i”.

ae
ares

xs

Se
makes

aX es en
5 No BOS
wpa Se

TT,

1924 090 302 112

Cornell University

Library

The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.

There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.

http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924090302112

THE HUNTER-NATURALIST.

ROMANCE OF SPORTING;

oR,

WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

|
By ©. W. WEBBER,

AUTHOR OF

“gHOT IN THE EYE,” “OLD IMICKS THE GUIDE,” “ONARLES WINTERFIELD PAPERS,”
“GOLD MINES OF THE GILA,” ETC. ETC.

PHILADELPHIA:
J B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.
1865.,

MHD
Seed. Col?
Sk
35
w37¥
B57

Enxterep according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by
LIPPINCOTT. GRAMBO & CO.
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Uvurt of the Eastern District of Pennsy!vama.

INTRODUCTION.

Tue first volume of the Hunter-Naturauist is merely
introductory to what I propose to make, in every sense, a
‘‘ progressive” series of seven volumes.

My cherished object in this undertaking is, to introduce
within the general scope of Polite Literature, a popular
Natural History: upon the production of which I have so
brought to bear the latest discoveries of Science, in the
application of mechanical forces to pictorial illustration, as
to cheapen all their cost without any deterioration of artistic
value; and bring the essential spirit of what have been here-
tofore as sealed books, from their excessive costliness, within
the reach of the People.

Then, again, what I mean by “popular” is to be found
in a regard of the highest sense of this vulgarized and
misused term in contrast with that of the scholastic use of
“technical’’—a work belonging rather to the general litera-
ture than technical science of Natural History—treating of
its facts as well as cognate associations. A work, indeed,
aiming to be as gay as it is grave—as fanciful as it is
profound—as theoretical as accurate—as full of flesh and
blood as of philosophy—as human as it is transcendental—
as rhapsodically intoxicate as the hale air and blithe sunshine
out-of-doors can make it—and just sufficiently spiced with
“learning” not to make one “mad.” A work in which the
Animal Kingdom shall illustrate the Spiritual, and the Spirit-
ual the Animal, as well. A work in which Bird and Beast
shall be humanized to Man through Nature, and Man shown
to have been inhumanized to Beast and Bird through Society
—which shall rebuke fanaticism for its ignorance of natural
laws, while it shall plead against wantonness with our race

for reconciliation and for mercy to the humblest of Go's
3

4 INTRODUCTION.

creatures ;—in a word, which shall endeavor always, and in
every country, to present the Human Actor with the natural
scene—the hunter with the hunted—and the Hunter-Natural-
ist, placed amidst his chosen accessories, however remotg,
whether of climate, individual action and adventure, or the
living and characteristic objects of his pursuit.

. And who is this Hunter-Naturalist? I answer, something
of the Primitive Hunter and modern Field-Naturalist com-
bined. The name best defines itself—since Hunter-Naturalist
implies at once a rugged and freebooter intrusion into the
realms of Nature, in which the nice mail of Science has ex-
changed its glitter and its polish for the greasy, powder-black-
ened, blood-stained buckskins of the rough, earnest wilderness.

While pretending to no dainty refinements of technical
accuracy, if his clear eye, aided by his stout limbs, explores,
discovers and assists to glorify, through art and thought, the
wide fields of Natural Science, I see no good reason why his
pale Brother of the Closet should sneer at him if he forgets
his Latin in a “‘ stampede,” or spells the jaw-cracking name of
a genus wrong, when his notes are often written, as much py
the flashes of the covering storm, or the smouldering light of
a half-drowned fire, as by honest sun light,

Familiar with Nature in all her modes and moods, the
Hunter-Naturalist is he who being accustomed to know her
through the medium of his own senses rather than books, should
only be held responsible, in a scientific sense, for what he him-
self has felt, seen, tasted, smelt, heard, and thought, out in
unchallenged communion with the secrets of his great Mother.
His observations then are essentially his own.

They but constitute one man’s impressions of Nature, and
convey an individual method of expressing them, which may
be as reliable in the facts presented,—to say the least of it,
—as if they had been drained, diluted, altered and amended
through the musty pages of an hundred folios.

Not that I would presume by any means to arrogate for

INTRODUCTION. i

the Hunter-Naturalist, even under my own comprehensive
definition of his mission, any independence of his pale
Brother, so far as his relations to absolute science are con-
cerned. His individual observations would soon become, to
the stern accuracy of practical classification, more crude
than savage myths; and his deductions vaguer than the
shadows of a day-dream—but that when submitted to this
colder, more learned, and deliberate analysis, his “ facts’ and
his “‘ discoveries” have been inexorably technicalized.

Yet from my earliest childhood I have felt individually
wronged when constantly compelled to turn from the dry,
inert and formal methods of “the Books,” to the gay, sug-
gestive or subtile treatment of the Goldsmiths, Huberts and
St. Pierres, who have spoken so successfully for the People,
the charmed “ sesame’’ of Science—or else in hopeless sense
of the comparatively narrowed artificialities of each, have
thrown myself back, with a calmed and steadied enthusiasm,
upon the devouter study of those green and living pages of the
Natural World, which have never yet failed me in their truth.

Thus in assuming my position with regard to the method of
treating the subjects of Natural History, to be observed in
this work, the whole matter has resolved itself with me into
the simple question whether “lion-heart” and “eagle-eye”’
shall be banished from heroic poetry, because they lack the
learned prefixes of Aguille and Leonis—or sentimental
rhymes resign all images of “plaintive Philomels,” “ cooing
Doves,” and “Gazelle eyes,”’ because they are not defined to
the people according to the “dead letter” of Museum cata-
logues?—or, indeed, whether it be vitally essential to the
general purposes of human enlightenment, that “all the world”
should become strictly technical Naturalists, in the scientific
sense, before the many who possess an eye for the Beautiful, an
ear for its language, a spiritual recognition of its unities, and
heart for the joy it brings, can be admitted to its presence?

It is thus the feeling has continued to grow with my
growth, and strengthen with my strength, that the Literature

6 INTRODUCTION.

of Natura] History has been too much circumscribed within
the mere formulas of Scientific utility to meet the mental
requisitions of the period in its text, or the practical demand
for cheapness in its illustration, which the rapid progress
of discoyery in this department clearly demands! I have,
therefore, i in bringing this enterprise to a head, consistently
acted with an early conceived purpose, that so far as the
devotion of individual energies could go, the General Mind
should no longer be thus rudely shut off from the contempla-
tion of themes which, in their free and legitimate presenta-
tion, are the most healthful, refreshing and ennobling! I
speak this in no arrogance, for of such I have no sense—but
of a collected purpose. <n

I have remarked that this first Volume is put forward as
merely an introductory to the Series. My object has been
to present my Reader at once to the Hunter-Naturalist in
that broad and comprehensive meaning of the character which
it implies to me. The Narrative and Sketchy form into which
I have moulded this Volume, is to continue a distinctive feature
of the Series. The wild creature and its Human peer must go
together in our treatment—the one re-acts upon and modifies
the other; let us exhibit the passions and the life of both.
Therefore, in each successive volume, whether it be the Wild
Indian and his Buffalo—the Trapper and his Beaver—the
buck-skinned Nomad of Art and Science, with Specimen-box
and precious Port-folio of Drawings—or the amateur Adven-
turer with his insatiable appetite for novelty—however foreign,
strange, or distant such may be, they shall appear amidst their
separate accessories of the Animal World.

Each Volume shall contain at least five such Plates as those
we give in this, devoted to the illustration of the Wild Scenes
of our own Indian Border Life, which will be furnished from
the noble and unequalled pencil of Alfred J. Miller, of Bal-
timore, who accompanied Sir William Drummond Stuart, on
his noted expedition among the Indian Tribes of the Plains,
as Artist. How splendidly he has accomplished his mission,

INTRODUCTION, 7

those who may not be familiar with his former works will at
once comprehend, in Jooking over the five first Lithographs in
this volume. I say with perfect confidence that it remains
yet for Art in this country, to approach the amazing fidelity
and spirit of these Drawings—and his glorious Portfolio is but
yet just opened! I shall give in addition—as in this volume—-

five other Lithographs of Foreign Scenes quite as elaborately
drawn, but of less costly finish. And I hope so far to perfect,

through the skill of my Lithographer, Mr. Rosenthall, the
processes by which he has produced these unparalleled speci-
mens of the art of Printing in colors upon stone, as to be able
to present all the figures of animal life in color and at a cost
which will come within the limit of that of the present volume.
This I shall regard as indeed a triumph. But the Reader will
perceive, that in the singular skill with which the colorist and
lithographer, have produced the pictures for this volume, I
and he have much to anticipate. I hope through such able
seconding to demonstrate, that the art of printing in colors,
which is yet in embryo in Europe, has been left for us to de-.
velope in this country, as we have that of Daguerreotyping.

I scarcely think that any specimens of that mysterious art
can be produced in England, where it has been longest a
subject of emulation, that will compare with my first five litho-
graphs by Rosenthall and Kramer, from Miller—at least I
am very well content to abide the issue of public sentiment
with regard to this first experiment in a novel field !

Here I would introduce to the Reader a new ally—such an
one as certainly is not often presented in such enterprises.
This is no less a personage than my “little Wife,” Mrs. E. M.
Webber, whose portrait you see associated with my own yn
the title page of this volume. She is an Artist; and to her
hand I am indebted for much of the fine work in illustration
of this volume. But this is not her peculiar field—the delicate
accuracy of the Woman artist will be more prominently and
sharacteristically displayed in our second volume, the title
of which will be “ Wild Scenes and Song Birds of the World.”

8 INTRODUCTION.

The drawings of birds and flowers for this and all succecd-
ing volumes, will be by her; and I rest most proud and happy
with such a “help-mete” in my labors!

In presenting this first volume to the Public, I have felt
a proper diffidence in regard to the whole subject of scientific
classification, and have therefore solicited and fortunately ob-
tained aid in the highest legitimate quarter known amongst us.

Mr. John Cassin, the Secretary of the Academy of Natural
Sciences in Philadelphia, has consented to edit, with me, the
future volumes of the series ; so that my subscribers and readers
may not only rely upon the scientific accuracy of the work
through his learned supervision of this department, but may
as well look for a ripe, quaint and scholastic vein of humor,
such as has seldom been brought to bear upon such themes,
and which will form a pleasing contrast with my own head-
long methods. I thus hope to offer a work which shall be
complete in itself, as a Salmagundi of the facts, thoughts
and suggestions of the natural world, with enough of technical
accuracy to constitute it a reliable authority to the Student
of Science, and a sufficiency of genial reverence, gaiety and
kindliness, to render it always a safe, welcome and valued
companion of the fireside, into the chaste penetralia of which I
so much desire to win my way. We should not be permitted to
rest unconscious of the sacred serenities of Nature; all the har-
monies rest therein and they bring peace with them! Though
men may grow callous and dumb in listening forever to the
clink of dollars, shall not the sense of their fair children be
attuned to voices m@e soft, more mellowed, more divine!

In conclusion, I would remark, that for my wood-cuts I
am indebted to Mr. Joseph T. Brightly, who has not only
performed his part as an engraver ably, but has with an
unexpected skill, thrown himself into the department of
design, and furnished me with the rough draughts of many
of my finest wood-cuts. To Mr. A. Woodside, artist of this
city, I'am also much indebted for a number of highly artistie
drawings on wood.

CONTENTS.

°
CHAPTER I, PAGE,
Bira, Beast, and Humter.......... ..sssseccevsecesseessssssoeeeereueee 17
CHAPTER II.
The Boy Hunter syacasveos sews stent. auevedessedecsveseresessecusxssiees 34
CHAPTER III.
The Naturalist Developing ..............sscssssesesecesenseeeeenssees 54
CHAPTER IV.
The Night Hunt in Recess.............sscecsssssecevereeeetsesoesees 75
CHAPTER V.
Audubon—the Hunter-Naturalist—Audubon and Wilson....... 87
CHAPTER VI.
Audubon and Boone ..........c.ccscesseescsecsceucerecseesceeseueecace 123
CHAPTER VIL
The Grave of the Silent Hunter..............:ccecsescsesesseeceerees 191
CHAPTER VIII.
Old Bill Smith—the Silent Hunter..............ccccccesceseeeenees 211
CHAPTER IX.
The Hunters of Kentucky—James Harrod of Harrodsburg..... 231
CHAPTER X.
The Fox and Fox Hunting in America..........cccscccsesssceeees 248
CHAPTER XI.
The Texan Huntress'.c.s0cseveccsessecssivedescassecesasccesecee sevens 274
CHAPTER XII.
Metaphysics of Bear Hunting..............sssssseescsccseeecanenseers 343

CHAPTER XIII.
Hunting Peccaries in Texas—a Bear-Hunt without the Meta-
PHYBiCS.....-ereressssrsessseesereresrecessersssssesttersreenssserees 381

10 CONTEN LS.

PAGE
CHAPTER XIV.

The Baffalo ......cccceeceecce cece cece ceeecccerssececsseacss ODF

CHAPTER- XV.
Panthers, and our other Felines ....... Gilavtvelle “erciasatteiaiaeinvalsieyeiess e'arene 403
CHAPTER XVI. .
Captain Dan Henrie; his Adventure with Wolves.......++.see-+ 425
CHAPTER XVII.
The Darkie Fiddler and the Wolves......-..-ssseecesecoeeeves 446
CHAPTER XVIII...
Skater Chased by Wolves. .......0scecscccccncssecscccsceseces 454

CHAPTER XIX.
The Mustang, or Wild Horse ......... see cecescccceesecceesss 460

CHAPTER XX.
A Bird’s-eye View of the Speclater......... Seuleew ene weeGee tess 472

CHAPTER XXI.
Trolling in June ......0. cece cece cece cece ceteectecncenceseees 482

CHAPTER XXII.

A Night-hunt up the Cungamunck ........ se seeeccee seer eees 492
CHAPTER XXIII.
Lrouting on Jessup’s River........ see cece sees cess cece sccnens 503

CHAPTER XXIV.
Anecdotes of Moose and Deer Hunting among the Northern Lakes. 515

CHAPTER XXY.
Hunting Elephants in South Africa ............ cece cece eceeens 536

CHAPTER XXVI.
The Gitathesss sissaisc sie sees sg eucsaceae ea celeste sidibvaverbataleuya dus 561

CHAPTER XXVII.

South African Lions. .... 0... cee cece cent eee ceescesecscneans DTD
CHAPTER XXVIII.

The Rhinoceros and Hippopotamus.......e+eseeeeeeeseeeeeeees 594

CHAPTER XXIX,
Buffalo and Antelopes of South Africa....cse.s.ssececceeeseees 604

‘ THE WILD HUNTSMAN.

THE ROMANCE OF SPORTING,

CHAPTER I.
BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER.

Tue air is filled with birds that fly, and are pursued by
bird and beast. The earth, with beasts that run, and are
pursued by beast and bird; while man, in a world of pursuers
and pursued, is chief hunter of them all!

Whatever may have been the case in primeval times, it
certainly seems very natural now that our relations to the living
creatures by which we are surrounded should be mainly those
of hunter and the hunted; and that these relations should be
most immediate to bird and beast seems equally of course,
since they more nearly appro us on the ascending scale

LT

18 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

of being. But these most intimate relations to the life below
us express far more than is conveyed in mere consanguinity,
for they are each separate and living types of our compounded

selves.
Thus we see in the bird the type of our intellect—of the

soul. We feel that they address the imagination, appeal to
what is exulting and exalting in us—to “the aspiration in
our heels !”

The beast, on the other hand, is the type of our sensuous
life—it appeals to our material and lower impulses. It pre-
figures and embodies individually those purely physical attri-
butes which we find expressed in man the Microcosm. In a
word, quadrupeds are the indices of our passions which belong
to sense; and birds, of our passions which belong to soul.
The bird has wings, and like thought, triumphs over time
and space. It lives in the pure ether, and all its modes and
associations are apparently those of the soul’s life.

‘¢ As birds within the wind
As fish within the wave,

As the thought of man’s own mind
Floats through all above the grave.”

Even the impulses of the bird are those of cold and clear
intellection. When it strikes it kills—the quick, fierce,
promptitude of appetite knows no pause. It never dallies
with the prey, to gloat upon its agonies and heat a hunger
on the struggles of fear in the efforts to escape, as do the
felines and many others of the quadrupeds. With it to feel
is to do, and to do quickly. Vent, vidi, vici! is the accepted
motto of fiery, keen, victorious thought. They are the vicious
and ignoble sluggards of action that creep to conquer. The
beast is crushed by its grossness, and in its highest moods is
a crawler, with its belly in the dust. Even in the exultings
of its passion, in the murderous bound upon its prey, it must
shake the earth from its claws. It is indeed, “of the earth,

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER. 19

earthy,” and associated with the baseness and lowliness of
filth and dirt. However nice it may be, however intact of
the habitual soil it may keep its pelage, yet are its appetites
thirsty for blood like the absorbing earth ; its passions linger-
ing, deadly, but sure as the revolving seasons. Birds do not
linger so. When they strike, it is for the death; and then,
with no pause between, they swallow. Sometimes, as with
many of the fishers, they do not even tarry that they may
tear their prey, but deglutate alive.

As with the higher intellection, alimentation seems with
the bird rather a means than anend. Life has higher blisses
for them, and they eat to live; while the animal but lives to
eat. The joy of wings, of sunshine and of singing, of battle
with the wind and storms, of rocking on the wave of forest-
tops, or swinging with the bound of waters, is with the bird
the nobler purpose; while the beast must lick its thirsty
chops forever, and with baleful eye glare always the insatiate
lust of ravin through the smiles of peaceful nature !

With all this we have to confess that as yet the beast
more closely approximates our sympathies, appeals to us
through more numerous traits of consanguinity than the
bird. This, though honest, and sufficiently honorable to us,
is nevertheless most humiliating to a transcendental pride.

They who would have the human all spiritualized, with
wings, forget that such conditions belong to a remote de-
velopment, or the other life; that, linked as we are here with
the material, it is as brave of us, and as necessary, that we
should be true animals, as that we should be true angels.
Our mingled being can, as yet, be neither one nor the other
wholly, but must wisely compound between the extremes, and
be simply what we are—men! As men, then, all the vene-
rable past is sacred to our memory, as the cheerful future
is to our hope. The youth of humanity, in which the mate-
rial or passionate life predominated so much over the spiritual,
was just as excellent and as noble as its present condition.

20 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Our past is as illustrious in its facts as our futuro can ever
be in its hopes. We should as much venerate that antediluvian
era in which our giant progenitors wrestled hand to claw
with their brute antagonists, as this latter one, in which our
science, through chemistry and mechanics, has so entirely
quelled and fully restrained them.

Although fanatics may regard this proposition as crude
and profane, it is, nevertheless, absolutely true, that begin-
ning with germination, every stage of development to its
highest point, is equally honorable and to be honored. Is
the flower with the sun-light on it more to be regarded than
the first pale leaf which struggles to the air from out the
gloomy foldings of the earth? Is the great tree, bending
beneath the ruddy weight of fruitage, more respectable in
God’s economy of progress, than the small dark seed from the
entombment of which its proud show is the resurrection ?

Struggle, throughout all life, so far as it has been revealed
to us, is the law of ascension, as well as of fixed grades; and
hence we justify all those rude antagonisms between man and
man, which a namby-pamby sentimentalism would convert
into the “piping times of peace.” War is a legitimate con-
sequence of the conditions of our race, and all the concomitants
of war, martial games, hunting, &c., are equally legitimate.
It is astonishing that the lymphatic “peace” men should leave
out of view the fact, that when battle and death shall cease,
the whole animal world must be annihilated. In the first
place, even the graminivorous animals live upon the destruction
of some forms of animal life. There is no blade of grass or
leaf plucked by them, upon which myriads of animalcule and
hundreds of insects are not destroyed—they cannot move
upon the surface of the earth without destroying such crea-
tures—every lifting of a hoof leaves crushed and writhing
victims in its track, and when the foot comes down, it is like
Behemoth raging through the thronged cities of men. The
law is, that animal life must be perpetuated through death

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER. 21

und decay. The carnivorous animals confessedly live by mu-
tual destruction. How ridiculous is the effort to institute a
scale of sympathy, at the head of which: the red-blooded ani-
mals are to be placed as more nearly appealing to our mercy.
They are, to be sure, nearest in fact, for the reason that we
too are red-blooded animals.

