ee erento’. Mago Smithsonian Institution Libraries — Alexander Wetmore 194.6 Sixth Secretary 19 53 OF JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, THE NATURALIST. Epitrep By His Wipow. WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY JAS. GRANT WILSON. NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM & SONS, FOURTH AVENUB AND TWENTY-THIRD STREET. 1870. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, MRS. JOHN J. AUDUBON, In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. THE TROW & SMITH BOOK MANUFACTURING COMPANY 46, 48, 50 Greene Street, N. Y. han TO MY KIND FRIEND, z ” ay Guy. JAMES GRANT WILSON, if THIS VOLUME Is DEDICATED BY LUCY AUDUBON. Ss ae Si e hey * 4 Ax _ wal a ape a ‘ \\ * é & TEN re Osp Us Cer LON. In the summer of 1867, the widow of John James Audubon, completed with the aid of a friend, a memoir of the great natu- ralist, and soon after received overtures from a London pub- lishing house for her work. Accepting their proposition for its publication in England, Mrs. Audubon forwarded the MSS., consisting in good part of extracts from her husband’s journals and episodes, as he termed his delightful reminiscences of adventure in various parts of the New World. The London publishers pl ced these MSS. in the hands of Mr. Robert Buchanan, who prepared from them a single volume contain- ing about one fifth of the original manuscript. The following pages are substantially the recently published work, reproduced with some additions, and the omission of several objectionable passages inserted by the London ed- itor. Should Mrs. Audubon hereafter receive her manuscript, containing sufficient material for four velumes of printed mat- ter, and including many charming episodes “born from his traveling thigh,” as Ben Jonson quaintly expressed it, the American public may confidently look forward to other volumes, uniform with this one, of the Naturalist’s writings. I do not deem it necessary to say aught in commenda- tion of the labors of the loving and gentle wife in preparing the following admirable memoir of her grand and large-hearted husband, — “That cheerful one, who knoweth all The songs of all the winged choristers, And in one sequence of melodious sound, Pours out their music.” Her delightful volume will better speak for itself. Nor do I deem it requisite to dwell at length on the works of ° 1V Introduction. Audubon, pronounced by Baron Cuvier to be “the most splen- did monuments which art has erected in honor of ornithology. ” He was an admirable specimen of the Hero as a man of science. To quote an eloquent writer: ‘ For sixty years or more he followed, with more than religious devotion, a beautiful and elevated pursuit, enlarging its boundaries by his discov- eries, and illustrating its objects by his art. In all climates and in all weathers ; scorched by burning suns, drenched by piercing rains, frozen by the fiercest colds ; now diving fear- lessly into the densest forest, now wandering alone over the most savage regions ; in perils, in difficulties, and in doubts ; with no companion to cheer his way, far from the smiles and applause of society ; listening only to the sweet music of birds, or to the sweeter music of his own thoughts, he faithfully kept his path. The records of man’s life contain few robler ex- amples of strength of purpose and indefatigable energy. Led on solely by his pure, lofty, kindling enthusiasm, no thirst for wealth, no desire of distinction, no restless ambition of ec- centric character, could have induced him to undergo as many sacrifices, or sustained him under so many trials. Higher principles and worthier motives alone enabled him to meet such discouragements and accomplish such miracles of achievement. He has enlarged and enriched the domains of a pleasing and useful science ; he has revealed to us the ex- istence of many species of birds before unknown; he has given us more accurate information of the forms and _ habits of those that were known; he has corrected the blunders of his predecessors ; and he has imparted to the study of natu- ral history the grace and fascination of romance.” Of the man himself, Christopher North said, after speak- ing lovingly and appreciatively of him, “ He is the greatest Artist in his own walk, that ever lived,” The love of his vo- cation, after innumerable trials, successes and disappointments gave the lie to the Quo ft Macenas of Horace, and was to the end of his long life most intense. Neither his friends, Sir Wal- ter Scott, or John Wilson, notably happy as they were in their home relations occupied a place in the domestic circle of hus- band and father, with a more beautiful display of kind, enno- bling, and generous devotion, than John James Audubon ; and DSI Introduction. Vv nothing in his whole character stands out ina purer and more honorable light, than his discharge of all the duties of home. In private life his virtues endeared him to a large circle of devoted admirers ; his sprightly conversation, with a slight French accent ; his soft and gentle voice ; his frank and fine face, ‘“ aye gat him friends inilka place.” With those whose privilege it was to know the Naturalist, so full of fine enthusi- asm and intelligence ; with so much simplicity of character, frankness and genius, he will continue to live in their memories, though ‘‘ with the buried gone ;”’ while to the artistic, litera- ry, and scientific world, he has left an imperishable name that is not in the keeping of history alone. Long after the bronze statue of the naturalist that we hope soon to see erected in the Central Park, shall have been wasted and worn beyond recognition, by the winds and rains of Heaven; while the towering and snow-covered peak of the Rocky Mountains known as Mount Audubon, shall rear its lofty head among the clouds ; while the little wren chirps about our homes, and the robin and reed-bird sing in the green meadows ; while the melody of the mocking-bird is heard in the cypress swamps of Louisiana, or the shrill scream of the eagle on the frozen shores of the Northern seas, the name of John James Audu- bon, the gifted Artist, the ardent lover of Nature, and the admirable writer, will live in the hearts of his gratefui coun- trymen. _ In the preface to the London edition of this work, I find the following just and generous werds :— ** Audubon was a man of genius, with the courage of a lion and the simplicity of a child. One scarcely knows which toadmire most—the mighty determination which enabled him to carry out his great work in the face of difficulties so huge, or the gentle and guileless sweetness with which he through- out 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 thor- ough the confidence. Mrs. Audubon appears to have been a wife in every respect worthy of such a man; willing to sacri- fice her personal comfort at any moment for the furtherance of his great schemes ; ever ready with kiss and counsel when <0 vil Introduction. such were most needed ; never failing for a moment in her faith that Audubon was destined to be one of the great work- ers of the earth. “ The man’s heart was restless ; otherwise he would never have achieved so much. He must wander, he must vagabon- dize, he must acquire ; he was never quite easy at the hearth. His love for Nature was passionate indeed, pursuing in all re- gions, burning in him to the last. Among the most touch- ing things in the diary, are the brief exclamations of joy when something in the strange city—a flock of wildducks overhead in London, a gathering of pigeons on the trees of Paris—re- minds him of the wild lifeof wood and plain. He was boy-like to the last, glorying most when out of doors. “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 si- lent, for the world has already settled those merits in full. I may trust myself, however, to say one word in praise of Au- dubon 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 care- ful coloring, as anything I have ever read.” en Ce Nee 51 St. Mark’s Place, New York, April, 1869. OD COND EEN Ts: CHAPTER I. Audubon’s Ancestry — His Childhood — First Visit to America— The Bakewell Family — Aspirations —Youthful Recollections— A Marvellous Escape. : - : 5 : : II CHAPTER II. Result of Audubon’s Voyage to France — Renewal of Bird-hunting Pursuits—Return to America. : : : : : 23 CHAPTER III. Return of Mrs. Audubon to her Father’s House — Audubon and Rosier move to Hendersonville. . : : . : 34 CHAPTER IV. Return Journey to Hendersonville — Terrible Adventure on the Prairie — Starts in Business at Hendersonville, and Succeeds — Commences to draw Portraits. . : ; 6 46 CHAPTER V. Rambles in Kentucky — Daniel Boone, the Famous Hunter. 59 Cis Ok Audubon leaves Cincinnati with Captain Cummings — Arrival at Natchez — Departure for New Orleans — Arrival at New Or- leans — Want of Success — Vanderlyn, the Painter — Audu- bon leaves New Orleans for Kentucky — Return to New Or- leans — Review of Work done since leaving Home... 74 CHAPTER VLE: Wife and Sons arrive at New Orleans — Difficulties of Obtaining a Livelihood — Audubon’s Arrival at Natchez — Audubon stud- Vill Contents. ies Oil Painting — Visit to Bayou Sara— Leaves for Louis: ville with his son Victor — Wanderings through the Wilds— Residence at Louisville — The Waste of Waters — The Flood- ecdBHorest.un é c 5 : . a : 6 88 CHAPTER VIII. Audubon reaches Philadelphia— Introduction to Sully the Painter — Meetings with Rosier and Joseph Mason — Audubon leaves Philadelphia — Arrival at New York— Leaves New York, and arrives at Albany— Visit to Niagara— A Voyage down the Ohio to the South — Arrival at Cincinnati— Turns Dan- cing-master. : ° A ° A : 5 4 100 CHAPTER IX. Audubon Sails from New Orleans for England on board the Delos — Incidents of the Voyage — Arrival at Liverpool — Visit to Manchester — Opening of Subscription-book for great work — Edinburgh -— Drawings exhibited at the Royal Institution. 118 CHAP TH Rox. Edinburgh— The Royal Society — Scott— Edinburgh People — ~ Sydney Smith and a Sermon— Miss O’Neill the Actress — Mrs. Grant of Laggan — Prospectus of the Great Work. 135 CEIAP TER xa. Provincial Canvass for Subscribers — Visit to London— The Great Work in Progress — Horrors of London. . 4 : 149 CHAPTER XII. Visit to Paris — Baron Cuvier — Reception at the Academy of Sci- ences — Farewell to France. . ° : 5 161 CHAPTER XIII. Return to London—Sets Sail for America— Friends in New York. 5 : 2 c 3 H 5 é - 1dI CHAPTER XIV. The Meeting with his Wife and Sons — Return with his Wif to England — Provincial Canvass — East Florida. . ° 197 CHAPTER XV. Floridian Episodes — The Live Oakers. . 5 2 235 Contents. 1x CHAPTER XVII. Third Florida Episode: Spring Garden. . ° 5 228 CHAPTER XVIII. Fifth Florida Episode: Deer Hunting. : é : : 235 CHAPTER XIX. Sixth Florida Episode: Sandy Island. “ 6 4 243 CHAPTER XX. Seventh Florida Episode: The Wreckers. . . . 249 CHAPTER XXI. Eighth Florida Episode: The Turtlers. . : : 4 257 CHAPTER XXII. Ninth Florida Episode: Death of a Pirate. : 5 ° 267 CHAPTER XXIII. In America: Episode in New Brunswick. : : - 274 CHAPTER XXIV, Episode in Maine: The Maine Lumbermen, ; : : 281 CHAPTER XXYV. Visit to the Bay of Fundy. 2 0 : : : —not so much. ‘There, go ahead and give us a light. What’s that? who’s there? Ah! you young rascals! you’ve played us a trick, have you? It’s all well enough, but now, just keep behind or I'll Aa 6 fact, the boys with eyes good enough to sce in the dark, although not quite so well as an owl, had cut directly across to the dogs, which had surprised a racoon on the ground, and bayed it, until the lads knocked it on the head. ‘Seek him, boys!” cries the hunter. The dogs, putting their noses to the ground, pushed off at a good rate. ‘Master, they’re making for the creek,’ says old To- by. On towards it therefore we push. What woods, to be sure! We are now in a low flat covered with beech trees. “The racoon was discovered swimming in a pool. The glare of the lighted torch was doubtless distressing to him; his coat was ruffled, and his rounded tail seemed thrice its ordinary size; his eyes shone like emeralds ; with foaming jaws he watched the dogs, ready to seize each by the snout if it came within reach. They kept him busy for some minutes ; the water became thick with mud ; his coat now hung dripping, and his draggled tail lay floating on the surface. His guttural growlings, in place of intimidating his assailants, excited them the more, and they very unceremoniously closed upon him. One seized him by the rump and tugged, but was soon forced to let go ; another stuck to his side, but soon tak- ing a better-directed bite of his muzzle, the coon’s fate was sealed. He was knocked on the head, and Toby re- marks, ‘ That’s another half dollar’s worth,’ as he handles the thick fur of the prey. The dogs are again found look- ing up into a tree and barking furiously. The hunters employ their axes, and send the chips about. ; Racoon-Hunting. 67 “The tree began to crack, and slowly leaning to one side, the heavy mass swung rustling through the air, and fell to the earth with a crash. It was not one coon that was surprised here, but three, one of which, more crafty than the rest, leaped from the top while the tree was stag- gering. The other two stuck to the hollow of a branch, from which they were soon driven by one of the dogs. Tyke and Lion having nosed the cunning old one, scam- pered after him. He is brought to bay, and a rifle bullet is sent through his head. The other two are secured after a desperate conflict, and the hunters with their bags full, return to the cabin.” While resident in Kentucky, Audubon was visited by the eccentric naturalist, Rafinesque, whose manner of life, dress, and oddities of conduct appear to have greatly amused even one so little attentive to formalities as the ornithologist. The stranger reached the banks of the Ohio in a boat, and carrying on his back a bundle of plants which resembled dried clover. He accidentally addressed Audubon, and asked where the naturalist lived. Audubon introduced himself, and was handed a letter of introduction by the stranger, in which the writer begged to recommend “an odd fish,’ which might not have been described in published treatises. Audubon innocently asked where the odd fish was, which led to a pleasant explanation and a complete understanding be- tween the two naturalists. “T presented my learned guest to my family,” writes Audubon, “and was ordering a servant to go to the boat for my friend’s luggage, when he told me he had none but what he brought on his back. He then loosened the pack of weeds which had first drawn my attention. The naturalist pulled off his shoes, and while engaged in draw- ing his stockings down to hide the holes in his heels, he explained that his apparel had suffered from his journey.” 68 Life of Audubon. This eccentric’s habits were neither tidy nor cleanly He would hardly perform needful ablutions, and refused a change of clean clothing, suggested as being more com- fortable. “His attire,” remarks Audubon, “struck me as exceedingly remarkable. A long loose coat of yellow nankeen, much the worse for the many rubs it had got in its time, and stained all over with the juice of plants, hune loosely about him like a sack. A waistcoat of the same, with enormous pockets, and buttoned up to the chin, reached below over a pair of tight pantaloons, the lower part of which were buttoned down to the ankles. His beard was as long as I have known my own to be during some of my peregrinations, and his lank black hair hung loosely over his shoulders. His forehead was so broad and prominent that any tyro in phrenology would instant- ly have pronounced it the residence of a mind of strong powers. His words impressed an assurance of rigid truth, and as he directed the conversation to the study of the natural sciences, I listened to him with great delight. He requested to see my drawings, anxious to see the plants I had introduced besides the birds I had drawn. Finding a strange plant among my drawings, he denied its authenticity ; but on my assuring him that it grew in the neighborhood, he insisted on going off instantly to see it. “When I pointed it out the naturalist lost all com- mand over his feelings, and behaved like a maniac in ex- pressing his delight. He plucked the plants one after another, danced, hugged me in his arms, and exultingly told me he had got, not merely a new species, but a new genus. ; “He immediately took notes of all the needful par- ticulars of the plant in‘ a note-book, which he carried wrapt in a waterproof covering. After a day’s pursuit of natural history studies, the stranger was accommodated The Cane-Brake. 69 with a bed-room. We had all retired to rest ; every per son I imagined was in deep slumber save myself, when of a sudden I heard a great uproar in the naturalist’s room. I got up, reached the place in a few moments, and opened the door ; when, to my astonishment, I saw my guest run- ning naked, holding the handle of my favorite violin, the body of which he had battered to pieces against the walls in attempting to kill the bats which had entered by the open window, probably attracted by the insects flying around his candle. I stood amazed, but he continued jumping and running round and round, until he was fairly exhausted, when he begged me to procure one of the animals for him, as he felt convinced they belonged to a ‘new species.’ Although I was convinced of the contrary, I took up the bow of my demolished Cremona, and administering a smart tap to each of the bats as it came up, soon got specimens enough. ‘The war ended, I again bade him good-night, but could not help observ- ing the state of the room. It was strewed with plants, which had been previously arranged with care. “He saw my regret for the havoc that had been created, but added that he would soon put his plants to rights—after he had secured his new specimens of bats. Rafinesque had great anxiety to be shown a cane-brake, plenty of which were to be found in the neighborhood. The cane-brake is composed of a dense growth of canes, measuring twenty or thirty feet in height, and packed so closely that a man’s body requires to be forced between the shafts of the canes. An undergrowth of plants and trailing climbers further prevents progression, which has to be accelerated by pushing the back between the canes. Game of all sorts frequent the cane-brakes, in which trav- elling is rendered disagreeably exciting by the presence of bears, panthers, snakes, and serpents. The cane- brakes are sometimes set fire to, and the water collected 7O Life of Audubon. in the separate joints explodes like a shell. The con- stant fusilade occasioned by such explosions in the midst of a conflagration has occasioned the flight of parties not conversant with the cause, and who believed that the In- dians were advancing with volleys of musketry. I had determined that my companion should view a cane-brake in all its perfection, and leading him several miles in a direct course, came upon as fine a sample as existed in that part of the country. We entered, and for some time proceeded without much difficulty, as I led the way, and cut.down the canes which were most likely to incommode him. The difficulties gradually increased, so that we were presently obliged to turn our backs and push our way through. After a while we chanced to come upon the top of a fallen tree, which so obstructed our passage, that we were on the eve of going round, instead of thrust- ing ourselves through amongst the branches ; when from — its bed, in the centre of the tangled mass, forth rushed a bear with such force, that my friend became terror struck, and in his haste to escape made a desperate attempt to run, but fell amongst the canes in such a way that he was completely jammed. I could not refrain from laughing at the ridiculous exhibition he made, but my gaiety how- ever was not very pleasing to the discomfited naturalist. A thunder-storm-with a deluge of rain completed our ex- perience of the cane-brake, and my friend begged to be taken out. This could only be accomplished by crawl- ing in a serpentine manner out of the jungle, from which _ the eccentric naturalist was delighted to escape, perfectly overcome with fatigue and fear. The eccentric was more than gratified with the exploit, and soon after left my abode without explanation or farewell. A letter of thanks, however, showed that he had enjoyed the hospi- tality, and was not wanting in gratitude.” In his Kentucky rambles Audubon had more than Daniel Boone. 71 One opportunity of seeing and hunting with the famous Colonel Boone, the Kentucky hunter, and hero of a mul- titude of desperate adventures. Ona particular occasion Boone spent a night under Audubon’s roof, and related some of his adventures, among others, the following. On a hunting expedition in which Boone was engaged, the wanderer was afraid of Indians, and he consequently damped out his fire before falling asleep. He had not lain long before strong hands were laid upon him, and he was dragged off to the Indian camp. Avoiding every semblance of fear, Boone neither spoke nor resisted. The Indians ransacked his pockets, found his whisky flask, and commenced to drink from it. While so en- gaged a shot was fired, and the male savages went off in pursuit, while the squaws were left to watch the prisoner. Rolling himself towards the fire, Boone burnt the fasten- ings which bound him, sprang to his feet, and after hack- ing three notches in an ash tree, afterwards known as “Boone’s Ash,” fled from the neighborhood. In years after, an engineer in Kentucky made the ash a point for a survey. 