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%silly%

11/12/2025

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%silly%

11/12/2025

Where the red fern grows chapter 11

OK Chapter 13 Where the Red Fern Grows

COMING UP TO THE TREE, I COULD SEE IT WAS A HUGE BUR oak. It wasn’t tall. It was just the opposite, rather low and squatty. The top was a thick mass of large limbs, and it hadn’t shed all of its leaves yet. It stood by itself in an old field. There were no other trees within fifty yards of it. About fifteen feet to the left were the remains of a barbed-wire fence. An old gate hung by one rusty hinge from a large corner post. I could tell that at one time a house had stood close by. Rubin saw me looking around. “A long time ago some Indians lived here and farmed these fields,” he said.

I walked around the tree looking for the coon, but could see very little in the dark shadows. “Ain’t no use to look,” Rubin said. “He won’t be there.” Rainie spoke up. “This ain’t the first time we’ve been to this tree,” he said. Rubin told Rainie to shut up. “You talk too much,” he said. In a whining voice, Rainie said, “Rubin, you know the coon ain’t in that tree. Make him pay off and let’s go home. I’m getting tired.” I told Rubin I was going to climb the tree. “Go ahead,” he said. “It won’t do you any good.” The tree was easy to climb. I looked all over it, on each limb, and in every dark place.

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