What right have we to suppose that the animalcule or a
caterpillar does not experience the same pangs from sudden
dissolution, that are felt by ourselves, or a stag or a boar?
What difference, in this respect, does it make whether the
blood of the slain creature be red, green or white? Is not
every vegetable devoured, even by your Grahamite, a micro-
cosm of the world, and like it populous with living’ things ?
If then the destruction of animal life be a crime, does He
who marks the fall of every sparrow, regard with less com-
placency this wholesale annihilation of a* little world, with all
its joys and passions, by the remorseless jaws of that soft-
hearted vegetable eater? Four-fifths of the creatures which
are visible to the naked’eye live in our sight upon mutual
destruction—while the remaining fifth live by the destruction
of those creatures of the existence of which the microscope
has taught us! Where will our sickly benevolence stop? All
things that live in the grades below man are the fungi of decay,
and all that is material of him is alike so! Death is indeed
so entirely the law of life, that though fed on air you must
do murder with every breath; it is the fuel of all life, except,
perhaps, that of baby ethics, alias, transcendentalism !

Why, then, give to the red-blooded animals so dispropor-
tionate an amount of sympathy? The monadic, vegetable
and insect lives, are as necessary to the economy of God’s
World, as he has been pleased to institute it, as our own, or
the lives of any other of the higher animals.

Indeed, it is a curious fact, entirely left out of view in
modern theories, that even the lustful battles of the animal
tribes among themselves, are necessary to their own integrity

22 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

and perpetuation. In these battles, which always result in
mutilation and death to many, the strong, of course, conquer,
and the weak being killed or driven off, are prevented from
perpetuating their own imbecility, and thus degenerating the
race. All are familiar with the savage contests of the ca-
nines, felines, &c. At such periods, even among the grami-
nivorous tribes, old Spencer tells of

“ As greet a noyse as when in Cymbrian plain

An heard of bulles whome kindly rage doth sting,
Doe for the milky mother’s want complain,

And fill the fields with troublous bellowing.”

It is a fact, with regard to the habits of the Mustangs, or
wild horses of our great prairies, which we have frequently
observed personally, that the weaker stallions are invariably,
after desperate contests, either killed or driven into solitary
banishment, from which they never return to the herd, until
their strength and prowess have been so far developed in the
solitude, as to give them some hopes of being able to triumph
in a renewed struggle with their conquerors. The mares, in
the mean time, are passive observers, and surrender without
hesitation, to whichever of the opponents may have demon-
strated the right to approach them legitimately. There is a
still more curious instance, which we have learned from books,
of this stern recognition of the utilitarian principle amongst
the lower animals. The stork, which belongs to the old
world, and is a migrating bird, furnishes this illustration. It
is said, that when the period for their annual.journey arrives,
all those storks who neighbor in the district assemble, as do
our martins and swallows, at a given place, for the purpose
of practising their wings, and thoroughly testing their powers
of flight, before they set off on their long pilgrimage towards
the Orient. After several weeks, spent in erial circlings and
evolutions, the stronger storks suddenly fall upon those which
have shown, in this probation, such deficient energy of wing,

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER. 23

as to make it unsafe for them to undertake the projected
flight, without embarrassment to their comrades, and dispatch
them with their long sharp beaks, sending them as quickly
thumping to the earth, as if a rifle-ball had struck them to
the heart. Here is a necessitarian justice, coming out of the
code God himself has instituted for the government of his
natural world, which will no doubt greatly horrify the sickly
word-heroes of the anti-capital punishment and non-resistant
creeds. Although God himself has established these severe
ultimatums, there are those wiser than he, who would substi-
tute their own pale shadows of thought for the nervous sub-
stance of his will!

I do not deny progress, even in the fanatics’ sense of it;
but I assert that war has been one of its greatest physica:
agents; that it has convulsed and broken up those stagna-
tions of the moral sense which would have been fatal to it.
Though the necessity for war is gradually giving way to the
higher and more defined development of the spiritual life,
yet it must, for a long time yet, continue to be an important
agent of civilization.

Do not let us, in the meantime, forget that the vocation of
the soldier and laborer is as honorable in God’s sight, and as
necessary to the real progress of humanity, as that of the
intellectualist. And do not let us forget, either, that all
those associations of the past, which link our race more imme-
diately with these under types of passional life, are equally
glorious with that primeval time, when Ham, with the hirsute
strength, and passion for the chase, which gave birth from
him to the stalwart progeny of “mighty hunters before the
Lord,” perpetuated those fierce instincts of combat and
destruction, which have made the gloom as well as the glory
of our progress. Brave times, certainly, were those of

—“‘ Nimrod, the founder
Of empire and chase,

‘Who made the woods wonder,
And quake for their race;
.

24 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

When the lion was young,
In the pride of his might,
Then ’twas sport for the strong
To embrace him in fight:
To go forth with a pine
For a spear ’gainst the mammoth,
Or strike through the ravine
At the foaming behemoth;
While man was in stature
As towers in our time-~
The first-born of nature,
And like her. sublime.”

And something of the same rough stupendous cast from
nature’s mould, must have been an old Briton of that young
time, when the first Roman came across, as the earliest navi-
gator to civilize—for it is certain, that if the Romans came
as conquerors, they came equally as civilizers. And though
they found the man savagely rude, yet, also, they found that
he had taken one step, at least, towards the investment of
civilization. From him Spencer took his famous picture—

« About his shoulders broad he threw

An harie hide of some wild beast, whom hee

In salvage forest by adventure slew,

And reft the spoyle his ornament to bee,

Which spreading all his back with dreadful view,
Made all that him so horrible did see,

Think him Alcides with the lyon’s skin,

When the Neamean conquest he did win.”

And now with the knotted club in hand, the round bull’s-
hide shield advanced, with the long matted locks, hairy limbs,
and savage eyes, we have a pretty clear outline of the fierce
wild figures which met “with dreadful view” the Roman
gallies in the surf on their descent.

They were strange times, too—those of the acorn-eating
Druids. The Man was, in fact, but a few degrees removed
above the brute, from which he

‘‘_——Reft the spoyle his ornament to bee,”

»

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER.

Lo
or

so far as habits went. But habits are not all the man, and
they were most sublime rites, the incense of which went up
from beneath those truest temples—the sacred forests! At
such a period the strong contrasts are exhibited. The brute-
man literally wrestles with his brute prototype for glory,
“spoyle,” and food; while the higher man sits with grey
venerable poll beneath the leafy shadows of his sacred place,
musing beside a rude stone altar; or on the plain, upturns
the white calm of his time-beleagured front towards the stars,
in still communion with their mysteri-s.

Then comes that finer union of the animal and spiritual lives,
when the science of Eld Egypt—the God-revealed legislation
of the Hebrew—the magic of the far wondrous East—the
Jonian polish, and the Roman sternness, had, in their gradual
progress towards the West, so greatly modified human devel-
opment, that, out of such combinations, chivalry sprung forth.
This is that most generous balance of the two natures, which
even at the present day more nearly appeals to our nobier
instincts; and

“In rough magnificence arrayed,
When ancient chivalry displayed

26 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

The pomp of her heroic games,

And crested chiefs and tissued dames
Assembled at the clarion’s call,

In some proud castle’s high arched hall”

—-we have the most illustrious period of our race, in which,
through the expansion of the higher virtues, woman emerged
to her true place, and stood forth in light—the angel of the
fireside! Though the feudal age was partial in its immediate
effects, and the masses were still held in rude vassalage, yet
such developments as came to and for the few, were large
and grand. Then came the accession, though it was much
confined to the privileged classes, of that bold individuality
which dared to question any despotism, or hoary precedent
for truth, and out of which emancipation, sprung those liberal
opinions which have so far through blood and “terror” worked
out the modern ideas of liberty and equality. Thence came,
too, those regal impulses—those mild and liberal sentiments,
which in their open-handed dispensations fell like the benedic-
tion of blessed dews from heaven, upon the feverish embittered
struggle of man with man; and which cooled down their heat,
restoring that calm, mutual faith, that is the basis of any

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER.. 27

attempt at self-government. Thence came as well “the
pomp and circumstance” of tournaments and hunts, in which
“the civil courteseys” of polished intercourse was most deli-
cately defined, even amidst the stern collisions of opposing
forces, and from which all those beautiful amenities, named
politeness by modern civilization, had their truest source.

Then the human chased the brute, surrounded by all the
regalia of a more exalted state, and the physical was culti-
vated through magnificence. Then “crested chiefs, and
tissued dames,” were not above being thoroughly developed
men and women. Animals now arose to a more correct esti-
mation, and under the proper culture, soon became rather the
companions and subjects of our hilarious sports, than abject
slaves and enemies, or objects of alimentive lust. Then the
fleet and fire-eyed barbs were transported from their desert
homes, with all the appointments of a ducal progress, to lend
their game and tireless speed to the ambition of our rural
sports. Then the boar was left to whet his tusks and strength
together in his native and inviolated solitudes, until his savage
energies came to him, and he was fitted to add that hardy
attraction to the chase which danger gives. So was the stag
nourished in those solemn forest haunts where its antlered
pride grew and was matured for the noble struggle of its
chase. Even the falcon, with its steel-hinged wings, and in-
domitable wildness, was brought down from its crag-eyrie to
serve our pastimes; and falconry became the most graceful
of all the sports in which the two sexes elegantly united.
Then came the manly fox hunt, in which sly Reynard’s cun-
ning was made to increase the joviality and excitement of
the pursuit, and from which this creature has made itself
associate with the lusty habitudes and ruddy cheeks of the
English gentry.

But the free and courteous indications thus nourished,
soon opened for the race a new field, as well as novel sur-
roundiags, in which their legitimate results would be wrought

28 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

out fairly. The New World was discovered by a bold in-
auisition of science, which the newly released thought—
exulting in its freedom—could only have attempted; and
was conquered by the proud daring of a chivalry, which was
first sublime to undertake and strong enough to accomplish,
all that its fiery dreams had conceived. Then the Matador
knights of Southern Europe, possessed themselves of gold-bear-
ing, gorgeous Mexico; and the cut-and-thrust agility—the fero-
cious cowardice of their national show, “the bull-fight”—has
been well perpetuated in the assassin’s skill with the assassin’s
blade; and the brutal thirst for blood, wreaking itself the more
mercilessly as the victim is more helpless—which has distin-
guished the modern Mexico of that conquest !

But another people—from the hardy North of ihe Old
World, which has always preserved the physical integrity of
its races—went across to possess the, to them, congenial
North of the New.

The elemental war—the thundering of wind-driven waves
upon “the rock-bound coast’”—the white desolation of snows
crowning the cliffs and bowing the gnarled tangles of scrubby
forests, had no formidable terrors to them—whose manhood
had been cultivated amidst the out-door hardships of those
gallant feudal sports to which we have alluded. They had
been cradled by the tempestuous North, and knew how to
match all its moods in self-defence. They could wrench the
fire from dead trees by friction, and even when this resource
failed, knew how to strip the warm skin from the newly slain
beast to wrap around them in their slumbers, and defy the
winter. They were not appalled by the savage red man with
his scalp lock, for they had conquered brutes as savage in
the wild fastnesses of their mutual home. Though certainly
there is a wide difference between the rough boar hunts,
through which some of our pilgrim fathers may be supposed
to have been habituated to “inminent perils by flood and
field” —to which the knights went forth with their peers

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER. 29

around them, with hundreds of retainers at their heels-—and
those stern conflicts in the wide wilderness of our forests tc
which the single hunter went forth with his rifle and knife;
and in which he had not only to meet in awful solitudes the
bear, the bison, the panther and the moose, but as well, the
still creeping, deadly subtlety of an Indian foe!

The latter had all the aid of numbers, and a common pur-
pose, which, even under imperfect discipline, may convert a
physical coward into the hero. The former, shorn of all
these associations, was compelled to push his way alone into
the grim surrounding of the “howling waste,” and single-
handed cope with all its dangers. He came with nerves of
steel and heart of rock, to subdue the bleak wilderness, and
he accomplished it—though “dark and bloody grounds” may
have marked each arena of his stern and straggling progress !
His own quick senses, and his prompt right arm were his
only dependences for the preservation of “dear life!” It is
not at all astonishing, then, that from the nurturings of such
scenes and habitudes, that bold and strong individuality, that
untamable self-reliance, which constitutes the basis of self-
government and a free republic, should have come forth
cap-a-pie, to assert its claim to national character, in the
eight, or even had it been necessary, the eighteen years’ war
of a revolution. The war of the Revolution, and every one
that has occurred since, proves, that however deficient in
discipline, the North Americans are the best individual sol-
diers that the world hasever known. The remarkable skill in
rifle shooting, and the constant familiarity with sudden exi-
gencies of the ruder sports of hunting, which the every-day
habitudes of their wild life has given them, has fitted almost
every common soldier for the station of an officer, so far as
skill, coolness, promptness and self-dependence can go.

All the impulsion of our national character—all of the
hardy, stern, resolute and generous that may be native, we
take through the noble blood of our hunter ancestors. That

30 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

terrible soldiery which devastated Mexico, was composed of
hunters almost to a man; the eagle they carried before them
was a hunting bird—the fierce-eyed king of the winged hunters!

To me, the wild and peculiar sports of our country, are
as noble and ennobling subjects of curiosity, as I feel our
science should be of jealous accuracy, and philosophy of
liberal breadth. Our physical character has been quite as
much developed by the first, as our intellectual or moral by
the second, and our spiritual by the last.

Here, the civilized man, the savage and the brute have
been brought into extraordinary relations. Nor is this all.
It is through this remarkable collision, that a more intimate
knowledge of the habits of all the forms of animal life has
been obtained in the New World than has come through
any other source. The savage was the earliest and most
accurate student of their habits, from the necessities of his
condition, which compelled him to familiarize himself with
all their moods, in view of the facilities for capture, which
the want of food and raiment entailed. His familiarity with
such themes was then purely compulsory, while that of
our American pioneers has been nearly quite as much
so. They, too, were bound to be naturalists. They came
to the unbroken solitudes to cope with the savage in the
conditions of his own life. Though they had more science,
and a better architecture, yet were they equally dependant
for subsistence upon personal prowess. They were com-
pelled to learn from their savage antagonist—as thty could,
through their manner of taking them—the nature and habits
of the new animal races amongst which they found them-
selves. What they could not acquire from such sources,
their own intelligent observation furnished them; so that,
in reality, the first American Naturalists were our pioneer
bunters, who learned through starvation, and all the perils of
savage warfare, and the inconstant seasons, to know more
accurately the habits, passions, transitions and localities of

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER. 31

our animals, than whole fleets of navigators and scientifi¢
pedants in silk stockings, could attain to in half a century.
It is only those who have dared to live such lives as they
did, and through familiar associations with them, have been
enabled to unite scientific accuracy with the gleanings of their
rude lore, who are to be depended upon as true delineators.
Such men have our great naturalists been. Such men were
Wilson, Godman and Audubon. With the eye, step, and
frame of an Indian—the astuteness, nerve and intrepid skill
of the pioneer hunter, and the learning of the savan united
in himself, the Hunter Naturalist of America has pushed his
way, rifle in hand, into the secret places and confidences of
nature. He has carried her jealous defences by storm, and
may almost be said to have ‘“ wooed her as the lion wooes his
bride,” will ye, nill ye! There have been few such ardent
investigators among the Old World Naturalists until of late.
Though many of them have been great travellers, and have
professed to examine the subjects of their favorite science,
amidst native surroundings—yet in method and spirit they have
been entirely unlike the American. While the American, in
the confidence of practice and self-reliance, has been content
to trust in his own good right arm for provision and defence,
they have been sent out by Royal Institutes, with all the un-
wieldy appointments of a scicntific progress, to explore the
“sands and shores and desert wildernesses.” While he, with
habits as hardy and simple as those of the wild creatures
themselves, has moved among them without their being
aware—has plucked the same berries, drank from the same
spring, and rested beneath the same shades, with his calm,
bright eye, like that of an invisible presence, forever upon
their unconscious lives, has read them in their freedom
like an unsealed book—the Europeans, with their lumbering
trains, have brought dismay and terror into the startled soli-
tudes, and at best have obtained nothing but unsatisfactory
glimpses of retreating forms, or the clumsily slain “speci-

82 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

mens.” While he, with the experience of a boyhood and.
manhood spent in hunting and among hunters, can subject
the wild legends and the vague tales he may hear to a sure
test within himself, and skilfully sift them of whatever truth
they may contain, for his own use—the Europeans, whose
years have been spent amidst the musty folios of a library,
or the faded specimens of museums, must take whatever they
may hear for granted—since it would puzzle a quizzing
“native” to romance more sillily than the venerated dullards
of those folios, and it would equally puzzle their astuteness
to recognize the living animals when they had only seen the
dried, skins thereof! The consequence has been, that the
efforts of Europeans in Ornithology and Mammalogy have
been comparatively “lame and impotent conclusions,” espe-
cially when they have undertaken to delineate American birds
and animals. As laborious systematizers and technicalists,
they of course have preceded and far surpassed us. We will
not dispute the husks of honor with them—but must insist.
that as to all wherein consists the proper vitality and purpose
of such themes, our own—the American—treatment has been
the most original, vigorous and true.

To such causes as we have traced, the fact is owing that in
European treatment, the subject of Natural History has been
technicalised into what may be almost called a perfect whalebone
state of sapless system. The subject, of all others possessing
the greatest amount of inherent vitality, it has been so heavily
overlaid by the dry bones of the Linnzean nomenclature as to
have become a veritable Golgotha of Science. Among us the
people, with whom it is necessarily a favorite theme, are
repulsed, in dismay of its formidable hieroglyphics, from what
is to them as a sealed book. Thrown back upon individual
resources solely, they become as we have seen, of necessity,
close observers, and so far as opportunity goes, much better
naturalists than your pur-blind Professors of the Science, who
see only a learned name in its proper “class” and “ order,”

BIRD, BEAST AND HUNTER. 33

not a living creature on the green earth and under the sun,
and therefore it has been that only such heathful and hardy
treatment as our naturalists have given to Natural. History,
has frund favor among us. Our glorious Audubon, who is
just now dead, lived and wrote like one of the people, and
therefore we love and venerate him passed away: The people
everywhere will have the familiar objects and subjects of
their every-day life treated in a familiar way, and all the
stilted terminology of an over-done wisdom is, and must con-
tinue to be, gibberish to them. One such fanciful and eloquent
romancer as Buffon, will continue through all time more dear to
the popular heart in the Old World, than fifty rude stolid com-
pilers as Gesner or Pennant, or even than the venerated
Linnzus himself; and Goldsmith, too, has made “A Fairy
Tale” (as Sam Johnson called it,) of Natural History, that
must live as a substantial reality in the memories of mankind
more enduring than the heavy monuments of learning.

It is therefore entirely from the stand-point of the Hunter
Naturalist,—the indigenous growth of our New World,—that I
propose to regard the Romance of Sporting, and the relations
of Bird, Beast and Hunter.

~ CHAPTER II.

THE BOY-HUNTER.

I must surely have been intended for a hunter, as the first
thing I can remember was an animal.

I have often tried to trace as far back as possible into the
days of my childhood, the period when consciousness first
became linked with external things ;—or, in other words,—
my memory of life began. Curiously enough, I have never
been able to get farther back than to a time when I was kick-
ing and screaming in my nurse’s arms, in extacied and uncon-
trollable eagerness to get my hands upon a beautiful little
white rabbit which had been sent home by my father in a
bask 2t.

34

THE BOY-HUNTER. 85

The picture of that snowy creature, with its “ pink eyne,”
and long ears laid back, couched and trembling amidst the
tow on which it had been placed, in its rough wicker cage, is
to this hour as distinct as a scene of yesterday. It was the
sweet surprise of that soft vision that startled my new life
into full awakening. I have no memory of the dull dawn
before; it is here my actual being commenced.

They tell me I had already vegetated a few months, but it
must have been as a sprawling negation, dim-eyed and dream-
less, clutching feebly the untenanted air; for now was my
first amazed recognition of separate being; now was that
vague Infinite first made palpable to me through sense in
form.

Ah! the miracle of that mysterious outer world, where
such shapes of wondrous beauty grew! I now felt the sun-
shine, and saw all things glitter. How strange and vivid
familiar things around me seemed; the rough fence, the old
trees and house wore golden halos on them; the green earth
was glorified in splendors that entered to possess me in warm
thrills; and a creeping joy, mingled of I know not what
delicious pains, glowed through my life, until it swooned in
love! Ah, the ecstatic influx of that sensuous birth! would it
might hold my heart to nature in that sacred glow forever !

There is a philosophy which takes man for the highest and
purest exhibition of the divisible, for that type of being in
which all organism is perfected; it recognizes him also as
linking this being with the indivisible, as the penultimate of
forms—a part of heaven and a part of earth.

