or SS % AS co ENN SS — . i, i ) a S NN aS oy s DASE oa Or urnu as Persea ss MA aes ay a We OREN oa AS Siery Rekirares ) es p fig Rosas er Ney oo | Haye Seas stthhe ' Aralltaiahe Dibrar fA ee en Compa toner, Pei nm til ALBERT R. MANN LIBRARY AT CORNELL UNIVERSITY THE GIFT OF Waldemar Fries Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022564912 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF AUDUBON. LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMLORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. Cornell University Library QL 31.A9A2 (664 3 1924 022 564 912 JOHN J. AUDUBON. London: Sampson Low, Son, and Marston. Tauente Fill THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, EDITED, FROM MATERIALS SUPPLIED BY HIS WIDOW, BY ROBERT BUCHANAN. THIRD EDITION. AUDUBON AT GREEN Bank, LiverProoL, (From a drawing by himself.) Sept. 1826. LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, SON, & MARSTON, CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 1869. (the Riyht of Translation is reserved.] EDITOR’S PREFACE. In the autumn of 1867, the present publishers placed in my hands a large manuscript called the “Life of Audubon,” pre- pared by a friend of Mrs. Audubon’s, in New York, chiefly con- sisting of extracts from the diary of the great American naturalist. It needed careful revision, and was, moreover, inordinately long. While I cannot fail expressing my admira- tion for the affectionate spirit and intelligent sympathy with which the friendly editor discharged his task, I am bound to say that his literary experience was limited. My business, therefore, has been sub-editorial rather than editorial. I have had to cut down what was prolix and unnecessary, and to connect the whole in some sort of a running narrative,—and the result is a volume equal in bulk to about one-fifth of the original manuscript. I believe I have omitted nothing of real interest, but I am of course not responsible in any way for the fidelity of what is given. The episodes, wherever they occur, T have given pretty much in full, as being not only much better vi EDITOR’S PREFACE. composed than the diary, but fuller of those associations on which Audubon rests his fame. In a letter recently received from Mrs. Audubon, and written after looking over a few of the first sheets, I am called to account for some remarks of my own. It is the excellent lady’s belief that because I am “a Scotchman,” I underrate her husband and overrate Wilson. Iam credited with an “inimical feeling towards Mr. Audubon, whose sentiments of gratitude and his expressions of them are beautiful towards all his friends ;” and while quite agreeing in that opinion, I cannot help retaining my doubt whether the publication of these “ expressions” would gratify the public. Then, again, I have called Audubon vain, and perhaps a little selfish, and I can perfectly understand how hard these words may seem to the gentle heart of a loving wife. Yet they are nevertheless true, and are quite consistent with the fact that I admire Audubon hugely, think him a grand and large-hearted man, and have the greatest possible desire to see him understood by the public. But in order to get him understood one must put aside all domestic partiality. Call Audubon vain, call him in some things selfish, call him flighty, and inconsequential in his worldly conduct,—all these qualities are palpable in every page of the diary. He was handsome, and ne knew it; he was elegant, and he prided himself upon it. He was generous in most things, but he did not love his rivals. He prattled about himself like an infant, gloried in his long hair, admired the fine curve of his nose, thought “blood” a great thing, and reverenced the great. Well, happy is the man who has no greater errors than these. Audubon was a man of genius, with the courage of a lion and the simplicity of a child. One scarcely knows which to admire most—the mighty determination which enabled him to carry EDITOR’S PREFACE. vii out his great work in the face of difficulties so huge, or the gentle and guileless sweetness with which he throughout shared his thoughts and aspirations with his wife and children. He was more like a child at the mother’s knee, than a husband at the hearth—so free was the prattle, so thorough the confidence. Mrs. Audubon appears to have been a wife in every respect worthy of such a man; willing to sacrifice her personal comfort at any moment for the furtherance of his great schemes; ever ready with kiss arid counsel when such were most needed ; never failing for a moment in her faith that Audubon was destined to be one of the great workers of the earth. The man’s heart, was restless ; otherwise he would never have achieved so much. He must wander, he must vagabondize, he must acquire; he was never quite easy at the hearth. His love for nature was passionate indeed, pursuing him in all regions, burning in him to the last. Among the most touching things in the diary, are the brief exclamations of joy when something in the strange city—a flock of wild ducks overhead in London, a gathering of pigeons on the trees of Paris—reminds him of the wild life of wood and plain. He was boy-like to the last, glorying most when out of doors. His very vanity and selfish- ness, such as they were, were innocent and boyish—they were without malice, and savoured more of pique than gall. Of the work Audubon has done, nothing need be said in praise here. Even were I competent to discuss his merits as an ornithologist and ornithological painter, I should be silent, for the world has already settled those merits in full. I may trust myself, however, to say one word in praise of Audubon as a descriptive writer. Some of his reminiscences of adventure, some of which are published in this book, seem to me to be quite as good, in vividness of presentment and careful colouring, as anything I have ever read. viii EDITOR’S PREFACE. With these few words of explanation and preface, I may safely leave this volume to the public. The initiated will find much quite novel matter, and general readers will discover plenty of amusing incidents and exciting adventures. R. B. London, October 1st, 1868. The portrait on the title-page is taken from a pen-and-ink drawing kindly lent by Wm. Reynolds, Esq., of Liverpool. The sketch was made by Audubon himself whilst residing in the house of Mr. Rathbone, shortly after his first arrival in England in 1826. It bears the inscription, ‘Almost happy !” THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF AUDUBON. —eoe— CHAPTER I. InrropucTion—TuHE AuDUBON GENEALOGY.* THE name of Audubon is of French origin; it is extremely rare, and while confined in America to the family of the naturalist, has in France been traced only among his ancestry. Audubon has told us all that he knew of his relations. He writes: “John Audubon my grandfather was born at the small village of Sable d’Olonne, in La Vendée, with a small harbour, forty- five miles south from Nantes. He was a poor fisherman with a numerous family, twenty-one of whom grew to maturity. There was but one boy besides my father, he being the twentieth born, and the only one of the numerous family who lived to a con- siderable age. In subsequent years, when I visited Sable d’Olonne, the old, inhabitants told me that they had seen the whole of this family, including both parents, at church several times on Sunday.” The father of the naturalist appears to have caught at an early age the restless spirit of his times, and his father, who saw in it the only hope the youth had of obtaining distinction, encouraged his love of adventure. He himself says of his start in life: “When I was twelve years of age my father provided * The first five or six chapters are merely the preliminary to the series of episodes which follow, and are marked by none of the restless motion and bright colour of the naturalist’s life. Still, they will be acceptable to those whem Audubon interests personally.—R. B. D 2 LIFE OF AUDUBON. me with a shirt, a dress of warm clothing, his blessing, and a cane, and sent me out to seek my fortune.” The youth went to Nantes, and falling in with the captain of a vessel bound on a fishing voyage to the coast of America, he shipped on board as a boy before the mast. He continued at sea, and by the age of seventeen was rated as an able-bodied seaman. At twenty-one he commanded a vessel, and at twenty- five he was owner and captain of a small craft. Purchasing other vessels, the enterprising adventurer sailed with his little fleet to the West Indies. He reached St. Domingo, and there fortune dawned upon him. After a few more voyages he purchased a small estate. The prosperity of St. Domingo, already French, so influenced the mariner’s fortunes, that in ten years he realised a considerable fortune. Obtaining an appointment from the governor of St. Domingo, he returned to France, and in his official capacity became intimate with influential men connected with the government of the First Empire. ‘Through their good offices he obtained an appoint- ment in the Imperial navy and the command of a small vessel of war. A warm sympathy with the changes wrought by the revolution, and an idolatrous worship of Napoleon, must have contributed greatly to his success. While resident in France he purchased a beautiful estate on the Loire, nine miles from Nantes;—there, after a life of re- markable vicissitude, the old sailor died, in 1818, at the great age of ninety-five, regretted, as he deserved to be, on account of his simplicity of manners and perfect sense of honesty. Our Audubon has described his father as a man of good proportions, measuring five feet ten inches in height, having a hardy constitution and the agility of a wild cat. His manners, it is asserted, were most polished, and his natural gifts improved by self-education. He had a warm and even violent temper, described as rising at times into “the blast of a hurricane,” but readily appeased. While residing in the West Indies, he frequently visited North America, and with some fore- sight made purchases of land im the French colony of Louisiana, in Virginia, and Pennsylvania. In one of his American visits he met and married in Louisiana a lady of Spanish extraction, PURCHASE OF MILL GROVE. 