I don’t like to hunt with a hungry man,” Dungee Taylor says. He’s a bull-sized fellow, bald, with one foot in the briers and a grin on his face, but I can read between the lines. His comment is both a ...

THREE RIVERS AREA — Standing ankle deep in the blackwater bayou, I watch the swamp rabbit. I can hear, in the distance, two beagles hot on its track, but this bottomland creature seems unconcerned.