My dad and I were hunting the Yalobusha National Forest in Mississippi and had gotten out to this spot well before sun up. We quickly established our game plan and he took off over a ridge to find a good spot and I took the other side. This was the first time we'd hunted this spot, but it was really beautiful and looked promising. Well, we hadn't been out very long, maybe an hour after daylight, and I heard him owl hoot. I hooted back and we met at the truck. I asked him what was wrong and he told me to get in, we were leaving. I asked him if he didn't like the spot and he said yes and no. I asked if he'd seen anything. He said yeah, but it wasn't what he was hunting. Well, as we drove, I kept asking questions and he finally told me what was up. He said as he made his way through the woods, he kept stepping in some depressions in the ground. He said he didn't give it much thought on the first couple, thought it may have been stump holes or something. Anyway, he just found a tree to sit beside and wait for daylight. He said that after daylight came he was looking around and his thoughts turned back to the depressions he'd stepped in. He found them and realized that he was sitting in the middle of an old graveyard from the 1700's. He said at that point the hunt was pretty much over for him and he got to reading some of the head stones and found that most of them had died from yellow fever, but the straw that broke the camels back, was when he found one of a child. He knew right then that it was time to get gone. We never did hunt that area again.[]