The Deerslayers

In the piney woods of East Texas, deer hunting is a way of life. The natives, hard, stern men, pursue deer after their own local, brutal fashion, behind powerful, lop-eared hounds. "Five, ten miles ain't no area for a big deer to carry the dogs," drawls R. C. Pace, former sheriff of Jasper County. "Once I had one run twelve hours. You can go a long way in twelve hours."

The deerslaying goes on all year long, without regard to game wardens, rules or seasons, bucks or does. "We get in fights," says a native, "get drunk, and go hunting. Nobody's going to stop us from doing any one." The deer hounds are a source of endless controversy between hunters and local cattlemen. "It's a commonplace," says Dr. Joe Dickerson. "Get more fights over dogs than women."

Bullets & Buckshot. One of the bitterest enemies of the hunters and their dogs is the Garlington family, a tough, aloof clan of ranchers who have prospered as breeders of Brahman cattle. Citizens with missing hounds look for them around the Garlingtons' 3,000-acre ranch; usually, they are shown the gate at gunpoint. "If you was to dig up their land," says a local woman, "you'd find dog bones every five feet."

On Christmas day, when six back-country hunters lost a dog, they piled angrily into two pickup trucks and with ready guns roared down the clay road to the Garlington ranch. On a roadside, near their fence, two Garlington brothers were waiting. "You sons of bitches!" someone shouted, and the shooting began.

A bullet hit Dalphin Garlington in the shoulder and knocked him down. His brother Sterling was hit twice in the back, but fired back, wounding one hunter in the head and killing another. After about 30 shots, the hunters drove away with their casualties, leaving the two wounded brothers for dead. "It looked like a battleground," a deputy said later. "Bushes were shot away, trees were hit, and there was blood all over the road."

Quick & Dead. After the wounded and dead were brought into Jasper, the county seat (pop. 5,000, including eight millionaires), a curious crowd gathered in front of the hospital. Leola Garlington, sister of the wounded brothers, burst through the mob, screaming at Sheriff Martel Mixon: "You son of a bitch. It's all your fault! If you'd been doing your job, this would never have happened!"

Last week all the survivors were charged with assault to commit murder, but Sheriff Mixon held that Sterling Garlington, in critical condition with a collapsed lung and splintered spine, "had the right to kill in self-defense. The hunters were strictly the aggressors." The other Garlington and the wounded hunter were in a fair way to recover. At her family's isolated ranch house, Leola Garlington was bitter. "Those dogs come in, and they've killed all our goats and hogs and the little calves," she gritted. "We don't want dogs on our place. We run the place in our own way, and we don't want anybody bothering us."

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