This being accepted, his relations towards inferior creatures
become beautifully dignified, and constitute a sort of arch-
archangelship under the sun, drawn by the common ties of
common sympathy towards all things that breathe and move,
yet holding an awful throne by right of its spiritual lineage.
Then doth he become, to their material nature, a “God made
visible,” —the palpable, immediate expression of that mystery

36 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

and power which are the elements of all supreme rule, whether
it be human or divine.

These earth-mated creatures are his subjects; and here, at
least, his lust of despotism can be gratified, for he is ruler
and lord above them all, for evil as well as for good. When
it is for evil, how terrible he must be to them with his dread
engines and his fierce subtlety! When for good, what moving
of strange thoughts, what yearnings for a better and gentler
being must visit them! Was it not so, even with ourselves,
when there were giants in those days, and angels sought the
daughters of Adam on our earth ?

If creation be an unresting tendency, eternally ascending
towards the perfect, then is our supposition less a fancy than
a truth, and our dominion over the beast of the earth and
the fowl of the air becomes a heritage of fearful responsi-
bilities, embracing wide extremes of pleasure and of pain.
Duties, then, of startling significancy, open to us, and we
feel the presence of self-derived majesty expand throughout
our principality, and in beneficence above immortal subjects.
We are no longer their tyrants, but right royal masters.
We know them not as the insensate objects of a rude caprice,
dumb foot-balls to our blind and heady passions, to be chased
and torn and worried in our savage glee,—but as the crea-
tures of our dedicated love, to be guarded gently, nurtured
well, and led by easy ways up, through serener airs, to happier '
fields.

This is the Apocalyptic Vision of an elder race—man, THE
AscenpeEr, beckoning the flocks and herds, the live ocean-
tide of his inheritance, up the steep; the calm radiance of his
merciful brow drawing its flood towards the stars! It isa
healthful philosophy, full of noble teachings, and we should
hold it to our hearts, though the reality of such a vision
may be so remote—though, alas! fallen ourselves, we have
cursed them.

It is sad enough that all these creatures have scented

THE BOY-HUNTER. 37

murder on our red right hands, and fly from our darkened
brows,—-that the archangel of our birth has been dethroned,
and that shining Presence, once upturned over them in
blessings, as a God, become terrible in wrath!. Yet are we
monarchs still, and yearn towards our ancient subjects, though
it be in empty mockery of state. In our domesticated crea-
tures we call them around us once again to feed from our
hands, though they be rather as the captives of our will, the
slaves of our necessities, than as loyal subjects in the bonds
of love.

What wonder that the man seeks savage compensation for
the loss of empire? What wonder if, in the shadow where
he walketh now, those mighty memories turn his heart to gall,
when he looketh out upon his subjects, shining sleek, in beauty
and in strength, amidst their sun-lit plains; and they regard
not his voice, lifted up as of old, to call them to his feet ?
Is it strange that, in the bitterness of quickened wrath,
his fierce pride turn upon them, glorying in the strife of
will with will, and strength with strength, to overtake them
in their vaulting freedom, and grimly laugh amidst their
slaughter ?

Yet are they co-mates and sharers of the sun with us, and
dark, unnatural passions cannot always shut them out from
the full circle of our sympathies. Childhood has yet a birth-

. « right of innocent illusion; and while its ethereal haze lingereth

over all things in enchantment, we may at least believe and
love!

We become curst and harsh with dwelling forever amidst
false hopes and care-weighed aspirations, and therefore is it
sad, indeed, when we outgrow that charming Faith of innocence,
since by it do we hold eternal youth. In its deathless happi-
ness it takes us forth into this marvellous outer world to grow
strong again in wondering, to freshen on the loveliness, and
grow mirthful with its gay and careless lives. Here are beings
infinitely numerous, who breathe and move by the same laws

38 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

with ourselves, and yet, who in their apparelling their modes
and humors, answer mere nature; and just as we love the
matron-smiling front of her eternal freshness, must we love
these, and continue to shed upon them out of our hearts, a
wide beneficence. :

How can we fail to love a keen-eyed wild-bird, coming
from the solitude, burnished and many-hued, as if the air,
where its surpassing beauty grew, held stores of gold, of
amethyst and glittering gems within its depths, and had
sifted them in gradual splendors down upon the plumy thing
that sat within its stillness! What a pleasant mystery its
gay, eccentric being is! How we delight to watch its tame-
less heart pulsing through every gesture, and to wonder what
it thinks and feels, and how its moods go!

Who has not noted the joyful amazement lighting up an
infant’s eye when you hold a bird before it, or a sleek-furred
squirrel just from its leaf-cradle. How it screams with the
novel joy as its shrinking fingers feel the strange, soft touch.
Its first impulse—the royal patron roused already !—is to
fondle and caress the little prisoner, and, though the chubby,
awkward fist of the young Hercules may strangle his deli-
cate vassal at the first grasp, yet is it not from cruelty, but
from the eagerness of the new delight.

All children are enthusiastic naturalists so long as the
happy time of innocent free impulse lasts, and well do I
remember all that mellow time with me! Then was my faith
in the beautiful most mighty; then gave it a charmed life to
me; then was it my dintless shield,—the Sigil of my necro-
mance ;—by it did I “strange deeds upon the clouds,” and
fairy fantasies of earth, and air, and sea, came in my dreams
obedient to its spell;—it made to me a world of God’s free
nature, wherein its creatures wore his glories for a garment, the
light of his own eternity in their clear eyes, and syllabled in
most sweet voices the language of his own harmonious tongue!

I knew these for my twin-born brothers, for, with the com-

THE BOY-HUNTER. 89

mon forms about me, I grew weary: they did not fill my
longings for—I knew not what !—but when the wild-bird,
gleaming past, told me of the beautiful, the vivid, and the
free, I no longer tarried with dull sense! I wore no wings,
but yet I followed it, beating the air with visionary plumes,
to fling the sunshine off; mine were no mellow pipes, but yet
I felt a carol in the blossoming tree, and sung by shady
streamlets a low, rippling trill—wild among flowers and vines,
darting through shadows in tameless shine, I went, with the
swift thing, in riot through our joy! Ah, it filled me with
the freshness of* untamable delight, and set my spirit free on
its gem-dusted wings ! ,

As for that young squirrel, out from deep woods where
some old oak had nursed it, rocking the soft sprite in his
rigid arms, it won my very soul, with its dark glistening eyes
and feathery brush! I felt the frosty patriarch of shades em-
brace it gently and warm within his knotted bosom, when the
battle-wind of winter had come forth; and saw its airy bound-
ings lend a frolic grace to his grey poll, when gay spring
breezes wooed him. Enchanted now, and eager of sweet
mysteries, I entered where its leafy bed was rolled, and where
the garnered stores lay fragrant in dim chambers of that
oaken heart.

And then I smiled in dreaming, for I saw it here with
strange surroundings! It had troops of little friends, the
leaf-winged elves, that came into its chambers when the moon
went down, and were all a-shiver with the cold, raw morning ;
and with puffy cheeks, straining at the load, they brought it
round, fat nuts, an armful each, and threw them on the little
heaps within its garner ;—some, rare acorns, too, and some,
triangled beech-nuts, or purple wild grape, or a bursting bud
—this was for love and—breakfast! Then they would creep
in bed with folded wings, and I could plainly see them pulling
its soft brush aside to get beneath the cover, and it would stir
a bit as if in vision it saw the dainties they had brought, and

40 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

snuff drowsily at the perfume. Now they all lay so warm
and cozey, rolled ‘delicately snug in that furry ball—and when
daylight came and it went forth to play, they would keep the
bed warm for it through theglaring time of sunshine!
There’s no use saying I could not, for I could see those
little fellows just as plain as the squirrel itself ;—and when
night came, I could see them, too, at their airy antics, plainly
against the moon as it rose up, and, at playing bo-peep, I
have caught them kissing the sleeping flowers, sure enough!
.They used to fight with the old owls, too, and thrust sharp
spear grass in their moony eyes, that would stare murder at
gay, heedless chip munck, or pretty little panting wood-mouse
pattering on the withered leaves below! Indeed, I saw them
often gathering from afar in arms—troop after troop, in snail-
shell helms, to drive such monsters bodily away when they
had ventured near that squirrel’s house; and then, the battle

THE BOY-HUNTER. 41

over, they would throw aside their arms, and take Molian
instruments they frame, and, with stealthy footing round the
oriole’s hanging nest, make creeping music, steal into her
happy dreams, until she twitters in her sleep, of the dim
sweetness, fitfully !

All this I saw with that young squirrel !—aye, and much
more, too! I have not told you yet about its friends that
live in the cold shade of little mossy grottos down the deep
glen, where it must go to drink! They are grotesque little
fellows, with fin-like wings, and you might any time see
squirrels play with them—whether you could see them or
not—jumping from rock to rock, darting under dark old
mossy roots, to hide in gurgling water underneath; diving in
still pools, where it will fear to follow, or shooting a swift
rapid to some island pebble in the midst, where master bushy-
tail, with all his long bounds, cannot reach !—if I should go
on to tell you of all these doings, and of ever so much more,
you would know him just as well as I did; but I don’t tell
every thing!—we had our secrets between us, and I am
bound over about some of the daintiest of them!

Whether you believe all this or not, its just the same to me,
for I did, and that even before I was big enough to go into the
woods alone to see for myself! When I did go, I found it
was all the same, except that I couldn’t see the little friends
very plain, though I could see squirrel plain enough !

Then, when I went out by myself into the deep wood, I sat
down on the moss at the root of an old tree, to watch for
him. When every thing was still again, I would see him
after awhile poking his nose slily out of the hole, snuff! snuff!
Then out his head would pop to rest his chin upon his fore-
paws, and he would look all around, above and below, very
cunning, to see if it was all right. Then out, like a thought,
he would glide, and I could see his lovely brush quickly
curled and spread all so grand above his head as he sat upon
a limb, still, for the moment. Lo! there is another snuffing

42 WILD SCENE3 AND WILD HUNTERS.

nose, and then great shining eyes filling the round black knot-
hole, and out another pops—and then another and another—
three of them—his brother and sisters !

Hark !—listen,—qua! qua! quagh! ‘That is another one
over on another tree! He answers it, and then such a time !
such whisking of tails, darting along limbs and bounding
from swinging twig to rustling tree-tops, until they all meet,
—two families of them!

Now the frolic begins in earnest,.and round and round the
rough trunks, rattling the bark down as they chase each
other! Their tails are spread now as wide as they can, as
if they were badly scared, and that young lady he makes
love to, you may be sure, for now he has chased her out
to the very end of a great high limb, and hard pushed, here
she comes right off into the air!—down almost into my face
—the white of her arms underneath, spread wide like her
stiffened tail!—into the leaves head foremost, and then up
and away, patter! patter! patter! Here he comes, too,
sailing down after her, plump! and rattles off along the old
logs and swinging vines in hot chase!

So they all would frolic, chasing one another, and one would
see me, and stop and stamp his tiny feet and bark hoarsely
at me, jerking his tail in comic wrath. Sometimes another
would dart away suddenly, as if possessed, scurrying round
and round the tree after nothing; and then I knew well
enough that it was not its tail that it was chasing, but one of
its little airy friends, only it was of too transpraent sub-
stance for me to see it by the day-light.

Nor were these all the sights I saw out there in those
quaintly peopled woods. There was saucy chip-munck, with
black and white stripes down his brown back; he was a spry
fellow, too, upon the ground, and lived in the prettiest house
under an old stump. He would show his striped nose push-
ing through the long moss hanging over his little hole under
the decaying root. How bright his soft, vivid eyes, and how

THE BOY-HUNTER. 43

nis long black whiskers tremble as he pricks his short ears to
listen! Then, quick as lightning, he mounts the stump,
frisking his pert tail at a great rate;-you can see his little
white bosom beating fast, like a toy watch in a flurry, as he
glances sharply round; then away he darts, pit-a-pat! leap-
ing on another stump to look again; now he is satisfied the
coast is clear, and with a soft chirping squeak dives down
into the leaves, scratching them aside and pushing under
them his inquisitive nose. Ha! another soft chirp, and he
darts back upon the stump again, and you can see his small
cheeks are all puffed out. Ina moment one of the acorns he
has fuund is in his paws, and sitting up straight as a little
goblin man, you can soon hear his sharp teeth creak! creak!
against the hull.

He, too, has friends that live with him; that are kin to

44 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the gnomes; they are a very funny sort of people. They
cannot see at all after day, and they are so fond of their
antics, that sometimes: light overtakes them, and then they
have to crawl under shelter of the first stone they can find,
until-night comes again. Whenever you happen to turn over
the stone and see a blind, sluggish creature under it, looking
like a brick-dusted lizard, don’t hurt the wee, helpless thing,
for when dark comes it will dart about and sparkle in the
most beautiful manner, like a living carbuncle, among the
strange night-flowering fungi that droop like it in the morn-
ing. You often see them at play, and if you do not notice,
will think they are nothing but fire-flies.

There were many more creatures that these gnome-people
loved very well, and which lived under the earth, too. They
lighted the long galleries of the tiny shrews, and when the

THE BOY-HUNTER. 45

star-nozed moles. held their root festivals in domed chambers,
they were there to blaze amidst the velvet-coated throng,
right merrily at midnight. And the soft mice! they had some
games with them, too, and loved mightily their warm round
nests beneath the stubble, or in leafy hollows of dead trees.
As for the gaunt and bloody weasels, they fright them with
a sudden glare in those dark passages where they dig, nosing
for murder; and blind, too, the sullen mink with splendor in
his earthy prowls!

So at first I went forth among the creatures of earth, in
peace, and saw them in my simple faith; and all my plea-
santest memories of calm, unmixed delight, are associated
with that time of innocent wonder and loving familiarity with
these fresh articulations of God’s thought in forms.

But as my passions grew, this harmless wonder changed
into curiosity, that became insatiable for a more intimate
knowledge. I yearned to know them better, to see them
more closely, to feel them, to possess! I became jealous of
that graceful freedom I had at first admired so much, because
it took them away from me just when my heart was overflow-
ing towards them; I reached forth my arms to clasp them to
my bosom, the empty air I folded chilled me at first, and then
anger rose. The pride of a despotic will, the rights of the
natural lord, were wounded from the tender side, and thus
became aroused to an embittered consciousness of strength,
and a willful purpose to use it against my gentle playfellows.

It was not that I grew cruel suddenly, and sought them
with the dark curse of Cain in my heart, at once; but that
I was impatient of this liberty that could take them from mo
when they willed, and desired to restrain them to come to me
when I willed.

I had no thought of murder at first, when I learned to en-
snare them. It would have broken my heart then to have
slain one; and so full was I of love for them, that I could not
fully realize how much they suffered in being deprived of

46 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

freedom. Though they did struggle desperately, and cry
aloud in fear and sorrow, I comforted myself in thinking that
it was because they did not understand what I desired; that,
when they came to know of the good I intended, what a nice
little house I should build for them, what delicate food I
would bring, and above all, how dearly I should love them,
that then they would learn to love me, and become reconciled
to everything, and happy as I was in having them.

So, in my simplicity, I tried to believe, until the whole
thing became as real as if it were true; and the sunny attic, I
proudly called my room, soon became a sort of caravansary,
filled with these captive travellers of air and earth. What a
happiness it was to me to familiarize each new prisoner with
my presence, and sit and watch in low-breathed quiet all their
ways, as I used to in the woods, and laugh out suddenly,
until the old house rang, at some odd whimsicality of passion-
ate gesture. HowI loved to have them on my person, to
caress me, to feed from my hands and mouth, to peck at me
in feigned wrath, or seize my hands with harmless teeth in
fierce dissembled savagery. Aye, I was lordly proud then,—
even happy as a king.

When the snow came, too, what a joyful time that was to
be,—for now I was to capture many more lovely friends.

When the grey heavy cloud gathered over night, and a
few broad flakes came scattering slowly down through the
twilight, then I knew there would be a heavy snow in the
morning. What a restless, fidgety fever I was in! I went
to bed early that night, that I might get up early, and mean-
while sleep away the suspense.

I forgot to say my prayers—for I did say them nightly in
those sinless times—and lay tossed in restless visions of traps,
and snares, and dead-falls; of monstrous hares, as big as my
dog Milo, swung up by the neck at the end of a pole; of
great flocks of quails, with strange beautiful birds among
them, fluttering and peering their heads through the sticks

THE BOY-HUNTER. 47

of my traps; of white foxes and black foxes, or of a great
opossum, lying with crushed heads beneath my dead-falls; or
of tracking some creature that left the foot-mark of an ele-
phant on the fresh snow for miles and miles through the bowed
and foreign-looking woods, until I had tree’d it at last; when,
after toiling and tugging, with sweaty brows, I had drawn it
forth from the hollow, and held it in my hand, I saw, without
the least surprise, that it was a soft little wood-mouse! Ah!
delicious fantasies were they !

When at cock-crow I bounded out of bed and ran to the
window, the first thing—how I clapped my hands and danced
for joy, and waked every body with my shoutings—“ The
snow! the snow! a deep snow!”

Then what a fussing time!—making new traps, stealing
clap-boards, and every other kind of boards that were avail-
able, to be split into trap pieces! What a teasing my father for
triggers, to make me triggers for spring-falls, nooses, par-
tridge traps, traps for little birds, and all! How I wondered
I could not get the old gentleman to understand that I should
be ruined! dead-ruined! if I did not get my traps ready to
be set early—even by breakfast-time—for the other boys
would be setting their’s, too, and take all the best places.

Little did I care for the hot coffee and cakes that morning,
but snatching a sup and a bite, was off, whistling for Milo,
and shouting for Pomp the negro boy, to accompany and help
me. LEagerly did we discuss, by the way, as we lugged our
heavy traps through the deep snow, whether the sink-hole in
the pasture, the thicket in the corn-field fence row, the black-
berry patch in the corner, or on the edge of the woods, were
the surest places for ‘Bob Whites,” (partridges), or “ Molly
Cotton-tails,” (hares). There was no deciding between them,
so, to settle the matter, a trap was set at each place, and one
in addition for larks, doves, red-birds, and sparrows, by the
old wheat-stack behind the barn.

Pompey, who carried the spade, dug away the snow from

48 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

each sagaciously chosen place, and exposed the black earth
beneath, so that our tempting bait might show from afar.
Then was the trap placed over it on the bare spot, and set
with such eareful nicety! Now with many a wistful look
behind to see if the birds were not at it already, we went on
to set the next.

When this first and most important business was got
through with, then eame hare hunting under the snow.

Ah, that was the sport! Molly Cotton would sit still
wherever the storm overtook her, and when the snow began
to cover her over, she would keep crowding, and pushing
gently back and forth, pressing it to one side until she had
formed a roomy little chamber all about her. The snow
would go on heaping and heaping until a domed arch grew
over all with just one little round hole, kept open through its
top by the warm air of her breathing—and there she would
sit, snug as a Russian Princess, in her palace of ice, and
dreaming of luscious cabbage leaves and tender apple-shoots
in the neighboring garden. But Molly’s golden visions were
as subject to be rudely dispelled as those of other people!

See! Milo’s keen nose has scented one of those very breath-
ing-holes on the smooth, glistening surface of the snow—he
has stopped suddenly on the plunge, with his foot raised!
“Steady! steady, boy!” We are up with him in long leaps!
Now for it! “Hie on, boy!’’ and helter, skelter, here we
come! I, Milo, Pompey, all together, tumbling heels over
head upon the snowy roof of Mistress Molly’s palace! There
she is—I feel the soft, warm fur! Squeak! quai! quai!
quai!—her plaintive cry sings out; we have her! “Hold
hard, Pompey; she kicks so with her strong hind-legs that
she will syrely get away !—Down, you Milo!—There now !—
we have her tied—she is secure !’”

Every hour or two the traps near at hand are visited, and
those at a distance twice a day. We start upon our round.
From afar we can see that one is down! My heart jumps !

THE BOY-HUNTER. 49

I long sorely to run!—Pompey starts off, I call him back!
It is necessary I should be dignified—should prove to him
and all the world, by my unhurried calmness,—

««_________. that, my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
As this that has befallen.”

I walk slow and stately, feeling exalted by my self-denial
—speculating after what manner the fates are about to reward
me—thinking of a whole dozen of partridges, a splendid
male red-bird—or, it may be, a large fat pheasant, or some
entirely new and wondrous creature, as best befitting my
just claims.

We are close at hand—we can sco the little tenement
shake—hear the heavy beat of struggling wings. Too much
for my stoicism is that sound! With fluttering pulse I spring
eagerly forward—bah !—it is nothing byt a common thieving
jay!