3 whose beauty and wealth may have made her equally attractive. A family of three sons and one daughter blessed this union, and the subject of this biographical sketch was the youngest of the sons. Soon after his birth Madame Audubon accompanied her husband to the estate of Aux Cayes in the island of St. Domingo, and there miserably perished during the memorable rising of the negro population. The black revolt so endangered the property of the foreigners resident in St. Domingo, that the plate and money belonging to the Audubon family had to be carried away to New Orleans by the more faithful of their servants. Returning to France with his family, the elder Audubon again married, left his young son, the future naturalist, under charge of his ‘second wife, and re- turned to the United States, in the employment of the French government, as an officer in the Imperial navy. While there he became attached to the army under Lafayette. Moving hither and thither under various changes, he seldom or never communi- cated with his boy ; but meanwhile the property which remained to him in St. Domingo was greatly augmenting in value. During a visit paid to Pennsylvania, the restless Frenchman purchased the farm of Mill Grove on the Perkiominy Creek; near the Schuylkil Falls. Finally, after a life of restless adventure, he returned: to France and filled a post in the Marine; and after spending some portion of his years at Rochefort, retired to his estate on the Loire. This estate was left by Commodore Audubon to his son John James, who conveyed it to his sister without even visiting the domain he so generously willed away. 4 LIFE OF AUDUBON, CHAPTER II. Tue Naturatist’s CarrpHoop—His First Vistt To AMERICA. THE naturalist was born in Louisiana, and his earliest recollec- tions are associated with lying among the flowers of that fertile land, sheltered by the orange trees, and watching the move- ments of the mocking-bird, “the king of song,” dear to him in after life from many associations. He has remarked that his earliest impressions of nature were exceedingly vivid; the beauties of natural scenery stirred “a frenzy” in his blood, and at the earliest age the bent of his future studies were indicated by many characteristic traits. He appears to have left Louisiana while but a child, and gone to St. Domingo, where he resided for a short period, previous to his departure for France, where his education was to be commenced. His earliest recollections of his life in France extend to his home in the central district of the city of Nantes, and a fact he remembered well was being attended by two negro servants sent home from India by his father. He speaks of his life in Nantes as joyous in the extreme. His step- mother, being without any children of her own, humoured the child in every whim, and indulged him in every luxury. The future naturalist, who in the recesses of American forests was to live on roots and fruits, and even scantier fare, was indulged with a “carte blanche” on all the confectionery shops in the village where his summer months were passed, and he speaks of the kindnesses of his stepmother as over- whelming. His father had less weakness, ordered the boy SCHOOL DAYS. 5 to attend to his education, to be sent to school, to be tutored at home. The elder Audubon had known too many changes of fortune to believe in the fickle goddess; and notwithstand- ing his wife’s tears and entreaties, determining to educate his son thoroughly, as the safest inheritance he could leave him, he sent the young gentleman straightway to school. Audubon laments that education in France was but miserably attended to during the years that succeeded the great political convulsions. Military education had usurped all the care of the First Empire, and the wants of the civil population were but sparingly heeded. His father, from natural predilections, was desirous that the boy should become a sailor, a cadet in the French navy, or an engineer; and with these views before him, he decided on the course of study his son should follow. Mathematics, drawing, geography, fencing, and music, were among the branches of education prescribed; it being evident that a complex course of instruction was not among the misapprehensions the old sailor’s professional prejudices had nurtured. Audubon had, for music-master, an adept who taught him to play adroitly upon the violin, flute, flageolet, and guitar. For drawing- master, he had David, the chief inventor and worshipper of the abominations which smothered the aspirations of French artists during the revolutionary generation. Nevertheless it was to David that Audubon owed his earliest lessons in tracing objects of natural history, and the mannerism of the great French artist may still be traced in certain pedantries dis- cernible in Audubon’s style of drawing. Audubon was, more- over, a proficient in dancing,—an accomplishment which in after years he had more opportunities of practising among bears than among men. Influenced by the military fever of his time, he dreamed in his school days of being a soldier; but happily for natural science his adventurous spirit found another outlet. Fortunately his instruction was under the practical guidance of his mother, and large scope was allowed him for indulging in nest-hunting propensities. Supplied with a haversack of provisions, he made frequent excursions into the country, and usually returned loaded with objects of natural history, birds’ nests, birds’ eggs, specimens of moss, curious stones, and other objects attractive to his eye. 6 LIFE OF AUDUBON. “When the old sailor returned from sea he was astonished at the large collection his boy had made, paid him some compli- ments on his good taste, and asked what progress he had made in his other studies. No satisfactory-reply being given, he retired without reproach, but, evidently mortified at the idleness of the young naturalist, seemed to turn his attention towards his daughter, whose musical attainments had been successfully cultivated. On the day following the disclosure father and son started for Rochefort, where the elder held some appointment. The journey occupied four days, and the pair did not exchange one unnecessary word during the journey. Reaching his official residence, the father explained that he himself would super- intend his son’s education; gave the boy liberty for one day to survey the ships of war and the fortifications, and warned him that on the morrow a severe course of study should be com- menced. And commence it did accordingly. More than a year was spent in the close study of mathematics; though whenever opportunity occurred the severer study was neglected for rambles after objects of natural history, and the collection of more specimens. At Nantes, Audubon actually began to draw sketches of French birds,—a work he continued with such assiduity that he completed two hundred specimens. His father was desirous that he should join the armies of Napoleon, and win fame by following the French eagles. Warfare, however, had ceased to be a passion of the youth, and he was sent out to America to superintend his father’s pro- perties: He has recorded in affecting language his regret at leaving behind him the country where he had spent his boy- hood, the friends upon whose affections he relied, the associations that had been endeared to him. “While the breeze wafted along the great ship, hours were spent in deep sorrow or melancholy musings.” “On landing at New York I caught the yellow fever, by walking to the bank in Greenwich Street to cash my letters of credit.” Captain John Smith, whose name is gratefully recorded, took compassion on the young emigrant, removed him to Morristown, and placed him under the care of two Quaker ladies at a boarding-house, and to the kindness of these ladies he doubtless owed his life. His father’s agent, INTRODUCTION TO HIS WIFE. 7 Mr. Fisher, of Philadelphia, knowing his condition, went with his carriage to his lodging, and drove the invalid to his villa, situated at some distance from the city on the road to Trenton. Mr. Fisher was a Quaker, and a strict formalist in religious matters ; did not approve of hunting, and even objected to music. To the adventurous and romantic youth this home was little livelier than a prison, and he gladly escaped from