9 Bee A CHAPTER XX VIL. Labrador Episodes: The Eggers of Labrador. s\HE distinctive appellation of ‘eggers’ is given to certain persons who follow principally or ex- f=2=08! clusively the avocation of procuring eggs of wild tine with the view of disposing of them at some distant port. Their great object is to plunder every nest, when- ever they can find it, no matter where, and at whatever risk. ‘They are the pest of the feathered tribes, and their brutal propensity to destroy the poor creatures after they have robbed them is abundantly gratified whenever an opportunity presents itself. Much had been said to me respecting these destructive pirates before I visited the coast of Labrador, but I could not entirely credit al their cruelties until I had actually witnessed their pro ceedings, which were such as to inspire no small degree _of horror. But you shall judge for yourself. “See yon shallop shyly sailing along; she sneaks like a thief, wishing, as it were, to shun the very light of heaven. Under the lee of every rocky isle some one at the tiller steers her course. “Were his trade an honest one he mond not think of hiding his back behind the terrific rocks that seem to have been placed there as a resort to the myriads of birds that annually visit this desolate region of the earth for the purpose of rearing their young at a distance from al] disturbers of their peace. How unlike the open, bold, the honest mariner, whose face needs no mask, who scorns to skulk under any circumstances! ‘The vessel herself is a shabby thing; her sails are patched with stolen pieces of better canvas, the owners of which have 318 Life of Audubon. probably been stranded on some inhospitable coast, and have been plundered, perhaps murdered, by the wretches before us. Look at her again. Her sides are neither painted nor even pitched; no, they are daubed over, plastered and patched with stripes of seal-skins, laid along the seams. Her deck has never been washed or sanded, her hold, for she has no cabin, though at present empty, sends forth an odor pestilential as that of a char- nel-house. The crew, eight in number, lie sleeping at the foot of their tottering mast, regardless of the repairs needed in every part of her rigging. But see! she scuds along, and, as I suspect her crew to be bent on the com- mission of some evil deed, let us follow her to the first harbor. ‘There rides the filthy thing! The afternoon is half over. Her crew have thrown their boat overboard ; they enter and seat themselves, one with a rusty gun.. One of them sculls the skiff towards an island, for a cen- tury past the breeding-place of myriads of guillemots, which are now to be laid under contribution. At the ap- proach of the vile thieves, clouds of birds rise from the rock and fill the air around, wheeling and screaming over their enemies ; yet thousands remain in an erect posture, each covering its single egg, the hope of both parents. The reports of several muskets loaded with heavy shot are now heard, while several dead and wound- ed birds fall heavily on the rock or into the water. In- stantly all the sitting birds rise and fly off affrighted to their companions above, and hover in dismay over their assassins, who walk forward exultingly, and with their shouts mingling oaths and execrations. Look at them! See how they crush the chick within its shell! how they trample on every egg in their way with their huge and clumsy boots! Onwards they go, and when they leave the isle not an egg that they can find is left entire. The dead birds they collect and carry to their boat. Now —SE— The Eggers of Labrador. 319 they have regained their filthy shallop, they strip the birds by a single jerk of their feathery apparel, while the flesh is yet warm, and throw them on some coals, where in a short time they are broiled: the rum is produced when the guillemots are fit for eating, and after stuffing themselves with this oily fare, and enjoying the pleas- ures of beastly intoxication, over they tumble on the deck of their crazed craft, where they pass the short hours of night in turbid slumber. The sun now rises above the snow-clad summit of the eastern mount ; ‘sweet is the breath of morn,’ even in this desolate land. The gay bunting erects his white crest, and gives utter- ance to the joy he feels in the presence of his brooding mate ; the willow grouse on the rock crows his challenge aloud ; each floweret, chilled by the night air, expands its pure petals ; the gentle breeze shakes from the blades of grass the heavy dewdrops. On the Guillemot Isle the birds have again settled, and now renew their loves. Startled by the light of day, one of the eggers springs on his feet, and rouses his companions, who stare around them for awhile, endeavoring to recollect their senses. Mark them, as with clumsy fingers they clear their drowsy eyes; slowly they rise on their feet. See how the iubbers stretch out their arms and yawn ; you shrink back, for verily ‘ that throat might frighten a shark.’ But the master, soon recollecting that so many eggs are worth a dollar or a crown, casts his eye towards the rock, marks the day in his memory, and gives orders to depart. The light breeze enables them to reach another harbor, a few miles distant ; one which, like the last, lies con cealed from the ocean by some other rocky isle. Ar- rived there, they react the scene of yesterday, crushing every egg they can find. For a week each night is pass- ed in drunkenness and _ brawls, until, having reached the last breeding place on the coast, they return, touch at 320 Life of Audubon. every isle in succession, shoot as many birds as they need, collect the fresh eggs, and lay in a cargo. At every step each ruffian picks up an egg, so beautiful that any man with a feeling heart would pause to consider the. motive which could induce him to carry it off. But noth- ing of this sort occurs to the egger, who gathers and gathers until he has swept the rock bare. ‘The dollars alone chink in his sordid mind, and he assiduously plies the trade which no man would ply who had the talents and industry to procure subsistence by honorable means. With a bark nearly filled with fresh eggs they proceed to the principal rock, that on which they first landed. But what is their surprise when they find others there helping themselves as industriously as they can! In boiling rage they charge their guns, and ply their oars. Landing on the rock, they run up to the eggers, who, like themselves, are desperadoes. The first question is a discharge of musketry ; the answer another: now, man to man, they fight like tigers. One is carried to his craft with a frac- tured skull, another limps with a shot in his leg, and a third feels how many of his teeth have been driven through the hole in his cheek. At last, however, the quarrel is settled, the booty is to be equally divided ; and now see them all drinking together. Oaths and curses and filthy jokes are all that you hear ; but see! stuffed with food, and reeling with drink, down they drop, one by one ; groans and execrations from the wounded mingle with the snorings of the heavy sleepers. ‘There let the brutes lie! Again it is dawn, but no one stirs. The surf is high ; one by one they open their heavy eyes, stretch their limbs, yawn and raise themselves from the deck. But see a goodly company. A hundred honest fisher- men, who for months past have fed on salt meat, have felt a desire to procure some eggs. Gallantly their boats advance, impelled by the regular pull of their long oars. Fishermen's Quarrels. 321 Each buoyant bark displays the flag of its nation. No weapon do they bring, nor anything that can be used as such, save their oars and fists. Cleanly clad in Sunday attire, they arrive at the desired spot, and at once pre- pare to ascend the rock. ‘The eggers, now numbering a dozen, all armed with guns and bludgeons, bid defiance to the fishermen. A few angry words pass between the parties. One of the eggers, still under the influence of drink, pulls his trigger, and an unfortunate sailor is seen to reel in agony. ‘Three loud cheers fill the air. All at once rush on the malefactors: a horrid fight ensues, the result of which is that every egger is left on the rock beaten and bruised. ‘Too frequently the fishermen man their boats, row to the shallops, and break every egg in the hold. The eggers of Labrador not only rob the birds in this cruel manner, but also the fishermen, when- ever they can find an opportunity ; and the quarrels they excite are numberless. While we were on the coast none of our party ever ventured on any of the islands, which these wretches call their own, without being well pro- vided with means of defence. On one occasion when I was present we found two eggers at their work of destruc- tion. I spoke to them respecting my visit, and offered them premiums for rare birds and some of their eggs ; but although they made fair promises, not one of the gang ever came near the Ripley. These people gather all the eider-down they can find, yet, so inconsiderate are they, that they kill every bird that comes in their way. The puffins and some other birds they massacre in vast num- bers for the sake of their feathers. The eggs of gulls, guillemots, and ducks are searched for with care also. So constant and persevering are their depredations, that these species, which, according to the accounts of the few settlers I saw in the country, were exceedingly abun- dant twenty years ago, have abandoned their ancient 14* 322 Life of Audubon. breeding-places, and removed much farther north, in search of peaceful security. Scarcely, in fact, could J procure 'a young guillemot before the eggers had left the coast, nor was it until late in July that I succeeded, after the birds had laid three or four eggs each instead of one, and when nature having been exhausted, and the season nearly spent, thousands of these birds left the country without having accomplished the purpose for which they had visited it. This war of extermination cannot last many years more. The eggers themselves will be the first to repent the entire disappearance of the myriads of birds that made the coast of Labrador their summer resi- dence, and unless they follow the persecuted tribes to the northward they must renounce their trade.” GHAPTETS JSIX Notes in Labrador—Indians—Civilities on Board the Quebec Cutter— The Fur Company—Severe Weather—Winds and Rais:—Excur- sions on Shore—Hut of a Labrador Seal-Catcher—Great Maca- tine Islands—Offcers Bivouac Ashore. 4) UNE 23. We met here two large boats loaded ay with Mountaineer Indians, about twenty, old x and young, male and female. The boats had small canoes lashed to their sides, like whale boats, for seal fishing. The men were stout and good-looking, and spoke tolerable French; their skins were redder and clearer than any other Indians I have ever seen. The women also appeared cleaner than usual, their hair was braided, and dangled over their shoulders, like so many short ropes. They were all dressed in European cos- tumes except their feet, on which coarse moccasins made of seal skin supplied the place of shoes. “ On leaving the harbor this morning, we saw a black man-of-war-like looking vessel entering it, bearing the English flag; it proved to be the Quebec cutter. I wrote a note to the commander, sent him my card, and requested an interview. He proved to be Captain Bay- field of the Royal Navy, the vessel was the Gulnare, and he replied that he would receive me in two hours. After dinner, taking some credentials in my pocket, I went aboard of the Gulnare, was politely received, and intro- duced to the surgeon, who seemed a man of ability, and is a student of botany and conchology. ‘Thus the lovers of nature meet everywhere, but surely I did not expect to 324 Life of Audubon. meet a naturalist on the Labrador station. The first lieutenant is a student of ornithology, and is making col- lections. I showed a letter from the Duke of Sussex to the captain, and after a pleasant hour, and a promise’ from him to do anything in his power to aid us, I return- ed to our vessel. “ Yune 24. It was our intention to leave this harbor to-day for one fifty miles east, but the wind is ahead, and I have drawn all day. Shattuck and I took a walk over the dreary hills towards evening, and we found several flowers in bloom, among which was a small species of the Kulnua Glauca. We visited the camp of the Moun- taineer Indians about half a mile from us, and found them skinning seals, and preparing their flesh for use. We saw a robe the size of a good blanket made of seal skin, and tanned so soft and beautiful with the hair on, that it was as pleasant to the touch as a fine kid glove. ‘They refused to sell it. The chief of this party is well informed, talks French so as to be understood, is a fine- looking fellow, about forty years old, and has a good- looking wife and baby. His brother also is married, and has several sons between fourteen and twenty. The whole group consists of about twenty persons. They came and saluted us soon after we landed, and to my as- tonishment offered us a glass of rum. ‘The women were all seated. outside of their tents, unpacking bundles of clothing and provisions. We entered one tent, and seit- ed ourselves before a blazing fire, the smoke of which escaped through the top of the apartment. To the many questions I put to the.chief and his brother, the following is the substance of his answers. “The country from this place to the nearest settle- ment of the Hudson Bay Company is as barren and rocky as this about us. Very large lakes of water abound two hundred miles inland from the sea: these lakes con- . — ES ————- Extermination of Animals. Bes tain carp, trout, white. fish, and many mussels unfit to eat ; the latter are described as black outside and purple within, and are no doubt ‘unios.’ Not a bush is to be met with ; and the Indians who now and then cross that region carry their tent-poles with them, and also their canoes, and burn moss for fuel. So tedious is the trav- elling said to be, that not more than ten miles a day can be accomplished, and when the journey is made in two months, it is considered a good one. Wolves and black bears abound, but no deer nor caraboos are seen, and not a bird of any kind except wild geese and brants about the lakes, where they breed. When the journey is undertaken in winter, they go on snow shoes, without canoes. Fur animals are scarce, but a few beavers and otters, martins and sables, are caught, and some foxes and lynxes, while their numbers yearly diminish. Thus the Fur Company may be called the exterminating medium of these wild and almost uninhabitable regions, which cu- pidity or the love of money alone would induce man to venture into. Where can I now go and find nature un- disturbed ? “ Fune 25. Drawing all day until five o’clock, when I went to dine on board the Gulnare ; quite a bore to shave and dress in Labrador. The company consisted of the captain, doctor, and three other officers ; we had a good sea dinner, cod and mutton, good wine and some excellent snuff, of which I took a pinch or two. Conver- sation turned on Botany, politics, and the Established Church of England, and ranged away to hatching eggs by steam. I saw the maps the officers are making of the coast, and was struck with the great accuracy of the shape of our perfect harbor. [ returned to our vessel at ten in the evening ; the weather is warm, and the mos- quitoes abundant and hungry. “ Fune 26. We have now been waiting five days for 326 Life of Audubon. a fair wind to take us eastward in our explorations. The waters of all the streams we have seen are of a rusty col- or, probably derived from the decomposing mosses which form the soil on the rocks. The rivers seem to be the drain from swamps fed by rain and melting snow ; the soil in the low grounds is of quite a peaty nature. ‘The freshets take down sand and gravel from the decom- posed rocks, and form bars at the mouths of all the rivers. Below the mouth of each stream is the best fish- ing ground for cod fish. They accumulate there to feed on the fry which run into the rivers to deposit their spawn, and which they follow again to sea, when they return to strike out into deep water. “Tt is quite remarkable how shy the agents of the Fur Company here are of strangers. They refused to sell me a salmon: and one of them told me he would be discharged if it were known he had done so. They evade all questions respecting the interior of the country, and indeed tell the most absurd things, to shock you, and cut short inquiries This is probably to prevent stran- gers from settling here, or interfering with their monop- oly.” Much of the journal of these dates in Labrador is taken up with an account of the birds, and nests, and eggs found here, and matters relating to ornithology. But as these notes were used by Mr. Audubon in compi- ling his “ Biographies of the Birds,” we have omitted them here, and used only that part of the records which have a more general interest. “ Yune 27. The morning dawned above rain and fogs, which so enveloped us below that we could scarcely dis- cern the shore, distant only a hundred yards. Drawing all day. “ Yune 28. The weather shocking, rainy, foggy, dark, and cold. Began drawing a new finch I discovered, and — P At Sea. 307 outlined another. At twelve the wind suddenly changed, and caused such a swell and rolling of the vessel, that I had to give up my drawing. After dinner the wind hauled to the south-west, and all was bustle, heaving up anchor, loosing sails, and getting ready forsea. We were soon under weight and went out of the harbor in good style ; but the sea was high, and we were glad to go to our beds. “ Fune 29. At three o’clock this morning we were about fifteen miles from land, and fifty from American Harbor. The thermometer was 54°, and the wind light and favorable ; at ten the breeze freshened, but our pilot did not know the land, and the captain had to find a har- bor for himself. We passed near an island covered with foolish guillemots, and came to for the purpose of landing on it, which we did through a great surf; there we found two eggers searching the rocks for eggs. ‘They told us they visited all the islands in the vicinity, and obtained fresh eggs every day. They had eight hundred dozen, and expected to increase them to two thousand dozen before they returned to Halifax. The quantities of bro- ken eggs on this and all the islands where eggs are obtained, causes a stench which is scarcely endurable. From this island we went to another about a mile distant, and caught many birds and collected many eggs. “ Fune 30. I have drawn three birds to-day since eight o’clock. ‘Thermometer 50°. “ Fuly 1. The thermometer 48°, and the weather so cold that it has been painful for me to draw, but I worked all day. “ Fuly 2. A beautiful day for Labrador. Went ashore and killed nothing, but was pleased with what I saw. The country is so grandly wild and desolate, that I am charmed by its wonderful dreariness. Its mossy gray- clad rocks, heaped and thrown together in huge masses, 323 Life of Audubon. hanging on smaller ones, as if about to roll down from their insecure resting-places into the sea below them. Bays without end, sprinkled with thousands of rocky inlets of all sizes, shapes, and appearances, and wild birds everywhere, was the scene presented before me. Besides this there was a peculiar cast of the uncertain sky, butterflies flitting over snow-banks, and probing un- folding dwarf flowerets of many hues, pushing out their tender stems through the thick beds of moss which every- where covers the granite rock. ‘Then there is the morass, wherein you plunge up to your knees, or the walking over the stubborn, dwarfish shrubbery, whereby one treads down the forests of Labrador ; and the unexpected bunt- ing or sylvia which perchance, and indeed as if by chance alone, you now and then see flying before you, or hear singing from the ground creeping plant. The beautiful fresh-water lakes, deposited on the rugged crests of great- ly elevated islands, wherein the red and black divers swim as proudly as swans do in other latitudes ; and wherein the fish appear to have been cast as strayed be- ings from the surplus food of the sea. — All, all is wonder- fully wild and grand, ay, terrific. And yet how beautiful it is now, when your eye sees the wild bee, moving from one fiower to another in search of food, which doubtless is as sweet to her as the essence of the orange and mag- nolia is to her more favored sister in Louisiana. The little ring-plover rearing its delicate and tender young ; the eider duck swimming man-of-war-like amid her float- ing brood, like the guard-ship of a most valuable convoy ; the white-crowned bunting’s sonorous note reaching your ears ever and anon ; the crowds of sea-birds in search of places wherein to repose or to feed. I say how beautiful all this, in this wonderful rocky desert at this season, the beginning of July, compared with the horrid blasts of winter which here predominate by the will of God ; when | Rough Weather. 