I almost stagger with the revulsion of my soaring aspira-
tions—while Pompey proceeds to get out the poor bird with
sundry abusive epithets and gabbled threats of neck-wringing.
“Yah! yah! ole feller!—cotch at last! Carry sticks to de
debbil, to make fire, burn dis child wid, will you! -Da! now
you carry sticks to debbil !” and away flutters the obnoxious
jay’s headless body over the bloodied snow.

I have said I was not cruel, and it was a perfect agony to
me to witness the death of any of my prisoners—but the
shock of the fall of my high-flown hopes was too much for
me, and in this case I did not recover in time to save the
unlucky victim of a superstition universal among our negroes,
and to which, if I were not ashamed of the confession, I
might admit having been more than half inclined myself !

But this was not all our sport on the snow, either! If it
grew damp towards evening, then the cold night-winds would

4

50 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

freeze its untrampled surface, and, by the time morning came
again, there would be a hard crust over all—hard enough to
bear Molly Cotton’s weight at any rate.

Now, such grand chases as we would have after her upon
the crust! Milo’s nose was to find her in the old stubble-field,
by the little breathing-holes through the top of her palace
under the snow; then we had all the little dogs from the
Quarter, who were not much heavier than she, to chase her
on the crust. ;

Ah! this was the greatest affair of all!—greater than
catching her at once in her house, for here we gave Molly a
fair start, and could see the whole chase to the end.

Before sunrise, Pomp had assembled from the quarter the
other young darkies, Dick, Sambo, and the rest, with their
cur-dogs, fices, terriers, and all other kinds of light dogs,
each one lead by a tow-string around its neck—for it would
spoil the fun and interfere with Milo, to have them loose until
the time came. Such a gabbling and a yelping as they made,
the darkies and their dogs between them, when Milo and I
came running out, and took the lead through the deep crack-
ling snow towards the great field.

Sometimes the snow would bear us for a moment, and then
up somebody’s heels would fly, and such a shrieking and
tumbling about with the laughter as there would be; then the
eager mongrels, when they saw Milo run ahead with long high
plunges through the snow, would yell with anger at being
tied, and leap against their tow-leashes, or darting between
the holder’s legs, would trip him up, and break away. Then
there was no catching the little wretch, for he would be cun-
ning enough not to come when his master called, just to be
caught again, so I would have to order a halt, and call in my
dbedient Milo, and then the runaway would be decoyed in
reach of some one who would snatch the trailing tow-string,
and make him prisoner once more.

THE BOY-HUNTER. 51

So, at last, with all our stoppages in this way, and in
climbing the half-buried fences, where the negroes’ dogs would
be sure to get nearly hung to death in jumping through the
wrong plages, we would come to the old stubble just about
when the sunrise scattered the purple dawning, and every-
thing was a-glitter with the yellow blaze. We veiled our
eyes from the dazzle with our coat-sleeves and caps when the
white glare of the wide, unbroken surface was thrown into
our faces. , :

But my eyes would soon bear it when I caught a glimpse
of Milo’s flying ears almost disappearing in his deep plunges
through the snow, then rising again with his high leaps.
He knew the time for action had come in earnest, and the
little dogs, straining on their leashes, would whine and shift
their feet, and yelp to get away, while they watched him,
with great white eyes, almost popping out of their heads with
their choked eagerness. ‘

We all stand still, in breathless watching, as he covers his
ground right and left, scientifically, as if there were no snow
to hinder. But standing still, over the knees in the snow, is
very hard for boys, and I begin to stamp with the cold and
impatience, and rub my hands, while Pomp and his darkies
gradually draw their breaths and commence gabbling away
as NOISy as ever.

“Yah! yah! Massa Charles,—see dat Milo jump! He
long ear down dat sink-hole dar look jes like de bigepheasant
fly ‘long de snow! He hab dat molly-cotton soon, now!”

“Keigh! hush you nigger, dar! d’ ‘aint no cotton tail
down dat briar-patch, ’t all!”

“Sambo, what you know? Milo knows more ’n ten sich
nigger! He find him!”

“There! he stops! that’s a point!”

“Whoop! yah! yah! told you nigger! dar dat cotton—!”

“Hush your noise! Steady boy! steady! Silence! Hold

52 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

on to your dogs. come on quietly! Steady, boy! steady.
steady !”

Bursting almost with impatience, I have great trouble to
hold back my rabble, for we must get close before Milo is
hied on, so as to have a fair run of it.

“Steady, boy! steady! Hold back there Dick, you ras-
cal! hold the dogs! Steady, old boy!”

I can see the point of his tail shaking, and his ears quiver
with restrained excitement. We are in ten steps, now
for it!

“Hie on, boy!” One long bound—he plunges beneath
the snow amidst the briars!—one breathless moment! there
she is!

From beneath his very feet she bursts through the pow-
dered snow, and shaking it from her fur, at one leap she is clear
upon the firm crust, and after slipping up once or twice, makes
steadily off.

Such a burst of yells, yelps and screeches! Such a jumble-
together, helter, skelter, heels-in-the-air start as we make of
it. I, little dogs, negroes and all! such falls, and such trip-
ping up! such crackling and crashing! Now the little dogs,
that have at first slipped up and rolled over each other, all
in a yelling heap, gather their legs together and stretch away
with fierce cries after poor molly-cotton, who is going off like
a bird, with her black shadow on the snow.

We are wild, frantic with the excitement, and whoop and
screech as if tearing out our very lungs, as we follow, throwing
each other down in the jostle, and leaving soon the smallest
ones far behind. :

“They are closing on her! she slips up! Whoop!
hurrah !”

“Golly! dat’s Snap! yah! yah! he de dog!”

“You Pomp, dat’s my Sanch! O you nigger, dat’s no

Snap! Da, now! he got her!”

THE BOY-HUNTER. 53

“You Sanch! you Snap! get out, you dogs! get out!
begone!” Ishriek, but it is too late now to sve poor molly-
cotton from being torn.

“Hoo-ey! dat my Snap! yah! yah!”

“You nigger, dat Sanch, fust! Mass Charles dat Sanch?
yah! yah! dis nigger’s dog! Hoo-ray! hoo-ray !”

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING.

WHEN the crust had melted, then came tracking hares on
the snow, and here Pompey and I were better than Milo’s
nose—for we could see the beautiful little triangles Molly left
behind with her feet at each bound, laid as plain along the
snow as three ink-marks on white paper.

Out from the cabbage-patch or the nursery we would follow
it, winding round and round, through the fences and by the
briar-patch—across the fields and away towards the wood we
would trail, bending down to look as we went, and keeping
Milo back behind us. Now the edge of the wood is reached,

and here the track gets all mixed up with others, and twisted
54

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 55

back upon itself, so that for a long time we cannot make it
out—but Pompey strikes a circuit round in the wood, and
after awhile he shouts—

“Here he am, Massa Chas.! Got her agin !—soon find dat
hollow, now !”

Away we tramp again—Pompey as eager on the new trail
as any hound—crashing through hazel thickets—falling over
buried logs and grape vines—to be up and scramble on again
until—“Ha!—that great old oak tree! That’s the place—
see, the tracks go right into the hollow at its root.”

“We've got her! we've got her !”

Matches were not known in those days, but we had a little
steel and flint, with some “punk” between us, and now soon
we had scraped away the snow to get at the dry leaves, and
broken off all the dead boughs and twigs we could find around
for a heap—a great heap at the mouth of the hole.

It was very hard to keep Milo’s nose out, for snuff and
snuff he would in spite of us, when we turned our backs.
Now the punk burns—the pile is fired, and then we throw on
damp leaves to make a great smoke to rise up the hollow.
Milo stands by, looking on now with a very wise expectation
—but Pompey kneels by his side, and holds him round the
neck tight. A little while! we hear snuff! snuff! and scram-
bling inside the hollow! Now she comes! thump! sneeze!
There she bursts through the smoking pile stifling and help-
less. I seize her quickly.

“ Down, Milo! down! Hold him, Pomp!” as I wheel round
and round to escape him, swinging poor Molly above my head.
Now she has got her breath again. Quai! quai! quai! How
gad her wail is! But, after a desperate struggle, Milo is beat
off, and she is saved !

By the time the snow was gone, my attic had become popu-
lous enough; but when the busy, gay and glowing spring had
come, and the carolling out of doors, and the warm, deepen-
ing green, and the faint odors of the youngest flowers came

56 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

stealing on the air, the prisoners there grew so restless and
looked so out of place in their bare wooden cages, that day
by day compunctious visitings grew upon me, until one after
one, with many a yearning sigh as I looked after them, all
were turned loose upon the sunny earth again. I would be
saddened for days to think of their ingratitude, for no one
of them would ever come back to me again.

Sorrows could not last long in those days. The sap run
vigorously, and new pleasures soon grew over the old scars.
My pets were all gone, but with the same spring that wooed
their freedom came nesting time.

Ah, what an eye I had for localities most apt to be selected
by my wild favorites to build their homes in then! I was
seldom taken by surprise in finding any nest. I could almost
tell beforehand the very fork, thick clustered round with veil-
ing leaves, in which Master Dandy Jay would wisely hide his
clumsy house.

I knew the very limb out near the end of which the Robin
meant to build. I could tell the very stump or hollow which
yonder twittering pair of Blue Birds would select—that is,
if they didn’t choose a hole in the great gate-posts of the
meadow.

The blackberry thicket in the corner of the “worm fence”
where the Brown Thrasher would build amidst sharp briars,
I knew well of old; and the very pear tree top, or swinging
locust in the yard, from which the Oriole, with black and
golden coat, would hang its woven cradle, was prophetically
foreshadowed.

I knew the apple-tree in the orchard, too, that sober-coated
reverend of jollity, the Parson Oriole, would be sure to select
to preach his garrulous sermons of glee on, while his tender
mate rocked pendent, listening from the same breezy bough.

I could tell before I reached yonder dead young mulberry,
whether \it was a Tom-Tit’s populous nursery that had filled
that sap-sucker’s deserted chamber, or whether I might expect,

THE-NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 54-

when I tapped its sounding sides, to see the great soft black
eyes and trembling whiskers of the velvety Flying Squirrel
fill the round little hole before she darted out to sail down or.
the creamy srread of her furred drapery ;—as for the red-
crested Flicker with his spotted breast, who loved this kind
of house, too, I knew his droll ways better than his better-
half herself, and many a sunshiny morning have I sat beneath
and mocked his noisy laugh and hammering rattle.

I knew the Screech Owl stood to blink and stare on sleepy
watch the livelong day, out from his door in that old hollow
beech that held his little family of horned goblins warm within;
and where the robber Hawk circled on moveless wing with
plaintive cries at noonday, I knew his savage heart was
yearning towards that huge oak’s clustering top below—and

58 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

if eagle’s eyried on the cliff, I told it when I saw them stealing
quickly in.

It was no mystery to me where the shy Flame Bird hid its
eggs—nor could the artist Hummer, with all its matchless
skill, deceive me—for the moss-cloaked bulb that seemed so
like the gradual swelling of a natural knot upon the twig,
revealed its delicate secret to my sharpened eye.

The cunning, noisy crow, with all its loud-mouthed gam-
mon, never could mislead me, and even the subtle mocking-
bird had to give in to my untiring watchfulness. As for Bob
White, I heard him daily call “wife-e! wife-e!” to nest in
the deep clover; and the meek, simple dove, I patronized,
especially, and visited her each day, to watch, lest some rude
boy or prowling cat had marked the low and exposed nest
wher@ the silly thing had placed it on an apple-tree limb,
right across the orchard path; and respecting the wren,—
Miss Kitty, the jade! I believe she would have built in my
coat sleeve, had I given her half'a chance!

The blue martin and I knew each other’s faces, Spring in,
and Autumn out; for many a friendly and familiar gossip did
we hold together from my attic window, that overlooked the
little painted palace on a pole I had set up for it outside.

Ah, that fatal structure, with its red walls of paiuted brick !
its mimic turrets, saw my first foul deed of wanton murder !

These purple martins I most dearly loved, vecause they
brought me from the farthest south the first news of Spring
in their glad, low twitterings, and I placed this gorgeous house
there in lofty state for them to occupy in welcome to their
weary wings; but then, the little warlike blue bird would
take possession first, and cruelly buffet the tired wanderer
when it came to claim its own; then my blood boiled to wit-
ness the inhospitable deed, for the blue bird was no stranger,
and lived here through the winter.

I plead now with my father for a gun, and by one tremen-
dous effort, learned to say my multiplication table backwards,

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 59

to win it as a reward, and then grasping the bright new
weapon, in truculent rage, slew, with my first shot, the
audacious intruder, as it fluttered in triumph above the house
it had usurped.

What a strange sensation it was as I lifted that first
gasping victim of my prowess, and saw the blood upon my
hands.

I believe that blood, warm, dropping blood, maddens our
race, and makes fiends of us,—for any devil of them all might
have envied my ferocious exultation! It was my first taste
of blood, shed by my own act, and the red, infernal nectar
fired through my veins the raging ecstacies of a new lust that
all incarnadined the blue, holy sky, and dimmed, angrily, the
green, cheerful earth! From that moment the fiercer impulse
of the hunter was aroused, to grow apace towards its stern
joys!

The tyrant king bird knew me for a foe, and would ruffle
his vermilion crest at the very sight of me, and dip at my
head with waspish, querulous twitterings, for now there was
mortal feud between us; and when I saw the quarrelsome
braggart persecute, with cruel buffetings, such blithe embody-
ments of musical mirth as the little Parson Oriole, and wag-
ging Wren, my heart would be moved to deadly indignation on
behalf of my gentle playmates; but when the warrior-bird
‘screamed its game defiance as it fell before my aim, and
pecked and clawed at me to the last gasp, then my respect
was aroused, and I stood over it, sorrowing for my hasty
wrath.

-But such compunctious visitings would become less and
less frequent with each new deed of bloody retribution !—as
I fain would call it now. In my puisance I assumed to be
the champion of weakness and the oppressed, out in this free
world of nature; and going forth slaying, and to slay, its
tyrants, I loved to call by self-approving names this lust fer
slaughter that grew upon me.

60 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

How my cheek paled when a warning cry from some watch.
ful singer would hush all the timid choir around, and with a
sudden swoop of overcoming wings, the dark hawk hurled its
fearful form down amidst the scattering throng; and then,
the flushing hot blood, how it tingled through me, as I grasped
my gun!

My very soul on fire, I shivered with the eagerness of
vengeful wrath, when that sharp wail broke upon the breathless
silence, and upward, with shrill, triumphing screams, the
robber mounted, in heavy flappings, with the stricken victim
struggling in his claws.

One concentrated instant, with my nerves all steel, and
his strong flight swerves to the report!—a shriek of bafiled
fierceness, and he is whirling prone to earth!

No errant knight, careering earth intent on deeds of “high
emprise,” did ever press his mailed foot, at last, on slain
dragon’s scaly neck, with more exulting consciousness of lof-
tiest mede, than I in that proud moment of stern victory.

It was the madness of a glorious exultation when I thus
slew the prowlers of earth, or air, or water! I was exalted
by the act, and felt happy in their pangs, as it seemed Yo me,
because they chased and tore the gentle creatures that I loved !
I could not realize in this foolish illusion, the mere “savagery
of unreclaimed blood,” therefore did I rejoice in it with un-
utterable delight! It was not that I was cruel, either,—
I was drunk !—drunk with blood in the bewildering riot of
youthful energies and unaccustomed power !

Ah, and I was a daring climber, too, in those days! a
clean shaft, thirty feet to the limbs, was a mere irritation to
me, especially if I had espied a grey squirrel’s summer
pavilion swinging to the breeze upon its lofty top.

When I had mounted, what a joy it was, rocking with un-
dizzied brain from topmost fork, to look out over the upheay-
ing, restless ocean of green leaves, and hear their low, solemn
murmurings go by! They filled me with a strange exulting,

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING.

cid

sh

those wild symphonies, with their deep, mellow, muffled roar,
and I would rock my perilous perch in reckless sweepings,
to and fro, until it swung me in delicious vaultings through
the resonant tumult, like a sea-bird lifted on the storm-tossed
waves. ;

Many a ferruling has climbing for such a swing, or for a
bird’s nest, cost me, savagely laid on by a brutal and captious
pedagogue; and I hate the mean oppressor to this day! I
was a scape-grace truant, to be sure; but God had made the
glad sun and beautiful earth that wooed my lagging steps, and
I should not have been bruised and scarred by a base, thick-
blooded wretch, because I yielded an hour to their holy spell,
and could forget, amid scenes of such enchantment, even the
terrors of his gloomy reign.

Verily, that “Old Field Schoolmaster” will have many
grievous sins to answer for in his day of account. May the
justice that shall be measured unto him be more lenient than
any he meted out to me!

I fought him at last, tooth and finger nails, with the scorn-
ful but futile spite of the little warrior King Bird, caught
napping by the claws of a carrion crow.

I ran away to my friends, and was protected from his ven-
geance. Dread was the ire that shook his mighty soul when
he saw that the victim was beyond the reach of his tyranny !
It rose and expanded into prophecy, and he registered the
vow before the Fates, that he would live to see me—the worst
boy in the county—“ hanged !”

Ha! ha! It might certainly have befallen.me, as with
Absalom, to have been hung by the hair in a vine or tree-top,
for daily I ran the risk in my predacious climbing, but, as
yet, the neck of “the worst boy in the county” claims to be
innocent of any unpleasant familiarity with hemp! May the
shadow of that prophecy never be less! Ah, boys who loved
the green-wood better than the horn-book, saw hard times in
my young days.

62 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

But now came the first great revolution to my young life.
I must be sent from home to school! The rebel-boy is to be
tamed by stern and wholesome lessons—by the necessity of
self-sustained struggle with the rough actualities of being.

The soft delicious haze of home—the warm thrill of nest
ling love beneath a gentle mother’s wing, must even be chilled
away in the bare, unaided conflict, for place and recognition
among my fellows in the strange dreary world outside. The
tender soothings of that sweet seclusion, where my heart had
grown all fenced about by charms, must now give place to
wanton gibes; and ruffian buffettings dispel my dream-born
delicate visions, in the bare melee of vulgar license !

It was a fearful trial, but I endured it; for it was a wild
country house they sent me to, and I sought for compensation
amidst my old surroundings of the natural world. Those
loved associations of the shady wood gave me new calm with
the mild presence of their familiar graces, and strengthened,
with music of the songs they sung at home, my sinking heart
to bear the sharp bereavement. Here, from my first cheering
refuge, they became my almost sole companions in rough soli-
tary sports, until every secret place they made their haunts,
for miles and miles around, was known to me in loving visi
tation, wild foray, or vengeful raid.

For a long time I shrank from the coarse companionship
of the rude boys of my own age, who were my school-fellows
—for, fresh from my sacred home, where bird voices had
mingled most with the gentle tones of playmate sisters, their
brutal recklessness of speech could but sound repulsive and
disgusting to my dainty sense. I scorned them with fastidious
haughtiness; and they of course taunted me until, my pride
aroused, I stood at bay with sullen desperation, and in many
a fierce battle pounded a full respect into their thick skulls
for these same “‘womanish ways” of mine, as they had dared
to name them!

Now the ice was fairly broken—shocked by these rude col-

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 63

lisions, out of Dream-land into the Real, I waked into a lusty
sympathy with its stern and boisterous elements. The hardy
spirit that had joyed before to wrestle in isolation with the
unhoused wild conditions of mere nature, learned now to cope
with turbulent passions amidst lawless peers—to feel new
exultings in an emulous strife with my own race!

Ah, then came the glorious time of most ambitious feats !
The spirit of rivalry once aroused, to what superb extreme
would not the extravagant energies be hurled in their fierce
lust of eminence! What feats of meredible audacity and
hysterical endurance !

The pale and rigid wrestler, writhing with a stouter foe—
the desperate runner straining at a distant goal, with teeth
clenched, lest he should pant and fall—the climber, taunted
to a perilous feat, swinging some fearful gap, with flying
bound, from limb to limb at dizziest height—the swimmer,
breasting swollen torrents with blue limbs, beating vainly to
advance—these were my playmates now in reckless emula-
tion! When Saturday came, and in trembling eagerness we
girded up our loins to meet our freedom, and scattered in
hurrying troops over the rough hills and away to seek adven-
ture for this happy time, how dauntless and how strong were
we! Dangers we loved for danger’s sake, and shouted for
the joy to meet them.

Those holiday hours were indeed precious fragments from
the Nomad’s Dream of Paradise, we had time to snatch, fresh
with the sparkle of dew and sunshine on them, during those
cloudy times of irksome servitude—and how we reveled in
them when they came! A year of enjoyment was crowded
through those fast minutes into the day.