it. Mr. Fisher, at his request, put him in possession of his father’s property of Mill Grove, on the Perkiominy Creek; and from the rental paid by the tenant, a Quaker named William Thomas, the youth found himself supplied with all the funds he needed. At Mill Grove young Audubon found “a blessed spot.” In the regularity of the fences, the straight and military exactness of the avenues, Audubon saw his father’s taste, nay, his very handiwork. The mill attached to the property was to him a daily source of enjoyment, and he was delighted with the repose of the quiet milldam where the pewees were accustomed to build. ‘ Hunting, fishing, and drawing occupied my every moment,” he writes; adding, “cares I knew not, and cared nothing for them.” In simple and unaffected language he relates his introduction to his wife, the daughter of Mr. Bakewell, an English gentleman who had purchased the adjoining property. Mr. Bakewell lived at Fatland Ford, within sight of Mill Grove, but Audubon had avoided the family, as English and objectionable to one. who had been nurtured with hatred to “ perfidious Albion.” The very name of Englishman was odious to him, he tells us; and even after his neighbour had called upon him, he was uncivil enough to postpone his advances in return. Mrs. Thomas, the tenant's wife at Mill Grove, with a woman’s desire to see what the issue might be, urged her young master to visit the Bakewell family ; but the more he was urged his heart appeared to be the more hardened against the stranger. The winter’s frosts had set in. Audubon was following some grouse down the creek, when suddenly he came upon Mr. Bake- well, who at once dissipated the Frenchman’s prejudices by the discovery of kindred tastes. Audubon writes: “I was struck with the kind politeness of his manners, and found him a most expert marksman, and entered into conversation. I admired 8 LIFE OF AUDUBON. the beauty of his well-trained dogs, and finally promised to call upon him and his family. Well do I recollect the morning, and may it please God that I may never forget it, when, for the first time, I entered the Bakewell household. It happened that Mr. Bakewell was from home. I was shown into a parlour, where only one young lady was snugly seated at work, with her back turned towards the fire. She rose on my entrance, offered me a seat, and assured me of the gratification her father would feel on his return, which, she added with a smile, would be in a few minutes, as she would send a servant after him. Other ruddy cheeks made their appearance, but like spirits gay, vanished from my sight, Talking and working, the young lady who remained made the time pass pleasantly enough, and to me especially so. It was she, my dear Lucy Bakewell, who afterwards became my wife and the mother of my children.” Mr. Bakewell speedily returned, and Lucy attended to the lanch provided before leaving on a shooting expedition. “ Lucy rose from her seat a second time, and her form, to which I had before paid little attention, seemed radiant with beauty, and my heart and eyes followed her every step. The repast being ever, guns and dogs were provided, and as we left I was pleased to believe that Lucy looked upon me as a not very strange animal. Bowing to her, I felt 1 knew not why, that I was at least not indifferent to her.” The acquaintance so pleasantly an rapidly matured. Audubon and Bakewell were often companions in their shooting excursions, and finally the whole Bakewell family were invited to Mill Grove. The property of Audubon was separated from Bakewell’s plantation by a road leading from Morristown to Pawling’s Landing, now Pawling’s Bridge, or about a quarter of a mile apart; and the result of the friendly relationship established between the two households gave rise to a series of mutual signals, chalked on a board and hung out of the window. The friendship deepened. Lucy Bakewell taught English to Audubon, and received drawing lessons in return. Of course no one failed to predict the result ; but as a love affair is chiefly interesting to those immediately concerned, we pass on to other matters. , CHAPTER IIL. AsPIRATIONS—YOUTHFUL REcoLLECTIONS—A MaARvELLous EscarE—GLEAMS or Baron Muncuavsen. At Mill Grove Audubon pored over his idea of a great work on American Ornithology, until the thought took some shape in his fervid mind. The work he had prepared for himself to do was an “ Ornithological Biography,” including an account of the habits and a description of the birds of America; that work which in its completed form Cuvier pronounced to be “ The most gigantic biblical enterprise ever undertaken by the enterprise of a single individual.” However, it was only~after his drawings and his descriptions accumulated upon him that Audubon decided to give the collection the form of a scientific work. Audubon speaks of his life at Mill Grove as being in every way agreeable. He had ample means for all his wants, was gay, extravagant, and fond of dress. He rather naively writes in his journal, “I had no vices; but was thoughtless, pensive, loving, fond of shooting, fishing, and riding, and had a passion for raising all sorts of fowls, and which sources of interest and amusement fully occupied my time. It was one of my fancies to be ridiculously fond of dress; to hunt in black satin breeches, wear pumps when shooting, and dress in the finest ruffled shirts I could obtain from France.” He was also fond of dancing, and music, und skating, and attended all the balls and skating parties in his neighbourhood. Regarding his mode of life, Audubon gives some hints useful to those who desire to strengthen their constitution by an abstemious diet. 10 LIFE OF AUDUBON. He says:—“I ate no butcher’s meat, lived chiefly on fruits, vegetables, and fish, and never drank a glass of spirits or wine until my wedding day. To this I attribute my continual good health, endurance, and an iron constitution. So strong was the habit, that I disliked going to dinner parties, where people were expected to indulge in eating and drinking, and where often there was not a single dish to my taste. I cared nothing for sumptuous entertainments. Pies, puddings, eggs, and milk or cream was the food I liked best; and many a time was the dairy of Mrs. Thomas, the tenant’s wife of Mill Grove, robbed of the cream intended to make butter for the Philadelphia market. All this while I was fair and rosy as a girl, strong as any one of my age and sex could be, and as active and agile as a buck. And why, have I often thought, should I not have kept to this delicious mode of living ?” Note here a curious incident in connection with his love of skating and his proficiency as a marksman. Having been skating down the Perkiominy Creek, he met Miss Bakewell’s young brother William, and wagered that he would put a shot through his cap when tossed into the air, while Audubon was passing full speed. The experiment was made, and the cap riddled. A still more striking incident is thus related: “Having engaged in a duck-shooting expeition up the Perkiominy Creek with young Bakewell and some young friends, it was found that the ice was full of dangerous air-holes. On our upward journey it was easy to avoid accident, but the return trip was attended with an accident which had nearly closed my career. Indeed, my escape was one of the inconceiy- able miracles that occasionally rescues a doomed man from his fate. The trip was extended too far, and night and darkness had set in long before we reached home. I led the party through the dusk with a white handkerchief made fast to a stick, and we proceeded like a flock of geese going to their feeding ground. Watching for air-holes, I generally avoided them; but increasing our speed, I suddenly plunged into one, was carried for some distance by the stream under the ice, and stunned and choking I was forced up through another air-hole farther down the stream. I clutched hold of the ice and arrested my downward progress, until my companions arrived to help me. My wet INTERFERENCE OF HIS PARTNER, il clothes had to be changed. One lent me a shirt, another a coat, and so apparelled I resumed my homeward journey. Unable to reach Mill Grove, I was taken to Mr. Bakewell’s house chilled and bruised. It was three months before I recovered, notwithstanding the advice of able physicians called in from Philadelphia.” The quiet life young Audubon led at Mill Grove was inter- rupted by an incident in his life which might have proved serious to one owning less energy and hardihood than he pos- sessed. A “partner, tutor, and monitor,’ one Da Casta, sent from France by the elder Audubon to prosecute the lead mine enterprise at Mill Grove, began to assume an authority over young Audubon which the latter considered unwarranted. An attempt was made to limit his finances, and Da Casta, unfortu- nately for himself, went further, and objected to the proposed union with Lucy Bakewell, as being an unequal match. Audubon resented such interference, and demanded money from Da Casta to carry him to France. The French adventurer suggested a voyage to India, but finally agreed to give Audubon a letter of credit upon an agent named Kanman, in New York. With characteristic earnestness Audubon walked straight off to New York, where he arrived in three