Roots_ The Saga of an American Family - Alex Haley [270]
Uncle Mingo knew well that the name of Tom Lea, throughout the length and breadth of Caswell County, symbolized the rise of a poor white man to eminence and a major gamecocker who started out as a hackfighter with one good bird. Many a time he had told Uncle Mingo how fondly he looked back upon those early, hungry days, declaring that their excitements were at least the equal of those he had enjoyed in all of the major “mains” he had competed in ever since. The only significant differences, Massa Lea said, were that the big “main” fights involved a better class of people as well as of gamecocks, and much higher amounts of money were wagered; one might see really rich gamecockers winning—and losing—fortunes in the course of a single fight. Hackfights were for those who were able to fight only one or two or three usually second- or third-rate birds—the poor whites, free blacks, or slaves whose pocketbooks could afford bets ranging from twenty-five cents to a dollar, with as much as perhaps twenty dollars being bet only when some hackfighter went out of his head and put on the line everything he had in the world.
“What makes you think he can handle birds in a cockpit?” asked Massa Lea.
Uncle Mingo was relieved to hear no objections to his proposal. “Well, suh, close as you know dat boy watch fights, reckon he ain’t missed a move you made in de cockpits for five, six years, Massa. An’ put dat togedder wid jes’ how na’chel born he is wid roosters, I sho’ b’lieves he’d need no mo’n a little teachin’. Even fights he’d lose be jes’ cull birds we has roun’ here dat you don’t never hardly use nohow, suh.”
“Uh-huh,” the massa murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t see nothin’ wrong with it. Why don’t you buff the spurs of some culls and help him practice fights across the summer? If he looks any good by next season, yeah, I’ll stake him a little for some bets.”
“Sho will, yassuh!” Uncle Mingo was exultant, since for months now in the gamefowl area’s woodsy privacy, he and George had been mock-fighting culled birds, their spurs harmlessly covered with a light leather pouch Uncle Mingo had devised. Being the cautious man he was, the old man hadn’t ventured his suggestion to the massa without first ascertaining for himself that his able apprentice showed genuine potential to develop into a really good fight handler. With enough hackfighting experience, he thought privately that George might someday become as expert as Massa Lea at handling birds at a cockpit. As Uncle Mingo had said, even the culls from a flock as good as the massa’s were superior to the ones usually pitted in the many hackfights that were staged each season in various impromptu and informal settings around the county. All in all, it seemed to Uncle Mingo that there was practically no way George would miss.
“Well, boy, you jes’ gwine stand dere wid yo’ mouth open?” asked Uncle Mingo when he broke the news that afternoon.
“Don’t know what to say.”
“Never thought I’d live to see de day when you ain’t got nothin’ to say.”
“I ... jes’ don’ know how to thank you.”
“Wid all dem teeth showin’, you don’ need to. Le’s get to work.”
Every day that summer, he and Uncle Mingo spent at least an hour in the late afternoons squatting on opposite sides of a make-shift cockpit, smaller in diameter and shallower than the regular size, but still sufficient for training. After several weeks, the massa came down to observe one of the sessions. Impressed with the pit-side agility and keen reflexes George showed in handling his bird, he gave him a few cockfight pointers of his own.
“You want your bird to get the jump. Now watch me—” Taking over Mingo’s bird, he said, “Okay, your referee’s already hollered ‘Get ready!’ You’re down here holding your bird—but don’t watch it! Keep your eyes on that referee’s lips! You want to tell the split second he’s going to say ‘Pit!’ It ’s when his lips press together tight—” Massa Lea compressed his own lips. “Right then snatch up your hands—you’ll hear ‘Pit ’ just as your bird gets out there first!