Away with the rising sun to the “ Bottomless Spring” Mill
Pond, six miles off!—in bare feet—with jackets slung over
arms, and fishing lines in pockets, we pattered along the
pbridle-path at the long swinging gait of an Indian runner—
never pausing, in our merry chattering, for breath, since such

a4 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

time was too precious! We must be there in an hour, for che
greatest fish bite early !

The dark hills are past, and we have reached the level
on the other side, and through the great trees can see the
sobered glisten of the vexed tumbling stream we have leaped
across so often in the highlands, now creeping in slow crystal
spread beneath the overhanging shadows toward its neared
bourne. There they go in splendid shoals, the great white
trout, darting like wild pigeons through a fluid air, as we are
seen; and now, too, we can slacken our swift pace to gaze in
panting ecstacy for awhile. The green pike, lithe and swift,
glances its white belly, like a sword flash, up at us as he darts
past—the active succors scattering from its dreaded path!
We cannot take them here—they hold their way towards the
deep water that now shows like a great fog-bank through the
thick towering forest stems ahead.

Here we are at last! as the wide burst of water, blazing in
the morning sun, dazzles our eyes accustomed to the shades!
One shout of joyous greeting and then to work! Quickly
the long tapering poles are cut from the bordering thickets—
bait for our small hooks produced, and in hurried eagerness
the favored spot secured. They are thrownin. Hey! hey!
Hurrah !—a, fluttering splash !—and the first fish is landed
amidst laughing congratulations, altogether at war with the
favorite precepts of legitimate angling! But what care we
for the shades of Cotton and Walton?—the fish are too
abounding and too eager to be frightened easily, and the
noisy sport goes on.

Yonder, away across the lake-like Pond, is the Bottomless
Spring. There the greatest fish are taken, and very soon,
with a sufficiency of minnows secured, we hire the boat from
the mill below to cross. At last comes the real time for
sport. The excitement is too great now, and the stakes too
important, for unseemly mirth or noise. With rapid ailent
vars we urge across the broad sheet, avoiding here and there

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 65

the formidable snags that protrude their dry rugged arms
from some buried trunk imploringly towards the sunshine.
Now we stem with laboring oars the polished glide with which
the dark pool throws up its green waters from unsounded
depths.

We strain our eyes downwards through that dim yawning
gulf in wondering awe, for here the legends say the earth-
crust has been rent by the Evil One, who came one dark night
of storm and horror to carry off a noted Infidel, who lived not
far from hence, on a great plantation, years ago! Just be-
yond a great cave yawns, too, and we can push the boat upon
the lapsing transparency up beneath the dripping roof, until
we shudder, of the rayless gloom, and dare not venture to go
farther ; though it is said to bring us at last beneath a vast
and vaulted roof, far under the hills. Here we let go our
long lines over the side of the boat, in the Bottomless Spring,
a hundred feet or so, and now for the trout or greedy pike.
Ah, what a strange thrill it is, when we drag up with many
a wary strain of hissing lines, the sparkling prey from that
mysterious abyss.

When the noon comes with its sultry heats, we leave our
finny sport for new refreshing in those cool depths. Delicious
plunges! down! deep down, with eager eyes opened on the
wave, we strive to pierce its secrets—but in vain. Many an
hour we struggled and plashed through the freshening waters,
until the hot sun would scorch our exposed backs, and the
blistered skin peel from the writhing flesh. Evening, and the
return through lengthening shadows with our burdens of fish
carried between us, found our flagging steps drag heavily on
the hilly way, and the late moon rose behind the tall chim-
neys as the “ Big House” came in welcome view !

Then there came, too, the long excursions in search for
young squirrels through the deep trackless heart of the wild
forest—or in the autumn to gather nuts; when, for either, we

5

66 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

must climb the loftiest of the hoary trees, and that with a
lithe daring that would have curdled soberer blood.

With the winter came new sports, more hardy still—the
long night hunts by stealth with the younger darkies and
their little cur dogs, for the sulky “’Possum.” That was
great sport to begin with—for we seldom ventured far from
the skirts of the plantation for fear of getting lost, and we
were not yet old enough to be promoted to sharing the dan-
gerous honors of the Coon hunt with the grown negroes,
because we could not keep,up with their weary tramps.

But the "Possum hunt was our own affair, and well we
knew to manage it among ourselves. It all had to be done
very quietly; and if a dog barked before we got clear out of
ear-shot of the “Big House,” he got well kicked for it by all
in reach—black or white. We dreaded betrayal in the least
sound; and even the chunk of fire carried by the biggest
darkie, was carefully sheltered by our hats and bodies, lest
its tell-tale gleam might be seen. Once round the turn and
fairly in the woods, we breathed freely, and might venture to
raise our voices from the eager whispers of consultation to
the more decided tones of decision and command—encouraging
each other and the dogs: for “outer-darkness” is a great
damper upon both boys and dogs!

Now we may cheer, and even whoop, as we are beginning
to enter the old field, where the persimmons grow, and wild
grapes mat, with their strong tendrils, the scrubby thickets.
Here the “possums” resort to feast upon the fruits, and the
“old har” keeps his form, too, in the long grass and briar
patches; and every now and then, with a sudden burst of
screeching yelps, the little curs break away after a bounding
fellow, which they soon lose in the thickets. We do not care
for these interruptions, for the little dogs cannot trail them
far, and soon lose them in doubling through the briars. We
have no fear that the noise they make will spoil our sport a

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 67

great deal, for the sluggish ’possum does not care to trust its
heels much on the ground to run away, and we shall be apt
to find it where it has come to feed on the persimmons, or
overtake it on the way. With many a shrill whoop and yell
we cheer the dogs on to greater : ctivity, now that the forage-
grounds are gained, and the game must be at hand.

Hark, a low, wary yelp, quick, short, half-smothered with
hesitation and eagerness! There it goes, the gathering cry!
yelp, screech, quaver, whine! They are bursting to let go
their voices. Hurrah! the shrill yell rises from every throat
at once, curs, boys, darkies screeching all together in one
sharp, sudden cry of savage exultation; then all is silent.

“Tree’d!”” “tree’d!’’ Yes, a short, sullen bark is followed
by another and another, as each dog comes up, and smelling
at the tree, satisfies himself that all is right; now we plunge,
tearing through the brush, regardless of briars and thorns, in
the direction of these sounds, and soon we hear the eager
whining of the dogs, through all the noise of their barking.
We are very close now; and bursting through the thicket,
come upon them, all leaping up against a fence-corner of the
plantation; there, showing plain against the moon, and hang-
ing by the tail from a.limb of that bare persimmon over the
fence, we see the great grey ‘possum savagely grinning at the
acene below, with his long, white teeth full bared!

Hah! hah! hah! what yells of merry laughter greet the
grotesque sight! Some point their fingers at his shame-faced
grins, some pelt him with rotten boughs caught up from the
dry leaves at our feet; while the dogs yell louder still, and
leaping against the tree and fence fall back in scrambles
between our legs.

“Ha, yah! ole boy! what do dar, grinnin’ at dat moon?
steal more ole hen, suck more eggs, ’nudder night, will
yer?”

“ Come out dat! dat curl-tail no hold whar dis child climb!”
and up starts a young darkie to shake him out.

68 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

“Yah! yah! see dat "possum laugh! grin nudder side
you’s mout ’fore long, ole chicken thief!”

“Shake he, Josh! shake hard, nigger! he hold on good
wid he curl-tail !”’

“Ha! yah! whoop! hear he growl! now dat ’possum laugh !
dar he come!”

A simultaneous rush,—screams, shrieks, growls, all min-
gled for an instant, while we beat off the dogs, and then he is
swung in triumph above their heads by the tallest of the party.
Now the well known trick of the opossum, in feigning to be
dead. affords new amusement; and he is surrounded by his
merry torturers, who, amidst noisy clamors, tease him in a
thousand ingenious ways to make him show signs of life,

ry

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 69

thuugh all but the greener ones take good care not to give
him too good a chance to bite, which he sometimes does with
severity while thus “playing ’possum.”

Sometimes he is tree’d in @ large tree, and then the fire

‘ must be built, and a serious job we have of it to get at him ;
but the attempt is seldom relinquished until success has at-
tended it. The negroes take charge of the game on our
return, and the next night there is a grand possum roast at
the Quarter, in which we participate only on the sly as have
been with the hunt.

But to digress about our teacher. He was an eccentric person,
who having been poor in his young days, had acquired a fond-
ness for teaching, which he had adopted then from a necessity,
but which continued to cling to him through his life, although
his marriage had brought him a handsome fortune. He there-
fore kept up his school as an amateur, rather than from the ne-
cessities of the case. His plantation was a very extensive one,
situated on the edge of a wild country, and his admirable
school the favored and noted resort of the sons of the southern
gentry, from far and wide.

He was a good old man, that father Hinton, and loved us
all as his own children. We were allowed much more license,
on parole of honor, than was usual at such places; the old
gentleman even took a grotesque sort of pleasure, which he
awkwardly attempted to conceal, in examining and comment-
ing upon, and particularly in weighing and noting down the
weight of our game, the legitimate produce of any and all
sur wild sports, except the night-hunts, which were strictly
interdicted.

I shall remember his appearance to my dying day, on one
occasion of this sort.

We had made an unusually successful excursion to the

” distant Bottomless Spring Mill Pond on one Saturday, and
the next morning, which was Sunday, we were very eager to
exhibit to him our trophies, of which we were very proud.

70 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

He was a very zealous Presbyterian, of the Old School doc-
trine, and of course very strict in regard to his and our de-
meanor on the Sabbath. We were therefore a little afraid to
parade our fish before him this morning; but there was one
among the rest, a great white perch, or trout, as it was in-
correctly called in that locality, of such extraordinary size,
and with the capture of which, too, there was such a ridiculous
story of mishaps, to me connected, that all my comrades were
bursting with eagerness to tell it before Mr. Hinton.

They would not venture, however, to take the fish to him
before breakfast, because there was no opportunity, as we
were always marched out in solemn procession from morning
prayers to the breakfast table, which was placed in a long
and wide passage of the large house. The fish, however,
were hung in a grand cluster against a pillar which stood near
the head of the table, in such a position that his eye must
necessarily fall upon them as he took his accustomed posi-
tion to pronounce the grace standing.

Now Mr. Hinton was a person of genuine dignity of
character, and we stood in great awe of the earnest solemnity
of manner with which he always addressed himself to the
observances of his religion; but the story with regard to the
capture of the great trout had got all among the boys, and
the sight -of it, paraded so ostentatiously, now caused a
general disposition to titter, which was even ill suppressed,
as our teacher assumed his place. He had not chanced to
notice it, and raised his hands reverently, and the habit of
respect for his tall and thin, but commanding presence in
these solemn functions, for the instant hushed every one
breathlessly. It was his well known habit to hold his eyes
reverently closed during the pronunciation of the somewhat
lengthy benediction; and I am sorry to say that it had been
a general habit, too, among the worst of us, to seize irreve-
rently this occasion to snatch in wanton mischief, sundry
articles of food from the dishes before us, which could be

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. V1

transferred to our pockets; or else to throw a crust of bread
across the table and hit a neighbor on the nose, or pull the
ears of the servant giris m waiting, or indeed perform any
other ingenious antics which did not require too much time,
or cause too great a noise !

No sooner did the good man close his eyes than there
was so general a movement of heads and hands, such loud
whispering and noisy attempts to choke down laughter. that
with all his Sunday morning solemnity he could not help
hearing, and accordingly cut short the grace in time to open
his eyes upon the most vivid, interesting tableaux conceivable
of grins, grimaces, hob-nobbing heads and pointing fingers ;
following the direction of which, involuntarily his eye rested
first upon my unlucky self, and then upon the monster trout
against the pillar, as the cause of this ill-timed hubbub. He
started somewhat as his eye took in its size, and the severe
frown gathering upon his brow was contradicted by a slight
nervous twitch of relaxation at the corner of his mouth; our
watchful eyes detected instantly this favorable sign, and there
was one general burst of the smothered laughter from all sides,
above which rose the stern command,—

“Silence! what does this mean, young gentlemen ?”

But it was too late now for authority to be regained at once,
and peal after peal of unrestrainable laughter set order at de-
fiance. But, fortunately for the delinquents, the good man’s
eyes seemed to wander abstractedly, drawn by some irre-
sistible attraction towards the trout. Suddenly he muttered,
as if to himself,—

“Why, as I live, that fish must weigh more than ten
pounds!” and forgetting all our outrageous conduct for the
moment, he strode across the passage, took down his kittle
spring balance, which he always used for such purposes, and,
to our increased amusement and delight, proceeded immedi
ately to satisfy himself as to the weight.

“Twelve pounds!” he exclaimed, drawing a long breath

72 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

“Whew, pro-di-gious! Greatest trout ever taken at tne
Spring Pond since my memory!” Then replacing fish and
scales, he turned and looked sharply along the table, while
the hubbub was silenced in an instant. ‘ You Charles,
Henry; Tom, you will all three remain after school, to-morrow
morning !”’

This was said with a severity that chilled the hearts of
those of us named, for remaining “after school” was well
known to portend punishment of some sort.

However, by the time the terrible hour of judgment came,
the whole story of the capture having reached his ears, he
was evidently more disposed, at that awful moment, when all
the other boys had vanished, and we left alone with him to
receive sentence, to laugh at the affair himself, than to be
severe with us, so we got off with a slight repruof.

The incident which had caused so much fun was this :—
During the whole day of Saturday there had been a match
going on among us all, as to who should catch the most and
largest fish. It so happened that I had either not been in
the mood for fishing, or had been in poor luck, for I had
caught little or nothing.

As evening closed the party embarked in the boat to return
across the Pond, and were quizzing me most unmercifully for
my poor success; and I in return was making empty boasts,
which I had no dream of realizing, as I stood in the bow idly
lashing the water with my line, that I would surely catch a
larger fish than all their’s put together, before we reached the
other shore. There was no bait on my hook, and there seemed
surely no great probability of my performing any such miracle.
Our boat was slowly winding among the buried logs, of
which I have spoken, when suddenly, as my line dropped in
our wake, the gleam of the leaden sinkers caught the eye of
a huge fish which made its lair under the logs, and in a twink-
ling I was jerked head-foremost over the bow into the water,
amidst the laughing shouts of my companions, who wider-

THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 73

stood the thing in an instant.. Some one shouted comfort-
ingly in my ear, as I rose spluttering from the sudden plunge,
“Ha! ha! I think the fish has caught you instead! Hold on
to him! hold on!”

The fish was secured, after a desperate struggle, with our
united force; and as I was yet quite a little fellow, the joke
of my having been “caught by the fish,” was too good a one
not to tell for a long time among such boys !

We had skating, too, in the winter, and many a wild scene
there was when we were flying, like squads of swallows, hither
and yon upon the ice. There were some winters when extra-
ordinary floods came in the early part of the season, and then
the whole forest on the lowest side of the plantation would
be flooded, and its trunks stand several feet deep in the clear
water. The change of a night or two would freeze this over
suddenly—and then such a time!

The earliest dawn of Saturday found us afoot with prepa-
ration, for we had scarcely slept for eagerness through that
long dull night of Friday! Such clanking of skates as we set
off in a run, with a cold bite for breakfast in our hands, and
some more stuffed into our pockets for dinner! This was too
great a time to think much of eating.

Away across the wide bare fields, scrambling over the
rough, hard frozen ploughed ground in our thick boots, which
made great clamor on the crisp clear morning air, we hurried
with smoking nostrils and thick gloved hands. Our bodies
just from the warm bed, are almost cut in two at first by the
cold scythe of that winter’s breath in its wide keen sweep
across the open fields—but soon we reach the shelter of the
heavy wood, and then our blood comes glowing warm again
back to the tingling surface, and with eager shouts we greet
the ‘strange scene.

Sunrise is streaming now down through the dark trunks in
many a line of rosy light that is reflected in sharp broken
blazes far and wide, from the aerial mirror underneath,

74 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

that holds that mighty forest, all glory-tipped, reversed, in its
hard clear bosom. The fire is soon built to warm our freezing
fingers while the skates are fitted; but it seems a fearful
thing to trust ourself out on mid-air thus—for so to our awed
sense, that dark translucent depth appears—as we shoot above
its mysteries, almost of our own volition,

« And yet no footing seen.”

Motion soon dispels the chill of strangeness, and now with
hardy eagerness we spring away in facile glide among the
great trees, and soon we dart, and wind, and fly, as in that
marvelous sense of motion without wings, in overcoming space,
that sometimes visits us in dreams. How rapturous that
wild ecstacy of speed! We flew past walls of trunks, run
into each other—we circled like thoughts, whirling as moun-
tain winds are eddied—into the light, and out, like glittering
shadows dimmed, while the ringing clangors of our steel-shod
heels receded in soft moanings from our swift way !

So sped our lives, winter and summer, as a vision goes, until
the time came at last when we must leave that old place, some
of us for wider fields of busy strife, out in the great world
of men, and others for college. With what fond regrets my
memory revisits those rude and pleasant scenes. They: are
near the last of those still-life pictures, where the soul rests
calmly in the past.

Now the action thickens as the opening turmoil hourly
includes new scenes, new experiences, with diversified excite-
ments rousing deeper passions. The boy is yet not all a boy,
and the consciousness of strange yearnings and new ambitions
begin to move his breast with undefined wonder.

CHAPTER IV.

THE NIGHT HUNT IN RECESS.

Bur still the old leaven leaveneth the whole lump, and with
the advent of Commencement, earlier passions soon displaced
the new ambitions. Ah! do I not remember wg}l those turbu-
lent times—when, having got somewhat up in my “teens,” 1
began to “feel myself,’ and think of a truant independen*
in college recess ?

The “old folks,” as I and sundry other “ young gentlemex.
sophomores” of the neighborhood, were disposed to believe
unanimously,—were entirely too close and particular; or, iz
a word, since our college experience, apron-strings were he

75

6 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS

ginning to be manacles! A declaration of independence had
become necessary! not an open one, but a declaration of
fe expediency ! ?? such an one as we could make without involy-
ing serious consequences.

For instance, tem, oyr right to creep out of our windows
when the “sléepless Gryphons” were abet 1oy once “caught
napping’—to keep “tryst” with our “peers” in view of a
descent upon some old snarler’s watermelon patch, which lay
odd miles away. Item, our right by the same mode of exit,
or other strategy, at a given hour of the night, to meet at the
said given place, with the intention of enjoying the moon in
a “coon” or “’possum” hunt with the “Darkies” and their
dogs, down at the “Quarter,’* &e., &e., &e.

As the time had come when we felt it necessary to make
such doughty demonstrations, our measures were of course
taken with due an! necessary forecast. i

Old Sambo, down at the Quarter, the dingy Nimrod of
darkness and the “ arkies,” was first to be propitiated. He
is somewhat coy at “rst, tor is grizzly poll has been pene-
trated with a veneration mos: profound for the dictum of the
constituted authorities at the “ B’z House!” Sundry presents
of “baccar” pipes, and old snil':xza, assisted by a most con-
descending and con‘dential manzer on our part, gradually
bring him around to a reciprocation. In vague hints, and
through telegraphic nods and gestures of most profound signi-
fication, the time, pace, probable force, and accompaniments
of his noxt great turn-c..t from the Quarter, for a “coon”
hunt, are all isfiparted to the “young massa.” We of course
instantly convey the mamentous news through somewhat less
mysterious mediums to sundry young companions, living near
at hand, who are eagerly awaiting it.

The important night has arrived. The “old folks’ have

* On the plantations there are usually several villages, or settlements of
the negroes, which are called ‘ Quarters.”

THE NIGHT-HUNT IN RECESS. 17

narely time to commence their first snooze, having taken it
for granted that we are where dutiful and obedient sons should
be at such an hour—in the land of Nod—when by sundry
silent exhibitions of our skill at escalading, we have made our
escape from the sacred precincts of authority, and are off to
Sambo’s Quarter, footing it with a fluttering heart beneath
the uncertain starlight.

Now as we had been prohibited from joining in “ night-
hunts,” first, on the ground that they injured our health, and
secondly, on the ground that they were dangerous, and third
and lastly, on the ground that it was highly undignified that
young gentlemen “to the manor born,” and just from college,
too, should go out hunting with “the servants :” we of course,
with the heavy portent of all these formidable indictments
hanging over us, felt that discovery would be attended with
just the requisite amount of danger to give piquancy to the
commencement of an enterprise.

