I can't make out the word balloons of the bystanding bird and farmer, but the driver is declaring, "We're going huckleberrying!" A passenger notes the old farmer at the fence and observes, "I bet that fellow wishes he was goin' to."
At the rear of the wagon someone is singing, "Do, do, do, a huckleberry do!" And another, with rifle in hand, shouts, "I'm goin' to kill a bear!"
Man, I loved picking and eating huckleberries around here in the woods when I was growing up. The bushes were frequently found growing out of Old Growth stumps. And once in awhile I would run into a black bear after the same delicacy, so I would just let them be and move on. The huckleberries here are red and tart.
