Wild boars and bears, but no tigers

I'm not sure what to make of the photograph of the huge animal described as a wild boar in the weekly newspaper from my favorite hometown in the Ozarks west of here.

It's not that I don't think there are some strange critters in the hills and dales around Killough Valley where I grew up. It's just that the huge hog felled by a hunter didn't have some of the customary features of a wild boar.

Wild boars that might show up in Missouri are likely from Arkansas. There's considerable evidence that these pesky and ferocious swine are increasing their territory. And since a whole lot of southern Missouri looks a whole lot like most of northern Arkansas, you could excuse a wild animal if it gets a mite confused about state borders.

No, there was something else about the animal in the photograph. For one thing, the beast just about filled the bed of a pickup. The caption under the photo said the animal measured more than 9 feet long and weighed 800 pounds. Or was that 8 feet long and 900 pounds? Something like that.

Whatever, that's a giant pig.

All pigs in this country are the descendants of animals brought here by our European ancestors. Wild boars and the hogs raised in feedlots no doubt share a common ancestry, but they are different animals.

The animal portrayed as a wild boar in the newspaper photo looked like it could be kin to a barnyard sow more than a scrawny razorback.

But I have no doubt the swine in question was of the pork family -- and wild.

Once upon a time in those hills, livestock roamed at will, thanks to open-range laws. Those were the days when a lot of folks burned off the woods every spring so grass would grow for cattle, hogs and horses to eat. The animals would be free to go wherever they wanted. Some farmers would keep an eye on their respective herds. Others wouldn't.

By and large these free-roaming animals, if not wild, were testy, to say the least. When it came time to round them up in the fall, they could prove to be headstrong enough to avoid the domestic lifestyle of a penned lot.

Today there are descendants of these animals all over the place. The wooded hills along the Current and Jack's Fork rivers over yonder are rutted with trails made by wild horses -- animals whose great--great-grandparents once have pulled a plow or buggy.

I've seen what livestock -- particularly cattle -- can do when they're wandering around. They can break through the strongest fences in the land to get into a pasture. Hogs can root up almost any barrier that stands between them and a lush vegetable garden.

Then there are all those truly wild animals, the ones that were here long before early settlers began clearing fields and building permanent dwellings.

I've seen my share of those critters. And heard them too.

Nothing will make your heart jump into your throat quicker than a screech own at night.

One night in the 1950s as my mother and I were returning to the farm from town, we saw a black panther cross the highway. No one believed us. They said it was probably a dog or maybe even an Angus calf gone astray.

I never saw a black bear when I was growing up, even though I had a relative who lived on a farm in the next valley over who had -- and who pursued it for years. Nowadays reports of black bears are fairly common occurrences in those parts.

Probably the most elusive -- and good-looking -- four-legged wild animal I've ever seen in Missouri is a bobcat. But the most beautiful wild thing my eyes have ever beheld was a bird, a painted bunting, and I didn't have to go into the back woods to see it. This multicolored visitor graced the bird feeder in our very own back yard a few years ago.

Unfortunately, I don't have a picture to put in the paper.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.