If our pulse was quickened, our heels were not less so by
such considerations. We were sinning on the strength of our |
instincts, and we knew it! We pause at the several cross-
paths on the way, to wait for the other young recusants who
were to joinus. One after another they come in, each usually
attended by a favorite servant not far from his own age, who
has been admitted to his confidence. Joyously enough we
begin to gabble as the distance between us and the awful
shadows of the “ Big House” is increased. Soon the

««_____Long leveled rule of streaming light,”

for a sight of which the bewitched lady in Comus prayed,
“visits” us, and as we approach, the one ruddy “level”
divides itself into many a narrow fitful stream from the open
doors and glowing hearths of the “ Quarter !”’

The crossing of shadows to and fro shows that all there 1s
alert. We hear the subdued too-oot of a horn, and the low
opening howl of the gathering dogs in answer. We begix to

78 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

grow silent, and move faster. The horn is sounded more
boldly, and the howls accompany it in a gathering cadence.

Now the scene has burst upon us through an opening of the
trees !—There they are! Negroes of all degrees, size and
age, and of dogs—

“Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
Hound or spaniel, brack or lym,
Or bobtail tike, or trundle tail.”

All are there, in one conglomerate of active, noisy confusion.
When indications of the hurried approach of our company are
perceived, a great accession to the hubbub is consequential.

Old Sambo sounds a shriller note upon his horn, the dogs
rise from independent howls to a simultaneous yell, and along
with all the young half-naked darkies rush to meet us. The
women come to the doors with their blazing lamps lifted above
their heads, that they may get a look at the “young masters,”
aad we, shouting with excitement, and blinded by the light,
plunge stumbling through the meeting current of dogs and
young negroes, into the midst of the gathering party. Here
we are suddenly arrested by a sort of awe as we find ourselves
in the presence of old Sambo. The young dogs leap upon
us with their dirty fore-paws, but we merely push aside their
caresses, for old Sambo and his old dog Bose are the two
centres of our admiration and interest.

Old Sambo is the “Mighty Hunter before’—the moon!
of all that region. He is seamed and scarred with the pitti-
less siege uf sixty winters! Upon all matters appertaining
to such hunts, his word is “daw,” while the “tongue” of his
favorite and ancient friend Bose is recognized as “gospel.”
In our young imaginations, the two are respectfully identified.

Old Sambo, with his blanket “ roundabout’’—his cow’s-horn
trumpet slung about his shoulders by a tow string—his bare
head, with its greyish fleece of wool—the broad grin of com-
placency, showing his yet sound white teeth—and rolling the

THER NIGHT-HUNT IN RECESS. 79

whites of his eyes benignantly over the turmoil of the scene
—was to us the higher prototype of Bose. He, with the
proper slowness of dignity, accepts the greet of our patting
caresses, with a formal wagging of the tail, which seems to
say—‘O, I am used to this!’ while, when the young dogs
leap upon him with obstreperous fawnings, he will correct
them into propriety with stately snarling. They knew him
for their leader !—they should be more respectful !

Now old Sambo beconies patronizing to us, as is necessary
and proper in our new relations! From his official posi-
tion of commander-in-chief, he soon reduces the chaos around
us into something like subjection, and then in a little time
comes forth the form of our night’s march. A few stout
young men who have obeyed his summons have gathered
around him from the different huts of the Quarter—some with
axes, and others with torches of pine and bark. The dogs
become more restless, and we more excited, as these indices
of immediate action appear.

Now, with a long blast from the cow’s-horn of Sambo, and
a deafening clamor of all sizes, high and low—from men,
women, children and dogs, we take up the line of march
for the woods. Sambo leads, of course. We are soon trail-
ing after him in single file, led by the glimmer of the torches
far ahead.

Now the open ground of the plantation has been passed,
and as we approach the deep gloom of the bordering forest—

“Those perplexed woods,
The nodding horror of whose shady brows
Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger”—

even the yelpings of the excited dogs cease to be heard, and
they dash on into the darkness as if they were going to work
—while we with our joyous chattering subsided into silence,
enter these®“ long-drawn aisles” with a sort of shiver ; the
torches showing, as we pass in a dim light, the trees—their -

80 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

huge trunks vaulting over head into the night, with here and
there a star shining like a gem set into their tall branching
capitals—while on either side we look into depths of black-
ness as unutterably drear to us as thoughts of death and
‘nothingness. Oh, it was in half trembling wonder then, we
crowded, trampling on the heels of those before, and, when
after awhile the rude young negroes would begin to laugh
aloud, we felt that in some sort it was profane.

But such impressions never lasted long in those days.
Every other mood and thought gives way to the novelty and
contagious excitement of adventure. We are soon using our
lungs as merrily as the rest. The older dogs seem to know
perfectly, from the direction taken, what was the game to be
pursued for the night. Had we gone up by the old Field
where the Persimmon trees grow, they would have understood
that “possums” were to be had; but as old Sambo led off
through the deep woods towards the swamps, it said “ coons”
to them as plain as if they had been Whigs of 1840.

The flush of blood begins to subside as we penetrate deeper
into the wood, and as we hear old Sambo shout to his staff
officers and immediate rear guard, “Hush dat ’ar jawing, you
niggers, dar,” we take it for granted that it is a hint, meant
not to be disrespected by us, that silence is necessary, lest
we should startle the game too soon and confuse the dogs.

All is silence now, except the rustle of our tramp over the
dried autumn leaves, and occasional patter of the feet of a
dog who ranges near to our path. Occasionally a white dog
comes suddenly out of the darkness into view and disappears
as soon, leaving our imagination startled as if some curious
sprite had come “momently” from out its silent haunts to
peep at us. Then we will hear the rustling of some rapid
thing behind us, and looking round, see nothing; then spring
aside with a nervous bound and fluttering pulse, as some black
object brushes by our legs—‘“‘ Nothin’ but dat dog, Riccer Trim-
‘ bush,” chuckles a darkie, who observed us—but the couplet,—

THE NIGHT-HUNT IN RECESS. 81

« And the kelpie must flit from the black bog pit,
And the brownie must not tarry,”

flashes across our memory from the romance of superstition,
with the half shudder that is the accompaniment of such
dreamy images. :

Hark, a dog opens—another, then another! We are still
in a moment, listening—all eyes are turned upon old Sambo,
the oracle. He only pauses for a minute.

“Dem’s de pups—ole dogs aint dar!” A pause. “Pshaw,
nothin but a ole har !”—and a long, loud blast of the horn
sounds the recall.

We move on—and now the frosty night air has become
chilly, and we begin to feel that we have something to do
before us. Our legs are plied too lustily on the go-ahead
principle for us to have time to talk. The young dogs have
ceased to give tongue; for like unruly children they have
dashed off in chase of what came first, and’ as the American
hare (“ Lepus Americanus’’) is found nearly everywhere, it
was the earliest object. :

Just when the darkness is most deep, and the sounds about
our way most hushed, up wheels the silver moon, and with a
mellowed glory overcomes the night. The weight of darkness
has been lifted from us, and we trudge along more cheerily !
The dogs are making wider ranges, and we hear nothing of
them. The silence weighs upon us, and old Sambo gives an
occasional whoop of encouragement. We would like, too, to
relieve our lungs, but he says, “‘ nobody mus holler now but
dem dat de dog knows: make ’em bother!” We must per-
force be quiet; for “de dog’? means Bose, and we must be
deferential to his humors !

Tramp, tramp, tramp, it has been for miles, and not a note
from the dogs. We are beginning to be fatigued; our spirits
sink, and we have visions of the warm room and bed we have
deserted at home. The torches are burning down, and the
cold, pale moon-light is sates than that they give. One

82 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

after another the young dogs come panting back to us, and
fall lazily into our wake. ‘“ Hang coon hunts in general !—
this is no joke; all cry and no wool!”

Hark! a deep-mouthed, distant bay! The sound is electri.
cal; our impatience and fatigue are gone! All ears and
eyes, we crowd around old Sambo. The oracle attitudinizes.
He leans forward with one ear turned towards the earth in
the direction of the sound. Breathlessly we gaze upon him.
Hark! another bay; another; then several join in. The old
man has been unconsciously soliloquizing from the first sound.

“Golly, dat’s nigger Trim!” in an under tone; “he know
de coon!’ Next sound. “Dat’s a pup; shaw!” Pause.
‘“‘Dat’s a pup, agin! Qh, niggers, no coon dar!”

Lifting his outspread hand, which he brings down with a
loud slap upon his thigh; “Yah! yah! dat’s ole Music; look
out, niggers!” Then, as a hoarse, low bay comes booming
to us through a pause, he bounds into the air with the caperish
agility of a colt, and breaks out in ecstasy, “Whoop! whoop!
dat’s de ole dog; go my Bose!” Then striking hurriedly
through the brush in the direction of the sounds, we only hear
from him again,

“Yah! yah! yah! dat’s a coon, niggers! Bose dar!”
And away we rush as fast as we can scramble through the
underbrush of the thick wood. The loud burst of the whole
pack opening together, drowns even the noise of our progress.

The cry of a full pack is maddening music to the hunter.
Fatigue is forgotten, and obstacles are nothing. On we go;
yelling in chorus with the dogs. Our direction is towards the
swamp, and they are fast: hurrying to its fastnesses. But
what do we care! Briars and logs; the brush of dead trees;
plunges half leg deep into the watery mire of boggy places
are alike disregarded. The game is up! Hurrah! hurrah!
we must be in at the death! So we scurry, led by the mad-
dening chorus—

«‘__ while the babbling echo mocks the hounds.”

THE NIGHT-HUNT IN RECESS. 83

Suddenly the reverberations die away. Old Sambo halts.
When we get into ear-shot the only word we hear is, “Tree’d!”
This from the oracle is sufficient. We have another long
scramble, in which we are led by the monotonous baying of a
single dog.

We have reached the place at last all breathless. Our
torches have been nearly extinguished. One of the young
dogs is seated at the foot of a tree, and looking up, it bays
incessantly. Old Sambo. pauses for awhile to. survey the
scene. The old dogs are circling round and round, jumping
up against the side of every tree, smelling as high as they
can reach. They are not satisfied, and Sambo waits for his
tried oracles to solve the mystery. He regards them steadily
and patiently for awhile; then steps forward quickly, and
beats off the young dog who had “lied” at the “tree.”

The veterans now have a quiet field to themselves, and
after some further delay in jumping up the sides of the sur-
rounding trees, to find the scent, they finally open in full
burst upon the trail. Old Sambo exclaims curtly, as we set
off in the new chase,

“Dat looks like coon! but cats is about !”

Now the whole pack opens again, and we are off after it.
We all understand the allusion to the cats—for we know that,
like the raccoon, this animal endeavors to baffle the dogs by
running some distance up a tree, and then springing off upon
another, and so on until it can safely descend. The young
dogs take it for granted that he is in the first tree, while the
older ones sweep circling round and round until they are
convinced that the animal has not escaped. They thus baffle
the common trick which they have learned through long ex-
perience, and recovering the trail of escape, renew the
chase.

. Under ordinary circumstances we would already have been
sufficiently exhausted; but the magnetism of the scene lifts
our feet as if they had been shod with wings. Another

84 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

weary scramble over every provoking obstacle, and the soli-
tary baying of a dog is heard again winding up the “cry.”

When we reach the “tree” this time, and find it is another
“‘feint,” we are entirely disheartenid, and all this excitement
and fatigue of the night reacting upon us leaves us utterly
exhausted, and disinclined to budge one foot further. Old
Sambo comes up—he has watched with an astute phiz the
movements of the dogs for some time.

“Thought dat ware a ole coon from de fust! Dat’s a
mighty ole coon!” with a dubious shake of his head. “ Ole
coon nebber run dat long!’ Another shake of the head, and
addressing himself to his “staff:” “Ole coon nebber run’ed
dis fur, niggers!’ Then turning to us—“ Massas, dat a cat!
—'taint no coon!”

The dogs break out again, at the same moment, and with
peculiar fierceness, in full cry. “Come ‘long, niggers !—
maby dat’s a coon—maby ’taint!’”’ and off he starts again.

We are electrified by the scenes and sounds once more, and
“follow, still follow,” forgetting everything in the resewed
hubbub and excitement. Wearily now we go aga-n over
marsh and quagmire, bog and pond, rushing through vines
and thickets and dead limbs. Ah, what glimpses have we
of our cozy home during this wild chase! Now our strength
is gone—we are chilled, and our teeth chatter—the moon
seems to be the centre of cold as the sun is of heat, and its
beams strike us like arrows of ice. Yet the cry of the dogs
is onward, and old Sambo and his staff yell on /

Suddenly there is a pause! the dogs are silent, and we hold
up! “Is it all lost?” we exclaim, as we stagger, with our
bruised and exhausted limbs, to a seat upon an old log. The
stillness is as deep as midnight—the owl strikes the watch
with his too-whoo! Hah! that same hoarse, deep bay which
first electrified us comes booming again through the stillness.

“Yah! yah! dat ole coon am done for! Bose got he,
uiggers—Gemmen, come on !”

THE NIGHT-HUNT IN RECESS. 8h

The inspiriting announcement, that Bose had tree’d at last,
is balm to all our wounds, and we follow in the hurry-scurry
rush to the tree. Arrived there, we find old Bose on end
barking up a great old oak, while the other dogs lie panting
around. “Dare he am,” says old Sambo. “Make a fire,
niggers!’ There is but a single stump of a torch left; but
in a little while they have collected dried wood enough to
kindle a great blaze.

“Which ‘nigger’s gwine to climb dat tree ?”’ says old Sambo,
looking round inquiringly. Nobody answers. The insinua-
tions he had thrown out, that it might be a cat, have had
their effect upon the younger darkies. Sambo waits, in dig-
nified silence, for an answer, and throwing off his horn, with
an indignant gesture, he says,—

“You d—n pack of chicken-gizzards, niggers !—climb de
tree myself!” and straightway the wiry old man, with the
activity of a boy, springs against the huge trunk, and com-
mences to ascend the tree.

Bose gives an occasional low yelp as he looks after his
master. The other dogs sit with upturned noses, and on
restless haunches, as they watch his ascent.

Nothing is heard for some time, but the fall of dead
branches and bark which he throws down. The fire blazes
high, and the darkness about us, beyond its light, is unpene-
trated even by the moon. We stand in eager groups watch-
ing his ascent. He is soon lost to our view amongst the
limbs; yet we watch on until our necks ache, while the eager
dogs fidget on their haunches, and emit short yelps of im-
patience. We see him, against the moon, far up amongst the
uppermost forks, creeping like a beetle, up, still up! We are
all on fire—the whole fatigue and all the bruises of the chase
forgotten! our fire crackles and blazes fiercely as our im-
patience, and sends quick tongues of light, piercing the black
throng of forest sentinels about us.

86 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Suddenly the topmost branches of the great oak begin to
shake, and seem to be lashing the face of the moon.

“De cat! de cat! look out down dar!’ The dogs burst
into an eager howl! He is shaking him off! A dark object
comes thumping down into our midst, and shakes the ground
with its fall. The eager dogs rush upon it! but we saw the
spotted thing with the electric flashing of its eyes. Yells
and sputtering screams—the howls of pain—the gnashing
growls of assault—the dark, tumbling struggle that is rolled,
with its fierce clamors, out from our fire-light into the dark
shadows of the wood, are all enough to madden us.

We all rush after the fray, and strike wildly into its midst
with the clubs and dead limbs we have snatched, when one
of the body-guards happens to think of his axe, and with a
single blow settles it!

All is over! We get home as we may, and about the
time

«—— the dapple grey coursers of the morn

Beat up the light with their bright silver hoofs,
And chase it though the sky,”

we creep cautiously into our back window, and sleep not the
less profoundly for our fatigue, that we have to charge our
late hour of rising, next day, upon Bacop ar the Tliad, ir-
stead of the “Night Hunt.”

CHAPTER V.

AUDUBON—-THE HUNTER-NATURALIST.

THE time had now come to my developed and overflowing
passions when life must mate itself with destiny ; when tastes
and energies thus nourished in wild seclusion, should seck
their legitimate direction—should break away on their own
course to find their natural level!

And so they did, with a vengeance! For had the uncon-
cuerable instinct been wanting in my nature, there was one
NAME that had so filled my life, that it alone would have
been sufficient to inspire me with a giant’s strength, had such
been necessary, to burst all bonds and away upon the same
free track !

87

88 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Audubon! Audubon! Delightful name! Ah, do I not
remember well the hold it took upon my young imagination
when I heard the fragmented rumor from afar, that there was
a strange man abroad then, who lived in the wilderness with
only his dog and gun, and did nothing day by day, but foiow
up the birds; watching every thing they might do; keeping
in sight of them all the time, wherever they went, while light
lasted; then sleeping beneath the tree where they perched,
to be up and follow them again with the dawn, until he knew
every habit and way that belonged to them. That when he
was satisfied, he would shoot them in some manner, so as not
to tear their plumage, and then sitting down on the mossy
roots of an oak, and with nobody to connoisseur for him but
his wise looking dog, and the squirrel that stamped and
scolded at him from the limbs above, would draw such
marvelous pictures of birds as the world never saw before!

Oh, what a happy, happy being that strange man must be,
I used to think; and what a strong and brave one, too, to
sleep out among the panthers and wild cats, where the Indian
whoop was heard—trusting only to his single arm and his
faithful dog. I loved to speculate about that dog. He must
be larger than my dog “Milo,” I thought, and just about as
gentle and true, but a little more knowing. How I envied
him the happiness of such a master and such a life.

As for the master, what magical conjurations of a charmed
fancy I loved to associate with him. He must be noble and
good, and wear such lofty calmness upon his brow. I had
an ideal of physical perfection, and below it could not bear to
conceive tnat so heroic a philosopher could fall.

What a martyr-spirit his must be; and what a holy enthu-
siasm leads him on through tangled swamps, where the cougar
yelled, alligators roared, and hideous serpents parted, with
their wavy spotted lengths, the green scum of stagnant pools;
up difficult mountains, where the rattle-snake sprung its
deadly alarum amidst the mossy fissures of the crumbling

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 89

stones, and the eagle whetted its hooked beak upon the crag-
points ; or, beneath the profound shadows of primeval forests,
where the few sunbeams that straggled through at noonday,
looked like gold dust scattered over the black earth—dcown
the destructive flood of mighty rivers, or beside crystal lakes
set in a columnar rim of giant cypresses ; on the sky-bounded
ocean-heaved prairies, or where the green and glinting ice-
bergs thundered crashingly against the hoar cliffs “ of fretted
Labrador,” or the “tropic gulf” hurled at the low “ Keys”’ its
foaming mountains—through, amidst, and over all, his daunt-
less spirit was passing, led always by the winnowing sound
of wings.

What a poetical enchantment there was to me in such a
life! What sights of awe and of beauty he must see. What
images of touching truth—of odd, peculiar humors he must
have stored. And that magical power he was said to possess,
to tame in colors the very waves upon the leap, and the arrowy
Albatross upon-the plunge into its beaded crest !

All these were so surprising and miraculous to me, that I
wondered, in my simplicity, whether such devotion was not
sinful, and such surpassing works would not bring upon their
author persecution and imprisonment for necromancy, as the
story books told had been the case of old.

It seemed to me too much bliss and too many gifts for a
single mortal to enjoy! I felt, not envious; but a deep emu-
lation was stirred within me. I vowed, in my inmost heart,
that I would first sce all those things for myself, with my own
eyes; where and as he had seen them—out upon the broad
face of the extended world,—and then I could look upon his
work and know, with an appreciative knowledge, whether he
had wrought these miracles or not.

This resolve at once gave tone to my after life. Many a

‘tie was rent, and much agony endured by my friends, when I
became an unrecking wanderer through wild and distant
regions. The uttermost arms of our tremendous svaward

90 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

floods saw me amongst their springs. The salt and tumbling
Gulf tossed me upon its southern shores, and broad savannahs
swelled in my westward course into undulating plains; and
they yet rose, across their wearisome breadth, into tall,
rounded hills, that grew apace, with crags upon their heads,
until heap upon heap far glinting through the clouds, the
pinnacled sharp rocks climbed upwards, and the vast forest
of crags spread its white bloomy tops among the stars.

My restless step was everywhere; my eager eyes saw all
that our great continent could show. The grizzly bear and
the tropic bird were equally known to me. The savage
trooper and the Mexican slave had been familiars, as well as
the fierce bandit, and the stern, simple-hearted hunter. Years
of my earlier manhood passed in these erratic wanderings. I
had grown familiar with all wild, grotesque and lonely crea-
tures that populate those infinite solitudes of nature, “that
own not man’s dominion.” The vision and the passions of
my boyhood still haunted me, and the rustling of free wings
by my ear yet awakened all pleasant images.

