a story to share

[Doug Farris <heirloom@moscow.com>]

Visionaries,
     A story to share.

    The Wild and Free Pigs Of the Okefenokee Swamp

     Some years ago, about 1900, an old trapper from North Dakota
hitched up some horses to his Studebaker wagon, packed a few possessions
-- especially his traps -- and drove south.
     Several weeks later he stopped in a small town just north of the
Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia. It was a Saturday morning -- a lazy day --
when he walked into the general store. Sitting around the pot-bellied
stove were seven or eight of the town's local citizens.
     The traveler spoke. "Gentlemen, could you direct me to the
Okefenokee Swamp?" Some of the oldtimers looked at him like he was
crazy. "You must be a stranger in these parts," they said. "I am. I'm
from North Dakota," said the stranger.
     "In the Okefenokee Swamp are thousands of wild hogs." one old man
explained. "A man who goes into the swamp by himself asks to die!" He
lifted up his leg. "I lost half my leg here, to the pigs of the swamp."
Another old fellow said, "Look at the cuts on me; look at my arm bit
off! Those pigs have been free since the Revolution, eating snakes and
rooting out roots and fending for themselves for over a hundred years.
They're wild and they're dangerous. You can't trap them. No man dare go
into the swamp by himself." Every man nodded his head in agreement.
     The old trapper said, "Thank you so much for the warning. Now could
you direct me to the swamp?" They said, "Well, yeah, it's due south --
straight down the road." But they begged the stranger not to go, because
they knew he'd meet a terrible fate. He said, "Sell me ten sacks of
corn, and help me load it in the wagon." And they did. Then the old
trapper bid them farewell and drove on down the road. The townsfolk
thought they'd never see him again.
     Two weeks later the man came back. He pulled up to the general
store, got down off the wagon, walked in and bought ten more sacks of
corn. After loading it up he went back down the road toward the swamp.
     Two weeks later he returned and again bought ten sacks of corn.
This went on for a month. And then two months, and three. Every week or
two the old trapper would come into town on a Saturday morning, load up
ten sacks of corn, and drive off south into the swamp.
     The stranger soon became a legend in the little village and the
subject of much speculation. People wondered what kind of devil had
possessed this man, that he could go into the Okefenokee by himself and
not be consumed by the wild and free hogs.
     One morning the man came into town as usual. Everyone thought he
wanted more corn. He got off the wagon and went into the store where the
usual group of men were gathered around the stove. He took off his
gloves.
    "Gentlemen," he said, "I need to hire about ten or fifteen wagons. I
need twenty or thirty men. I have six thousand hogs out in the swamp,
penned up, and they're all hungry. I've got to get them to market right
away."
     "You've WHAT in the swamp?" asked the storekeeper, incredulously.
"I have six thousand hogs penned up. They haven't eaten for two or three
days, and they'll starve if I don't get back there to feed and take care
of them."
     One of the oldtimers said, "You mean you've captured the wild hogs
of the Okefenokee?" "That's right." "How did you do that? What did you
do?" the men urged, breathlessly. One of them exclaimed, "But I lost my
arm!" "I lost my brother!" cried another. "I lost my leg to those wild
boars!" chimed a third.
     The trapper said, "Well, the first week I went in there they were
wild all right. They hid in the undergrowth and wouldn't come out. I
dared not get off the wagon. So I spread corn along behind the wagon.
Every day I'd spread a sack of corn. The old pigs would have nothing to
do with it."
     "But the younger pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn
than it was to root out roots and catch snakes. So the very young began
to eat the corn first. I did this every day. Pretty soon, even the old
pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn. After all, they were
all free; they were not penned up. They could run off in any direction
they wanted at any time."
     "The next thing was to get them used to eating in the same place
all the time. So I selected a clearing, and I started putting the corn
in the clearing. At first they wouldn't come to the clearing. It was too
far. It was too open. It was a nuisance to them."
     "But the very young decided that it was easier to take the corn in
the clearing than it was to root out roots and catch their own snakes.
And not long thereafter, the older pigs also decided that it was easier
to come to the clearing every day."
     "And so the pigs learned to come to the clearing every day to get
their free corn. They could still subsidize their diet with roots and
snakes and whatever else they wanted. After all, they were all free.
They could run in any direction at any time. There were no bounds upon
them."
     "The next step was to get them used to fence posts. So I put fence
posts all the way around the clearing. I put them in the underbrush so
that they wouldn't get suspicious or upset. After all, they were just
sticks sticking up out of the ground, like the trees and the brush. The
corn was there every day. It was easy to walk in between the posts, get
the corn, and walk back out."
     "This went on for a week or two. Shortly they became very used to
walking into the clearing, getting the free corn, and walking back out
through the fence posts."
     "The next step was to put one rail down at the bottom. I also left
a few openings, so that the older, fatter pigs could walk through the
openings and the younger pigs could easily jump over just one rail.
After all, it was no real threat to their freedom or independence. They
could always jump over the rail and flee in any direction at any time."
     "Now I decided that I wouldn't feed them every day. I began to feed
them every other day. On the days I didn't feed them the pigs still
gathered in the clearing. They squealed, and they grunted, and they
begged and pleaded with me to feed them. But I only fed them every other
day. And I put a second rail around the posts."
     "Now the pigs became more and more desperate for food. Because now
they were no longer used to going out and digging their own roots and
finding their own food. They now needed me. They needed my corn every
other day. So I trained them that I would feed them every day if they
came in through a gate. And I put up a third rail around the fence. But
it was still no great threat to their freedom, because there were
several gates and they could run in and out at will."
     "Finally I put up the fourth rail. Then I closed all the gates but
one, and I fed them very, very well. Yesterday I closed the last gate.
And today I need you to help me take these pigs to market."

    The allegory of the pigs has a serious moral lesson. This story is
about "free" tax money being used to bait, trap and enslave a once free
and independent people.
     Federal, state, and local welfare, school vouchers and public
incentives, such as business parks and free education in its myriad
forms, has reduced not only individuals to a state of dependency. State
and local governments are also on the fast track to elimination, due to
their functions being subverted by the command and control structures of
federal "revenue sharing" programs.

just my 1864 2 cents worth
lemeno Doug!