry it by. Then he looked up, ready to go.
"Take care, Luke. I'll be back this afternoon."
The boys set off in opposite directions, Luke for home, and Bo for more game.
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Back in town, Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane was just coming in for duty an hour late. Deputy Enos Strate was already there, talking with a couple of gentlemen in black suits.
"Mornin', Sheriff. This here's a couple of fellas from the FBI, waitin' to speak to you," Enos explained brightly.
Rosco jumped, startled at the greeting, spilling hot coffee all over his hands. "Iji-oo-gi-Enos!" he stuttered, torn between the burns on his hands and the suits in front of him. "Escort these men into my office, before they…they…just get them in there!" he finished, searching his pockets for a handkerchief. Finding one, he went to wipe off the hand holding the coffee cup, only to drop the kerchief in the cup, and then drop the cup too. Stammering with indignation, he looked at Enos, who was coming back out of his office. "And clean that up, too!"
"Yes sir, Sheriff!" Enos replied. Rosco didn't hear him as he stalked into his office, wiping his hands on his uniform pants before he noticed they were his uniform pants. When he did notice, it was too late to make a fuss, because he was standing in front of three FBI agents.
"Now, ah, what can I do for you fellers?" Rosco asked, hoping the answer didn't involve himself being arrested. He sat down behind his desk, trying to look casual. Two of the agents stayed standing, while the third sat. The phone in the main office rang loudly.
"Sheriff Coltrane, we're on the trail of two young women, car thieves, believed to be moving through the state, hijacking…" The agent paused as the phone rang again, and again.
"Enos, would you get that!" Rosco shouted, sitting back with a smile to the agents. The ringing stopped.
"…Hijacking cars and selling them off at a profit as they go. We believe they passed through or near Hazzard County in the last few days, and we are hoping for your cooperation in locating any information on their whereabouts."
Rosco shook his head, trying to think of some angle that might get him a reward when he didn't have any information. "I'm sorry," he finally said reluctantly, "I can't think of any…"
"Sheriff!" Enos burst into the office, then looked apologetically at the FBI agents. "Sorry, fellas. Sheriff!" he repeated again.
"What, Enos? Can't you see I'm in an important meeting?"
"That was Mr. Langsford on the phone, down by Knockabout Creek? He says he found the General Lee in the creek this mornin' on his way into town, with bodies inside! He swam out to see if it was Bo an' Luke Duke, but instead he found these two women, shot dead!"
The seated agent stood up, very interested. "The General Lee?"
"Ah, that's the Duke boys' car," Rosco explained.
"I see. Deputy, did Mr. Langsford give a description of the women?"
"Oh, yes sir. He said one was blond, and the other had black hair, and they was young. I called Cooter to head over there and pull the General out of the creek."
"Why that sounds like our girls. Dead, eh? Do you know these Dukes?" he turned and asked Rosco.
"As a matter, as a matter of fact, I do!" Rosco chortled gleefully, then stifled the laughter. "Why just last night they called here trying to tell me their car was stolen! I knew they was just tryin' to cover somethin' up…trouble, those Dukes, nothing but trouble to a good honest law enforcement officer like myself."
"But Sheriff, Bo an' Luke wouldn't never kill nobody," Enos interrupted gently.
"Enos, you hush! You wouldn't know a felony from a traffic ticket!"
"I believe we'll accompany you down to the creek," the agent in charge said, standing up. "And then maybe we'll pay a visit to these Dukes. My name is Agent Brown, by the way, Derek Brown."
Rosco shook his hand, delighted to think how Boss Hogg was going to love this news. This would put the Duke boys away for life!
Uh-oh. Looks like the hunters are about to become the hunted.
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When Jesse saw Luke coming down through the fields, he looked for Bo behind him, and frowned when he realized Luke was alone. He carried his bow and what looked like a turkey, and was in no hurry. He was walking with a slow shuffle that was uncharacteristic of the boy, favoring his right leg. Leaving the bucket of chicken feed hanging on the fencepost, Jesse walked over to meet his eldest nephew.
"Somethin' wrong, Luke?" Jesse asked as he approached.
"No, Uncle Jesse. I'm just not feelin' very well, so Bo went on alone. We - he - got this turkey for dinner, at least." Luke looked pale and tired.
"Here, let me take that," Jesse reached for the bird Luke handed to him. "You go on inside and rest." Jesse's words were both permission and an order.
Luke nodded agreement and headed for the back door, leaving his boots and bow by the door. He coughed as he pulled off his sweaty shirt and dusty jeans in his bedroom, glad at least that his nose wasn't running like a sieve, though he ached all over. Then he crawled back under the blankets and soon fell asleep. Done feeding the chickens, Jesse came in a short while later to check on him. When he saw Luke was shivering in his sleep, Jesse pulled an extra blanket off Bo's bed and tucked it over his nephew. He also shut the window, which was letting in a cool breeze.
"Thanks, Uncle Jesse," Luke murmured. Jesse smiled and quietly shut the door behind him.
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It was early afternoon when Bo was working his way back towards the farm. The going was slow, and he cursed himself for his idiocy.
"Just had to take the shot, didn't you Bo?" he grumbled as he staggered along under the weight. "Beautiful shot, a five-point buck, had to! Never mind the rabbits and the pheasant already on the string. Stupid, Bo, stupid."