329 every rock is hidden beneath snow so deep, that every step the traveller takes, he is in danger of falling in his grave ; while avalanches threaten him from above, and if he lifts his eyes to the horizon, he sees nothing but dark clouds filled with frost and snow, and inspiring him with a feeling of despair. “ ¥uly 3. We have had a stiff easterly wind all day, rainy, and the water so rough we could not go ashore, for plants to draw, until late in the afternoon. The view of the sea from the highest rocks was grand, the small islands were covered with the foam and surf thrown up by the agitated ocean. Thank God that we are not tossing on its billows. “ ¥uly 4. Two parties went out to-day to get birds and plants, and I remained on board all day drawing. Cap- tain Bayfield sent us a quarter of mutton for our fourth of July dinner, and I dare say it is a rarity on this coast of Labrador, even on this day. “ Suly 5. Thermometer 50°. I drew from four o’clock this morning until three this afternoon, and then went on an expedition for a few miles to a large rough island, which I traversed until I was weary, for walking on this spongy moss of Labrador is a task no one can imagine without trying it ; at every step the foot sinks in a deep moss cushion, which closes over it, and requires consid- erab!e exertion to draw it up. Whenthe moss is over a marshy tract, then you sink a couple of feet deep every step you take, and to reach a bare rock is delightful, and quite a relief. This afternoon the country looked more terrifyingly wild than ever, the dark clouds throwing their shadows on the stupendous masses of rugged rocks, pre- sented one of the wildest pictures of nature that the eye can find to look on anywhere. “« Fuly 6. Thermometer 48°. At noon my fingers were so cold that I could no longer hold my pencil te Bae) Life of Audubon. draw, and I was compelled to go on shore for exercise. The fact is I am growing old too fast, alas! I feel it, and yet work I will, and may God grant me life to see the last plate of my mammoth work finished. “ Yuly 7. Drawing all day ; finished the female grouse and five young ones, and preparing the male bird. “ ¥uly 8. Rainy, dirty weather, wind east, thermome- ter 48°. Began drawing at half-past three a.m, but my condition very disagreeable in such weather. ‘The fog collects and falls in large drops from the rigging on my table, and now and then I am obliged to close the sky- light, and work almost in darkness. Notwithstanding, I have finished my plate of the cock ptarmigan. “ Yuly 9. The wind east, wet, disagreeable, and foggy. This is the most wonderful climate in the world ; the thermometer 52°, mosquitoes in profusion, plants bloom- ing by millions, and at every step you tread on flowers such as would be looked on in more temperate climates with pleasure. I only wish*I could describe plants as well as I can the habits of birds. I have drawn all day on the loon, a most difficult bird to imitate. “ ¥uly 10. Thermometer 54°. Could I describe one of those dismal gales which blow ever and anon over this dismal country, it would probably be interesting to any one unacquainted with the inclemency of this climate. Nowhere else are the north-east blasts, which sweep over Labrador, felt as they are here. But I cannot describe them. All I can say is, that while we are safe in a land- locked harbor, their effects on our vessel are so strong, that they will not allow me to draw, and sometimes send some of us to our beds. And what the force of these horrid blasts outside of the harbor at sea is I can hardly imagine ; but it seems as if it would be impossible for any vessel to ride safely before them, and that they will rend these rocky islands asunder. ‘The rain is driven in sheets, Effects of the Storm. oan and falls with difficulty upon its destination of sea or land Nay, I cannot call it rain, as it is such a thick cloud of water, that all objects at a distance are lost sight of at intervals of three or four minutes, and the waters around us come up and beat about in our rock-bound harbor, as a newly caught and caged bird beats against the wire walls of his prison cage. “ ¥uly 11. The gale or hurricane of yesterday subsi- ded about midnight, and at sunrise this morning the sky was clear and the horizon fiery red. It was my inten- tion to have gone one hundred miles further north, but our captain says I must be content here. “On rambling over the numerous bays and inlets, which are scattered by thousands along this coast, as pebbles are on a common sand beach, one sees immense beds of round stones (boulders ?) of all sizes, and some of large dimensions, rolled side by side, and piled up in heaps, as if cast there by some great revolution of nature. I have seen many such places, and always look on them with astonishment, because they seem to have been vom- ited up by the sea, and cast hundreds of yards inland, by its powerful retchings ; and this gives some idea of what a hurricane at Labrador can do. . “ %uly 12. Thermometer 48°, and it is raining hard, and blowing another gale from the east, and the vessel rocks so much that I am unable to finish my drawing. “ ¥uly 13. Rose this morning at half-past three, and found the wind north-east, and but little of it. The weather is cloudy and dull, as it is always here after a storm. I was anxious to stay on board, and finish the drawing of a grouse I had promised to Dr. Kelly of the Gulnare, But at seven the wind changed, and we pre- pared to leave our fine harbor. We beat out to sea, and made our course for the harbor of Little Macatine, dis- tant forty-three miles. By noon the wind died away, but 332 Life of Audubon. the sea rolled, and we were all sea-sick, and glad to go to our berths. “ Fuly 14. Awoke this morning to find a cold north- east wind blowing, and ourselves twenty miles from our destination, a heavy sea beating against the vessel’s bows, as she is slowly beating tack after tack against the wind. We are in despair of reaching our destination to-day. Towards evening however the wind favored us, and as we approached the island, it proved the highest land we have seen, and looked rugged and horrid. “When we came within a mile and ahalf of the shore we took a small boat, and pushed off for the land. As we came near it, the rocks appeared stupendously high and rough, and frowned down on our little boat, as we moved along and doubled the little cape which made one side of the entrance of Macatine’s Harbor, but it looked so small to me, that I doubted if it were the place ; and the shores were horribly wild, fearfully high and rough, and nothing but the croaking of a pair of ravens was heard mingling with the dismal sound of the surge which dashed on the rocky ledges, and sent the foaming water into the air. “ By the time we reached the shore the wind began to freshen, the Ripley’s sails now swelled, and she cut her way through the water, and rounded the point of land which formed part of the harbor, and shot ahead towards the place where we were standing. Our harbor repre- sents the bottom of a large bowl, in the centre of which our vessel is anchored, surrounded by rocks full a thou- sand feet high, and the wildest looking place I was ever in. We went aboard, ate a hasty supper, and all scam- pered ashore again, and climbed the nearest hills. But John, Shattuck, and myself went up the harbor, and as- cended to the top of a mountain (for I cannot call it a hill), and there we saw the crest of the island beneath our Macatine Harhor. 333 feet, all rocks, barren, bare rocks, wild as the wildest Apennines. The moss was only a few inches deep, and the soil beneath it so moist, that whenever the declivities were much inclined, the whole slipped from under us like an avalanche, and down we would slide for feet, and sometimes yards. The labor of climbing was excessive, and at the bottom of each ravine the scrub bushes inter- cepted us for twenty or thirty paces, and we scrambled over them with great effort and fatigue. On our return we made one slide of forty or fifty feet, and brought up in a little valley or pit filled with moss and mire. “ ¥uly 15. We rose and breakfasted at three o’clock, every one being eager to go ashore and explore this wild country. But the wind was east, and the prospects of fine weather not good. But two boats’ crews of young men rowed off in different directions, while I renewed my drawing. By ten the rain poured, and the boats returned. “« ¥uly 16. Another day of dirty weather, and obliged to remain on board nearly all the day. Thermometer 52°, mosquitoes plenty. This evening the fog is so thick, that we cannot see the summit of the rocks around us. “ Fuly 17. Mosquitoes so annoyed me last night that I did not close my eyes. I tried the deck of the vessel, and although the fog was as thick as fine rain, the air was filled with these insects, and I went below and fought them until daylight, when I had a roaring fire made and got rid of them. Ihave been drawing part of the day, and besides several birds, I have outlined one of the mountainous hills near our vessel, as a back-ground to my willow grouse. “ Yuly 18. After breakfast, all hands except the cook left the Ripley, in three boats, to visit the main shore, about five miles off. The fog was thick, but the wind promised fair weather, and soon fulfilled its promise. Directly after landing our party found a large extent of oom Life of Audubon. marsh land, the first we have seen in this country ; the soil was wet, our feet sank in it, and walking was tire- some. We also crossed a large savannah of many miles in exter:t. Its mosses were so wet and spongy, that I never in my life before experienced so much difficulty in travelling. In many places the soil appeared to wave and bend under us like old ice in the spring of the year, and we expected at each step to break through the sur- face, and sink into the mire below. In the middle of this quagmire we met with a fine small grove of good-sized white birch trees, and a few pines full forty feet high, quite a novelty in this locality. “From the top of a high rock I obtained a good view of the most extensive and dreary wilderness I ever be- held. It chilled the heart to gaze on these barrens of Labrador. Indeed I now dread every change of harbor, so horridly rugged and dangerous is the whole coast and country to the eye, and to the experienced man either of the sea or the land. Mosquitoes, many species of horse- flies, small bees, and black gnats fill the air. The frogs croaked, and yet the thermometer was not above 55°. This is one of the real wonders of this extraordinary country. The parties in the boats, hunting all day, brought back but nineteen birds, and we all concluded that no one man could provide food for himself here from the land alone. “ Fuly 19. Cold, wet, blowing, and too much motion of the vessel for drawing. In the evening it cleared up a little, and I went ashore, and visited the hut of a seal- fisher. We climbed over one rocky precipice and fissure after another, holding on to the moss with both hands and feet, for about a mile, when we came to the deserted hut of a Labrador seal-catcher. It looked snug outside, and we walked in; it was floored with short slabs, all very well greased with seal oil. A fire-oven without a One Fine Day. 805 pipe, a salt-box hung to a wooden peg, a three-legged stool for a table, and wooden box for a bedstead, were all its furniture. An old flour-barrel, containing some hun- dreds of seine floats, and an old seal seine, comprised the assets of goods and chattels. Three small windows, with four panes of glass each, were still in pretty good order, and so was the low door, which swung on \vooden -hinges, for which I will be bound the maker had asked for no patent. The cabin was made of hewn logs, brought from the mainland, about twelve feet square, and well put together. It was roofed with birch bark and spruce, well thatched with moss a foot thick; every chink was crammed with moss, and every aperture render- ed air-tight with oakum. But it was deserted and aban- doned. The seals are all caught, and the sailors have nothing to do now-a-days. We found a pile of good hard wood close to the cabin, and this we hope to appro- priate to-morrow. I found out that the place had been inhabited by two Canadians, by the chalk marks on the walls, and their almanac on one of the logs ran thus: L 24, M 25, M 26, I 27, V 28, S.29, D 30, giving the first letter of the day of the week. On returning to the ves- sel, I stopped several times to look on the raging waves rolling in upon the precipitous rocks below us, and thought how dreadful it would be for any one to be wrecked on this inhospitable shore. The surges of surf which rolled in on the rocks were forty or fifty feet high where they dashed on the precipices beneath us, and any vessel cast ashore there must have been immediately dashed to pieces. “uly 20. The country of Labrador deserves credit for one fine day. ‘This has been, until evening, calm, warm, and really such a day as one might expect in the Middle States about the middle of May. I drew until ten o'clock, and then made a trip to the island next to us, 3 36 Life of Audubon. and shot several birds. We passed several small bays, where we found vast quantities of stones thrown up by the sea, and some of them of enormous size. I now think that these stones are brought from the sea on the thick drift ice, or icebergs, which come down from the arctic regions, and are driven in here and broken by the jagged rocks ; they are stranded, and melt, and leave these enormous pebbles in layers from ten to one hundred feet deep. “¥uly 21. I write now from a harbor which has no name, for we have mistaken it for the one we were look- ‘ing for, which lies two miles east of this. But it matters little, for the coast of Labrador is ali alike, comfortless, cold, and foggy. We left the Little Macatine this morning at five o’clock, with a stiff south-west breeze, and by ten dropped anchor where we now are. As we doubled the cape of the island called Great Macatine, we had the pleasure of meeting the officers of the Gulnare, in two boats, engaged in surveying the coast. We made an ex- cursion into the island, but found nothing of interest. “Tn the evening we visited the officers of the Gulnare, encamped in tents on shore, living in great comfort ; the tea-things were yet on the iron bedstead which served as a table, the trunks formed their seats, and the clothes- bags their cushions and pillows. Their tent was made of tarred cloth, which admitted neither wind nor rain. It was a comfortable camp, and we were pleased to find ourselves on the coast of Labrador in company with in- telligent officers of the royal navy of England, gentlemen of education and refined manners ; it was indeed a treat, a precious one. We talked of the wild country around us, and of the enormous destruction of everything which is going on here, except of the rocks ; of the aborigines, who are melting away before the encroachments of a stronger race, as the wild animals are disappearing before Whale Fishers. oe 7) J them. Some one said, it is rum which is destroying the poor Indians. I replied, I think not, they are disappear- ing here from insufficiency of food and physical comforts, and the loss of all hope, as he loses sight of all that was abundant before the white man came, intruded on _ his land, and his herds of wild animals, and deprived him of the furs with which he clothed himself. Nature herself is perishing. Labrador must shortly be depopulated, not only of her aboriginal men, but of every thing and ani- mal which has life, and attracts the cupidity of men. When her fish, and game, and birds are gone, she will be left alone like an old worn-out field.” “ Fuly 22. This morning Captain Bayfield and his officers came alongside to bid us good-bye, to pursue their labors further westward. After breakfast we manned three boats, and went to explore a small harbor about one mile east of our anchorage. ‘There we found a whal- ang schooner, fifty-five tons burthen, from Cape Gaspe. We found the men employed in boiling blubber in a large iron vessel like a sugar-boiler. The blubber lay in heaps on the shore, in junks of six or eight pounds each, look- ing filthy enough. The captain or owner of thes vessel appeared to be a good sensible man of his class, and cut off forme some strips of the whale’s skin from under the throat, with large and curious barnacles attached to the skin. They had struck four whales, and three had sunk, and were losttothem. This, the men said, was a very rare occurrence. We found, also, at this place, a French Canadian seal-catcher, from whom I gathered the follow- ing information. “This portion of Labrador is free to any one to settle on, and he and another person had erected a cabin, and had nets and traps to catch seals and foxes, and guns to shoot bears and wolves. They take their quarry to Que- bec, receiving fifty cents a gallon for seal oil, and from 15 338 Life of Audubon. three to five guineas for black and silverfox skins, and others in proportion. In the months of November and December, and indeed until spring, they kill seals in large numbers ; seventeen men belonging to their party killed twenty-five hundred seals once in three days. This great feat was done with short sticks, and each seal was killed with a single blow on the snout, whilst lying on the edges of the floating or fieldice. ‘The seals are carried home on sledges drawn by Esquimaux dogs, which are so well trained that, on reaching home, they push the seals from the sledges with their noses, and return to the kil- lers with regular despatch. (This, reader, is hearsay !) At other times the seals are driven into nets, one after another, until the poor animals become so hampered and confined, that they are easily and quickly dispatched with guns. ‘The captain showed me a spot, within a few yards of his log cabin, where last winter he caught six fine large silver-gray foxes. Bears and caraboos abound during winter, and also wolves, hares and porcupines. ‘The wolves are of a dun color, very ferocious and daring ; a pack of thirty followed a man to his cabin, and they have several times killed his dogs at his own door. I was surprised at this, because his dogs were as large as any wolves I have everseen. ‘These dogs are extremely trac- table,so much so that, when gearéd into a sledge, the leader immediately starts at the word of command for any given course, and the whole pack gallop off at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour. ‘The Esquimaux dogs howl ike wolves, and are not at all like our common dogs. They were extremely gentle, and came to us, and jumped on and caressed us as if we were old acquaintances. They do not take to the water, and are fit only for draught and the chase of caraboos ; and they are the only dogs which can at all near the caraboo while running. “ As soon as winter storms and thick ice close the Esquimaux Dogs. 339 harbors and the intermediate spaces between the main- land and the sea islands, the caraboos are seen moving on the ice in great herds, first to the islands, where the snow is most likely to be drifted, because there in in the shal- lows—from which the snow has blown away—he easily scrapes down to the mosses, which at this season are the only food they can find. As the severity of winter in- creases, these animals follow the coast northwest, and gradually reach a comparatively milder climate. But notwithstanding all this, on their return in the spring, which is as regular as the migration of the birds, they are so poor and emaciated, that the men take pity on them, and will not kill them. Merciful beings, these white men! ‘They spare-life when the flesh is off from their bones, and there is no market for their bones at hand. “The otter is tolerably abundant here. ‘These are chiefly trapped at the foot of the waterfalls, to which they resort, being the latest to freeze and the earliest to thaw in spring. A few martins and sables are caught, but every year reduces their number. ‘This Frenchman receives his supplies from Quebec, where he sends his furs and oil. The present time he calls ‘the idle season,’ and he loiters about his cabin, lies in the sunshine like a seal, eats, drinks, and sleeps his life away, careless of the busy world, and of all that is going on there. His partner h.s gone to Quebec, and his dogs are his on'y companions until he returns ;_ and the dogs, perhaps, are the better animal of thetwo. He has selected a delightful site for his castle, under the protection of an island, and on the south side, where I found the atmosphere quite warm, and the vegetation actually rank, for I saw plants with leaves twelve inches broad, and grasses three feet high. “This afternoon the wind has been blowing a tre- mendous gale, and our anchors have dragged with sixty fathoms of chain out. Yet one of the whaler’s boats 340 Life of Audubon. came with six men to pay us a visit. ‘They wished to see some of my drawings, and I gratified them; and in re- turn they promised to show me a whale before it was cut up, should they catch one before we leave this place for Bras d’Or. ° “ ¥uly 23. We visited to-day the seal establishment of a Scotchman, named Robertson, about six miles east of our anchorage. He received us politely, addressed me by name, and told me he had received information of my visit to this country through the English and Canadian newspapers. This man has resided here twenty years, and married a Labrador lady, the daughter of a Monsieur Chevalier of Bras d’Or ; has a family of six children, and a good-looking wife. He has a comfortable house, and a little garden, in which he raises a few turnips, potatoes, and other vegetables. He appeared to be lord ofall these parts, and quite contented with his lot. He toldme that his profits last year amounted to three thousand dollars. He does not trade with the Indians, of whom we saw about twenty of the Mountaineer tribe, and he has white men-servants. His seal-oil tubs were full, and he was then engaged in loading a schooner bound to Quebec. He complained of the American fishermen, and said they often acted as badly as pirates towards the Indians, the white settlers, and the eggers, all of whom have more than once retaliated, when bloody combats have followed. He assured me that he had seen a fisherman’s crew kill ticusands of guillemots in a day, pluck off their feathers, and throw their bodies into the sea. “Mr. Robertson also told me that, during milds win- ters, hic little harbor is covered with thousands of white culls, and that they all leave onthe appproach of spring. The travelling hereis altogether over the ice, which is covered with snow, and in sledges drawn by Esquimaux dcgs, of which this man keeps a famous pack. He often Esquimaux Dogs. 341 goes to Bras d’Or, seventy-five miles distant, with his wife and children on one sledge, drawn by ten dogs. Scarcely any travelling is done on land, the country is so_precipi- ‘ous and broken. Fifteen miles north of here he says there is a lake, represented by the Indians as four hun- dred miles long and one hundred broad, and that this sea-like lake is at times asrough as the ocean in a storm, It abounds with fish, and some water-birds resort there, and breed by millions along its margin. We have had a fine day, but Mr. R. says that the summer has been un- usually tempestuous. ‘The caraboo flies drove our hunt- — ers on board to-day, and they looked as bloody as if they had actually had a gouging fight with some rough Ken- tuckians. Here we found on this wonderful wild coast some newspapers from the United States, and received the latest intelligence from Boston to be had at Labra- dor.” “Fuly 24 and 25 were engaged in hunting birds and frawing, and contain much valuable information on ornithology, which is given in the “ Birds of America.” “ Fuly 26. We left our anchorage, and sailed with a fair wind to visit the Chevalier’s settlement, called Bonne Espérance, forty-seven miles distant. When we had gone two-thirds of the distance the wind failed us ; calms were followed by severe squalls, and a tremendous sea rolled, which threatened to shake our masts out. At eight o’ciock, however, we came abreast of the settlement, but as our pilot knew nothing of the harbor, the captain thought it prudent to stand off, and proceed on to Bras d’Or. The coast here, like all that we have seen before, was dotted with rocky islands of all sizes and forms, and against which the raging waves dashed in a frightful man- ner, making us shudder at the thought of the fate of the wretched mariners who might be thrown on them. “ Fuly 27. At daylight this morning we found our- 342 Life of Audubon. selves at the mouth of Bras d’Or Harbor, where we are now snugly moored. We hoisted our colors, and Cap- tain Billings, of American Harbor, came to us in his Hampton boat, and piloted us in. ‘This Bras d’Or is the grand rendezvous of almost all the fishermen, that resort to this coast for cod-fish ; and we found here a flotilla of one hundred and fifty sails, principally fore-and-aft schooners, and mostly from Halifax and the eastern parts of the United States. “There was a life and bustle in the harbor which surprised us, after so many weeks of wilderness and lone- liness along the rocky coast. Boats were moving to and fro over the whole bay, going after fish, and returning loaded to the gunwale ; some with seines, others with caplings, for bait, and a hundred or more anchored out about a mile from us, hauling the poor cod-fish by thou- sands, and hundreds of men engaged in cleaning and salting them, and enlivening their work with Billingsgate slang, and stories, and songs. “ As soon as breakfast was over we went ashore, and called on Mr. Jones, the owner of the seal-fishing estab- lishment here, a rough, brown-looking Nova-Scotia man, who received us well, and gave us considerable informa- tion respecting the birds which visit his neighborhood. This man has forty Esquimaux dogs, and he entertained us with an account of his travels with them in winter. They are harnessed with a leather collar, belly and back bands, through the upper part of which the line of seal- skin passes which is attached to the sledge, and it serves the double purpose of a rein and trace to draw with. An odd number of dogs is used for the gang employed in drawing the sledge, the number varying according to the distance to be travelled or the load to be carried. Each dog is estimated to carry two hundred pounds, and to travel with that load at the rate of five or six miles an Sledge Riding. 