days, notwithstanding the severity of a midwinter journey. The day following his arrival he called upon Mr. Kanman, who frankly told him he had no money to give him, and further disclosed Da Casta’s treachery by hinting that Audubon should be seized and shipped for China. Furious at this treatment, Audubon procured money from a friend, and engaged a passage on board the brig Hope, of New Bedford, bound for Nantes. He left New York, and after considerable delays, surprised his parents in their quiet country home. 12 LIFE OF AUDUBON, CHAPTER IV. Resutt or Avpuson’s Voyage To France—His Faruer’s consent To His MarriaGE—RENEWAL oF Birp-HUNTING Porsurrs—HXAMINATION For THE FRENcH Marine, AND APPOINTMENT To THE Post or Mip- SHIPMAN—RETURN TO AMERICA—CHASED BY A PrivaTEER—NaRnow Escare rrom Lostne Hs Gop. * EXPLAINING to his father the scandalous conduct of Da Casta, young Audubon prevailed so far that the traitor was removed from the position in which he had been placed with such hasty confidence. He had also to request his father’s approval of his marriage with Miss Lucy Bakewell, and the father promised to decide as soon as he had an answer to a letter he had written to Mr. Bakewell in Pennsylvania. Settled in the paternal house for a year, the naturalist gratified in every fashion his wander- ing instincts. He roamed everywhere in the neighbourhood of the home, shooting, fishing, and collecting specimens of natural history. He also continued his careful drawings of natural history specimens, and stuffed and prepared many birds and animals—an art which he had carefully acquired in America. In one year two hundred drawings of European birds had been completed—a fact which displays marvellous industry, if it does not necessarily imply a sound artistic representation of the birds drawn. At this period the tremendous convulsions of the French empire had culminated in colossal preparations for a conflict with Russia. The conscription threatened every man capable of bearing arms, and Audubon appeared to believe that he stood in some danger of being enrolled in the general » CHASED BY THE RATTLESNAKE. 18 levy. His two brothers were already serving in the armies of Napoleon as officers, and it was decided that their junior should voluntarily join the navy. After passing what he called “a superficial examination” for an appointment as midshipman, he was ordered to report at Rochefort. Entering upon his duties in the French marine, he was destined to make at least one short cruise in the service of France. Before entering the service he had made the acquaintance of a young man named Ferdinand Rosier, with whom he had made some proposal of going to America. On the return of the vessel in which he acted, it was proposed that he and Rosier should leave for America as partners, under a nine years’ engagement. The elder Audubon obtained leave of absence for his son; and after passports were provided, the two emigrants left France at a period when thousands would have been glad of liberty to follow their foot- steps. About two weeks after leaving France, a vessel gave chase to the French vessel, passed her by to windward, fired a shot across her bows, and continued the chase until the captain of the outward bound was forced to heave his ship to, and submit to be boarded by a boat. The enemy proved to be the English privateer Rattlesnake, the captain of which was sadly vexed to find that his prey was an American vessel, carrying proper papers, and flying the stars and stripes. Unable to detain the vessel, the privateer’s crew determined at least to rob the passengers. “They took pigs and sheep,” writes Audubon, “and carried away two of our best sailors, in spite of the remonstrances of the captain, and of a member of the United States Congress, who was a passenger on board, and was accompanied by an amiable daughter. The Rattlesnake kept us under her lee, and almost within pistol-shot for a day and a night, ransacking the ship for money, of which we had a great deal in the run under the ballast, which though partially removed, they did not go deep enough to reach the treasure. The gold belonging to Rosier and myself I put away in a woollen stocking under the ship’s cable in the bows of the ship, where it remained safe until the privateers had departed. Reaching within thirty miles of Sandy Hook, a fishing-smack was spoken, which reported that two British frigates lay off 14 LIFE OF AUDUBON. the entrance, and had fired on an American ship; that they were impressing American seamen, and that, in fact, they were even more dangerous to meet than the pirates who sailed under a ‘letter of marque.’ The captain, warned of one danger, ran into another. He took his vessel through Long Island Sound, and ran it upon a spit in a gale. Floated off the Adventurous; finally reached New York in safety.” CHAPTER VY. Tur Instincts or THE Naturaist—DirricuLtizs To BE OVERCOME IN Depicting Birps—ARTIstic ANXIETIES—KNOWLEDGE oF Borany—Gors to New York to AcquirE a KNowLEeDGE or Bustness—Loszs Monty AND DOES NoT SuccEED IN HIS Purrosrs—PortraiIt or HImMsELF— Retcrns to Mitt Grove—ExPeEDITION TO THE WEST. From the introductory address in the first volume of Audubon’s “ Ornithological Biography,” published at Edinburgh, in 1834, many passages may be cited as an exposition of the high aspirations which stimulated the young naturalist to his task. These passages may be divided into scientific and artistic. Belong- ing to the first category are constant references to that thirst for accurate and complete knowledge regarding wild animals, and especially birds, their habits, forms, nests, eggs, progeny, places of breeding, and all that concerned them. But, after all, Audubon was not at heart a man of science. He gathered much, and speculated little, and was more a backwoodsman than a philosopher. In his rough great way he did good service, but his great physical energy, not his mental resources, was the secret of his success. His crude artistic instincts inspired him with the desire to represent, by the aid of pencil, crayon, or paint, the form, plumage, attitude, and characteristic marks of his feathered favourites. In working towards this end, he laboured to pro- duce life-like pictures, and frequently with wonderful success. Strongly impressed with the difficulties of representing in any perfect degree the living image of the birds he drew, he laboured 16 LIFE OF AUDUBON. arduously at what we may call forcible photographs in colours, his first aim being fidelity, and his next, artistic beauty. How much chagrin his failures cost him may be gleamed from the lamentations he makes over his unsuccessful efforts in the introductory address referred to above. Regarding the means he adopted to secure a faultless representation of the animals he desired to transcribe, he writes:—“ Patiently and with in- dustry did I apply myself to study, for although I felt the impossibility of giving life to my productions, I did not abandon the idea of representing nature. Many plans were successively adopted, many masters guided my hand. At the age of seven- teen, when I returned from France, whither I had gone to receive the rudiments of my education, my drawings had assumed a form. David had guided my hand in tracing objects of large size: eyes and noses belonging to giants and heads of horses, represented in ancient sculpture, were my models. These, although fit subjects for men intent on pursuing the higher branches of art, were immediately laid aside by me. I returned to the woods of the new world with fresh ardour, and com- menced a collection of drawings, which I henceforth continued, and which is now publishing under the title of ‘The Birds of America,’ ” To resume the narrative of Audubon’s journey back to Mill Grove. Da Casta was dismissed from his situation, and Audubon remained his own master. Mr. William Bakewell, the brother of Lucy, has recorded some interesting particulars of a visit to Mill Grove at this period. He says :—‘ Audubon took me to his house, where he and his companion Rosier resided, with Mrs. Thomas for an attendant. On entering his room, I was astonished and delighted to find that it was turned into a museum. The walls were festooned with all sorts of birds’ eggs, carefully blown out and strung on a thread. The chimney- piece was covered with stuffed squirrels, racoons, and opossums ; and the shelves around were likewise crowded with specimens, among which were fishes, frogs, snakes, lizards, and other reptiles. Besides these stuffed varieties, many paintings were arrayed upon the walls, chiefly of birds. He had great skill in stuffing and preserving animals of all sorts. He had also a trick of training dogs with great perfection, of which art his LIFE IN NEW YORK. 17 famous dog Zephyr was a wonderful example. He was an admirable marksman, an expert swimmer, a clever rider, pos- sessed great activity, prodigious strength, and was notable for the elegance of his figure and the beauty of his features, and he aided nature by a careful attendance to his dress. Besides other accomplishments, he was musical, a good fencer, danced well, had some acquaintance of legerdemain tricks, worked in hair, and could plait willow-baskets.” He adds further, that Audubon once swam across the Schuylkil river with