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Faulkner's Arkansas Traveler Mystery Cache

This cache has been archived.

A_No1: Looks like the property is no longer AR Game Lands but is now under private ownership with a fence and a posted sign.... Sometimes you gotta put a good cache down. Thanks to all who solved the puzzle and found the cache.

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Hidden : 11/24/2012
Difficulty:
2 out of 5
Terrain:
2 out of 5

Size: Size:   small (small)

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Geocache Description:

The cache is not at the posted coords. Small container in Fletcher Bend Public Use Area, off of Faulkner Meadows Road.  And by "Public Use" consider wearing blaze orange during deer season. The neighboring farm is posted, no need to cross the fence. Not a hard cache once you put the puzzle together.

Sandford C. (Sandy) Faulkner is an iconic individual from Arkansas’s early statehood. Although he never held elective office, his political and economic activity made a significant contribution to the development of the young state. Moreover, Faulkner is largely responsible for the story of the Arkansas Traveler which has shaped the image of Arkansas since the 1840s.

Faulkner was a young lawyer who traveled the Arkansas Territory often between Little Rock and Cadron Settlement. On one such trip he became lost in the backwoods and swamps of then remote Pulaski County.  He came upon the hut of a settler and stopped to get directions and to seek lodging for the night. According to Faulkner’s frequent retelling of the event, the settler was at first surly and uncommunicative but became more welcoming when Faulkner proved able to complete the fiddle tune that the settler had been playing. Faulkner’s story of the “Arkansas Traveler” rapidly became part of the state’s folklore, leading to a famous painting and lithograph depicting the event, as well as to frequent performance of the tune, which Faulkner often played as part of his narrative. The story, with many variations, appears in countless collections of stories about Arkansas.  You've heard the tune if you've ever watched Looney Tunes -- it's the leitmotif for Foghorn Leghorn.

Faulkner County, formed April 12, 1873, was the sixty-ninth county created in Arkansas, one of the last counties formed in the state. Sparsely populated in its early years, it is now the sixth-most-populous county in the state.The county is located almost exactly in the geographical center of the state of Arkansas, and was created from portions of Conway and Pulaski counties.

The river valley lowlands were the first places inhabited in the the new Arkansas Territory. Try to imagine a ramshackle farmstead at this location.

Faulkner's story is one of the longest-lived comedy act of all time -- though now nearly forgotten -- The Arkansas Traveler opens with an Arkansawyer in bib overalls and straw hat sitting on a rickety chair and playing a fiddle. He represents a squatter trying to recapture a tune. He plays one bar of a melody over and over - in various keys and cadences: Finally, the rube stamps his foot in frustration and lets loose a string of colorful - but socially acceptable - epithets starting with "darnation?" At this moment, Faulkner as the traveler, comes on stage and engages the fiddler in conversation. The traveler is lost and seeking lodging for the night. However, the squatter is irritated by the interruption and answers abruptly - playing the first bar of the elusive tune after each sally. * Traveler - How do you do, friend. Squatter - Do pretty much as I please, sir. * T - Do you live about here? S -- I reckon I don't live any wheres else. * T -- Well, how long have you lived here? S -- See that big tree yonder? It was there when I came here. * T - Can I stay here tonight? S - Yes, you kin stay right thar in the road. * T - How far is it to the next tavern. S - It's so far you can't get thar from here. * T - Have you any spirits here? S - My cabin ain't haunted, but there's plenty of them in the grave yard. * T -- You mistake my meaning. I'm wet and cold and want some whiskey. Have you got any? S. Nope. I drunk the last this morning. * T - I'm hungry. Can't you give me something to eat? S - Hain't a durned thing in the house. Not a moufful uv meat nor a dust of meal. * T- Well, can't you give my horse something? S - I can give him a swift kick in the rump if you want. * T - How far is it to the next house? S - I don't know. I've never been thar. * T -- If I'm not too bold, what might your name be? S - It might be Tom, and it might be Dick, but it lacks right smart of either. * T - Where does this road go? S - It never goes any whar. It's always thar when I git up in the morning. * T -- Can I get across the creek down here? S - I reckon you can. The ducks cross there whenever they want. * T - As I'm not likely to get to any other house tonight, won't you let me sleep in yours? S - My house leaks. Thar's only one dry spot in it, and me and Sal sleeps on it. * T - Why don't you put some shingles on your roof? S - It's been rainin' all day. * T - Why don't you fix it in dry weather? S - It don't leak then. * T - What do you do for a living? S - Keep tavern and sell whiskey. * T - Well, I told you I wanted some whiskey. S - Stranger, I bought a bar'l of whiskey more'n a week ago. Me and Sal went shars. After we got it here, we only had a two-bit betweenst us. Sal didn't want to use hern fust, nor me mine. I had a spiggin in one end, and she in nother. So she take a drink out'n my end and pays me the bit fir it. Then I'd take a drink out'n hern and give her the bit. Well, we's making money hand over fist 'til our oldest boy born a hole in the bottom to suck at. Next time I went to buy a drink, we wuz out of business. * T - I'm sorry your whiskey is all gone; but, why don't you play the balance of that tune? S - It's got no balance to it. That's the trouble. I only know the beginnin. T - Well, I can play the rest of that tune. With this, the squatter stops playing and jumps from his chair. "Gee, stranger, can you play the rest of that tune? I've been down to New Orleans and I heard that at the theater. "I've been at work at it ever since I got back, trying to play the last part of it. "If you can play the rest of that tune, you can stay in this cabin for the rest of your natcheral life. "Take a half-dozen chairs and sot down. I don't care if it is a rainin'. You can have the dry spot. And I don't care if the beds is all full. We'll make a pallet on the floor and you can kiver with the door. "Hey, Sal, ole woman, fly round and get some corn dodgers and bacon for the gentleman. He knows how to play the last part of that dad-blame tune, don't you stranger? "Gol, don't go back on it now. If you say you don't there'll be some of the wildest sawin around here you ever seed!" The traveler replies, "Well, yes, I can play it; but there's no use your getting mad. I'll play it for you as soon's I get something to eat. The squatter then hollers through the door. "Stir your sticks, old woman, set the table, bring out the knives and forks." Sal hollers back, "You know we ain't got any forks, and there ain't knives to go 'round." The squatter replies, indignantly, "Like to know why there ain't. There's big butch and little butch, and short handle and corn-cob handle, and no handle atall. If that ain't knives nuff to eat at any gentleman's table I would like to know. "Come in stranger, and have someth'n; and then play that tune." The traveler sits down in the chair, takes the fiddle and plays the whole tune while the squatter jigs wildly.


Click quicker online interactive version. Should load quickly, then scroll down if necessary to see the jigsaw. If you need help just look at the border of the cache page. When you move a piece to where it would fit with another piece, the pieces will automatically join.

Additional Hints (No hints available.)