Now he was stuck carrying a 200-pound deer carcass, three rabbits, and two pheasants three miles back to the Duke farm, because Uncle Jesse couldn't abide waste, and Bo wasn't about to let some coyote get his kills. He'd gutted the deer on the spot, eliminating the weight of the internal organs, but that didn't make him feel much better as he bent his back and shouldered the load. It had been a beautiful shot - he'd been hidden in the brush, aiming for another rabbit, when the buck majestically strolled directly into his sights. It was as clean a kill as he'd ever made, and it wasn't until afterwards that he realized just how far he was from the farm. It didn't improve his mood to realize the bloodstains that would get all over his clothes, which Daisy would likely switch him for.
He came the long way around - or, at least, it was the short way from where he'd been, but the long way from the way he'd come, if that makes sense to any of you non-country folk. He ended up on the game trail going through the woods west of the farm, and kept to it, figuring it would be easier going that stumbling through the loose soil of the fields. When he had passed the farmed fields and came up even with the farmhouse, he adjusted his kills on his shoulder for the bushwhack through the underbrush to the open field of the farm.
"Bo!"
Bo jumped and dropped the deer with a heavy thud!, looking around. He could have sworn…
"Luke?"
"Get down!" A hand grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him down into the underbrush.
"What's goin' on, Luke?..!" Bo looked at his cousin, who was pointing to the farm. Both lay on their bellies among the shrubs.
"I'm not exactly sure, but it's not good. I woke up when someone knocked on the front door. Uncle Jesse answered it, and whoever it was, was asking for us. Something must be off, 'cause Jesse said neither of us was here. I slipped out the back door and hid. Those guys went inside - I think they wanted to search the house for us - those must be their cars out front."
Bo searched the scene, spotting the two grey sedans sitting out front and the open kitchen door. He heard Uncle Jesse's voice rise inside, in an angry tone he knew too well. The screen door flew open and two men in suits were shoved out backwards, trying to hold onto Jesse Duke as he fought back.
"This ain't legal! I know my rights!" he shouted in response to something said much quieter by the suits as they manhandled him out the door. "Entrapment, that's what this is!"
"Uncle Jesse!" Bo whispered, and before Luke could stop him, he was up and gone, bolting for the scene on the front porch.
"Bo! Dang it!" Luke stood, still hidden by the trees, but he didn't follow. He couldn't run on his leg, and he'd be more of a hindrance than a help. A rumbling engine caught his ear, and he turned to see another vehicle coming up the drive, this one driven by two men wearing Stetson hats and carrying a trio of bloodhounds in the back. Hell, leg or not, Bo and Uncle Jesse needed his help.
Bo charged for the struggle on the porch, barreling into the two suits who were manhandling his uncle. "Run, Uncle Jesse!" All three crashed to the ground in a heap. A third suit emerged from the house, bringing a gun to bear, but Jesse whacked his outstretched arms and knocked the gun away. He reached down and pulled Bo to his feet, looking up to see the arrival of the pickup.
"Bo! Uncle Jesse! This way!" Luke shouted, and his family members swiftly obeyed. Bo ran half a step behind his uncle to ensure his escape. The dogs barked excitedly as they leapt down from the truck bed and the cowboys released the three from the long leashes that held them. Bo crashed through the underbrush to the deer trail and took both bows from Luke, who held the string of small game. The deer carcass was left unnoticed.
"Go! Go!" Luke urged. Jesse was already running ahead, knowing he was probably the slowest of the three.
"You first," Bo said, and Luke didn't take the time to argue with him. They both ran. Bo kept a close watch over his shoulder for the dogs. It didn't occur to him to wonder just yet what on earth was going on - they were running, someone else was pursuing, and that was enough for now.
From the sound of the hound's belling calls, they were hot on the trail following the deer-path. Luke and Jesse were just ahead, feet pounding, and Luke didn't stop to think of how he was managing a full-out run on his leg. Necessity being the mother of a great many things, he ran on just the same. After a few minutes, though, a coughing fit choked him and he had to stop for air. Jesse pulled up as his nephew did, and Bo came up behind them.
"We can't outrun dogs! Uncle Jesse, what is this?" Bo asked, chest heaving.
"That's the FBI," Jesse said quickly, "and they want you boys for murder!"
"MURDER?" Bo exclaimed.
"We've got to split up," Luke gasped, hands on his knees.
"No!" Bo and Jesse said at the same time.
"They'll catch us if we stay together, and we don't have time! Bo, you can get away, go for help!"
Bo thought for half a second, the belling hounds coming closer. "Alright, we'll split up then." Jesse looked at him, incredulous. The Dukes stuck together! "Uncle Jesse, you and Luke head straight for the creek. They'll lose your scent there. I'll lead them off north into the hills." He took the string of small game from Luke, and handed him his bow. "Meet me at…at…" Bo tried to think of a place they could regroup and take shelter for the night, where no one would think of looking. "…At Bentley's Caves," he said finally.
Luke looked at him for a moment and understood his plan. Several hundred yards down the trail, the lead dog called out as it sighted the trio.
"Go!" Bo shouted, with a shove in the right direction.
Luke pulled his uncle, urging him on, and they broke into a run, disappearing into the forest. Bo stood openly on the trail, watching the dogs coming closer and his family leave out of the corner of his eye. When he judged one close enough and the other far enough away, he took off like a jackrabbit up the trail. Sure enough, with their prey in sight, the hounds left off trailing by scent and gave chase, ignoring the two escaping figures headed into the forest.
Now, you'd be surprised just how fast a country boy can run when he sees a set of teeth that close to his behind. Still, I'm thinkin' ol' Bo had better have a few tricks up his sleeve, if he's gonna outfox those hounds. Y'all stick around, now.