him on his back, no contemptible feat for a young athlete. The naturalist was evidently a nonpareil in the eyes of his neighbours, and of those who were intimate enough to know his manifold tastes. But Love began to interfere a little with the gratification of these Bohemian instincts. On expressing his desire of uniting himself to Miss Bakewell, Audubon was advised by Mr. Bakewell to obtain some knowledge of commercial pursuits before getting married. With this intention, Audubon started fur New York, entered the counting-house of Mr. Benjamin Bakewell, and made rapid progress in his education by losing some hundreds of pounds by a bad speculation in indigo. The leading work done by the imprisoned naturalist was, as usual, wandering in search of birds and natural curiosities. While so engaged he made the acquaintance of Dr. Samuel Mitchel, one of the leading medical men in New York city, and dis- tinguished as an ethnologist. Dr. Mitchel was one of the founders of the Lyceum of Natural History, and of the ‘ Medical Repository,’ which was the first scientific journal started in the United States. Audubon prepared many specimens for this gentleman, which he believed were finally deposited in the New York Museum. After a season of probation, during which Mr. Bakewell became convinced of the impussibility of tutoring Audubon into mercantile habits, the naturalist gladly returned to Mill Grove. Rosier, who had likewise been recommended to attempt commerce, lost a considerable sum in an unfortunate speculation, and eventually returned to Mill Grove with his friend. Audubon remarks that at this period it took him but a few minutes, walking smartly, to pass from one end of New York to another, so sparse was the population at the date of his residence. Cc 18 LIFE OF AUDUBON. He adds, in reference to his absent habits and unsuitability for business, that he at one time posted without sealing it a letter containing 8000 dollars. His natural history pursuits in New York occasioned a disagreeable flavour from his rooms, occasioned by drying birds’ skins; and was productive of so much annoyance to his neighbours, that they forwarded a message to him through a constable, insisting on his abating the nuisance. An excellent pen and ink sketch of his own appearance at this time has been left by Audubon. He says: “I measured five feet ten and a half inches, was of a fair mien, and quite a handsome figure ; large, dark, and rather sunken eyes, light-coloured eyebrows, aquiline nose, and a fine set of teeth; hair, fine texture and luxuriant, divided and passing down behind each ear in luxuriant ringlets as far as the shoulders.” There appears excellent reason to believe that Audubon quite appreciated his youthful graces, and, with the naiveté of a simple nature, was not ashamed to record them. After returning to Mill Grove, Audubon and his friend Rosier planned an expedition towards the west, at that time a wild region thinly populated by a very strange people. CHAPTER VI. Aupupon’s Marriage AND JourNEY To Lovisvinte—His SeTTLEMENT THERE AND PuiEasant Lire—ConTiInvance or is Pursurrs—WeEst- ERN HospiraLiry—Business ProspPecrs—REMovAL oF BUSINESS TO HENDERSONVILLE— MEETING WITH ALEXANDER WILSON, THE AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGIST, AND Paistey Port. THE journey of Audubon and Rosier to Kentucky had for its purpose the discovery of some outlet for the naturalist’s energies, in the shape of a settled investment, which would permit of his marriage to Miss Bakewell. In Louisville Audubon de- termined to remain, and with this purpose in view he sold his plantation of Mill Grove, invested his capital in goods, and pre- pared to start for the west. His arrangements being complete, he was married to Miss Bakewell on the 8th of April, 1808, in her father’s residence at Fatland Ford. Journeying by Pittsburg the wedded pair reached Louisville with their goods in safety. From Pittsburg they sailed down the Ohio in a flat-bottomed float named an ark, and which proved to be an exceedingly tedious and primitive mode of travelling. This river voyage occupied twelve days, and must have given the naturalist wonderful opportunities of making observations. At Louisville he commenced trade under favourable auspices, but the hunting of birds continued to be the ruling passion. His life at this period, in the company of his young wife, appears to have been extremely happy, and he writes that he had really reason “to care for nothing.” The country around Louisville was settled by planters who were fond of hunting, and among whom he c2 20 LIFE OF AUDUBON. found a ready welcome. The shooting and drawing of birds was continued. His friend Rosier, less fond of rural sports, stuck to the counter, and, as Audubon phrases it, “grew rich, and that was all he cared for.” Audubon’s pursuits appear to have severed him from the business, which was left to Rosier’s management. Finally, the war of 1812 imperilled the prosperity of the part- ners, and what goods remained on hand were shipped to Hender- sonville, Kentucky, where Rosier remained for some years longer, before going farther westward in search of the fortune he coveted. Writing of the kindness shown him by his friends at Louisville, Audubon relates that when he was absent on business, or “ away on expeditions,” his wife was carried off to some neighbour's house, and taken care of till he returned. It was at Louisville that Audubon made the acquaintance of Wilson, the American ornithologist. Wilson, a poor Scottish rhyme-making weaver, had been driven from Paisley through his sympathies with the political agitators of that notable Scottish town; and finding a refuge in the United States, had turned his attention to ornithology. From the pages of Audu- bon’s ‘ Ornithological Biography’ it may be interesting to. re- produce an account of the meeting between the two naturalists. “ One fair morning,” writes Audubon, “1 was surprised by the sudden entrance into our counting-room at Louisville of Mr. Alexander Wilson, the celebrated author of the ‘ American Ornithology,’ of whose existence I had never until that moment been apprized. This happened in March, 1810. How well do I remember him, as he then walked up to me! His long, rather hooked nose, the keenness of his eyes, and his prominent cheek- bones stamped his countenance with a peculiar character. Hig dress, too, was of a kind not usually seen in that part of the country ; a short coat, trousers, and a waistcoat of grey cloth. His stature was not above the middle size. He had two volumes under his arm, and as he approached the table.at which I was working, I thought I discovered something like astonishment in his countenance. He, however, immediately proceeded to dis- close the object of his visit, which was to procure subscriptions for his work. He opened his books, explained the nature of his occupations, and requested my patronage. I felt surprised and gratified at the sight of his volumes, turned over a few of the VISIT OF ALEXANDER WILSON. ya plates, and had already taken a pen to write my name in his favour, when my partner rather abruptly said to me in French, ‘My dear Audubon, what induces you to subscribe to this work ? Your drawings are certainly far better ; and again, you must know as much of the habits of American birds as this gentleman.’ Whether Mr. Wilson understood French or not, or if the suddenness with which I paused, disappointed him, I cannot tell; but I clearly perceived that he was not pleased. Vanity and the encomiums of my friend prevented me from subscribing. Mr. Wilson asked me if I had many drawings of birds. I rose, took down a large portfolio, laid it on the table, and showed him—as I would show you, kind reade’, or any other person fond of such subjects—the whole of the contents, withthe same patience with which he had shown me his own engravings. His surprise appeared great as he told me he never had the most distant idea that any other individual than himself had been engaged in forming such a collection. He asked me if it was my intention to publish, and when I answered in the negative, his surprise seemed to increase. And, truly, such was not my intention; for, until long after, when I met the Prince of Musignano in Philadelphia, I had not the least idea of presenting the fruits of my labours to the world. Mr. Wilson now examined my drawings with care, asked if I should have any objections to lending him a few during his stay, to which I replied that I had none. He then bade me good morning, not, however, until I had made an arrangement to explore the woods in the vicinity along with him, and had promised to procure for him some birds, of which I had drawings in my collection, but which he had never seen. It happened that: he lodged in the same house with us, but his retired habits, I thought, exhibited either a strong feeling of discontent or a decided melancholy. The Scotch airs which he played sweetly on his flute made me melancholy too, and I felt for him. I presented him to my wife and friends, and seeing that he was all enthusiasm, exerted myself as much as was in my power to procure for him the specimens which he wanted. We hunted together, and obtained birds which he had never before seen; but, reader, I did not subscribe to his