343 hour. The leader, which is always a well-broken dog, is placed ahead of the pack, with a draft line of from six to ten fathoms in length, and the rest with successively shorter ones, until they come to within eight feet of the sledge. They are not coupled, however, as they aie usually represented in engravings, but are attached each loose from all others, so that when they are in motion, travelling, they appear like a flock of partridges all flying loosely, and yet all the same course. They always travel in a gallop, no matter what the state of the country may be. Going down hill is most difficult and danger- ous, and at times it is necessary for the rider to guide the sledge with his feet, as boys steer their sleds sliding down hills, and sometimes it is done by long poles stuck into the snow. When the sledge is heavily laden, and the descent steep, the dogs are often taken off, and the vehicle made to slide down the precipice by the man alone, who lies flat on the sledge, and guides it with his toes from behind, as he descends head-foremost. The dogs are so well acquainted with the courses and places in the neighborhood, that they never fail to take their master and his sledge to the house where he wishes them to go, even should a severe snow-storm come on while they are on the journey ; and it is always safer for the rider at such times to trust to the instincts of the dogs, than to attempt to guide them by his own judgment. Cases have occurred where men have done this, and paid the penalty by freezing to death in a desolate wilderness. In such cases the faithful dogs, if left to themselves, make directly for their home. “When two travellers meet on a journey, it is neces- sary for both parties to come circuitously and slowly to- wards each other, and give the separate packs the oppor- tunity of observing that their masters are acquainted, or otherwise a fight might ensue between the dogs. Mr. 344 Life of Audubon. Jones lost a son, fourteen years of age, a few years ago ‘in the snow, in consequence of a servant imprudently turning the dogs from their course, thinking they were wrong. ‘The dogs obeyed the command, at took them towards Hudson’s Bay. When the weather cleared the servant found his mistake ; but, alas! it was too late for the tender boy, and he froze to death in the servant’s arms. “We saw also to-day the carcasses of fifteen hundred seals stripped of their skins, piled up in a heap, and the dogs feeding on them. ‘The stench filled the air for half a mile around. ‘They tell us the dogs feed on this filthy flesh until the next seal season, tearing it piecemeal when frozen in winter. “Mr. Jones’s house was ae painted white, his oil- tubs were full, and the whole establishment was perfumed with odors which were not agreeable to my olfactory nerves. ‘The snow is to be seen in large patches on every hill around us, while the borders of the water- courses are fringed with grasses and weeds as rank as any to be found in the Middle States in like situations. I saw a small brook with fine trout, but what pleased me more was to find the nest of the shore-lark ; it was em- bedded in moss, so exactly the Color of the bird, that when the mother sat on it, it was impossible to distin- guish her. We see Newfoundland in the distance, look- ing like high mountains, whose summits are far above the clouds at present. Two weeks since the harbor where we now are was an ice-field, and not a vessel could approach it ; since then the ice has sunk, and none is to be seen far or near. “ Fuly 28. A tremendous gale has blown all day, and I have been drawing. The captain and the rest of our company went off in the storm to visit Blanc Sablons, four miles distant. The fishermen have corrupted the ‘ The Fuligula Fusca. B45 French name into the English of “ Nancy Belong.” To: wards evening the storm abated, and although it is now almost calm, the sea runs high, and the Ripley rolls in a way which makes our suppers rest unquietly in our stomachs. We have tried in vain to get some Esquimaux mocassins and robes ; and we also asked to hire one of them, to act as a guide for thirty or forty miles into the interior. The chief said his son might go, a boy of twenty-three, but he would have to ask his mother, as she was always fearing some accident to her darling. This darling son looked more like a brute than a Christian man, and was so daring, that he would not venture on our journey. “We proceeded over the table-lands towards some ponds, and I found three young shore-larks just out of the nest, and not yet able to fly. They hopped about pretty briskly over the moss, uttering a soft fecp, to which - the parent birds responded at every call. They were about a week old, and I am glad that I shall now have it in my power to make a figure of these birds in sum- mer, winter, and young plumage. We also found the breeding-place of the Fuligula Histrionica, in the corner of a small pond in some low bushes. The parent bird was so shy, that we could not obtain her. In another pond we found the nest also of the velvet duck, called here white-winged coot (Fuligula Fusca) ; it was placed on the moss, among the grass, close to the edge of the water, and contained feathers, but no down, as others do. The female had six young, five of which were secured. They were about one week old, and I could readily dis- tinguish the male birds from the females, the former all exhibiting the white spot under the eye. They were black and hairy (not downy) all over except under the chin, where a patch of white showed itself. They swam swiftly and beautifully, and when we drove them into a pee 346 Life of Audubon. ies narrow place, for the purpose of getting them on land and catching them alive, they turned about face and dived most beautifully, and made their way towards the mid- dle of the pond, where four were shot at one discharge. Another went on shore and squatted in the grass, where Lincoln caught it : but I begged for its life, and we left it to the care of its mother and of the Maker! ‘The mother showed all imaginable anxiety, and called to her young all the while she remained in the pond, with a short squeaking note by no means unpleasant, “ ¥uly 29. Bras d’Or. Another horrid stormy day ; the fishermen complain, although five or six left the har- bor for further east ; and I wish them joy, but for my part I wish I was further westward. Our party of young men went off this morning early to a place called Port Eau, eighteen miles distant, to try to buy some Esqui- maux mocassins and dresses. ‘They will not come back till to-morrow, and I was glad when the boat returned, as I was sure they were on terra firma. I feel quite lone- some on account of their absence, for when ali are on board we have lively times, with music, and stories, and jokes, and journalizing. But J have amused myself draw- ing three young shore-larks, the first ever portrayed by man. “These birds are just now beginning to congregate, by associating their families together; even those of which the young are scarcely able to fly fifty yards are urging the latter to follow the flock ; so much for short seasons here. In one month all these birds must leave this coast or begin to suffer. The young of many birds are now fledged, and scamper over the rocks about us, amid the stinking drying cod-fish, with all the sprightli- ness of youth. The young ravens are out, and fly in flocks with their parents also; and the young of almost all the land birds are full fledged. The ducks alone An Iceberg Crushed. 347 seem to me to be backward in their growth, but being more hardy, they can stand the rigidity of the climate until the month of October, when the deep snows drive them off, ready or not, for their toilsome journey. “The water of our harbor is actually covered with oil, and the bottom fairly covered with the offal of cod- fish, so that I feel as if smelling and breathing an air impregnated with the esser ce of cod-fish. “ Fuly 30. The morning was beautiful when I arose, but such a thing as a beautiful morning in this mournful country amounts almost to an unnatural phenomenon. The captain and myself visited Mr. Jones this afternoon. We found his wife a good motherly woman, who talked well, and gave us some milk ; she also promised us some fresh butter, and asked to see my drawings of the birds of this vicinity. “ At Port Eau our young men saw an iceberg of im- mense size. At that place there is a large fishing estab- lishment, having a store connected with it, belonging to fishermen who come yearly from the Island of Jersey. It is again blowing a young hurricane. “ Fuly 31. Another horrid hurricane, accompanied by heavy rain, and the vessel rolling so that I cannot go on with my drawing. — “ August 1. ‘The weather has quite changed, the wind blows from the south-west; it s dry, and I have used the time in drawing. At noon we were visited by an ice- berg, which was driven by the easterly wind and storm of yesterday to within three miles of us, and grounded at the entrance of the bay. It looks like a large man-of- war, dressed in light greenish muslin instead of canvas ; and when the sun shines on it it glitters most brilliantly. “ When these transient monuments of the sea happen to tumble or roll over, the fall is tremendous, and the sound produced resembles that of loud distant thunder. 348 Life of Audubon. These icebergs are common here all summer, being waft: ed from the lower end of the straits with every heavy easterly wind or gale. And as the winds generally pre- vail from the south and south-west, the coast of New- foundland ‘is more free from them than Labrador ; and the nayigation along the straits is generally performed along the coast of Newfoundland. My time and our days now weigh heavily on our hands ; nothing to be seen, nothing to be shot, therefore nothing to be drawn. I have now determined on a last thorough ransack of the mountain tops, and plains, and ponds, and if no suc- cess follows, to raise anchor and sail towards the United States once more ; and blessed will the day be when I land on those dear shores where all I Jong for in this world exists and lives, I hope. “ August 2. Thermometer 58° at noon. Thank God it has rained all day. I say thank God, though rain is no rarity, because it is the duty of every man to be thank- ful for whatever happens by the will of the Omnipotent Creator ; yet it was not so agreeable to any of my party as a fine day would have been. We had an arrival of a handsome schooner, called the Wizard, from Boston to- day, but she brought neither papers nor letters ; but we learned that all our great cities have a healthy season, and we thanked God for this. ‘The retrograde movement of many land and water birds has already commenced, especially of the lesser species. “ August 3. The Wizard broke her moorings and ran into us last night, causing much alarm but no injury. The iceberg of which I have spoken has been broken into a thousand pieces by the late gale, and now lies stranded along the coast. One such monster deposits hundreds of tons of rocks, and gravel, and boulders, and so explains the phenomena which I have before men: tioned as observable along the coast. The Birds Migrating. 349 “ August 4. It is wonderful how quickly every living thing in this region, whether animal or vegetable, attains its growth. In six weeks I have seen the eggs laid, the birds hatched, and their first moult half gone through ; their association into flocks begun, and preparations for leaving the country. “That the Creator should have ordered that millions of diminutive, tender creatures, should cross’ Spaces of country, in all appearance a thousand times more con- genial for all their purposes, to reach this poor, desolate, and deserted land, to people it, as it were, for a time, and to cause it to be enlivened with the songs of the sweetest of the feathered musicians, for onlytwomonths at most, and then, by the same extraordinary instinct, should cause them all to suddenly abandon the country, is as won- derful as it is beautiful and grand. “Six weeks ago this whole country was one sheet of ice ; the land was covered with snow, the air was filled with frost, and subject to incessant storms, and the whole country a mere mass of apparently useless matter. Now the grass is abundant, and of rich growth, the flowers are met with at every step, insects fill the air, and the. fruits are ripe. The sun shines, and its influence is as re- markable as it is beautiful ; the snow-banks appear as if about to melt, and here and there there is something of asummerish look. But in thirty days ail is over ; the dark northern clouds will come down on the mountains ; therivulets and pools, and the bays themselves, will begin to freeze ; weeks of snow-storms will follow, and change the whole covering of these shores and country, and Na- ture will assume not only a sleeping state, but one of des- olation and death. Wonderful! wonderful! But it re- quires an abler pen than mine to paint the picture of this all-wonderful country. “ 4ugust 5. This has been afine day! We have had 350 Life of Audubon. no new hurricane, aud I have finished the drawings of several new birds. It appears that northern birds come to maturity sooner than southern ones ; this is reversing the rule in the human species. The migration of birds is much more wonderful than that of fishes, because the lat- ter commonly go feeling their way along the shores, from one clime toanother, and return to the very same river, creek, or even hole, to deposit their spawn, as the birds do to their former nest or building-ground as long as they live. But the latter do not feel their way, but launching high in the air, go at once, and correctly, too, across im- mense tracts of country, seemingly indifferent to them, but at once stopping, and making their abode in special parts heretofore their own, by previous knowledge of the advantages and comforts which they have enjoyed, and which they know await them there. “ August to. I now sit down to post up my poor book, while a furious gale is blowing without. I have neglected to make daily records for some days, because I have been so constantly drawing, that when night came, I was too weary to wield my pen. Indeed, all my physical pow- ers have been taxed to weariness by this little work of drawing ; my neck and shoulders, and most of all my fingers, have ached from the fatigue ; and I have suffered more from this kind of exertion than from walking sixty- five miles in a day, which I once did. “To-day I have added one more new species to the ‘ Birds of America,’ the Labrador falcon ; and may we live to see its beautiful figure multiplied by Havell’s graver.” The journal gives a list of the names of one hundred and seventy-three skins of birds, which were obtained on the coast of Labrador by Audubon and his party on this expedition. The episode given in the following chapter seems to summarize Audubon’s observations of the in- habitants of Labrador. CATE eNO Labrador Episodes: The Squatters of Labrador. 70 where you will, if a shilling can there be pro- ”4| cured, you may expect to meet with individuals ) in search of it. In the course of last summer I met with several persons as well as families whom [ could not compare to anything else than what in America we understand by the appellation of squatters. The methods they employed to accumulate property form the subject of the observations which I now lay before you. Our schooner lay at anchor in a beautiful basin on the coast of Labrador, surrounded by uncouth granite rocks, partially covered with stunted vegetation. While search- ing for birds and other objects I chanced one morning to direct my eyes towards the pinnacle of a small island, separated from the mainland by a very narrow channel, and presently commenced inspecting it with my telescope. There I saw a man on his knees, with clasped hands, and face inclined heavenwards. Before him was a small mon- ument of unhewn stores supporting a wooden cross. In a word, reader, the person whom I thus unexpectedly dis- covered was engaged in prayer. Such an incident in that desolate land was affecting, for there one seldom finds traces of human beings, and the aid of the Almighty, al- though necessary everywhere, seems there peculiarly re- quired to enable them to procure the means of subsist- ence. My curiosity having been raised, I betook myself to my boat, landed on the rock, and scrambled to the B52 Life of Audubon. place, where I found the man still on his knees. When his devotions were concluded he bowed to me and ad- dressed me in very indifferent French. I asked why he had chosen so dreary a spot for his prayers. ‘ Because, answered he, ‘the sea lies before me, and from it I re: ceive my spring and summer sustenance. When winter approaches I pray fronting the mountains on the main, as at that period the caraboos come towards the shore and I kill them, feed on their flesh, and form my bedding of their skins.’ I thought the answer reasonable, and, as I longed to know more of him, followed him to his hut. It was low and very small, formed of stones plastered with mud to a considerable thickness. The roof was composed of a sort of thatching made of weeds and moss. A large Dutch stove filled nearly one half of the place ; a small port-hole, then stuffed with old rags, serv- ed at times instead of a window; the bed was a pile of deer-skins ; a bowl, a jug, and an iron pot were placed on a rude shelf; three old and rusty muskets, their locks fastened by thongs, stood in a corner ; and his buck-shot, powder, and flints were tied up in bags of skin. Eight Esquimaux dogs yelled and leaped about us. The strong smell that emanated from them, together with the smoke and filth of the apartment, rendered my stay in it very disagreeable. Being a native of France, the good man showed much politeness, and invited me to take some re- freshment, when, without waiting for my assent, he took up his bowl and went off I knew not whither. No sooner had he and his strange dogs disappeared, than I went out also to breathe the pure air and gaze on the wild and ma- jestic scenery around. I was struck with the extraordi- nary luxuriance of the plants and grasses that had sprung up on the scanty soil in the little valley which the squatter had chosen for his home. ‘Their stalks and broad blades reached my waist. June had come, and the flies, mos- Squatters in Labrador. 353 quitoes, and other insects filled the air, and were as trou- blesome to me as if I had been in a Florida swamp, The squatter returned, but he was ‘chopfallen ;’ nay, I thought his visage had assumed a cadaverous hue. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he told me that his barrel of rum had been stolen by the ‘eggers’ or some fishermen. He said that he had been in the habit of hiding it in the bushes to prevent its being carried away by those merci- less thieves, who must have watched him in some of his Jrequent walks to the spot. ‘ Now,’ said he, ‘I can ex- pect none till next spring, and God knows what will be- come of me in the winter.’ Pierre Jean Baptiste Michaux, “had resided in that part of the world for upwards of ten years ; he had run away from the fishing-smack that had brought him from his fair native land, and expected to become rich some day by the sale of his furs, skins, and eider-ducks’ down, seal-skins, and other articles which he collected yearly, and sold to the traders who regularly visited his dreary abode. He was of moderate stature, firmly framed, and as active as a wild cat.’ He told me that, excepting the loss of his rum, he had never experi- enced any other cause of sorrow, and that he felt as ‘happy as a lord.’ Before parting with this fortunate mortal, I inquired how his dogs managed to find sufficient food. ‘ Why, sir, during spring and summer they ramble along the shores, where they meet with abundance of dead fish, and in winter they eat the flesh of the seals which I kill late in the autumn, when these animals return from the north. As to myself, everything eatable is good, and when hard pushed, I assure you I can relish the fare of my dogs just as much as they do themselves.’ Pro- ceeding along the rugged indentations of the bay with my companions, I reached the settlement of another person, who, like the first, had come to Labrador with the view of making his fortune. We found him after many diffi- 354 Life of Audubon. culties ; but as our boats turned a long point jutting out into the bay we were pleased to see several small schoon- ers at anchor and one lying near a sort of wharf. Sever- al neat-looking houses enlivened the view, and on landing we were kindly greeted with a polite welcome from a man who proved to be the owner of the establishment. For the rude simplicity of him of the rum-cask we found here the manners and dress of a man of the world. A hand- some fur cap covered his dark brow, his clothes were sim- ilar to our own, and his demeanor was that of a gentle- man. On my giving him my name he shook me heartily by the hand, and on introducing each of my companions to him he addressed me as follows: ‘My dear sir, I have been expecting you these three weeks, having read in thé Papers your intention to visit Labrador, and some fisher- men told me of your arrival at Little Natashquan. Gen- tlemen, walk in.’ Having followed him to his neat and comfortable mansion, he introduced me to his wife and children. Of the latter there were six, all robust and rosy. ‘The lady, although a native of the country, was of French extraction, handsome, and sufficiently accomplish- ed to make an excellent companion to a gentleman. A smart girl brought us a luncheon, consisting of bread, cheese, and good port wine, to which, having rowed four- teen or fifteen miles that morning, we helped ourselves in a manner that seemed satisfactory to all parties. Our host gave us newspapers from different parts of the world, and showed us his small but choice collection of books. He inquired after the health of the amiable Captain Bayfield of the Royal Navy, and the officers un- der him, and hoped they would give him a ca]l. Having refreshed ourselves, we walked out with him, when he pointed to a very small garden where a few vegetables sprouted out anxious to see the sun. Gazing on the des- olate country around, I asked him how 4e had thus se- Squatters in Labrador. 