f to the operations of the little moonshiner,
because they illustrate the surprising shiftiness of our backwoodsmen.
Every man in the big woods is a jack-of-all-trades. His skill in
extemporizing utensils, and even crude machines, out of the trees that
grow around him, is of no mean order. As good cider as ever I drank was
made in a hollowed log fitted with a press-block and operated by a
handspike. It took but half a day's work to make this cider press, and
the only tools used in its construction were an ax, a mattock in lieu of
adze, an auger, and a jackknife.

It takes two or three men to run a still. It is possible for one man to
do the work, on so small a scale as is usually practiced, but it would
be a hard task for him; then, too, there are few mountaineers who could
individually furnish the capital, small though it be. So three men, let
us say, will "chip in" five or ten dollars apiece, and purchase a
second-hand still, if such is procurable, otherwise a new one, and that
is all the apparatus they have to pay money for. If they should be too
poor even to go to this expense, they will make a retort by inverting a
half-barrel or an old wooden churn over a soap-kettle, and then all they
have to buy is a piece of copper tubing for the worm.

[Illustration: Moonshine Still in Full Operation]

In choosing a location for their clandestine work, the first
essential is running water. This can be found in almost any gulch; yet,
out of a hundred known spring-branches, only one or two may be suitable
for the business, most of them being too public. In a country where
cattle and hogs run wild, and where a good part of every farmer's time
is taken in keeping track of his stock, there is no place so secret but
that it is liable to be visited at any time, even though it be in the
depths of the great forest, several miles from any human habitation.
Moreover, cattle, and especially hogs, are passionately fond of
still-slop, and can scent it a great distance, so that no still can long
remain unknown to them.[6] Consequently the still must be placed several
miles away from the residence of anyone who might be liable to turn
informer. Although nearly all the mountain people are indulgent in the
matter of blockading, yet personal rivalries and family jealousies are
rife among them, and it is not uncommon for them to inform against
their enemies in the neighborhood.

Of course, it would not do to set up a still near a common tr