work, for, ‘even at that time, my collection was greater than his. Thinking that perhaps he might be pleased to publish the results of my 22 LIFE OF AUDUBON. researches, I offered them to him, merely on condition that what I had drawn, or might afterwards draw and send to him, should be mentioned in his work as coming from my pencil. I at the same time offered to open a correspondence with him, which I thought might prove beneficial to us both. He made no reply to either proposal, and before many days had elapsed left Louisville, on his way to New Orleans, little knowing how much his talents were appreciated in our little town, at least by myself and my friends. “Some time elapsed, during which I never heard of him, or of his work. At length, having occasion to go to Philadelphia, I, immediately after my‘ arrival there, inquired for him, and paid him a visit. He was then drawing a white-headed eagle. He received me with civility, and took me to the exhibition: rooms of Rembrandt Peale, the artist, who had then portrayed Napoleon crossing the Alps. Mr. Wilson spoke not of birds or drawings. Feeling, as I was forced to do, that my company was not agreeable, I parted from him; and after that I never saw him again. But judge of my astonishment some time after, when, on reading the thirty-ninth page of the ninth volume of ‘American Ornithology,’ I found in it the following para- graph :— “¢ March 23, 1810.—I bade adieu to Louisville, to which place I had four letters of recommendation, and was taught to expect much of everything there; but neither received one act of civility from those to whom I was recommended, one sub- scriber, nor one new bird; though I delivered my letters, ransacked the woods repeatedly, and visited all the characters likely to subscribe. Science or literature has not one friend in this place.’” . The contrast between the chivalric conduct of Audubon and Wilson’s narrow spirit are here very marked; but it has to be borne in mind that, while Audubon was a polished and well- educated French gentleman, Wilson was a poor weaver, educated by the aid of his own industry, and suffering from the many blights that had fallen upon his class in a land where the amenities of civilization had not done much to soften the manners of the working classes. Further, this and many other incidents related by Audubon himself must be taken cum grano VANITY OF AUDUBON. 23 salis. If Audubon had one marked fault, it was vanity; he was a queer compound of Acteon and Narcissus—holding a gun in one hand and flourishing a looking-glass in the other. It was little not to subscribe to Wilson’s book, and it naturally awakened suspicion. Like all vain men, the Frenchman was not unsel- fish, as the reader will doubtless discover for himself in the sequel. , 24 LIFE OF AUDUBON. CHAPTER VI. Return or Mrs. Aupuson To HER Fatuer’s Houss—Avupuson anxp Rosizn MovE TO HENDERSONVILLE—Business UNREMUNERATIVE— DETERMINE To TRY St. GENEVIEVE oN THE MississipPI—SaiL DOWN THE OHIO AND DELAY at Caso CreexK—Camp or SHAWNEE InpIans—WiILD Swan SuooTine witH Inprans—A Beran Hunt, anp Vauiant InpIan— Towine up THE Mississtppr—Boat Frozen iIn—Mugrtine wits Osace Tnp1ans—DesPeraAte Errort to Rescur tur Boat rrom Icze—ARRIvVAL at Sr. GENEVIRVE, : At Louisville it was discovered that business was suffering from over-competition, and no further time was to be lost in transferring the stock to Hendersonville. Before leaving Louis- ville to take up his residence at Hendersonville, farther down the Ohio river, Audubon took his wife and young son back to her father’s house at Fatland Ford, where they resided for a year. ‘ Audubon and his partner Rosier arranged their migration with the remaining stock, and entered upon their voyage of one hundred and twenty miles down the Ohio to Henderson- ville. Arriving at this place, they found the neighbourhood thinly inhabited,-and the demand for goods almost limited to the coarsest material. The merchants were driven to live upon the produce of their guns and fishing-rods. The clerk employed for the firm had even to assist in supply- ing the table, and while he did so Rosier attended to the business. The profits on any business done was enormous, but the sales were so trifling that another change was determined on. It was proposed that the stock in hand should be removed VOYAGE TO ST. GENEVIEVE. 25 to St. Genevieve, a settlement on the Mississippi river, and until it was ascertained how the enterprise would prosper, Mrs. Audubon should be left at Hendersonville, with the family of Dr. Parkin, who resided in the immediate neighbourhood. Of the adventurous voyage to St. Genevieve, Audubon gives this graphic account :— “ Putting our goods, which consisted of three hundred barrels of whisky, sundry dry goods, and powder, on board a keel-boat, my partner, my clerk, and self departed in a severe snow-storm. The boat was new, staunch, and well trimmed, and had a cabin in her bow. A long steering oar, made of the trunk of a slender tree, about sixty feet in length, and shaped at its outer extremity like the fin of a dolphin, helped to steer the boat, while the four oars from the bow impelled her along, when going with the current, about five miles an hour. “The storm we set out in continued, and soon covered the ground with a wintry sheet. Our first night on board was dismal indeed, but the dawn brought us opposite the mouth of the Cumberland River. It was evident that the severe cold had frozen all.the neighbouring lakes and lagoons, because thousands of wild water-fowl were flying to the river, and settling them- selves on its borders. We permitted our boat to drift past, and amused ourselves by firing into flocks of birds. “The third day we entered Cash Creek, a very small stream, but having deep water and a good harbour. Here I met Count Demun, who was also in a boat like ours, and bound also for St. Geneviéve. Here we learned that the Mississippi was covered with floating ice of a thickness dangerous to the safety of our craft, and indeed that it was impossible to ascend the river against it. “The creek was full of water, was crowded with wild birds, and was plentifully supplied with fish. The large sycamores, and the bare branches of the trees that fringed the creek, were favourite resorts of paroquets, which came at night to roost in their hollow trunks. An agreeable circumstance was an encamp- ment of about fifty families of Shawnee Indians, attracted to the spot by the mast of the forest, which brought together herds of deer, and many bears and racoons. “Mr. Rosier, whose only desire was to reach the destination 26 LIFE OF AUDUBON. and resume trade, was seized with melancholy at the prospect occasioned by the delay. He brooded in silence over a mishap which had given me great occasion for rejoicing.” A narrative of Audubon’s stay at Cash Creek, and perilous journey up the Mississippi, is picturesquely given in his journal, and from which the following is extracted :— “The second morning after our arrival at Cash Creek, while I was straining my eyes to discover whether it was fairly day dawn or no, I heard a movement in the Indian camp, and discovered that a canoe, with half a dozen squaws and as many hunters, was about leaving for Tennessee. I had heard that there was a large lake opposite to us, where immense flocks of swans resorted every morning, and asking permission to join them, I seated myself on my haunches in the canoe, well pro- vided with ammunition and a bottle of whisky, and in a few minutes the paddles were at work, swiftly propelling us to the opposite shore. I was not much surprised to see the boat paddled by the squaws, but I was quite so to see the hunters stretch themselves out and go to sleep. On landing, the squaws took charge of the canoe, secured it, and went in search of nuts, while we gentlemen hunters made the best of our way through thick and thin to the lake. Its muddy shores were overgrown with a close growth of cotton trees, too large to be pushed aside, and too thick to pass through except by squeezing your- self at every few steps; and to add to the difficulty, every few rods we ,came to small nasty lagoons, which one must jump, leap, or swim, and this not without peril of broken limbs or drowning. “ But when the lake burst on our view there were the swans by hundreds, and white as rich cream, either dipping their black bills in the water, or stretching out one leg on its surface, or gently floating along. According to the Indian mode of hunting, we had divided, and approached the lagoon from different sides. The moment our vidette was seen, it seemed as if thousands of large, fat, and heavy swans were startled, and as. they made away from him they drew towards the ambush of death ; for the trees had hunters behind them, whose touch of the trigger would carry destruction among them. As the first party fired, the game rose and flew within easy distance of the party CAMPING AT CASH CREEK. 