355 eluded himself from fhe world. For zt he had no relish, and although he had received a liberal education and had mixed with society, he never intended to return to it. ‘The country round,’ said he, ‘is all my own much farther than you can see. No fees, no lawyers, no taxes are “ere. I do pretty much as I choose. My means are ample through my own industry. These vessels come here for seal-skins, seal oil, and salmon, and give me in return all the necessaries, and, indeed, comforts of the life I love to follow ; and what else could ¢he world afford me?’ I spoke of the education of his children. ‘My wife and I teach them all that is wsefu/ for them to know, and is not that enough? My girls will marry their countrymen, my sons the daughters of my weighdors, and I hope all of them will live and die in the country.’ I said no more, but by way of compensation for the trouble I had given him, purchased from his eldest child a beautiful fox-skin. Few birds, he said, came round in summer, but in winter thousands of ptarmigans were killed, as well as great numbers of gulls. He had a great (lislike to all fisher- men and eggers, and I really believe was always glad to see the departure of even the hardy navigators who an- nually visited him for the sake of his salmon, his seal- skins, and oil. He had more’than forty Esquimaux dogs ; and as I was caressing one of them he said, ‘Tell my brother-in-law at @ras-d’ Or that we are all well here, and that after visiting my wife’s father I will give him a call. “ Now, reader, his wife’s father resided at the distance of seventy miles down the coast, and like himself was a recluse. He of Bras-d’ Or was at double that distance ; But when the snows of winter have thickly covered the country, the whole family in sledges drawn by dogs travel with ease and pay their visits or leave their cards. This good gentleman had already resided there more than twenty years. Should he ever read this article, J desire 356 Life of Audubon. nim to believe that I shall always be grateful to him and his wife for their hospitable welcome. When our schoon- er, the Ripley, arrived at Bras-d’Or, I paid a visit to Mr. , the brother-in-law, who lived in a house im- ported from Quebec, which fronted the strait of Belle Lsé2, and overlooked a small island, over which the eye reach- ed the coast of Newfoundland whenever it was the wind’s pleasure to drive away the fogs that usually lay over both coasts. The gentleman and his wife, we were told, were both out on a walk, but would return in a very short time, which they in fact did, when we followed them into the house, which was yet unfinished. The usual immense Dutch stove formed the principal feature of the interior. The lady had once visited the metropolis of Canada, and seemed desirous of acting the part of a ‘blue stocking.’ Understanding that I knew something of the fine arts, she pointed to several of the vile prints hung on the bare walls, which she said were elegant Italian pictures, and continued her encomiums upon them, assuring me that she had purchased them from an Italian who had come there with a trunk full of them. She had paid a shilling sterling for each, frame included. I could give no answer to the good lady on this subject, but I felt glad to find that she possessed a feeling heart. One of her children had caught a séskiz, and was tormenting the poor bird, when she rose from her seat, took the little flutterer from the boy, kissed it, and gently launched it into the air. This made me quite forget the tattle about the fine arts. Some excellent milk was poured out for us in clean glasses. It was a pleasing sight, for not a cow had we yet seen in the country. The lady turned the conversa- tion on music, and asked if I played on any instrument. I answered that I did, but very indifferently. Her forte, she said, was music, of which she was indeed immoderately fond. Her instrument had been sent to Europe to be re- A Musical Instrument. 249 pa.zed, but would return that season, when the whole of her children would again perform many beautiful airs, for in fact anybody could use it with ease, as when she or the children felt fatigued the servant played on it for them. Rather surprised at the extraordinary powers of this fam- ily of musicians, I asked what sort of an instrument it was, when she described it as follows: ‘Gentlemen, my instrument is large, longer than broad, and stands on four legs like a table; at one end is a crooked handle, by turning which round either fast or slow I do assure you we make excellent music.’ The lips of my young friends and companions instantly curled, but a glance from me as instantly recomposed their features. Telling the fair one it must be a hand-organ she used, she laughingly said, ‘Oh, that is it, it is a hand-organ, but I had forgotten the name, and for the life of me could not recollect it.’ The husband had gone out to work, and was in the harbor caulking an old schooner. He dined with me on board the Ripley, and proved to be an excellent fellow. Like his brother-in-law, he had seen much of the world, having sailed nearly round it; and although no scholar, like him, too, he was disgusted with it. He held his land on the same footing as his neighbors, caught seals without num- ber, lived comfortably and happily, visited his father-in- law and the scholar by the aid of his dogs, of which he kept a great pack, bartered or sold his commodities as his relations did, and cared about nothing else in the world. Whenever the weather was fair he walked with his dame over the snow-covered rocks of the neighborhood, and during winter killed ptarmigans and caraboos, while his eldest son attended to the traps and skinned the animals caught by them. He had the only horse that was to be found in that part of the country, as well as several cows ; but, above all, he was kind to every one, and every one spoke well of him. The only disagreeable thing about 358 Life of Audubon. the plantation or settlement was a heap of fifteen hun- dred carcasses of skinned seals, which at the time when we visited the place, in the month of August, notwith- standing the coolness of the atmosphere, sent forth a stench that, according to the idea of some naturalists, might have sufficed to attract all the vultures in the Uni- ted States. During our stay at Bras-d’ Or the kind-heart- ed and good Mrs. daily sent us fresh milk and butter, for which we were denied the pleasure of making any return.” 4, wo D CHAPTER XXX. Notes on Labrador—Gulf of St. Lawrence—St. George’s Bay, News foundland—The Village—Fishermen and Women—Indian Wig- wams—Beating About at Sea—Land on Ruys Lsland—Wander- ings Overland—Pictou—Truro and the Bay of Fundy—Arrival at Halifax, Nova Scotia—Arrival at New Vork, and Calculation of Lxpenses. Fen VUGUST 11. Atsea, Gulf of St. Lawrence. Weare ii now fully fifty miles from the coast of Labrador. eaeees} Fresh water was taken on board, and all prepa- rations were made last evening, and this morning we bid adieu to the friends we had made at Labrador. “ Seldom in my life have I left a country with as little regret as this ; next in order would come East Florida, after my excursion up the St. John’s River. As we sailed away I saw probably for the last time the high and rug- ged hills, partly immersed in large banks of fog, that usu- ally hang over them. “ Now we are sailing before the wind in full sight of the south-west coast of Newfoundland, the mountains of which are high, spotted with drifted snow-banks, and cut horizontally with floating strata of fogs extending along the land as far as the eye can reach. ‘The sea is quite smooth, or else I have become a better sailor by this rough voyage. Although the weather is cloudy, it is such as promises in this region a fair night. Our young men are playing the violin and flute, and I am scribbling in my book. “Tt is worth telling that during the two months we have spent on the coast of Labrador, moving from one har- 360 Life of Audubon. bor to another, or from behind one rocky island to another, only three nights have been passed at sea. ‘Twenty-three - drawings have been commenced or finished, and now I am anxious to know if what remains of the voyage will prove as fruitful ; and only hope our Creator will permit us all to reach our friends in safety and find them well and happy. “ August 13. Harbor of St. George’s Bay, Newfound- land. By my dates you will see how long we were run- ning, as the sailors call it, from Labrador to this place, where we anchored at five this evening. Our voyage here was all in sight of, and indeed along the north-west side of Newfoundland ; the shores presenting the highest lands we have yet seen. In some places the views were highly picturesque and agreeable to the eye, although the appearance of vegetation was but little better than at Labrador. The wind was fair for two-thirds of the dis- tance, and drew gradually ahead and made us uncomfort- able. “This morning we entered the mouth of St. George’s Bay, which is about forty miles wide and fifty miles deep, and a more beautiful and ample basin cannot be found ; there is not a single obstruction within it. ‘The north- east shores are high and rocky, but the southern are san- dy, low, and flattish. It took us until five o’clock to as- cend it, when we came to anchor in sight of a small village, .the only one we have seen in two months ; and we are in a harbor with a clay bottom, and where fifty line-of- battle ships could snugly and safely ride. “The village is built on an elongated point of sand or sea wall, under which we now are, and is perfectly secure from all winds except the north-east. The coun- try on ascending the bay became gradually more woody and less rough in shape. The temperature changed quite suddenly this afternoon, and the weather was so St. George’s Bay. 361 mild that we found it agreeable lolling on deck, and it felt warm even to a southron like myself. Twenty-two degrees difference in temperature in two days is a very considerable change. “We found here several sail of vessels engaged in the fisheries, and an old hulk from Hull in England, called Charles Tennison, which was wrecked near here four years ago, on her way from Quebec to Hull. As we sailed up the bay two men boarded us from a small boat and assisted us as pilots. They had a half barrel of fine salmon, which I bought from them for ten dollars. As soon as we dropped anchor our young men went ashore to buy fresh provisions, but they returned with nothing but two bottles of milk, though the village contains two hundred inhabitants. Mackerel, and sharks of the man-eating kind, are said to be abundant here. Some signs of cultivation are to be seen across the harbor, and many huts of Michmaes Indians adorn the shores. We learn that the winters are not nearly as severe here as at Quebec, yet not far off I could see dots of snow of last year’s crop. Some persons say birds are plenty, others say there are none hereabouts. “The ice did not break up, so that this bay was not navigable until the 17th of May, and I feel confident that no one can enter the harbors of Labrador before the roth or middle of June. “ August 14. All ashore in search of birds, plants, and the usual et ceteras belonging to our vocations, but all had to return soon on account of a storm of wind and rain, showing that Newfoundland is cousin to Labrador - in this respect. We found the country quite rich however in comparison with the latter place ; all the vegetable pro- ductions are larger and more abundant. We saw a flock of house sparrows, all gay and singing, and on their pas- sage to the south-west.” 16 362 Life of Audubon. Audubon names about twenty different species of birds which he saw here; hares and caraboos are among the animals, and among the wild plants he found twe species of roses. “The women flew before us as if we were wild beasts, and one who had a pail of water, at sight of us, dropped it, and ran to hide herself ; another who was looking for a cow, on seeing us coming, ran into the woods, and after- wards crossed a stream waist deep to get home to her hut without passing us. We are told that no laws are admin- istered here, and to my surprise not a sign of a church exists. The people are all fishermen and live poorly ; in one enclosure I saw a few pretty good-looking cabbages. We can buy only milk and herrings, the latter ten cents a dozen ; we were asked eight dollars for a tolerable calf, but chickens were too scarce to beobtained. Two clear- ings across the bay are the only signs of cultivated land. Not a horse has yet made its way into the country, and not even a true Newfoundland dog, nothing but curs of a mixed breed. “Some of the buildings looked like miserable hovels, others more like habitable houses. Not a blacksmith’s shop here, and yet one would probably do well. ‘The customs of the people are partly Canadian and partly English. The women all wear cotton caps covering their . ears. The passage to and from our vessel to the shore was the roughest I ever made in an open boat, and we were completely soaked by the waves which dashed over us. “ August 15. We have had a beautiful day. This morning some Indians came alongside of our vessel with half a reindeer, a caraboo, and a hare of a species I had never seen before. We gave them twenty-one pounds of pork for forty-four pounds of venison, thirty-three pounds of bread for the caraboo, and a quarter of a dollar for the hare. ‘The Indians showed much cleverness in striking ‘ Newfoundland. 363 the bargain. I spent part of the day drawing, and then visited the wigwams of the Indians across the bay. We found them, as I expected, all lying down pell-mell in their wigwams, and a strong mixture of blood was per ceptible in their skins, shape, and deportment: some were almost white, and sorry I am to say, that the nearer they were to our nobler race the filthier and the lazier they were. The women and children were particularly disgusting in this respect. Some of the women were ma- king baskets, and others came in from collecting a fruit called here the baked apple (Audus chamenrous), and when burnt a little it tastes exactly like a roasted apple. The children were catching lobsters and eels, of which there are a great many in the bay, as there are in all the bays of the island, whilst at Labrador this shell-fish is very rare. The young Indians found them by wading to their knees in eel grass. “ We bargained with two of the hunters to go with our young men into the interior to hunt for caraboos, hares, and partridges, which they agreed to do for a dollar a day. The Indians cook lobsters by roasting them in a pile of brushwood, and eat them without any salt or other con- diment. The caraboos are at this date in ‘velvet,’ their skins are now light grey, and the flesh poor but tender. The average weight of this animal, when in good condi- tion, is four hundred pounds. In the early partof March they leave the hilly grounds, where no moss or any other food can be obtained, and resort to the shores of the sea to feed on kelp and other sea grasses cut up by the ice and cast up by the waves along the shore. Groups of several hundreds may be seen at one time thus feeding: their flesh here is not much esteemed ; it tastes like in- different, poor, but very tender venison. “ August 17. We should now be ploughing the deep had the wind been fair, but it has been ahead, and we 364 Life of Audubon. remain here zz statu guo. The truth is, we have deter- mined not to leave this harbor without a fair prospect of a good run, and then we shall trust to Providence after that. I have added a curious species of alder to my drawing of the white-winged cross-bill, and finished it. We received a visit from Mr., Mrs., and Miss Forest ; they brought us some salad and os butter, and in return we gave them a glass of wine and some raisins. The old lady and gen- tleman talked well ; he complained of the poverty of the country and the disadvantages #e experienced from the privileges granted to the French on this coast. They told me they were relatives of Lord Plunket, and that they were well acquainted with our friend Edward Harris and his family. I gave them my card, and showed them the Duke of Sussex’s letter, which they borrowed and took home to copy. I had also a visit from an old French- man who has resided on this famous island for fifty years. He assured me that no red Indians are now to be found ; the last he had heard of were seen twenty-two years ago. It is said that these natives give no quarter to anybody, but, after killing their foes, cut off their heads and leave their bodies to the wild beasts of the country. “Several flocks of golden-winged plovers passed over the bay this forenoon, and two lestris pomerania came in this evening. The ravens abound here, but no crows have yet been seen; the great tern are passing south by thousands, and a small flock of Canada geese were also seen. The young of the golden-crested wren were shot. A muscipcapa was killed, which is probably new. I bought seven Newfoundland dogs for seventeen dollars: two bitches, four pups, and a dog two years old. With these I shall be able to fulfill promises made to friends to bring them dogs. “On the 18th of Anite at daylight the wind promis- ed to be fair, and although it was rather cloudy we broke At Pictou, Nova Scotia. 365 our anchorage, and at five o’clock were under weigh. We soasted along Newfoundland until evening, when the wind rose to a tempest from the south-west, and our vessel was laid to at dark, and we danced and kicked over the waves the whole of that night and the next day. The next day the storm abated, but the wind was still so adverse that we could not make the Gannet Rock or any part of New- foundland, and towards the latter we steered, for none of us could bear the idea of returning to Labrador. During the night the weather moderated, and the next day we laid our course for the Straits of Canseau ; but suddenly the wind failed, and during the calm it was agreed that we would try and reach Pictou in Nova Scotia, and trav- el by land. We are now beating about towards that port, and hope to reach it early to-morrow morning. The captain will then sail for Eastport, and we, making our way by land, will probably reach there as soon as he. rhe great desire we all have to see Pictou, Halifax, and the country between there and Eastport is our induce- ment.” “ August 22. After attempting to beat our vessel into the harbor of Pictou, but without succeeding, we conclud- ed that myself and party should be put on shore, and the Ripley should sail back to the Straits of Canseau, the wind and tide being favorable. We drank a parting glass to our wives and friends, and our excellent little captain took us to the shore, whilst the vessel stood up to the wind, with all sails set, waiting for the captain. “We happened to land on an island called Ruy’s Isl- and, where, fortunately for us, we met some men mak- ing hay. Two of them agreed to carry our trunks and two of our party to Pictou for two dollars. Our effects were putin a boat in a trice, and we shook hands _heart- ily with the captain, towards whom we all now feel much real attachment, and after mutual adieus, and good 366 Life of Audubon. wishes for the completion of our respective ‘journeys, we parted, giving each other three most hearty cheers. “We were now, thank God, positively on the main shore of our native land; and after four days’ confine- ment in our births, and sea-sickness, and the sea and ves- sel, and all their smells and discomforts, we were so re- freshed, that the thought of walking nine miles seemed nothing more than figuring through a single quadrille. The air felt uncommonly warm, and the country, com- pared with those we had so lately left, appeared perfectly beautiful, and we inhaled the fragrance of the new mown grass, as if nothing sweeter ever existed. Even the music of crickets was delightful to my ears, for no such insect is to be found either at Labrador or Newfoundland. The voice of a blue jay sounded melody to me, and the sight of a humming-bird quite filled my mind with delight. “We were conveyed to the main, only a very short dis- tance, Ingalls and Coolidge remaining in the boat ; and the rest took the road, along which we movedas lightly as if boys just released from school. The road was good, or seemed to be so ; the woods were tall timber, and the air, which circulated freely, was all perfume ; and every plant we saw brought to mind some portion of the United States, and we all felt quite happy. Now and then as we crossed a hill, and cast our eyes back on the sea, we saw our beautiful vessel sailing freely before the wind, and as she diminished towards the horizon, she at last appeared like a white speck, or an eagle floating in the air, and we wished our captain a most safe voyage to Quoddy. “We reached the shore opposite Pictou in two anda half hours, and lay down onthe grass to await the arrival ofthe boat, and gazed on the scenery around us. A num- ber of American vessels lay in the harbor loading with coal. The village located at the bottom of a fine bay on the north-west side looked well, although small. “ Three Professor McCullough. 367 churches appeared above the rest of the buildings, all of wood, and several vessels were building on the stocks. “The whole country seemed to be in a high state of cultivation, and looked well. The population is about two thousand. Our boat came, and we crossed the bay, and we putup at the Royal Oak, the best hotel in the place, where we obtained an excellent supper. ‘The very treading of a carpeted floor was comfortable. In the evening we called on Professor McCullough, who re- ceived us kindly, gave us a glass of wine, and showed us his collection of well-preserved birds and other things, and invited us to breakfast to-morrow at eight o’clock, when we are further to inspect his curiosities. The pro- fessor’s mansion is a quarter of a mile from the town, and looks much like a small English villa. “ August 23. We had an excellent Scotch breakfast at the professor’s this morning, and his family, consisting of wife, four sons and daughters, and a wife’s sister, were all present. ‘Themore I saw and talked with the professor, the more I was pleased withhim. I showed him a few of my Labrador drawings, after which we marched in a body to the university, and again examined his fine col- lection. I found there half a dozen specimens of birds, which I longed for, and said so, and he offered them to me with so much apparent good will, that I took them and thanked him. He then asked-me to look around and see if there were any other objects [would like to have. He offered me all his fresh-water shells, and such miner- als as we might choose, and I took a few specimens of iron and copper. He asked me what I thought of his collection, and I gave him my answer in writing, adding F.R.S. to my name, and telling him that I wished it might prove useful to him. I am much surprised that his valua- ble collection has not been purchased by the Governor of the province, to whom he offered it for: five hundred pounds. I think it worth a thousand pounds. 