All day great fires had been kept going in long pits dug in the ground, hard, dry beech and maple being used for fuel. On the next morning, the last day of the hunt, half of a fatted ox or deer was placed over the coals of each pit on an iron rod or a green sapling, and slowly roasted, being carefully watched, seasoned, and basted with fat. When everything was ready, the meat was cut from the bones by skilful carvers, and the hungry crowd was served. There is no sauce like hunger, and no meat like that roasted over a bed of hardwood coals. After the feast, came the dancing. But between the barbecue and the time for the “Virginny Reel” and “Money Musk,” with the hoedowns, pigeon-wings, and other rural embellishments, the people had to be amused, and Davy was called on for a speech. What he thought and did in this crisis is best told in his own words: “A public document I had never seen, nor did I know there were such things; and how to begin I couldn’t tell. I made many apologies, and tried to get off, for I know’d I had to run against a man who could speak prime, and I know’d, too, that I wasn’t able to shuffle and cut with him. He was there, and, knowing my ignorance as well as I did myself, he also urged me to make a speech. The truth is, he thought my being a candidate was a mere matter of sport, and didn’t think for a moment that he was in any danger from an ignorant backwoods bear-hunter. I found I couldn’t get off, and so I determined just to go ahead, and leave it to chance what I should say. I got up and told the people I reckoned they knowed what I had come for, but if not, I could tell them. I had come for their votes, and if they didn’t watch mighty close I’d get them too. Then I tried to speak about something else (about government), until I choked up as bad as if my mouth had been jammed and crammed chock full of dry mush. There the people stood, listening all the while, with their eyes, mouths, and ears open, to catch every word I would speak. “At last I told them I was like a fellow I had heard of not long before; he was beating on the head of an empty barrel near the road-side, when a traveller, passing along, asked him what he was doing that for? The fellow replied that there had been some cider in that barrel a few days before, and he was trying to see if there was any then; he said if there was, he couldn’t get at it. I told them there had been a little bit of a speech in me a while before, but I believed I couldn’t get it out.” Having in this way set the crowd to roaring with laughter, Davy told them a few stories, then took the first chance to say that he was as dry as a powder-horn. A great cheer rose as he led the way to the stand where rum, apple and peach brandies, cider, and buttermilk were to be had.