27 on the opposite side, when they again fired, and I saw the water covered with birds floating with their backs downwards, and their heads sunk in the water, and their legs kicking in the air. When the sport was over we counted more than fifty of these beautiful birds, whose skins were intended for the ladies in Europe. There were plenty of geese and ducks, but no one condescended to give them a shot. A conch was sounded, and after a while the squaws came dragging the canoe, and collect- ing the dead game, which was taken to the river’s edge, fastened to the canoe, and before dusk we were again landed at our camping ground. I had heard of sportsmen in England who walked a whole day, and after firing a pound of powder returned in great glee, bringing one partridge; and I could not help wondering what they would think of the spoil we were bearing from Swan Lake ? “The fires were soon lighted, and a soup of pecan nuts and bear fat made and eaten. The hunters stretched themselves with their feet close to the camp-fires, intended to burn all night. The squaws then began to skin the birds, and I retired, very well satisfied with my Christmas sport. “When I awoke in the morning and made my rounds through the camp, I found a squaw had been delivered of beautiful twins during the night, and I saw the same squaw at work tanning deer-skins. She had cut two vines at the roots of opposite trees and made a cradle of bark, in which the new-born ones were wafted to and fro with a push of her hand, while from time to time she gave them the breast, and was apparently as uncon- cerned as if the event had not taken place. “ An Indian camp on a hunting expedition is by no means a place of idleness, and although the men do little more than hunt, they perform their task with an industry which borders on enthusiasm. I was invited by three hunters to a bear-hunt. A tall, robust, well-shaped fellow, assured 'me that we should have some sport that day, for he ‘had discovered the haunt of one of large size, and he wanted to meet him face to face; and we four started to see how he would fulfil his boast. About half a mile from the camp he said he perceived his tracks, though I could see nothing; and we rambled on through the cane brake until we came to an immense decayed log, in which he swore 28 LIFE OF AUDUBON. the bear was. I saw his eye sparkle with joy, his rusty blanket was thrown off his shoulders, his brawny arms swelled with blood, as he drew his scalping-knife from his belt with a flourish which showed that fighting was his delight. He told me to mount a small sapling, because a bear cannot climb one, while it can go up a large tree with the nimbleness of a squirrel. The two other Indians seated themselves at the entrance, and the hero went in boldly. All was silent for a few moments, when he came out and said the bear was dead, and I might come down. The Indians cut a long vine, went into the hollow tree, fastened it to the animal, and with their united force dragged it out. I really thought that this was an exploit. “Since then I have seen many Indian exploits, which proved to me their heroism. In Europe or America the white hunter would have taken his game home and talked about it for weeks, but these simple people only took off the animal’s skin, hung the flesh in quarters on the trees, and continued their hunt. Unable to follow them, I returned to the camp, accompanied by one Indian, who broke the twigs of the bushes we passed, and sent back two squaws on the track, who brought the flesh and skin of the bear to the camp. “ At length the nuts were nearly all gathered, and the game grew scarce, and the hunters remained most of the day in camp; and they soon made up their packs, broke up their abodes, put all on board their canoes, and paddled off down the Mississippi for the little prairie on the Arkansas. “Their example made a stir among the whites, and my impa- tient partner begged me to cross the bend and see if the ice was yet too solid for us to ascend the river. Accordingly, accompanied by two of the crew, I made my way to the Mississippi. The weather was milder, and the ice so sunk as to be scarcely per- ceptible, and I pushed up the shore to a point opposite Cape Girardeau. We hailed the people on the opposite bank, and a robust yellow man came across, named Loume. He stated that he was a son of the Spanish governor of Louisiana, and a good pilot on the river, and would take our boat up provided we had four good hands, as he had six. A bargain was soon struck; their canoe hauled into the woods, some blazes struck on the trees, and all started for Cash Creek. VOYAGE UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 29 “The night was spent in making tugs of hides and shaving oars, and at daylight we left the Creek, glad to be afloat once more in broader water. oing down the stream to the mouth of the Ohio was fine sport; indeed, my partner considered the worst of the journey over; but, alas! when we turned the point, and met the mighty rush of the Mississippi, running three miles an hour, and bringing shoals of ice to further impede our progress, he looked on despairingly. The patrom ordered the lines ashore, and it became the duty of every man ‘to haul the cordella, which was a rope fastened to the bow of the boat; and one man being left on board to steer, the others, laying the rope over their shoulders, slowly warped the heavy boat and cargo against the current. We made seven miles that day up the famous river. But while I was tugging with my back at the cordella, I kept my eyes fixed on the forests or the ground, looking for birds and curious shells. At night we camped on the shores. Here we made fires,.cooked supper, and setting one sentinel, the rest went to bed and slept like men who had done one good day’s work. I slept myself as unconcerned as if I had been in my own father’s house. “The next day I was up early, and roused my partner two hours before sunrise, and we began to move the boat at about one mile an hour against the current. We had a sail on board, but the wind was ahead, and we made ten miles that day. We made our fires, and I lay down to sleep again in my buffalo robes. Two more days of similar toil followed, when the weather became severe, and our patrom ordered us to go into winter quarters, in the great bend of the Tawapatee Bottom. “The sorrows of my partner at this dismal event were too great to be described. Wrapped in his blanket, like a squirrel in winter quarters with his tail about his nose, he slept and dreamed away his time, being seldom seen except at meals. “There was not a white man’s cabin within twenty miles, and that over a river we could not cross. We cut down trees and made a winter camp. But a new field was opened to me, and I rambled through the deep forests, and soon became acquainted with the Indian trails and the lakes in the neighbourhood. The Indians have the instinct or sagacity to discover an en- campment of white men almost as quickly as vultures sight the 30 LIFE OF AUDUBON. carcass of a dead animal; and I was not long in meeting strol- ling natives in the woods, They gradually accumulated, and before a week had passed great numbers of these unfortunate beings were around us, chiefly Osages and Shawnees. The former were well-formed, athletic, and robust men, of a noble aspect, and kept aloof from the others. They hunted nothing but large game, and the few elks and buffaloes that remained in the country. The latter had been more in contact with the whites, were much inferior, and killed opossums and wild tur- keys for a subsistence. The Osages being a new race to me, I went often to their camp, to study their character and habits ; but found much difficulty in becoming acquainted with them. They spoke no French, and only a few words of English, and their general demeanour proved them to be a nobler race. Yet they were delighted to see me draw, and when I made a tolerable likeness of one of them with red chalk, they cried out with astonishment, and laughed excessively. They stood the cold much better than the Shawnees, and were much more expert with bows and arrows. “The bones we threw around our camp attracted many wolves, and afforded us much sport in hunting them. Here I passed six weeks pleasantly, investigating the habits of wild deer, bears, cougars, racoons, and turkeys, and many other animals, and I drew more or less by the side of our great camp- fire every day; and no one can have an idea of what a good fire is who has never seen a camp-fire in the woods of America. Imagine four or five ash-trees, three feet in diameter and sixty feet long, cut and piled up, with all their limbs and branches, ten feet high, and then a fire kindled on the top with brush and dry leaves; and then under the smoke the party lies down and goes to sleep. “Here our bread gave out; and after using the breast of wild turkeys for bread, and bear’s grease for butter, and eating opossum and bear’s meat until our stomachs revolted, it was decided that a Kentuckian named Pope, our clerk, and a good. woodsman, should go with me to the nearest settlement and try and bring some Indian meal. On the way we saw a herd of deer, and turned aside to shoot one; and having done go, and marked the place, we continued our journey. We walked LIFE IN THE WOODS. 