Now, I felt that I had a right to know and see, face to
face, that remarkable man whose deeds and life had so much
occupied my imagination—who had so made a living reality
out of what had been to me the poetry of life—aye, a poetry
which had proved with me, stronger

‘Than stipulations, duties, reverences,

and driven me far and wide, an April shadow chased before
the fitful wind!

Should I ever see him? The eager questioning lived about
my heart whenever I heard his name. I returned home, “the
prodigal son,” my spirit much tamed and chastened ; yet the
old leaven fermenting deep beneath the calmer surface.

My restless steps had not long been still. I became again
a traveler.

Our boat landed one morning about daybreak at Pittsburg

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 97

~-that singular city, that looks as if it had been built over
the very gates of Acheron. Soon as I made my appearance
in the raw, foggy air, upon the wharf, early as it was, I was
surrounded by scores of “strikers” and agents of the different
hotels and transportation lines.

Amidst the yells and deafening clamors of contending
claims on every side, I permitted myself to be bodily ravished
into a coach, and hurried off, bag and baggage, for—the word
of the Darky “Striker” being accepted—‘“the most splen-
_ diferous hotel in the city!” As it happened to be the one I
knew, and had selected beforehand, I was content to take his
definition of its superlative excellence.

Before I reached my destination, the coach was hailed from
a street corner, and a fellow, muffled in a pilot cloth, sprang
in and took a seat beside me. To my no little astonishment,
he seemed to take the most sudden and peculiar interest in
me, and, greatly to the exaltation of my inward consciousness
of great deserts, plied me with a series of the sharpest ques-
tionings as to my whereabouts “when I was at home’—my
destination, and above all, my route—with the roundest and
most voluble protestations as to the affectionate interest he felt
in seeing that all travelers, especially such looking ones as I
was, were properly warned of the complicated impositions and
knaveries practised habitually upon them, by the many trans-
portation lines in this wicked city ; and to wind up thig touch-
ing exordium, he frankly assured me that the “Stage Route”
across the mountains was the cheapest—the most safe—the
“ most genteelest’’—and altogether the route he would recom-
mend to such a gentleman as me!

The milk of human kindness was somewhat stirred in my
veins, responsive to this gratuitous exhibition of a broad phi-
lanthropy—but as it happened that I had determined upon
the “Canal Route,” I waived, with the most thankful acknowl-
edgments, any present committal, and gratefully accepted the

92 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

card he thrust into my hand. But, as it most unfortunately
occurred, I found the office of the “Canal Route” for Phila-
delphia, &c., was next door to our hotel, and I was tempted,
weakly enough, no doubt! to go in and book my name “clear
through.” Insensate creature that I was. The canal boats
would not start till after dark, so that I spent the hours
allotted to daylight by the cathedral clocks, in exploring the
streets of this dim Cyclopian city.

The incessant clang of sledge-hammers had become suffi-
ciently monotonous when the evening closed in, and I was
glad enough to take coach and be transported to the Canal
Depot, when the usual vexations and delay consequent, had
to be endured.

Finally, however, we got underweigh, with such a cargo of
pigs, poultry and humanity, as even canal boats are seldom
blessed with. I stood upon tiptoe for the fresh air in the
cabin, until the time had actually come when people must ge
to bed; when that awful personage, the Captain, summoned
us all together, and informed us that every man, woman and
child aboard, must stow his, her or itself away along the face
of the narrow walls, in the succession of their registration
during the day. Now, it happened that as gentlemen are
not usually up before daybreak, that I stood first upon the
first list, and was of course entitled to the first choice of
hammocks. We panted in the centre of the close-jammed
crowd, waiting till the ladies, who always take precedence in
America, had been called off. As it happened that this
right of choice was finally definitive for the route, and deter-
mined whether one should sleep upon a hammock, or the
floor, or the tables, for several successive nights—it was a
matter of no little moment.

It occurred while the ladies were being disposed of, that I
heard above the buzz around me the name of Audubon spoken.
My attention was instantly attracted by that magical sound.

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 93

I listened in breathless eagerness. I heard a gentleman near
me say—‘ Mr. Audubon is last on the list; I fear he will not
get a bed, we are so crowded!”

I felt my heart leap.

“What,” said I, leaning forward quickly, “is it possible
Mr. Audubon can be aboard? I thought he was still on his
Rocky Mountain tour!”

“We are just returning, sir,” said the gentleman court-
eously, half smiling, as he observed the excited expression of
my face.

“But, you are joking, are you not?” said I, hardly able to
realize so much happiness. He cannot really be in this boat.
Where? Which is he?”

“He 7 actually in this very cabin,” said he, turning full
upon me.

“The man of all others in the world I wanted to see most,”
I ejaculated, half inwardly.
| “Well, there he is,” said the gentleman, laughing, as he
pointed to a Suge pile of green blankets and fur which I had
before observed stretched upon one of the benches, and took
to be the fat bale of some Western trader.

“What, that Mr. Audubon?” I exclaimed, naively.

“Yes; he is taking a nap.”

At that moment my name was called out by the Captain
as entitled to the first choice of berths.

“JT waive my right of choice in favor of Mr. Audubon,”
was my answer.

Now the green bale stirred a little—half turned upon its
narrow resting-place, and, after awhile, sat erect, and showed
me, to my no small surprise, that there was a man inside

f it.

A patriarchal beard fell, white and wavy, down his breast;
a pair of hawk-like eyes gleamed sharply out from the fuzzy
shroud of cap and collar.

I drew near, with a thrill of irrepressible curiosity. The

94 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

moment my eyes took in the noble contour of that Roman
face, I felt that it was he, and could be no one else. Yee, it
was Audubon in his wilderness garb, hale and alert, with
sixty winters upon his shoulders, as one of his own “old
eagles, feathered to the heel,”—fresh from where the floods
are cradled amid crag-piled glooms, or flowery extended
plains !

He looked as I had dreamed the antique Plato must have
looked, with that fine, classic head and lofty mien! He
fully realized the hero of the ideal. With what eager and
affectionate admiration I gazed upon him, the valorous and
venerable Sage!

What a deathless and beautiful dedication his had been to
the holy priesthood of nature! I felt that the very hem of
his garments—of that rusty and faded green blanket, ought
to be sacred t all devotees of science, and was so to me.

What an indomitable flame, that not

‘The wreakful siege of battering years” P

could qu.ll, must fire that heroic heart. To think, that now,
when “ Tix.e had delved its parallels upon his brow’’—when
he had alrexdy accomplished the most Herculean labor of the
age in his “Birds of America’’—still unsatisfied, he should
undert.ke a new, and as grand a work, upon the animals;
and now he was returning with the trophies of science gath-
ered on his toilsome and dangerous journeyings ! F

Ah, how I venerated him! How I longed to know him,
and to be permitted to sit at his feet and learn, and hear his
own livs discourse of those loveable themes which had so
absorbed my life.

I scarcely slept that night, for my brain was teeming with
novel and happy images. I determined to stretch to the
utmost the traveller’s license, and approach him in the morn-
ing. My happy fortune in having been able to make the
“surrender” in his favor, assisted me, or else his quick eye

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 95

detected at once the sympathy of our tastes; be that as it
may, we were soon on good terms.

Like all men who have lived much apart with nature, he
was not very talkative. His conversation was impulsive and
fragmentary :—that, taken together with a mellow Gallic
idiom, rendered his style pleasingly titilating to a curious
listener, as I was eager to get at his stores of knowledge; and
compare my own diffuse but extended observation with his
profound accuracy.

The hours of that protracted journey glided by as in a
dream. I was forever at his side, catching with a delighted
eagerness at those characteristic scraps that fill from his
lips.

I was anxious to obtain an accurate insight into the man—
the individual. I found rather more of the man of the world
about him, than I was inclined to expect, though every inch
of him was symmetrical with his character of naturalist, and
many inches are there in that, growing through tall cubits
into the Titanic girth.

He had several new and curious animals along with him,
which he had taken in those distant wilds where I had myself
seen them in their freedom, and now they looked like old
acquaintances to me; and I soon got up an intimacy with the
swift Fox, the snarling Badger and the Rocky Mountain
Deer. He exhibited to me some of the original drawings of
the splendid work on the Zoology of the continent, which his
sons are now engaged in bringing out. I recognized in them
the miraculous pencil of the “Birds of America.” But I
observed several personal traits that interested me very much.

The confinement we were subjected to on board the canal
boat, was very tiresome to his habits of freedom. We used
to get ashore and walk for hours along the tow-path ahead
of the boat; and I observed, with astonishment, that, though
over sixty, he could walk me down with ease.

Now, I was something of a walker, and was not very far

96 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

advanced in years, and though I do not exactly affect the
nimbleness of Cleopatra, who was seen to

“Hop forty paces through the public street,”

yet I pretend to very respectable ambulatory powers. Th ugh,
I say, I would not enter in a match with Gildersleeve, Col.
Stannard, Kit North, John Neal, or anybody else who has
pedestrinated himself into an Olympic Crown; yet I do set
up to be a walker, and I was not a little confounded at s:eing
this old man leave me, panting to the leeward.

His physical energies seemed entirely unimpaired. Another
striking evidence of this he gave me. A number of us wer)
standing grouped around him, on the top of the boat, one
clear sunshiny morning; we were at the same time passing
through a broken and very picturesque region; his kee. eyes,
with an abstracted, intense expression, an expression of looking
over the heads of men around him, out into nature, peculiar
to them, were glancing over the scenery as we gli cd through,
when suddenly he pointed with his finger towards the fence
of a field, several hundred yards off, with the exclamation,—

“See! yonder is a Fox Squirrel, running along the top
rail! It is not often I have seen them in Pennsylvania!”

Now his power of vision must have been singularly acute,
to have distinguished that it was a Fox Sq irrel at such a
distance; for only myself and one other person out of a dozen
or two, who were looking in the same direction, detected the
creature at all, and we could barely distinguish that there
was some object moving on the rail. I asked hi~ curiously,
if he was sure of its being a Fox Squirrel. He smiled, and
flashed his hawk-like glance upon me, as he a: swered ;

“ Ah, I have an Indian’s eye!” And I had only to look into
it to feel that he had.

These are slight but peculiar traits, in perfect keeping with
his general characteristics, as the naturalist and the man.
Of course, I never permitted that acquaintance to fall through,

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 97

while he lived, and amidst the many and wearisome vicissi-
tudes which have befallen since, I have retained fresh and
unimpaired the memory of that journey through the moun-
tains, as one of the green places of the past, where the sun-
light always lives.

Thus it was I came first to meet him, laurelled and grey,
my highest ideal of the Hunter-Naturalist,—the old Audubon!
Ah, the grandeur of that man’s life! though it had filled my
own with poetic yearnings in my youth, yet they have lost
nothing in fire and earnest upward through my maturer
age! Now that he is dead, and I can look upon his career with
sobered vision, undazzled by the prestige of presence, un-
biassed by personal affection, and from the stand-point of
wide experience and comparison with other men, still I can
speak of as a reality what was once more hke the thought of a
boy’s daydream,—that in all the world’s history of wonderful
men, there is not to my mind one story of life so filled with
beautiful romance as this of J. J. Audubon, considered in the
mere deatils of its facts. Take them in his own simple words
as furnished by himself incidentally, in the text of his great
work, and what a wondrous tale it is!

We will hear then from his own lips something of how
the greatest of the Hunter-Naturalists was developed, catch
glimpses of the boy-Audubon, artlessly conveyed through his
own memories and impressions of early scenes, yearnings
and impressions, up to the period of manly achievement; of
doubts, of failure, and finally of gloriously consummated tri-
umph! In his charming preface to the Biography of Birds,
written the March of 1831, he says of himself :—

I received life and light in the New World. When I had
hardly yet learned to walk, and to articulate those first words
always so endearing to parents, the productions of Nature
that lay spread all around, were constantly pointed out to
me. They soon became my playmates; and before my ideas
were sufficiently formed to enable me to estimate the differ-

98 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

ence between the azure tints of the sky, and the emerald hue
of the bright foliage, I felt that an intimacy with them, not
consisting of friendship merely, but bordering on phrenzy,
must accompany my steps through life;—and now, more
than ever, am I persuaded of the power of those early im-
pressions. They laid such hold upon me, that, when removed
from the woods, the prairies and the brooks, or shut up from
the view of the wide Atlantic, I experienced none of those
pleasures most congenial to my mind. None but aerial com-
panions suited my fancy. No roof seemed so secure to me
as that formed of the dense foliage under which the feathered
tribes were seen to resort, or the caves and fissures of the
massy rocks to which the dark-winged Cormorant and the
Curlew retired to rest, or to protect themselves from the fury
of the tempest. My father generally accompanied my steps,
procured birds and flowers for me with great eagerness,—
pointed out the elegant movements of the former, the beauty
and softness of their plumage, the manifestations of their
pleasure or sense of danger,—and the always perfect forms
and splendid attire of the latter. My valued preceptor would
then speak of the departure and return of birds with the
seasons, would describe their haunts, and, more wonderful
than all, their change of livery; thus exciting me to study
them, and to raise my mind towards their great Creator.

A vivid pleasure shone upon those days of my early youth,
attended with a calmness of feeling, that seldom failed to
rivet my attention for hours, whilst I gazed in ecstacy upon
the pearly and shining eggs, as they lay imbedded in the
softest down, or among dried leaves and twigs, or were ex-
posed upon the burning sand or weather-beaten rock of our
Atlantic shores. I was taught to look upon them as flowers
yet in the bud. I watched their opening, to see how Nature
had provided each different species with eyes, either open at
birth, or closed for some time after ; to trace the slow progress
vf the. young birds toward perfection, or admire the celerity

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 99

with which some of them, while yet unfledged, removed them-
selves from danger to security.

I grew up, and my wishes grew with my form. Those
wishes, kind reader, were for the entire possession of all that I
saw. I was fervently desirous of becoming acquainted with
Nature. For many years, however, I was sadly disappointed,
and forever, doubtless, must I have desires that can ot be
gratified. The moment a bird was dead, however beautiful
it had been when in life, the pleasure arising from tho pos-
session of it became blunted; and although the greatest cares
were bestowed in endeavors to preserve the appearance of
nature, I looked upon its vesture as more than sullied, as
requiring constant attention and repeated mendings, while,
after all, it could no longer be said to be fresh from the
hands of its Maker.’ I wished to possess all the productions
of nature, but I wished life with them. This was impos: ble.
Then what was to be done? I turned to my father, and
made known to him my disappointment and anxiety. He
produced a book of Jilustrations. A new life ran in my
veins. I turned over the leaves with avidity; and although
what I saw was not what I longed for, it gave me a desire to
copy Nature. To Nature I went, and tried to imitate her,
as in the days of my childhood I had tried to raise myself
from the ground and stand erect, before Nature had imparted
the vigor necessary for the success of such an undertaking.

How sorely disappointed did I feel for many years, when
I saw that my productions were worse than those which 1
ventured (perhaps in silence) to regard as bad, in the book
given me by my father! My pencil gave birth to a family
of cripples. So maimed were most of them, that they re-
sembled the mangled corpses on a field of battle, compared
with the integrity of living men. These difficulties and dis-
appointments irritated me, but never for a moment destroyed
the desire of obtaining perfect representations of nature.—-
The worse my drawings were, the more beautiful did I see the

100 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

originals. To have been torn from the study would have
been as death to me. My time was entirely occupied with
it. I produced hundreds of these rude sketches annually;
and for a long time, at my request, they made bonfires on
the anniversaries of my birth-day.

Patiently, and with industry, did I apply myself to study,
for, although I felt the impossibility of giving life to my pro-
ductions, I did not abandon the idea of representing nature.
Many plans were successively adopted, many masters guided
my hand. At the age of seventeen, when I returned from
France, whither I had gone to receive the rudiments of my
education, my drawings had assumed a form. Davin had
guided my hand in tracing objects of large size. Eyes and
noses belonging to giants, and heads of horses represented in
ancient sculpture, were my models. These, although fit sub-
jects for men intent on pursuing the higher branches of the
art, were immediately laid aside by me. I returned to the
woods of the New World with fresh ardor, and commenced a
collection of drawings, which I henceforth continued, and
which is now publishing under the title of “Tun Brrps oF
AMERICA.”

In Pennsylvania, a beautiful State, almost central on the
line of our Atlantic shores, my father, in his desire of proving
my friend through life, gave me what Americans call a beau-
tiful ‘plantation,’ refreshed during the summer heats by the
waters of the Schuylkill river, and traversed by a creek
named Perkioming. Its fine woodlands, its extensive fields,
its hills crowned with evergreens, offered many subj cts to
my pencil. It was there that I commenced my simple and
agreeable studies, with as little concern about the future as
if the world. had been made for me. My rambles inve ‘ably
commenced at break of day; and to return wet with dew, and
bearing a feathered prize, was, and ever will be, the highest
enjoyment for which I have been fitted.

Yet, think not, reader, that the enthusiasm which I felt for

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST, 101

my favorite pursuits was a barrier opposed to the adnftsion
of gentler sentiments. Nature, which had turned my young
mind toward the bird and the flower, soon proved her influ-
ence upon my heart. Be it enough to say, that the object
‘of my passion has long since blessed me with the name of
husband. And now let us return, for who cares to listen te
the love-tale of a naturalist, whose feelings may be supposed
to be as light as the feathers which he delineates !

For a period of nearly twenty years, my life was a succes-
sion of vicissitudes. I tried various branches of commerce,
but they all proved unprofitable, doubtless because my whole
mind was ever filled with my passion for rambling and ad-
miring those objects of nature from which alone I received
the purest gratification. I had to struggle against the will
of all who at that period called themselves my friends. I
must here, however, except my wife and children. The re-
marks of my other friends irritated me beyond endurance,
and, breaking through all bonds, I gave myself entirely up
to my pursuits. Any one acquainted with the extraordinary
desire which I then felt of seeing and judging for myself,
would doubtless have pronounced me callous to every sense
of duty, and regardless of every interest. I undertook long
and tedious journeys, ransacked the woods, the lakes, the
prairies, and the shores of the Atlantic. Years were spent
away from my family. Yet, reader, will you believe it, I
had no other object in view, than simply to enjoy the sight
of nature. Never for a moment did I conceive the hope of
becoming in any degree useful to my kind, until I accidentally
formed acquaintance with the PRINcE or MusieNnano, at Phi-
ladelphia, to which place I went, with the view of procecding
eastward along the coast.

(oe * # *

In April, 1824, he sought for patronage in Philadelphia,
and failing there, went to New York, with some better suc-
cess; but weary and depressed, on the whole, he returned tu

102 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

natul@ for refreshing, and, ascending that noble stream, the
Hudson, glided over our broad lakes, to seek the wildest soli-
tudes of the pathless and gloomy forests.

It was in these forests that, for the first time, I communed
with myself as to the possible event of my visiting Europe
again; and I began to fancy my work under the multiplying
efforts of the graver. Happy days, and nights of pleasing
dreams! I read over the catalogue of my collection, and
thought how it might be possible for an unconnected and un-
aided individual like myself to accomplish the grand scheme.

Eighteen months elapsed. I returned to my family, then
in Louisiana, explored every portion of the vast woods around,
and at last sailed towards the Old World. But before we
visit the shores of hospitable England, I have the wish, good-
natured reader, to give you some idea of my mode of executing
the original drawings, from which the illustrations have been
taken; and I sincerely hope that the perusal of these lines
may excite in you a desire minutely to examine them.

Merely to say that each object of my illustrations is of the
size of nature, were too vague—for to many it might only
convey the idea that they are so, more or less, according as
the eye of the delineator may have been more or less correct
in measurement simply obtained through that medium; and
of avoiding error in this respect I am particularly desirous.
Not only is every object, as a whole, of the natural size, but
also every portion of each object. The compass aided me in
its delineation, regulated and corrected each part, even to the
very fore-shortening which now and then may be seen in the
figures. The Dill, the feet, the legs, the claws, the very
feathers as they project one beyond another, have been accu-
rately measured. The birds, almost all of them, were killed
by myself, after I had examined their motions and habits, as
much as the case admitted, and were regularly drawn on or
near the spot where I procured them. The positions may,
perhaps, in some instances appear outre ; but such supposed

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 103

exaggerations can afford subject of criticism only to persons
unacquainted with the feathered tribes; for, believe me, no-
thing can be more transient or varied than the attitudes or
positions of birds. The Heron, when warming itself in the
sun, will sometimes drop its wings several inches, as if they
were dislocated; the Swan may often be seen floating with
one foot extended from the body; and some pigeons, you
well know, turn quite over, when playing in the air. The
flowers, plants, or portions of trees which are attached to the
principal objects, have been chosen from amongst those in the
vicinity of which the birds were found, and are not, as some
persons have thought, the trees or plants upon which they
always feed or perch.