368 Life of Audubon. “On our return to the hotel we were met by Mr, Blanchard, the deputy consul for the United States, an agreeable man, who offered frankly to do anything in his power to make our visit fruitful and pleasant. ‘Time up,’ and the coach almost ready, our bill was paid, our birds packed, and I walked ahead about a mile out of the town, with Mr. Blanchard, who spoke much of Eng- land, and was acquainted with Mr. Adamson, and some other friends whom I knew at Newcastle-on-Tyne. “The coach came up, I shook hands with Mr. Blan- chard, jumped in, and away we went for Truro, distant forty miles. The rain began to fall, and the wind to blow from the east, a good wind for the Ripley, and on we rolled on as good a road as any in England, were it only a little broader. We now passed through a fine tract of country, well wooded, well cultivated, and a won- derful relief to our fatigued eyes, which had so long been seeing only desolate regions, snow, and tempestuous storms. “By four in the afternoon we were hungry, and stopped at a house to dine, and it now rained faster than before. ‘Two ladies, and the husband of one of them as I supposed, had arrived before us, in an open cart or Jersey waggon; and I, with all the gallantry be- longing to my nature, offered to exchange vehicles with them, which they readily accepted, but without express- ing any thanks in return. After dinner Shattuck, Ingalls, and myself jumped into the open thing ; I was seated by the side of my so-so Irish dame, and our horse moved off at a very good speed. “Our exchange soon proved an excellent one, for the, weather cleared up, and we saw the country much better than we could have done in the coach, where there were so many passengers that we should have been squeezed together closely. Directly Professor McCullough came Visits Truro, Nova Scotia. 369 up with us, and told us he would see us to-morrow at [ruro. Towards sunset we arrived in sight of this pret- ty, loosely-built village, near the head-waters of the Bay of Fundy. The view filled me with delight, and the pleasure was deepened by the consciousness that my course was homeward, and I was but a few days from the dearest being to me on earth. “We reached the tavern, which the hotel where we stopped was called, but as it could accommodate only three of us, we crossed the street to another house, where we ordered a substantial supper. Professor McCullough came in, and introduced us to several members of the Assembly of this province. “We tried in vain to get a conveyance to take us to Halifax, distant sixty-four miles, in the morning, to avoid riding all night in the mail-coach, but could not succeed. Mr. McCullough then took me to the residence of Sam- uel G. Archibald, Esq., Speaker of the Assembly, who re- ceived me most affably, and introduced me to his. lady and handsome young daughter ; the former wore a cap fashionable four years ago at home (England). I showed them a few drawings, and received a letter from the Speaker to the Chief Justice at Halifax, and bid them all good night ; and am now waiting the mail to resume my journey. Meanwhile let me say a few words on this lit- tle village. It is situated in the centre of a most beauti- ful valley of great extent, and under complete cultivation ; looking westerly a broad sheet of water is seen, forming the head of the famous Bay of Fundy, and several brooks run through the valley emptying into it. The buildings, although principally of wood, are good-looking, and as cleanly as any of our pretty New England villages, well painted, and green blinds. ‘he general appearance of the people quite took me by surprise, being extremely genteel. The coach is at the door, the corner of my 16* 370 Life of Audubon. trunk is gasping to swallow this book, and I must put it in and be off. “ August 24. Wind east, and hauling to the north- east—all good for the Ripley. We are at Halifax, Nova Scotia, and this is the way we got here :—Last night at eleven we seated ourselves in the coach ; the moon shone bright, and the night was beautiful ; but we could only partially observe the country until the day dawned. But we found out that the road was hilly and the horses lazy, and after riding twenty miles we stopped to change horses and warm ourselves. Shortly the cry came, ‘Coach ready, gentlemen.’ In we jumped, and on we rode for a mile and a half, when the linch-pin broke, and ‘we came to a stand-still. Ingalls took charge of the horses, and responded to the hoot of the owls, which sounded out from the woods, and the rest of the party, excepting Coolidge and myself, slept soundly, while we were enduring that disagreeable experience of travellers —detention—which is most disagreeable in this latitude; and especially at night. Looking up the road, the vacil- lating glimmer of the candle, intended to assist the driver in finding the linch-pin, was all that could be distinguish- ed, and we began to feel what is called ‘wolfish.’ The man returned, but found no pin—it could not be found, and another quarter of an hour was spent in fumbling round with ropes to tie our vehicle together. At length the day dawned beautifully, and I ran ahead of the coach fora mile or so to warm myself; and when the coach came up I got up with the driver to try to obtain some information respecting the country, which was becoming poorer and poorer the further we travelled. Hunger again now began to press us, and we were told that it was twenty-five miles from the lost linch-pin to the breakfast- house. I persuaded the driver to stop at a wayside tav- ern, and inquire the prospects for getting some chickens Night Ride to Halifax. 371 or boiled eggs ; but the proprietor said it was impossible for him to furnish a breakfast for six persons of our ap- pearance. “We passed on, and soon came to the track of a good-sized bear in the road, and after a wearisome ride reached the breakfast ground, at a house situated on the margin of a lake called Grand Lake, which abounds with fine fish, and soles in the season. ‘This lake forms part of the channel which was intended to be cut for connect- ing the Atlantic Ocean and the Bay of Fundy with the Gulf of St. Lawrence at Bay Verte. Ninety thousand pounds have been expended on the enterprise, and the canal is not finished, and probably never will be ; for the government will not assist, and private efforts seem to have exhausted themselves. This point is seventeen miles from Halifax, and must afford a pleasant residence for summer. “The road from that tavern to Halifax is level and good, though rather narrow, and a very fine drive for pri- vate carriages. We saw the flag of the garrison at Hali- fax, two miles before we reached the place, when we sud- denly turned short, and brought up at a gate fronting a wharf, at which lay a small steam-ferry boat. The gate was shut, and the mail was detained nearly an hour wait- ing for it to be opened. Why did not Mrs. Trollope visit Halifax? The number of negro men and women, beg- garly-looking blacks, would have furnished materials for her descriptive pen. “We crossed the harbor, in which we saw a sixty-four gun flag-ship riding at anchor. The coach drove up to the house of Mr. Paul, the best hotel, where we with dif ficulty obtained one room with four beds for six persons. With a population of eighteen thousand souls, and two thousand more of soldiers, Halifax has not one good hotel, and only two very indifferent private boarding- $72 Life of Audubon. houses, where the attendance is miserable, and the table by no means good. We are, however, settled. “We have walked about the town ; but every one of aus has sore feet in consequence of walking on hard - ground, after having roamed for two months on the soft, deep mosses of Labrador. The card of an Italian was sent to our rooms, telling us that he had fine baths of all sorts, and we went off to his rooms and found only one tin tub, and a hole underground, into which the sea-water filters, about the size of a hogshead. I plunged into this hole with Ingalls and Shattuck, then rubbed ourselves dry with curious towels, and paid six cents each for the accommodation. We then walked to the garrison, listen- ed to the music, returned to the hotel, and have written this, and now send in my card to the aide-de-camp of the Governor of Newfoundland, who resides in this house. “ August 25. ‘To-day I walked to the wharves, and was surprised to find them every one gated and locked, and sentinels standing guard everywhere. In the afternoon there was a military funeral; it was a grand sight, the soldiers walked far apart, guns inverted, to the sound of the finest anthem, and wonderfully well executed by an excellent band. “There are no signs of style here ; only two ordinary barouches came to church to-day (the Episcopal), where the bishop said the prayers and preached. All the churches receive a certain number of soldiers dressed in uniform. ‘The natives of the province are called ‘Blue Noses,’ and to-morrow we intend to see all we can of them. “August 26. To-day I delivered letters which I brought to Bishop Inglis and the Chief Justice, but did not find them at home. ‘To-morrow we hope to leave here for Windsor, distant forty-five miles. “ August 24. At nine o’clock we entered the coach, or Prince Edward's Lodge. a7 tather five of us entered it, as it would hold no more, and one was obliged to take an outside seat in the rain. The road from Halifax to Windsor is macadamized and good, winding through undulating hills ana valleys ; our horses were good, and although we had but one pair at a time, we travelled six and a half miles an hour. For more than nine miles our course was along the borders of the Bay of Halifax; the view was pleasant, and here and there we noticed tolerably gook-looking summer-houses. Near the head of this bay, said the driver, an English fleet pursued a squadron of seven French ships, and forc- ed them to haul down their colors ; but the French com- mander, or admiral, sunk all his vessels, preferring to do this to surrendering them to the British. ‘The water was so deep at this place that the tops of the masts of the vessels went deep out of sight, and have been seen only once since then, which was more than twenty years ago. “We passed the abandoned lodge of Prince Edward, who spent about one million of pounds on this building and the grounds, but the whole is now a ruin; thirty years have passed since it was in its splendor. On leavy- ing the waters of the bay, we followed those of the Sal- mon River, a small rivulet of swift water, which abounds with salmon, trout, elwines, &c. The whole country is poor, very poor, yet under tolerable cultivation all the way. We passed the seat of Mr. Jeffries, the President of the Assembly, now Acting Governor; his house is good-looking, large, and the grounds around it are in fine order. It is situated between two handsome fresh-water lakes ; indeed the whole country through which we trav- elled is interspersed with lakes, all of them abounding in trout and eels. “We passed the college and common school, both looking well, and built of fine freestone ; a church and several other fine buildings line the road, on which the 374 Life of Audubon. president and rector reside. We crossed the head of the St. Croix River, which rolls its waters impetuously into the Bay of Fundy. Here the lands were all dyked, and the crops looked very well, and from that river to Wind- sor the country improved rapidly. “Windsor is a small and rather neat village, on the east side of the River Windsor, and is supported by the vast banks of plaster of Paris around it. ‘This valuable article is shipped in British vessels to Eastport and else- where in large quantities. “Our coach stopped at the door of the best private boarding-house, for nowhere in this province have we heard of hotels. ‘The house was full, and we went to an- other, where, after waiting two hours, we obtained an in- different supper. The view from this village was as novel to me as the coast of Labrador. The bed of the river, which is here about one mile wide, was quite bare as far as the eye could reach, say for ten miles, scarcely any wa- ter to be seen, and yet the place where we stood was six- ty-five feet above the bed, which plainly showed that at high tide this wonderful basin must be filled to the brim. Opposite us, and indeed the whole country, is dyked in ; and vessels left dry at the great elevation, fastened to the wharves, had a singular appearance. We are told that now and then some vessels have slid sideways from the top of the bank down to the level of the gravelly bed of the river. The shores are covered for a hundred yards with a reddish mud. ‘This looks more like the result of a great freshet than of a tide, and I long to see the waters of the sea advancing at the rate of four knots an hour to fill this basin, a sight I hope to see to-morrow.” August 28. Here follows the description of the ex- traordinary rise and fall of the waters, and they are evi- dently the notes from which Audubon wrote his episode of the Bay of Fundy. The day was passed in rambling St. Fohn’s by Moonlight. 375 in search of birds in this vicinity. The record for the day concludes: “We intended to have paid our respects ta Mr. Haliiburton, author of the ‘Description of Nova Scotia,’ and other works, but we learned that he was in Boston, where I heartily wished myself. “ Eastport, Maine, August 31, 1833. We arrived here yesterday afternoon in the steamer Maid of the Mist, all well. We left Windsor a quarter before twelve, and reached St. John’s, New Brunswick, at two o'clock at night ; passed Cape Blow-me-Down, Cape Split, and Cape D’Or ; the passengers were few, and we were com- fortable. We traversed the streets of St. John’s by moon- light, and in the morning I had the pleasure to meet my friend Edward Harris, and to receive letters from home ; and I am now preparing to leave for Boston as soon as possible.” The account of the voyage concludes with this sen- tence : “We reached New York on the morning of the 7th of September, and, thank God, found all well. I paid the balance of the Ripley’s charter (eight hundred and sixty- two dollars), and a balance of four hundred and _ thirty dollars to Dr. Parkman, which-he advanced to Dr. Shat- tuck for me. And I was not very well pleased that near- ly the whole burden of the Labrador voyage was put on my shoulders, or rather taken out of my poor purse ; but I was silent, and no one knew my thoughts on that subject.” CHAPTER XXXII. Fournal Resumed— Washington Lrving— Wanderings South—Florida Excursion Abandoned—Returns North—Sails for England— Visit to Baron Rothschild—Removal to Edinburgh—Return to London—Embarks with much Live Stock to New York—WNotes by the Way. BEPTEMBER 7, 1833. After Audubon’s return | from Labrador he remained three weeks in New ese York, and then made all his preparations for a journey to Florida. He forwarded to his son Victor, in England, thirteen drawings of land birds, which he had prepared to complete the second volume of the great work; and he left seventeen drawings of sea birds to be forwarded in October, for the commencement of his third volume. As an evidence of the value Audubon set on these drawings, we may note that he insured both par- cels for two thousand dollars each. September 25. Mr. and Mrs. Audubon left New York for Philadelphia on their way to Florida, leaving their son John to sail from New York by water, “with all our arti- cles of war,” for Charleston, where they proposed to meet. The journal says: “The weather was delightful, and we reached Philadelphia at three o’clock, and took lodgings with Mrs. Newlin, No. 112 Walnut Street. Here I called on some of my former friends and was kindly received. I visited several public places in the city, but no one stopped me to subscribe for my book.” The following letter from Dr. McKenney of Philadel- phia is inserted here as a capital specimen of a racy let- A Friendly Letter. 377 ter, and as evincing, moreover, how Audubon was es- timated by his friends : ‘“* PHILADELPHIA, September 30, 1833. “My DEAR GOVERNOR, “T do not know when I have done a more acceptable service to my feelings, nor when I have been just in asit- uation to afford as much gratification to yours, as in pre- senting to your notice, and private and official friendship, the bearer, Mr. Audubon. It were superfluous to tell you who he is ; the whole world knows him and respects him, and no man init has the heart to cherish or the head to appreciate him, and such a man, beyond the capacity of yourself. “Mr. Audubon makes no more of tracking it in all directions over this, and I may add other countries, than a shot star does in crossing the heavens. He goes after winged things, but sometimes needs the aid of—at least a few feathers, to assist him the better to fly. He means to coast it again round Florida—make a track through Arkansas—go up the Missouri—pass on to the Rocky Mountains, and thence to the Pacific. He will require some of your official aid. I took an unmerited liberty with your name and readiness of purpose, and told him you were the very man; and I need not say how happy I shall be to learn that you have endorsed my promise and ratified it. God bless you. “Tn haste, “TxHos. L. MCKENNEY. “To the Hon. LEwts Cass, Secretary of War, Washington City.” “ Riuhmond, Virginia, October (no date). Travelling through the dreeding-places of OUR species is far from being as interesting to me as it is to inspect the breeding-places 378 . Life of Audubon. of the feathery tribes of our country. Yet as it is the lot of every man like me to know something of both, to keep up the clue of my life, I must say something of the cities through which I pass, and of the events which transpire as I go along. “ At Philadelphia I of course received no subscrip- tions ; nay, I was arrested there for debt,* and was on the point of being taken to prison, had I not met with William Norris, Esq., who kindly offered to be my bail. This event brings to my mind so many disagreeable thoughts connected with my former business transactions, in which I was a/ways the szngle loser, that I will only add I made all necessary arrangements to have it paid. “We left Philadelphia for Baltimore, where I obtained four new subscribers, and received many civilities, and especially from Mr. Theodore Anderson, the collector of the customs. He is fond of birds, and that made me fond of zm. “From Baltimore we went to Washington, for the pur- pose of obtaining permission for myself to accompany an expedition to the Rocky Mountains under the patronage of the Government. Generals McComb, Jesup, Colonel Abert, and other influential persons received me as usual with marked kindness. I called on Governor Cass, Sec- retary of War, and met with a reception that nearly dis- heartened me. He said in an indifferent and cold manner that any request of that sort must be made in writing to the Department ; and it recalled to my mind how poor Wilson was treated by the famous Jefferson when he made a similar application to that great diplo- matist. I had forgotten to take with me the flattering letter of introduction I had received from Dr. McKen- ney, and I inquired if he would allow me to send the let- * One of his old partnership debts. Meets Washington Irving. 379 ter: he said, ‘Certainly, sir,’ and I bowed and retired, determined never to trouble him or the War Department again. “T was revolving in my mind how I might get to the Rocky Mountains without the assistance of the Secretary of War, when I suddenly met with a friendly face, no less than Washington Irving’s. I mentioned my errand to him and the answer I had received, and he thought I was mistaken. I might have been: but those eyes of mine have discovered more truth in men’s eyes than their mouths were willing to acknowledge. However, I listen- ed to good Irving with patience and calmness, and he promised to see the Secretary of War; and he also at once accompanied me to Mr. Taney, the Secretary of the Treasury, who received me well, and at once kindly gave me a letter, granting me the privilege of the revenue cut- ters along the coast south of Delaware Bay.”’ Mr. Audubon returned to Baltimore, took the bay steamer for Norfolk, went aboard the Potomac, which was there ready to sail for Richmond, where he arrived at the above date. There he called on Governor Floyd, who promised to try to induce the State of Virginia to sub- scribe for his “ Birds of America.” “ October 16. We left Richmond this morning in astage well crammed with Italian musicians and southern mer- chants, arrived at Petersburg at a late hour, dined, and were again crammed in a car drawn by a locomotive, which dragged us twelve miles an hour, and sent out sparks of fire enough to keep us constantly busy in ex- tinguishing them on our clothes. At Blakely we were again crammed into a stage, and dragged about two miles an hour. We crossed the Roanoke River by torchlight in a flat boat, passed through Halifax, Raleigh, Fayette- ville, and Columbia, where we spent the night. Here I met Dr. Gibbs, at whose house we passed the evening, 380 Life of Audubon. and who assisted me greatly ; at his house I met Pres- ident Thomas Cooper, who assured me he had seen a rattlesnake climb a five-rail fence on his Jand. I received from the treasury of the State four hundred and twenty dollars on account of its subscription for one copy of the ‘ Birds of America.’ ” Dreading the railway, he hired a carriage for forty dollars to proceed to Charleston, where he arrived in four days, and found his son John, and was kindly received, with his wife, by the Rev. John Bachman. Charleston, S. C., October 24, 1833. Our time ’at Charleston has been altogether pleasant. ‘The hospital- ity of our friends cannot be described, and now that we are likely to be connected by family ties I shall say no more on this head.” John and Victor Audubon were subsequently married to daughters of this gentleman. “My time was well employed ; I hunted for new birds or searched for more knowledge of old. I drew ; I wrote many long pages. I obtained a fewnew subscribers, and made some collections on account of my work. “My proposed voyage to Florida, which was arranged for the 3d of November, was abandoned on account of the removal of my good friend Captain Robert Day from his former station to New York, and I did not like to launch on the Florida reefs in the care of a young officer unknown to me ; and besides this, my son Victor wrote me from England desiring my return. So we began to pre- pare gradually for a retrograde movement toward the north, and on the 1st of March we left our friends and Charleston to return to New York. We travelled through North and South Carolina, and reached Norfolk, Va., on the 6th ; went up the bay to Washington, thence to Bal- timore, and took lodgings at Theodore Anderson’s in Fayette Street. “ At Baltimore we saw all our friends and obtained London Once More. 381 three new subscribers, and lost one, a banker.” Here Audubon remained about a month ; went to Philadelphia to collect money, which he found rather difficult; and passed on to New York. April 16, 1834. After remaining two weeks in New York, Audubon, his wife, and son John, sailed on the above date for Liverpool, “in the superb pack- et, the North America, commanded by that excellent gentleman, Mr. Dixey of Philadelphia. Our company was good; our passage was good; the first land we saw was Holyhead, and in nineteen days after leaving America we were put ashore in Old England.” Audubon saw his friends in Liverpool, who had lost none of their former cordiality and kindness ; and after a few days he left with his family, by the way of Birmingham, for Lon- don. “ May 12. We reached London to-day and found our son Victor quite well, and were all happy. My work and business were going on prosperously.” After re- maining several weeks in London, and seeing to mat- ters relating to his publication there, Audubon and his son Victor went to deliver letters of introduction which they had brought. Among those letters was one from one of the firm of the distinguished American banking-house Prime, Ward, and King, to the famous London bank- er, Rothschild. ‘The letter was addressed to Baron Rothschild, the man who, notwithstanding his original poverty, is now so well known through his immense wealth, which he uses as banker, jobber, and lender of money. We found no difficulty in ascertaining the place of busi- ness of the great usurer. Business in London is thor- oughly matter of fact ; no external pomp indicated the counting-house of the baron ; there was nothing to dis- tinguish it from those of men of less enormous capital; and we walked into his private office without any hin- 382 | Life of Audubon. drance, and introduced ourselves without any introducer. “The Baron was not present, but we were told by a gqod-loking young gentleman that he would come in in a few minutes; and so he did. Soon a corpulent man appeared, hitching up his trousers, and a face red with the exertion of walking, and without noticing any one present, dropped his fat body into a comfortable chair, as if caring for no one else in this wide world but him- self. While the Baron sat, we stood, with our hats held respectfully in our hands. I stepped forward, and with a bow tendered him my credentials. ‘ Pray, sir,’ said the man of golden consequence, ‘is this a letter of business, or is it a mere letter of introduction?’ This I could not well answer, for I had not read the contents of it ,and I was forced to answer rather awkward!y that I could not tell. ‘The banker then opened the letter, read it with the manner of one who was looking only at the temporal side of things, and after reading it said, ‘This is only a letter of introduction, and I expect from its contents that you are the publisher of some book or other and need my subscription.’ “Had a man the size of a mountain spoken to me in that arrogant style in America, I should have indig- nantly resented it ; but where I then was it seemed best to swallow and digest it as well as I could. So in reply to the offensive arrogance of this banker, I said I should be honored by his subscription to the ‘ Birds of America.’ ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘I never sign my name to any subscription list, but you may send in your work and I will pay for a copy of it. Gentlemen, I am busy, I wish you good- morning.’ We were busy men, too, and so bowing re- spectfully, we retired, pretty well satisfied with the small slice of his opulence which our labor was likely to obtain, “ A few days afterwards I sent the first volume of my work half bound, and all the numbers besides, then pub. : The Baron Rothschild. 383 lished. On seeing them we were told that he ordered the bearer to take them to his house, which was done di- rectly. Number after number was sent and delivered to the Baron, and after eight or ten months my son made out his account and sent it by Mr. Havell, my engraver, to his banking-house. The Baron looked at it with amaze- ment, and cried out,‘ What, a hundred pounds for birds! Why, sir, I will give you five pounds, and not a farthing more!’ Representations were made to him of the mag- nificence and expense of the work, and how pleased his Baroness and wealthy children would be to have a copy ; but the great financier was unrelenting. The copy of the work was actually sent back to Mr. Havell’s shop, and as I found that instituting legal proceedings against him would cost more than it would come to, I kept the work, and afterwards sold it to a man with less money but a nobler heart. What a distance there is between two such men as the Baron Rothschild of London and the merchant of Savannah!” Audubon remained in London looking after his work and interests there until the fall of 1834, when he went with his family to Edinburgh, where he hired a house and spent a year and a half. There is no journal describing the incidents of that residence in Edinburgh ; and it is probable that Audubon did not keep a daily record there at all. The journal was written chiefly with the design to keep his wife and chil- dren informed of all his doings when he was absent from them, and they were with him during this period, and so there was no necessity for it; and secondly, he was daily so busily occupied with other writing that he had no time to devote to that, or even his favorite work of drawing and painting. Some idea of the amount of his labor at that period may be inferred from the fact, that the intro- duction to volume second of his “ American Ornitholog: 384 Life of Audubon. ical Biography,” which contains five hundred and eighty- five pages of closely-printed matter, is dated December 1st, 1834; and that in just one year from that date, the third volume, containing six hundred and _ thirty-eight pages, was printed and published. In the summer of 1836 he removed his family to London, and having settled them in Wimpole-street, Cav- endish Square, he again made his preparations to return to America, and make the excursion into some of the southern States, which he had been contemplating for a long time, for the purpose of increasing the new varieties of birds for his great work. Fuly 30, 1836, the journal begins, saying that Mr. Audubon left London that day with his son John for Portsmouth, where he arrived the next day, and took pas- sage on board the packet-ship Gladiator, for New York. “ August 1. Somewhat before the setting of the sun we went on board, ate and drank, and laid ourselves down in those floating catacombs, vulgarly called berths. When the Gladiator left St. Katharine’s Dock she had on our account two hundred and sixty live birds, three dogs re- ceived as a present from our noble friend, the Earl of Derby, and a brace of tailless cats from our friend George Thackery, D. D., provost of King’s College. They had been on board several days, and seemed not to have re- ceived much care, and some of the birds had died. But the dogs and some of the birds were alive, and crossed the Atlantic safely. August 2, About five this afternoon the anchor was apeak, several new persons were hoisted on deck, our sails were spread to the breeze, and the Gladiator smoothly glided on her course. ‘The passengers were a fair average as to agreeability, and among them was Wal- lack the actor, who amused us with some admirable puns. The voyage was prosperous, and the time passed pleas- A New York Packet. ~ 3385 antly, until we approached the banks of Newfoundland, when we began to fear and dream of icebergs and disas- ters ; but none came, and the Gladiator kept her course steadily onward, when, just five weeks after leaving Eng- land, in the afternoon, the highlands of Neversink were dis- covered, about fifteen miles distant. The welcome news of our approach to the Hook thrilled my heart with ecstacy. “The evening was dark, and no pilot in sight; and rockets were thrown up from the ship to attract one. This soon brought one alongside, and an American tar leaped on board. Oh! my Lucy, thou knowest me, but I cried like a child, and when our anchor was dropped, and rested on the ground of America, thy poor husband laid himself down on his knees, and there thanked God for His preservation of myself and our dear son. “ All was now bustle and mutual congratulations ; our commander was praised for his skill by some, and others praised his whiskey punch, which the waiters handed about, and the night was nearly spent in revelry; but John and myself retired at two o’clock. “Tt rained hard and blew all night, but I slept com- fortably, and awoke the next morning at four o’clock as happy as any mai could be three thousand miles from the dearest friend he had on earth. Asa gleam of daylight appeared, my eyes searched through the hazy atmosphere to catch a glimpse of the land, and gradually Staten Island * opened on my view; then the boat of the custom-house officer appeared, and soon he boarded us, arranged the sailors and passengers on deck, and called their names. Then followed breakfast, and soon another boat with a yellow flag flying landed the health officer, and there be- ing no sickness on board, myself and John returned to Staten Island in the doctor’s boat, and were taken by the steamer Hercules to the city, where we were welcomed by relatives and friends.” 17 CHAPTER XXXIIL In America — Philadelphia—Boston—friends and Birds—Meeting with Daniel Webster—Back to New VYork—Social Meetings— Washington — Two Letters of Washington Irving — [Interview with the President—Proposed Scientific Expedition. mg EPTEMBER 13. Audubon remained in New York until this date, obtained two subscribers Ai) and the promise of two more, visited the mar- kets and found a few specimens of new birds, and left for Philadelphia; paid three dollars for his fare on the steamer Swan, and fifty cents for his dinner; “but,” the journal adds, “we were too thick to thrive. I could get only a piece of bread and butter, snatched from the table at a favorable moment. “T found the country through which we passed great- ly improved, dotted with new buildings, and the Delaware River seemed to me handsomer than ever. I reached hiladelphia at six o’clock Pp. M., and found Dr. Harlan waiting for me on the wharf, and he took me in his car- riage to his hospitable house, where I was happy in the presence of his amiable wife and interesting son. “ September 24. Went to the market with Dr. Harlan at five o’clock this morning ; certainly this market is the finest one in America.. The flesh, fish, fruit and vege- tables, and fowls, are abundant, and about fifty per cent. less than in New York; where, in fact, much of the pro- duce of Pennsylvania and New Jersey is taken now-a-days for sale—even game! I bought two soras (cedar birds) for forty cents, that in New York would have broug’t Flying Visits. 387 righty cents. After breakfast went to the Academy of Natural Sciences, met Dr. Pickering, and had a great treat in looking over and handling the rare collection made by Nuttall and Townsend in their excursion on and over the Rocky Mountains. It belongs to the Academy, which assisted the travellers with funds to prosecute their journey ; it contains about forty new species of birds, and its value cannot be described.” Audubon spent only a day or two in Philadelphia, saw his old friends there, was present at one of the meetings of the Academy, obtained a few new birds, and returned to New York. Mr. Edward Harris, his old friend, called to see him ; and when he was told of the new species of birds obtained by Townsend, “offered to give me five hundred dollars towards purchasing them. Is not this a noble generosity to show for the love of science?” “ Boston, September 20, 1836. I came here from New York, wa the steamer Massachusetts and the Providence Railroad, for seven dollars, which included supper and breakfast. There were three hundred passengers, and among them several persons known to me. A_ thick fog compelled the steamer to anchor at midnight; in the morning our.sail up the bay to Providence was like a fairy dream. Nature looked so beautiful and grand, and so congenial to my feelings, that I wanted nothing but thy dear self here, Lucy, to complete my happiness. The locomotive pulled us from Providence to Boston at the rate of fifteen miles an hour; we arrived at four P. M. ; a cart took my trunk, and sitting myself by the side of the owner, we drove to the house of my friend Dr. George C. Shattuck. The family soon gathered for tea, and I was now happy, and after talking for a while I retired to rest in the same room and bed where John and I slept after our return from Labrador.” Audubon spent several days in Boston, visiting the 388 Life af Audubon. public institutions and his friends, among whom he men: tions Mr. Everett, Dr. Bowditch, Dr. Gould, and Mr. David, “where I found Maria D , now Mrs. Motley, as handsome as ever, and her husband not far short of seven feet high.” “< Sep'ember 20. Went to the market and bought a fine pigeon hawk which is now found in Massachusetts, for two cents. Visited Roxbury with Thomas Brewer, a young man of much ornithological taste, to see his col- lection of skins and eggs: found his mother and family very kind and obliging, and received from him seven eggs of such species as I have not. Returned and visited David Eckley, the great salmon fisher: promised to breakfast with him to-morrow. “ September 21. Went to market and bought a female blue teal for ten cents. Called on Dr. Storer, and heard that our learned friend Thomas Nuttall had just returned from California. I sent Mr. Brewer after him, and waited with impatience for a sight of the great travel- ler, whom we admired so much when we were in this rine city. In he came, Lucy, the very same Thomas Nut- tall, and in a few minutes we discussed a considerable portion of his travels, adventures, and happy return to this land of happiness. He promised to obtain me dupli- cates of all the species he had brought for the Academy at Philadelphia, and to breakfast with us to-morrow, and we parted as we have before, friends, bent on the promo- tion of the science we study. “ September 22. This has been a day of days with me ; Nuttall breakfasted with us, and related much of his journey on the Pacific, and presented me with five new species of birds obtained by himself, and which are named after him. One of Dr. Shattuck’s students drove me in the coctor’s gig to call on Governor Everett, who received me as kindly as ever ; and then to the house of Presi- Flying Visits. 389 dent Tinnay of Harvard. University, where I saw his fam ily ; and then to Judge Story’s. Then crossing the coun- try, we drove to Col. J. H. Perkins’, and on the way I nought a fine male white-headed eagle for five dollars. On my return I learned that at a meeting of the Nationa’ History Society yesterday a resolution was passed to subscribe for my work. “Dr. Bowditch advised me to go to Salem, and with his usual anxiety to promote the welfare of every one, gave me letters to Messrs. Peabody and Cleveland of that place, requesting them to interest themselves to get the Athenzeum to subscribe for my work. “Salem, Mass., September 23, 1836. Rose early this morning, and made preparations to go to Salem; and at seven o’clock I was in the stage, rolling out of Boston to- wards this beautiful and quiet village. The road might be called semi-aquatic, as it passes over bridges and em- bankments through salt marshes of great extent, bounded by wooded hills towards the sea, and distant ones inland. We stopped a few moments at Shoemaker Town (Lynn), where I paid one dollar for my fare, and reached this place afterwards at half-past ten. “T was put down at the Lafayette Hotel, and soon made my way to Mr. Cleveland’s office ; he received me kindly, and invited me to dine with him at one o’clock. I took some back numbers of my ‘ Birds of America’ to Miss Burley, and found her as good, amiable, and gener- _ous as ever ; and she at once interested herself to make the object of my visit successful. Called on Dr. Pierson, to whom I had a letter, and met a most congenial spirit, a man of talents and agreeable manners. The Doctor went with me to see several persons likely to be interested in my work ; and I then called alone on a Miss Sitsby, a beautiful ‘ blue,’ seven or eight seasons beyond her teens, and very wealthy. Blues do not knit socks, or put on 390 Life of Audubon. buttons when needed ; they may do for the parlor, but not for the kitchen. Although she has the eyes of a ga- zelle, and capital teeth, I soon discovered that she would be no help to me: when I mentioned subscription, it seemed to fall on her ears, not as the cadence of the wood thrush or mocking-bird does in mine, but as a shower- bath in cold January. Ornithology seemed to be a thing for which she had no taste ; she said, however, ‘I will suggest your wish to my father, sir, and give you an an- swer to-morrow morning.’ She showed me some valuable pictures, especially one by that king of Spanish painters, Murillo, representing himself, and gun, and dog; the Spanish dress and fout ensemble brought to my mind my imaginations respecting Gil Blas. At last I bowed, she curtsied, and so the interview ended. “ September 23. ‘Chemin faisant.’ I met the curator of the Natural History Society of Salem, and gladly ac- cepted his invitation to examine the young collection of that new-born institution, and there I had the good for- tune to find one egg of the American bittern. “Tt was now nearly one o’clock, and going to the office of Mr. Cleveland, I found him waiting to conduct me to his house. We soon entered it and his dining- room, where I saw three lovely daughters and a manly- looking youth, their brother. ‘he dinner was excellent, and served simply ; but as our future bread and butter depend on my exertions, I excused myself as soon as con- venient, and went to Dr. Pierson, who accompanied me to call on some gentlemen who would be likely to take an interest in my work.” Audubon returned on September 24th to Boston, and remained there one week, visiting his friends and looking for subscribers to his Birds. “ September 27. ‘The citizens are allexcitement ; guns are firing, flags flying, and troops parading, and John Interview with Daniel Webster. 39 Quincy Adams is delivering a eulogy on the late Pres- ident Madisan. ‘The mayor of Boston did me the hon- or to invite me to join in the procession, but I am no politician, and declined. “T dined with Dr. B. C. Green, President of the Nat- ural History Society, with President Quincy, Isaac P. Davis, and Mr. Nuttall. In the evening Dr. Shattuck _ finished the subscription list of the society, by presenting me to his lady, who subscribed for one-tenth, and the Dr. then put down his son George’s name for one-twentieth, making in his own family one-fourth of the whole, or two hundred and twenty dollars, for which he gave me his cheque. Without the assistance of this generous man, it is more than probable that the society never would have had a copy of the ‘ Birds of America.’ “ September 29. Mr. Isaac P. Davis called to inviteme to spend the evening at his house, and to meet Daniel Webster. I met him at the Historical Society, where I saw the last epaulets worn by our glorious Washington, many of his MS. letters, and the coat Benjamin Franklin wore at the French and English courts. “Mr. Davis has some fine pictures, which I enjoyed looking at, and after a while Daniel Webster came, and we welcomed each other as friends indeed, and after the usual compliments on such occasions we had much con- versation respecting my publication. He told me he thought it likely a copyright of our great work might be secured to you and ourchildren. We took tea, talked of ornithology and ornithologists ; he promised to send me some specimens of birds, and finished by subscribing to my work. I feel proud, Lucy, to have that great man’s name on our list, and pray God to grant him a long life and a happy one. Mr. Webster gave me the following note :— “TY take this mode of commending Mr. Audubon to 392 _ Life of Audubon. any friends of mine he may meet in his journey to the west. I have not only great respect for Mr. Audubon’s scientific pursuits, but entertain for him personally much esteem and hearty good wishes. “ ¢T)ANIEL WEBSTER.’ ” After obtaining a few more subscribers, and deliver- ing some numbers of his birds to former ones, Audubon bid adieu to his friends in Boston, and returned to New York. “ October 10. Had a pleasant call from Washington Irving, and promise of valuable letters to Van Buren and others in Washington. After dinner went to Mr. Coop- er’s, the naturalist, who at first with some reluctance showed me his birds. We talked of ornithology, and he gave me five pairs of sylvia, and promised to see me to-morrow. “ October 11. At nine o’clock Mr. Cooper came to see me, and examined the third volume of our work. He remained two hours, conversing on our favorite study, and I was pleased to find him more generously inclined to forward my views after he had seen the new species given me by Nuttall. I went to his house with him, and he gave me several rare and valuable specimens, and promised me a list of the birds found by himself and Ward in the State of New York. ““ October 13. Called on Inman the painter; saw the sketch intended for thee, but found it not at all like thy dear self. He says he makes twelve thousand dollars a year by his work. Dined at Samuel Swartwout’s, a grand dinner, with Mr. Fox, the British minister, Mr. Buckhead, secretary of legation, Thomas Moore, the poet, Judge Parish, and sundry others. Mrs. S. and her daughter were present ; all went off in good style, and I greatly enjeyed myself. Several of the party invited me to visit Dinner with S. Swartwout. 