31 until dusk, and no river appeared. Just then I noticed an Indian trail, which we supposed led to the river; and after following it a short distance, entered the camp we had left in the morning. My partner, finding that we had no wheaten loaves in our hands, and no bags of meal on our backs, said we were boobies; the boatmen laughed, the Indians joined the chorus, and we ate some cold racoon, and stumbled into our buffalo robes, and were soon enjoying our sleep. “The next day we tried it again, going directly across the bend, suffering neither the flocks of turkeys nor the droves of deer we saw to turn us aside until we had Cape Girardeau in full sight an hour before the setting of the sun. The ice was running swiftly in the river, and we hailed in vain, for no small boat dare put out. An old abandoned log-house stood on our bank, and we took lodgings there for the night; we made a little fire, ate a little dried bear’s meat we had brought, and slept com- fortably. “ What a different life from the one I am leading now; and that night I wrote in my journal exactly as I do now; and I recollect well that I gathered more information that evening respecting the roasting of prairie-hens than I had ever done before or since. Daylight returned fair an1 frosty, the trees covered with snow and icicles, shining like jewels as the sun rose on them; and the wild turkeys seemed so dazzled by their brilliancy, that they allowed us to pass under them without flying. “ After a time we saw a canoe picking its way through the running ice. Through the messenger who came in the boat we obtained, after waiting nearly all day, a barrel of flour, several ’ bags of Indian meal, and a few loaves of bread. Having rolled the flour to a safe place, slung the meal in a tree, and thrust our gun barrels through the loaves of bread, we started for our camp, and reached it not long after midnight. Four men were sent the next morning with axes to make a sledge, and drag the provisions over the snow to the camp. “The river, which had been constantly slowly rising, now began to fall, and prepared new troubles for us; for as the water fell the ice clung to the shore, and we were forced to keep the boat afloat to unload the cargo. This, with the help of all the Indian men and women, took two days. We then cut large © 32 LIFE OF AUDUBON. trees, and fastened them to the shore above the boat, so as to secure it from the ice which was accumulating, and to save the boat from being cut by it. We were now indeed in winter quarters, and we made the best of it. The Indians made baskets of cane, Mr. Pope played on the violin, I accompanied with the flute, the men danced to the tunes, and the squaws looked on and laughed, and the hunters smoked their pipes with such serenity as only Indians can, and I never regretted one day spent there. ; “While our time went pleasantly enough, a sudden and startling catastrophe threatened us without warning. The ice began to break, and our boat was in instant danger of being cut to pieces by the ice-floes, or swamped by their pressure. Housed from our sleep, we rushed down pell-mell to the bank, as if attacked by savages, and discovered the ice was breaking up rapidly. It split with reports like those of heavy artillery; and as the water had suddenly risen from an overflow of the Ohio, the two streams seemed to rush against each other with violence, in consequence of which the congealed mass was broken into large fragments, some of which rose nearly erect here and there, and again fell with thundering crash, as the wounded whale, when in the agonies of death, springs up with furious force, and again plunges into the foaming waters. To our surprise, the weather, which in the evening had been calm and frosty, had become wet and blowy. The water gushed from the fissures formed in the ice, and the prospect was extremely dismal. When day dawned, a spectacle strange and fearful presented itself: the whole mass of water was violently agitated ; its covering was broken into small fragments, and although not a foot of space was without ice, not a step could the most daring have ventured to make upon it. Our boat was in imminent danger, for the trees which had been placed to guard it from the ice were cut or broken into pieces, and were thrust against her. It was impossible to move her; but our pilot ordered every man to bring down great bunches of cane, which were lashed along her sides; and before these were destroyed by the ice, she was afloat, and riding above it. While we were gazing on the scene, a tremendous crash was heard, which seemed to have taken place about a mile below, when suddenly the great ARRIVAL AT ST. GENEVIEVE, 83 dam of ice gave way. The current of the Mississippi had forced its way against that of the Ohio; and in less than four hours we witnessed the complete breaking up of the ice. “ During that winter the ice was so thick, the patrom said we _ might venture to start. The cargo was soon on board, and the camp given up to the Indians, after bidding mutual adieus, as when brothers part. The navigation was now of the most dangerous kind ; the boat was pushed by long poles on the ice, and against the bottom when it could be touched, and we moved extremely slowly. The ice was higher than our heads, and I frequently thought, that if a sudden thaw should take place we should be in great peril; but fortunately all this was escaped, and we reached safely the famous cape. “But the village was small, and no market for us, and we determined to push up to St. Genevieve, and once more were in motion between the ice. We arrived in a few days at the grand tower, where an immense rock in the stream makes the navigation dangerous. Here we used our cordellas, and with great difficulty and peril passed it safely. It was near this famous tower of granite that I first saw the great eagle that I have named after our good and great General Washington. The weather continued favourable, and we arrived in safety at St. Geneviéve, and found a favourable market. Our whisky was especially welcome, and what we had paid twenty-five cents a gallon for, brought us two dollars. St. Genevieve was then an old French town, twenty miles below St. Louis, not so large as dirty, and I was not half so pleased with the time spent there as with that spent in the Tawapatee Bottom. Here I met with the Frenchman who accompanied Lewis and Clark to the Rocky Mountains. They had just returned, and I was delighted to learn from them many particulars of their interesting journey.” 34 LIFE OF AUDUBON. CHAPTER VIII. AUDUBON FINDS St. GENEVIBVE UNsvITABLE—RETURN JOURNEY TO HENDER- SONVILLE—'l'ERRIBLE ADVENTURE ON THE Prairnig—Narrow EscaPe FROM ASSASSINATION—REGULATOR Law IN THE West—TuHt SHOOTING or Mason—Lynenine a Rogur—EartTHquakes IN Kentrucxy—aA 'TER- RIFIED Horse—A MarriaGe Party in A PuigHt—A Frantic Doctor. AUDUBON soon discovered that St. Genevitve was no pleasant place to live in. Its population were mostly low-bred French Canadians, for whose company, notwithstanding certain national sympathies, he had no liking. He wearied to be back at Hendersonville beside his young wife. Rosier got married at St. Geneviéve, and to him Audubon sold his interest in the business. The naturalist purchased a horse, bade adieu to his partner, to the society of St. Geneviéve, and started homeward across the country. During this journey Audubon met with a terrible ad- venture, and made a miraculous escape from impending death. This episode in Audubon’s life is related by him in the following words :— “On my return from the upper Mississippi, I found myself obliged to cross one of the wide prairies, which, in that portion of the United States, vary the appearance of the country. The weather was fine, all around me was as fresh and blooming as if it had just issued from the bosom of nature. My knapsack, my gun, and my dog, were all I had for baggage and company. But, although well moccasined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the brilliancy of the flowers, and the gambols of the fawns around their dams, to all appearance as thoughtless of danger as I felt myself. TERRIBLE ADVENTURE. 35 “My march was of long duration. I saw the sun sinking beneath the horizon long before I could perceive any appear- ance of woodlands, and nothing in the shape of man had I met with that day. The track which I followed was only an old Indian trail, and as darkness overshadowed the prairie, I felt some desire to reach at least a copse, in which I might lie down to rest. The night-hawks were skimming over and around me, attracted by the buzzing wings of the beetles which form their food, and the distant howling of the wolves gave me some hope that I should soon arrive at the skirts of some woodland. “T did so, and almost at the same instant a fire-light attract- ing my eye, I moved towards it, full of confidence that it proceeded from the camp of some wandering Indians. I was mistaken. I discovered by its glare that it was from the hearth of a small log cabin, and that a tall figure passed and repassed between it and me, as if busily engaged in household arrange- ments. “T reached the spot, and presenting myself at the door, asked the tall figure, which proved to be a woman, if I might take shelter under her roof for the night? Her voice was gruff, and her dress negligently thrown about her. She answered in the affirmative. I walked in, took a wooden stool, and quietly seated myself by the fire. The next object that attracted my notice was a finely-formed young Indian, resting his head between his hands, with his elbows on his knees.