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The hunter stared in terror up at Raw Head’s gleaming yellow eyes in the ugly razorback hogshead, his bloody bone skeleton with its long bear claws, sweeping raccoon’s tail and his gleaming sharp panther teeth.

“Land o’ Goshen, what have you got those big teeth fer?” he gasped desperately, stumbling backwards from the terrible figure before him.

“To eat you up, like you wanted to eat me!” Raw Head roared, descending upon the good-for-nothing hunter.

Nothing more was ever seen or heard of the lazy hunter who lived on the ridge. But sometimes folks would see Raw Head roaming through the forest in the company of his friend Old Betty. Well, then… what’s more to tell?
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Folkzine