393 them at their residences, and General Stewart of Baltimore invited me to make his house my home when I visited there. “ October 15. We have packed our trunks and sent them on board the steamer, and leave this evening for Philadelphia. ‘The weather has been perfectly serene and beautiful, and the Bay of New York never looked more magnificent and grand to me. We soon glided across its smooth surface and entered the narrow and sinuous Raritan ; and as I saw flocks of ducks winging their way southward, I felt happy in the thought that I should ere long follow them to their winter abode. We soon reached the railroad, and crossed to the Delaware, and before six o’clock reached the house of my good friend Dr. Harlan.” Here Audubon saw many of his old friends, visited the public works and institutions, and obtained a few new species of birds. After speaking of the great changes in that city, the journal says: “ Passed poor Alexander Wilson’s school-house, and heaved a sigh. Alas, poor Wilson ! would that I could once more speak to thee, and listen to thy voice. When I was a youth, the woods stood unmolested here, looking wild and fresh as if just from the Creator’s hands ; but now hundreds of streets cross them, and thousands of houses and millions of diverse improvements occupy their places: Barton’s Garden is the only place which is unchanged. I walked in the same silent mood I enjoyed on the same spot when first I visited the present owner of it, the descendant of William Barton, the generous friend of Wilson.” On November 8th, Audubon arrived in Washington. Among many other letters ofintroduction given to peo- ple in Washington, and transcribed carefully in the journal, are the two following from Washington Irving. a 394 Life of Audubon. TARRYTOWN, October 19, 1836. My DEAR SIR, This letter will be handed to you by our distin: guished naturalist, Mr. J. J. Audubon. To one so pure- ly devoted as yourself to anything liberal and enlightened, I know I need say nothing in recommendation of Audu- bon and his works ; he himself will best inform you of his views in visiting Washington, and I am sure you will do anything in your power to promote them. He has heretofore received facilities on the part of the government, in prosecuting his researches along our coast, by giving him conveyance in our revenue cutters and other public vessels. I trust similar civilities will be extended to him, and that he will receive all aid and countenance in his excursions by land. The splendid works of Mr. Audubon, on the sale of which he depends for the remuneration of a life of labor, and for provision for his family, necessarily, from the magnificence of its execution, is put beyond the means of most individ- uals. It must depend therefore on public institutions for its chief sale. As it is a national work, and highly cred- itable to the nation, it appears to me that itis particular- ly deserving of national patronage. Why cannot the de- partments of Washington furnish themselves with copies, to be deposited in their libraries or archives ? Think of these suggestions, and, if you approve of them, act accord- ingly. With the highest esteem and regard, I am, dear sir, Yours very truly, WASHINGTON IRVING. BENJAMIN F. BuTLeEr, Esq., Attorney-General of the United States, Washington, D. C. TARRYTOWN, October, 19, 1836. My DEAR SIR, I take pleasure in introducing to you our distin- guished and most meritorious countryman, J. J. Audubon, Letter to M. Van Buren. 395 whose splendid work on American ornithology must of course be well known to you. That work, while it re- flects such great credit on our country, and contributes so largely to the advancement of one of the most delightful departments of science, is likely, from the extreme ex- pense attendant upon it, to repay but poorly the indefati gable labor of a lifetime. The high price necessarily put on the copies of Mr. Audubon’s magnificent work places it beyond the means of the generality of private individ- uals. It is entitled therefore to the especial countenance of our libraries and various other public institutions. It appears to me, that the different departments in Washing- ton ought each to have a copy deposited in their libraries or archives. Should you be of the same opinion you might be of great advantage in promoting such a_ meas- ure.” Reference is then made to the assistance rendered to Audubon by the revenue cutters and public vessels, and the letter continues :— “T trust similar facilities will still be extended to him ; in fact, as his undertakings are of a decidedly national character, and conducive of great national benefit, the most liberal encouragement in every respect ought to be shown to him on the part of our government. I am, my dear Sir, Your attached Friend, WASHINGTON IRVING.” “THE HonoraBLeE Martin Van Boren.” “ November 8. Called on Colonel Abert, who received me with his wonted civility, promised to assist me in all my desires, and walked with me to the President’s, to pre- » sent my letters. There we found Colonel Donaldson and Mr. Earle, both nephews, I believe, of General Jackson, and in a moment I was in the presence of this famed 396 Life of Audubon. man, and had shaken his hand. He read Mr. Swartwout’s letter twice, with apparent care, and having finished, said, ‘Mr. Audubon, I will do all in my power to serve you, but the Seminole war will, I fear, prevent you from hav-: ing a cutter; however, as we shall have a committee at twelve o’clock, we will consider this, and give you an an- swer to-morrow.’ ‘The general looked well, he was smok- ing bis pipe, and gave his letters to Colonel Donaldson, who read them attentively, and as I left the room he fol- lowed us, and we talked to him respecting the subscrip- tion of the different departments. I like this man and his manners ; and I gave him the letters of the Duke of Sussex and the Governor of the Hudson Bay Company to read, and went to see Colonel Earle, who is engaged in painting General Jackson’s portrait. “Colonel Abert then took me to Mr. Woodbury, Sec- retary of the Treasury, who received me very politely, and after reading my letters to him, promised me the use of the cutter. The subscription was also broached to hiran, but nothing decisive was said; and so we passed over to Mr. Butler’s office, who isa young man. He read Washington Irving’s letter, laid it down, and began a long talk about his talents, and after a while came round to my business ; saying, that the government allows so little money to the departments, that he did not think it proba- ble that their subscription could be obtained without a law to that effect from Congress. This opinion was any- thing but gratifying ; but he made many courteous prom- ises to bring the matter before the next Congress, and I bid him adieu, hoping for the best. “Called on Mr. John S. Mechan, librarian to Con- gress, and found him among his books. After some agreeable conversation respecting his work and my own, he asked me to dine with him to-day, and to-morrow to visit the curious chimney-sweep possessing curious knowl- . Celebrities in Washington. 397 edge of the Sora Rail, a water bird vulgarly supposed to bury itself in the mud and lie torpid all winter. Accom- panied by John, I took tea at Colonel Abert’s, and ther walked to Mr. Woodbury’s, tospend the evening. ‘There the Colonel handed me an order for the use of the cutter, and informed me that the Treasury Department had sub- scribed for one copy of our work. Mr. Woodbury also offered us a passage to Charleston in the cutter, Camp- bell, about to sail for that station. The vessel is only. fifty-five tons ; and although Columbus crossed the Atlan- tic in search of a new world in a barque yet more frail, and although thy husband would go to the world’s end after new birds on land, he would not like to go from Bal- timore on such a vessel carrying three guns and twenty- one men. Iam now hoping soon to see again the breed- ing grounds of the wood ibis, and the roseate spoonbill. “ November 9. To-day Colonel Abert called with me on Secretary Dickinson, of the navy. He received us frankly, talked of the great naval and scientific expedition round the world now proposed to be fitted out by the government. ‘To my surprise and delight his views co- incided exactly with mine. He said he was opposed to frigates and large ships, and to great numbers of extra sailors on such an enterprise, when only peaceful objects were intended. We differed, however, respecting the number of the scientific corps: he was for a few, and I for duplicates a¢ “ast; because in case of death or illness some of the departments of science would suffer if only one person were sent. He asked me respecting the fit- ness of certain persons whose names had been mentioned for the voyage. But I gave evasive answers, not wishing to speak of individuals who are both unfit and inimical to me to this very day. Most sincerely do I hope that this, our first great national expedition, may succeed, not only for the sake of science, but also for the honor of our be: 398 Life of Audubon. loved country. I strongly recommended George Lehman, my former assistant, as he is in every respect one of the best general draftsmen I know. I also recommended the son of Dr. McMurtrie (how strange, you will say), and young Reynolds, of Boston, as an entomologist. “The secretary paid me some compliments, and told me the moment the expedition had been mentioned he had thought of me, and Nuttall, and Pickering—a glorious trio! I wish to God that I were young once more; how delighted I would be to go in such company, learned men and dear friends. He also took us to his house, to see the work published by the French government, of the voyages of L’Athalie, and presented by that government to our own. It is a magnificent production, quite French, and quite perfect. I next took John to the White House, which is the vulgar name for the President’s residence. Mr. Earle introduced us, and John saw for the first time that extraordinary man, General Andrew Jackson. He was very kind, and as soon as he heard that we intended departing to-morrow evening for Charleston, invited us to dine with him ez famille. At the named hour we went to _ the White House, and were taken into a room, where the President soon joined us. I sat close to him ; we spoke of olden times, and touched slightly on politics, and I found him very averse to the cause of the Texans. We talked also of the great naval expedition, European af- fairs, &c. Dinner being announced, we went to the table with his two nephews, Colonel Donaldson being in the truest sense of the word a gentleman. ‘The dinner was what might be called plain and substantial in England ; I dined from a fine young turkey, shot within twenty miles of Washington. The general drank no wine, but his health was drunk by us more than once ; and he ate very moderately, his last dish consisting of bread and milk. As soon as dinner was over we returned to the first room, Dines with General Fackson. 399 where was a picture, ay, a picture of our great Washing- ton, painted by Stewart, when in the prime of his age and art. This picture, Lucy, was found during the war with England by Mrs. Madison, who had it cut out of the frame, rolled up, and removed to the country, as Mr. Earle told me. It is the only picture in the whole house —so much for precious republican economy. Coffee was handed, and soon after John and I left, bidding adieu to a man who has done much good and much evil to our country.” fr =i ceo POI 95 S000 20 CHAPTER XXXIV. 4 Excursion South—Starts in Cutter for Galveston Bay, Texas—Buara: taria Bay—Great Hunting Excirsion with a Squatter—WNotes in Texas-—Wretched Popuiation~-Buffalo Bayou—Texan Capitol and Flouses of Congress—Reaches New Orleans—Charleston—ln England Again—Literary Labors—Back to America. sa TARLESTON, S. C., November 17, 1836. We 34| arrived here last evening, after an irksome and fa- A F4 tiguing journey, and seemingly very slowly per- formed, in my anxiety to reach a resting place, where friendship and love would combine to render our time happy, and the prosecution of our labor pleasant. We were hungry, thirsty, and dusty as ever two men could be ; but we found our dear friends all well, tears of joy ran from their eyes, and we embraced the whole of them as if born from one mother. John Bachman was absent from home, but returned at nine from his presidential chair at the Philosophical Society.” Audubon passed the winter of 1836 and 1837 in Charleston, with his friend Dr. Bachman, making occa- sional excursions into the country, to the neighboring sea islands, and also to Savannah and Florida. But the Seminole war then raging, he was unable to penetrate much into the interior. This winter he began the studies in Natural History, which led to the publication of the Quadrupeds of North America, in connection with Dr. Bachman. Early in the spring, he appears to have left Charleston, in the revenue cutter Campbell, Captain Coste, for explorations in the Gulf of Mexico. The jour- nals are lost which describe the interval between the 17th of January and the 1st of April, under which latter date VA Barataria Bay. 401 we read that Audubon, his son John, and Mr. Edward Harris, came down from New Orleans, in the cutter, to the S. W. pass, provisioned for two months, and bound westwardly from the mouth of the Mississippi to Galves- ton Bay, in Texas, with the intention of exploring the harbors, keys, and bayous along the coast, and to examine the habits of the birds of this region, and to search for new species, to furnish materials for the completion cf the fourth volume of the “ Birds of America.” “ April 3. We were joined this day by Captain W. B. G. Taylor, of the Revenue service, with the schooner Crusader, twelve tons burden, two guns, and four men completely equipped for our expedition, with a supply of seines, cast-nets, and other fishing-tackle.” The same day they entered Barataria Bay, and began operations, and found a variety of birds which are de- scribed in the journal. The next day the party landed, and made excursions in different directions, in pursuit of birds and eggs. Among the spoils of game taken this day, were two white pelicans, of which. there was an abundance. The next three weeks were spent in visiting the islands and bayous, and penetrating some of the rivers which pour into the latter that occur along the coast be- tween the Mississippi river and Galveston. The parties landed at various points, and found many new species of birds, and other interesting objects of Natural History. In the course of one of these rambles, Audubon made the acquaintance of a squatter, a great hunter, and with whom he went on an excursion, which is thus de- scribed :— “T entered the squatter’s cabin, and immediately opened a conversation with him respecting the situation of the swamp and its natural productions. He told me: he thought it the very place I ought to visit, spoke of the 402 _— Life of Audubon. game which it contained, and pointed to some bear and deer skins, adding, that the individuals to which they had belonged formed but a small portion of the number of those animals which he had shot within it. My heart swelled with delight ; and on asking if he would accom- pany me through the great swamp, and allow me to be: come an inmate of his laumble but hospitable mansion, I was gratified to find that he cordially asserted to all my proposals, so I immediately unstrapped my drawing ma- terials, Jaid up my gun, and sat down to partake of the homely but wholesome fare intended for the supper of the squatter, his wife, and his two sons. The quietness of the evening seemed in perfect accordance with the gentle demeanour of the family. The wife and children, I more than once thought, seemed to look upon me as a strange sort of person, going about, as I told them I was, in search of birds and plants ; and were I here to relate the many questions which they put to me, in return for those which I addressed to them, the catalogue would oc- cupy several pages. The husband, a native of Connecti- cut, had heard of the existence of such men as myself, both in our own country and abroad, and seemed greatly pleased to have me under his roof. Supper over, I ask- ed my kind host what had induced him to remove to this wild and solitary spot. ‘The people are growing too numerous now to thrive in New England,’ was his an- swer. I thought of the state of some parts of Europe, and calculating the denseness of their population, com- pared with that of New England, exclaimed to myself, how much more difficult must it be for men to thrive in those populous countries! The conversation then changed, and the squatter, his sons and myself spoke of hunting and fishing, until at length tired, we laid our- selves down on pallets of bear-skins. and reposed in peace on the floor of the only apartment of which the hut con- A Panther Hunt. 403 sisted. Day dawned, and the squatter’s call to his hogs, which, being almost in a wild state, were suffered to seek the greater portion of their food in the woods, awakened me. Being ready dressed, I was not long in joining him. The hogs and their young came grunting at the well- known call of their owner, who threw them a few ears of corn, and counted them, but told me that for some weeks their number had been greatly diminished by the ravages committed upon them by a large panther, by which name the cougar is designated in America, and that the raven- ous animal did not content himself with the flesh of his pigs, but now and then carried off one of his calves, not- withstanding the many attempts he had made to shoot it. _ The ‘painter,’ as he sometimes called it, had on several occasions robbed him of a dead deer; and to these ex- ploits, the squatter added several remarkable feats of au- dacity which it had performed, to give me an idea of the formidable character of the beast. Delighted by his de- scription, I offered to assist him in destroying the ene- my ; at which he was highly pleased, but assured me that unless some of his neighbors should join us with their dogs and his own, the attempt would prove fruitless. Soon after, mounting a horse, he went off to his neigh- bors, several of whom lived at a distance of some miles, and appointed a day of meeting. ‘The hunters accord- ingly made their appearance one fine morning at the door of the cabin, just as the sun was emerging from beneath the horizon. ‘They were five in number, and fully equip- ped for the chase, being mounted on horses, which in some parts of Europe might appear sorry nags, but which in strength, speed, and bottom, are better fitted for pursuing a cougar or a bear through woods and mo- rasses than any in their country. A pack of large ugly curs was already engaged in making acquaintance with those of the squatter. He and myself mounted his two 404 Life of Audubon. best horses, whilst his sons were bestriding others of ins ferior quality. Few words were uttered by the party until we had reached the edge of the swamp, where it was agreed that all should disperse, and seek for the fresh track of the ‘painter,’ it being previously settled that the discoverer should blow his horn, and remain on the spot until the rest should join him. In less than an hour the sound of the horn was clearly heard, and _stick- ing close to the squatter, off we went through the thick woods, guided only by the now-and-then repeated call of the distant huntsman. We soon reached the spot, and in a short time the rest of the party came up. The best dog was sent forward to track the cougar, and in a few momvnts the whole pack was observed diligently trailing and bearing in their course for the interior of the swamp. The rifles were immediately put in trim, and the party. followed the dogs at separate distances, but in sight of each other, determined to shoot at no other game than the panther. “The dogs soon began to mouth, and suddenly quickened their pace. My companions concluded that the beast was on the ground, and putting our horses to a gentle gallop, we followed the curs, guided by their voices. ‘The noise of the dogs increased, when all of a sudden their mode of barking became altered, and the squatter urging me to push on, told me that the beast was treed, by which he meant, that it had got upon some low branch of a large tree to rest for a few moments, and that should we not succeed in shooting him when thus situated, we might expect a long chase of it. As we ap- proached the spot, we all by degrees united into a body, but on seeing the dogs at the foot of a large tree, sepa- rated again, and galloped off to surround it. Each hunt- er now moved with caution, holding his gun ready, and allowing the bridle to dangle on the neck of his horse, as A Panther Hunt. 405 it advanced slowly towards the dogs. A shot from one of the party was heard, on which the cougar was seen to “eap to the ground, and bound off with such velocity as to show that he was very unwilling to stand our fire longer. The dogs set off in pursuit with great eagerness, and a deafening cry. The hunter who had fired came up and said that his ball had hit the monster, and had prob- ably broken one of his forelegs, near the shoulder, the only place at which he could aim. A slight trail of blood was discovered on the ground, but the curs pro-, ‘ceeded at such a rate that we merely noticed this, and put spurs to our horses, which galloped on towards the centre of the swamp. One bayou was crossed, then another still larger and more muddy, but the dogs were brushing forward, and as the horses began to pant at a furious rate, we judged it expedient to leave them, and advance on foot. These determined hunters knew that the cougar, being wounded, would shortly ascend another tree, where in all probability he would remain for a con- siderable time, and. that it would be easy to follow the track of the dogs. We dismounted, took off the saddles and bridles, set the bells attached to the horses’ necks at liberty to jingle, hoppled the animals, and left them to shift for themselves. Now, kind reader, follow the group marching through the swamp, crossing muddy pools, and making the best of their way over fallen trees, and amongst the tangled rushes that now and then covered acres of ground. If you are a hunter yourself all this will appear nothing to you ; but if crowded assemblies of ‘beauty and fashion,’ or the quiet enjoyment of your ‘pleasure grounds’ delight you, I must mend my pen be- fore I attempt to give you an idea of the pleasure felt on such an expedition. After marching for a couple of hours, we again heard the dogs: each of us pressed for- ward, elated at the thought of terminating the career of 406 Life of Audubon. the cougar. Some of the dogs were heard whining, al- though the greater number barked vehemently. We felt assured that the cougar was treed, and that he would rest for some time to recover from his fatigue. As we came up to the dogs, we discovered the ferocious animal lying across a large branch, close to the trunk of a cotton-wood tree. His broad breast lay towards us ; his eyes were at one time bent on us and again on the dogs beneath and around him ; one of his fore-legs hung loosely by his side, . and he lay crouched, with his ears lowered close to his head, as if he thought he might remain undiscovered. Three balls were fired at him at a given signal, on which he sprang a few feet from the branch, and tumbled head- long to the ground, attacked on all sides by the enraged curs. ‘The infuriated cougar fought with desperate valour ; but the squatter advancing in front of the party, and, almost in the midst of the dogs, shot him immedi- ately behind and beneath the left shoulder. ‘The cougar writhed for a moment in agony, and in another lay dead. The sun was now sinking in the west. Two of the hunt- ers separated from the rest to procure venison, whilst the squatter’s sons were ordered to make the best of their way home, to be ready to feed the hogs in the morning. The rest of the party agreed to camp on the spot. The cougar was despoiled of his skin, and the carcass left to the hungry dogs. Whilst engaged in preparing our camp, we heard the report of a gun, and soon after one of our hunters returned with a small deer.