An accident which happened to two hundred of my original
drawings, nearly put a stop to my researches in ornithology.
I shall relate it, merely to show you how far enthusiasm—for
by no other name can I call the persevering zeal with which
I labored—may enable the observer of nature to surmount
the most disheartening obstacles. I left the village of Hen-
derson, in Kentucky, situated on the bank of the Ohio, where
I resided for several years, to proceed to Philadelphia on
business. I looked to all my drawings before my departure,
placed them carefully in a wooden box, and gave them in
charge to a relative, with injunctions to see that no injury
should happen to them. My absence was of several months ;
and when I returned, after having enjoyed the pleasures of
home for a few days, I inquired after my box, and what I
was pleased to call my treasure. The box was produced, and
opened ;—but, reader, feel for me—a pair of Norway rats
had taken possession of the whole, and had reared a young
family amongst the gnawed bits of paper, which, but a few
months before, represented nearly a thousand inhabitants of
the air !

The burning heat which instantly rushed through my brain
was too great to be endured, without affecting the whole of

104 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

my nervous system. I slept not for several nights, and the
days passed like days of oblivion,—until, the animal powers
being recalled into action, through the strength of my consti-
tution, I took up my gun, my note-book and my pencils, and
went forth to the wocds as gaily as if nothing had happened.
I felt pleased that I might now make much better drawings
than before, and, ere a period not exceeding three years had
elapsed, I had my portfolio filled again.

America being my country, and the principal pleasures of
my life having been obtained there, I prepared to leave it
with deep sorrow, after in vain trying to publish my illustra-
tions in the United States. In Philadelphia, Wilson’s prin-
cipal engraver, amongst others, gave it as his opinion to my
friends, that my drawings could never be engraved. In New
York, other difficulties presented themselves, which deter-
mined me to carry my collections to Europe.

As I approached the coast of England, and for the first
time beheld her fertile shores, the despondency of my spirits
became very great. I knew not an individual in the country;
and, although I was the bearer of letters from American
friends and statesmen of great eminence, my situation ap-
peared precarious in the extreme. I imagined that every
individual whom I was about to meet, might be possessed of
talents superior to those of any on our side of the Atlantic!
Indeed, as I for the first time walked on the streets of Liver-
pool, my heart nearly failed me, for not a glance of sympathy
did I meet in my wanderings, for two days To the woods I
sould not betake myself, for there were none near.

Well received in England, he passes through to Scotland.

Gallant and beautiful spirit! there was no need of woods
for thee to hide! The noble work of Wilson had not long
been finished then, and men were not done wondering at this
glorious achievement of the Paisely weaver, who had left their
own shores years ago, a poor and obscure adventurer for the
forests of the New World, when another pilgrim from those

AUDUBON——-THE HUNTER-NATURALIST.* 104

far wildernesses, made his appearance among the learned
circles of the Scottish Capital. He carried a portfolio under
his arm, and came, too, on an adventure to this seat of the
mind’s royalty and of voluptuous wealth. There was a look
of nature’s children about him. His curled and shining hair,
thrown back from his open front, fell in dark clusters down
his broad shoulders. Those bold features, moulded after

*¢ The high, old Roman fashion” —

those sharp, steady eyes, that straight figure and elastic
tread, were a strange blending of the Red man and the pure-
blooded noble. A curious trader he! But, when his won-'
drous wares were all unfolded and spread out before their
eyes, what a delicious thrilling of amazement and delight
was felt through those fastidious circles! A gorgeous show!
The heart of a virgin world unfolded—teeming with rare and
exquisite thoughts—that had been born in the deep solitudes
of her young musings, and thus caught by this weird en-
chanter’s pencil, as they gleamed past in all the bright hues
and airy graces of their fresh fleeting lives—with flower and
tree, and rock and wave, as beautiful and new as they, thrown
in to make the fairy pageant real! It was a surprising reve-
lation, and when they knew that it had all been the work—
the obscure, unaided work, through years of enduring toil—of
that young wanderer, they were filled with overwhelming admi-
ration. They loaded him with adulation and with honors;
they took him by the hand generously, and led him up to his
success.

Such was the effect of Audubon’s appearance in Edinburgh.
In that glorious portfolio men felt that a great creation lay
folded; in that modest backwoodsman they saw the first of the
Hunter-Naturalists—in the simple grandeur of that presence
they recognized the type of those masterful spirits of the race
of the olden time, the stories of whose deeds are the histories of
ages. They were awed, they loved him—they nourished and

106 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERE.

they cherished him—how could it be otherwise among a culti-
vated people ?—for to such there is in genius a compelling
sense that will bear through its purposes in their love.

But it is not on his triumphal progress through Europe,
that we prefer to accompany him. Nor is it of so much inte-
rest to us to hear that such men as Cuvier and Humboldt—
who alone were his peers—pronounced his work on Birds the
most magnificent monument art had yet erected to ornitho-
logy. The world has long ago taken charge of his fame. It
is of the man, the Hunter-Naturalist, out in the wilderness
highways and byways of the unreclaimed earth that we would
know more intimately. It is rather the methods of the work-
man that we would now see—for it is well enough known that
never, in the annals of individual achievement, did unaided
enthusiasm, through poverty and neglect, accomplish so much
single-handed against such tremendous odds.

The world, by the way, has been told many times of the im-
mense pecuniary difficulties to be overcome by him from the
commencement—but not yet, perhaps, in his own touching
language, have they heard some of the effects of these struggles
upon his temper and feelings. He says in the introduction
to the third volume—

Ten years have now elapsed since the first number of my
Illustrations of the Birds of America made its appearance.
At that period I calculated that the engravers would take
sixteen years in accomplishing their task ; and this I announed
in my prospectus, and talked of to my friends. Of the latter
not a single individual seemed to have the least hope of my
success, and several strongly advised me to abandon my plans,
dispose of my drawings, and return to my country. I listened
with attention to all that was urged on the subject, and often
felt deeply depressed, for I was well aware of many of the
difficulties to be surmounted, and perceived that no small
sum of money would be required to defray the necessary
expenses. Yet never did I seriously think of abandoning the

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 107

cherished object of my hopes. When I delivered the first
drawings to the engraver, I had not a single subscriber.
Those who knew me best called me rash; some wrote to me
that they did not expect to see a second fasciculus ; and others
seemed to anticipate the total failure of my enterprise. But
my heart was nerved, and my reliance on that Power, on
whom all must depend, brought bright anticipations of success.

Having made arrangements for meeting the first difficulties,
I turned my attention to the improvement of my drawings,
and began to collect from the pages of my journals the scat-
tered notes which referred to the habits of the birds repre-
sented by them. I worked early and late, and glad I was to
perceive that the more I labored the more I improved. I
was happy, too, to find, that in general each succeeding plate
was better than its predecessor, and when those who had at
first endeavored to dissuade me from undertaking so vast an
enterprise, complimented me on my more favorable prospects,
I couldenot but feel happy. Number after number appeared
in regular succession, until at the end of four years of anxiety,
my engraver, Mr. Havell, presented me with the First Volume
of the Birds of America.

Convinced, from a careful comparison of the plates, that at
least there had been no falling off in the execution, I looked
forward with confidence to the termination of the next four
years’ labor. Time passed on, and I returned from the
forests and wilds of the western world to congratulate my
friend Havell, just when the last plate of the second volume
was finished.

About that time, a nobleman called upon me with his
family, and requested me to show them some of the original
drawings, which I did with the more pleasure that my visitors
possessed a knowledge of Ornithology. In the course of our
conversation, I was asked how long it might be until the
work should be finished. When I mentioned eight years
more, the nobleman shrugged up his shoulders, and sighing,

108 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

said, “I may not sce it finished, but my children will, and
you may please to add my name to your list of subscribers.”
The young people exhibited a mingled expression of joy and
sorrow, and when I with them strove to dispel the cloud that
seemed to hang over their father’s mind, he smiled, bade me
be sure to see that the whole work should be punctually de-
livered, and took his leave. The solemnity of his manner I
could not forget for several days; I often thought that neither
might I see the work completed, but at length I exclaimed,
“My sons may.” And now that another volume, both of my
Illustrations and of my Biographies is finished, my trust in
Providence is augmented, and I cannot but hope that myself
and my family together may be permitted to see the comple-
tion of my labors.

How that prayer has been answered, the facts since, with
which the world is familiar, have shown. He obtained one
hundred and eighty subscribers to the work at one thousand
dollars each ; and lived not only to complete it, surrounded by
his sons, but, as I have already mentioned, had by their aid
commenced and even completed another great work on the
Quadrupeds of America.

It is not the least extraordinary characteristic of this man’s
unexampled career, that he should, until even late in life,
have been entirely unconscious of the powers he possessed.
Indeed, he repeatedly asserts, that it was not until his meet-
ing with Charles Lucien Bonaparte, on his visit to Philadel-
phia in 1824, that he had any thought, whatever, of pub-
lishing, or dreamed that he had been accomplishing anything
very extraordinary. Bonaparte was astonished,—astounded,
even, in looking over his portfolio of drawings, and exclaimed,
in an irrepressible burst of admiration and wonder at the
simplicity of his unconsciousness,—

“Mr. Audubon, do you know that you are a great man,—
a very great man !—The greatest ornithologist in the world?”

It was this language that first filled him with the thought

AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 109

of publishing, which, as we have seen, on his retirement to
the solitudes of nature, near the sources of the Hudson,
became gradually nourished into a purpose. But let us see
the most touching instance of this unconsciousness in his own
relation of the manner of his first interview with Wilson, the
Ornithologist. He lived for two years in Louisville, Ken-
tucky, which was then a comparatively small town. He was
engaged in business as a merchant or trader, yet never-
theless says :—

During my residence at Louisville, much of my time was
employed in my ever favorite pursuits. I drew and noted
the habits of everything which I procured, and my collection
was daily augmenting, as every individual who carried a gun,
always sent me such birds or quadrupeds as he thought might
prove useful to me. My portfolios already contained upwards
of two hundred drawings.

One fair morning, I was surprised by the sudden éntrance
into our counting-room of Mr. Alexander Wilson, the cele-
brated author of the “American Ornithology,” of whose
existence I had never until that moment been apprised.
This happened in March, 1810. How well do I remember
him, as he then walked up to me! His long, rather hooked
nose, the keenness of his eyes, and his prominent cheek-bones,
stamped his countenance with a peculiar character. His
dress, too, was of a kind not usually seen in that part of the
country ; a short coat, trowsers, and a waistcoat of grey cloth.
His stature was not above the middle size. He had two
volumes under his arm, and as he approached the table at
which I was working, I thought I discovered something like
astonishment in his countenance. He, however, immediately
proceeded to disclose the object of his visit, which was tu
procure subscriptions for his work. He opened his books,
explained the nature of his occupations, and requested my
patronage.

I felt surprised and gratified at the sight of his volumes,

110 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

turned over a few of the plates, and had already taken a pen
to write my name in his favor, when my partner.rather ab-
ruptly said to me in French, “My dear Audubon, what
induces you to subscribe to this work? Your drawings are
certainly far better, and again you must know as much of
the habits of American birds as this gentleman.” Whether
Mr. Wilson understood French or not, or if the suddenness
with which I paused, disappointed him, I cannot tell; but I
clearly perceived that he was not pleased. Vanity and the
encomiums of my friend prevented me from subscribing. Mr.
Wilson asked me if I had many drawings of birds. I rose,
took down a large portfolio, laid it on the table, and showed
him, as I would show you, kind reader, or any other person fond
of such subjects, the whole of the contents, with the same
patience with which he had shown me his own engravings.

His surprise appeared great, as he told me he never had
the most distant idea that any other individual than himself
had been engaged in forming such a collection. He asked
me if it was my intention to publish, and when I answered in
the negative, his surprise seemed to increase. And, truly,
such was not my intention; for, until long after, when I met
the Prince of Musignano in Philadelphia, I had not the least
idea of presenting the fruits of my labors to the world. Mr.
Wilson now examined my drawings with care, asked if I
should have any objections to lending him a few during his
stay, to which I replied that I had none: he then bade me
good morning, not, however, until I had made an arrange-
ment to explore the woods in the vicinity along with him, and
had promised to procure for him some birds, of which I had
drawings in my collection, but which he had never seen.

It happened that he lodged in the same house with us, but
his retired habits, I thought, exhibited either a strong feeling
of discontent, or a decided melancholy. The Scotch airs
which he played sweetly on his flute made me melancholy
soo, and I felt for him. I presented him to my wife and

i
AUDUBON—THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. 111

friends, and seeing that he was all enthusiasm, exerted my-
self as much as was in my power, to procure for him the
specimens which he wanted. We hunted together, and ob-
tained birds which he had never before seen; but, reader, I
did not subscribe to his work, for, even at that time, my col-
lection was greater than his. Thinking that perhaps he
might be pleased to publish the results of my researches, I
offered them to him, merely on condition that what I had
drawn, or might afterwards draw and send to him, should be
mentioned in his work, as coming from my pencil. I at the
same time offered to open a correspondence with him, which
I thought might prove beneficial to us both. He made no
reply to either proposal, and before many days had elapsed,
left Louisville, on his way to New Orleans, little knowing
how much his talents were appreciated in our little town, at
least by myseif and my friends.

Some time elapsed, during which I never heard of him, or of
his work. At length, having occasion to go to Philadelphia,
I, immediately after my arrival there, inquired for him, and
paid him a visit. He was then drawing a White-headed
Eagle. He received me with civility, and took me to the Ex-
hibition Rooms of Rembrandt Peale, the artist, who had
then portrayed Napoleon crossing the Alps. Mr. Wilson
spoke not of birds or drawings. Feeling, as I was forced to
do, that my company was not agreeable, I parted from him ;
and after that I never saw him again. But judge of my
astonishment some time after, when on reading the thirty-
ninth page of the ninth volume of American Ornithology, I
found in it the following paragraph :—

“ March 23d, 1810.—I bade adieu to Louisville, to which
place I had four letters of recommendation, and was taught
to expect much of everything there; but neither received one
act of civility from those to whom I was recommended, one
subscriber, nor one new bird; though I delivered my letters,
ransacked the woods repeatedly, and visited all the characters

112 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

likely to subscribe. Science or literature has not one friend
in this place.”

We will not add to the gloom which has followed the illus-
trious life of poor Wilson to his grave, by any officious com-
ments upon the tenor of this short narrative. I will add,
though, that it should be remembered, in forming any judg-
ment of that strong, moody man, that he had bitter woes
enough to contend with, not only in his friendless early
days, but in the harsh isolation of his weary wanderings and
unappreciated after-life, to have grown a gall beneath an
angel’s wing. Withal, the bursts of sunshine and exultation
which shone through his eloquent writings often, show that
his inner self had fed healthfully sometimes upon the pure
and peaceful teachings of his gentle pursuits. He wag a man
whose profound genius, darkened by misfortune, was som-
brely illuminated by a noble enthusiasm. He, too, may be
accepted as a Hunter-Naturalist, but not as first among
them all! To J. J. Audubon, undoubtedly, that high place
belongs, though this has been disputed by many, and ever
Christopher North has been found to assert them as “ equals.’

This cannot be admitted here. Then how stands the
case ?

When the noble work of Wilson, the unknown Scotchman,
began to make its appearance, Ornithology among us was in
its infancy, and the freshness of his hardy original genius was
promptly recognized and keenly relished abroad, in contrast
with the stale, unprofitable treatment of the predominant
school of the Technicalists.

It was at once perceived how much the attractiveness of
his subject was heightened by the circumstances of his per-
sonal intimacy and association with the creatures described in
many of the conditions of natural freedom.

His fine descriptions had a savor of the wilderness about
them. His birds were living things, and Jed out the heart in
yearning through the scenes of a primeval earth to recognize

AUDUBON AND WILSON. 113

them in their own wild homes, singing to the solitude from
some chosen spray, or plying, with careless grace, on busy
wings, their curious sports and labors.

Here is the legitimate purpose of works of this character—
to fill the mind with such pleasant images as will win the
affections forth from the dull centre of mere human sympa-
thies, through all the wonders of the outer world, up, with a
wise and chastened adoration, to the Power that framed it.
Wilson, to a greater degree than any man who had yet
appeared, felt himself, and caused others to recognize, this
apostleship of the true Naturalist.

It was an era, a happy era in philosophy, when art had
linked its remoter teachings to the hearts of men; and to
Wilson undoubtedly belongs the glory of having fairly pio-
neered its ushering. It is impossible to regard the labors of
this man, even in a purely scientific light, without astonish-
ment; but when we come to take into consideration all the
pitiable afflictions and degrading misery entailed upon him by
“caste,” in his own country, we are lost in affectionate admi-
ration of his indomitable genius, as we see the shrunk veins
of the haggard emigrant swelling, when he has touched our
shore, with a new life hardy enough to cope with the rude
elements by which he found himself surrounded, and carry
through triumphantly his remarkable undertaking.

Spirits with the vigor in them his possessed, ask only the
vital air of freedom. Difficulties then are nothing. It is no
wonder, when those trophies which he had wrestled for alone
with Nature here in her bare and unhoused wilds, and had won
through trials and poverty, unassisted, had been returned to
Scotland, that country which drove him forth in rags, and it
had been offered a share of his glory for its gold, that it should
have poured out freely the dross upon him in very shame. Nor
is it surprising, that in the eager reaction of its penitence, it
shou!d continue to exalt him too highly—claiming for him, to
the detriment of others, more Same his just dues.

114 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

v

We think it very natural, that glorious old “ Christopher,’
puzzled between the heartfelt and generous recognition, he
hardly conceals, of the out-of-sight supremacy of Audubon,
and some compunctious qualms of a yet farther expiation due
to the shade of the neglected Wilson, should have split the
difference, by making them “brothers.”

Well, and brothers they are, by all those sacred bonds
which link the tall fraternity of genius—brothers they are in
all the higher virtues of manhood—brothers they are in the
yet more intimate sense, that the same objects and the same
field have been labored upon by each; but, that they are
equals in the sense of Christopher’s “same stature,” we alto-
gether deny.

_ We should as well talk of elevating the knotted front of
Gifford, of murderous Jeffery, or the sleek scalp of a modern
Reviewer into that rare altitude—till “the crowns of their
heads touch” —from which the broad brow of “ Maga throned”
smiles serenely down upon her empire.

’ They are not equal! By the same sign that Christopher,
like another “bald” and “full-winged bird,” yet holds the
empyrean alone,—Audubon, though “last, shall be first.”

First—in that, though Wilson displayed the noblest ele-
ments of greatness in the staunch, unconquerable vigor with
which he met the difficulties in his path—Audubon exhibited
quite as much “game,” and in the proportionable grandeur
of his scheme, had full as many trials to surmount.

First—in that, while the biographies of Wilson were full
of natural spirit, of grace and power, greatly beyond all his
predecessors, yet those of Audubon are far more minute and
carefully detailed—introducing us, one after another, to a more
intimate fellowship with each individual of the wide family
of his love, through every piquant and distinctive trait of
gesture, air, and movement, characterizing all the phases of
their nature—without the faults of generalization, and too
much credence in hear-say, or a gloomy and unphilosophie

AUDUBON AND WILSON. 115

Spirit—since the mild and loving geniality of childhood breathes
through every line.

First, moreover, by the reason that, while the drawings of
Wilson are advanced upon all that had yet been accomplished,
are free and accurate in outline, and sometimes even elegant
in finish, yet those of Audubon are superior to them beyond
all measure of comparison.

And here is the clear ground of distinction on which the
more powerful genius steps forth in the proper garb of its
own striking and unmistakeable individuality, and appeals to
the eye at once for a recognition of its creations, as alone
original and apart from all others. Audubon’s drawings are
quite as singular and unapproached as any one of the phe-
nomena of art by which we mark the ages.

Wilson’s pencil has been content with a mere portraiture,
correct, indeed, of proportion, and a color barely suggestive ;
but the pencil of the necromancer has not only caught the
play of sunlight, shivered gorgeous in metallic hues from each
particular fibre of their plumes, (in a word, created the true
style of coloring,) but has stilled these arrowy cleavers of the
elements amidst their own clouds, upon the very waves on
which they loved “‘to sit and swing,” by “the beached
verge,” on the precipitous perch, or twig and leaf and berry
of the boughs that were their homes—stilled them, too, in all
the character of passionate life—their loves, battles, chases,
gambols, thefts—the grotesquery and grace, every mode and
mood of their being amidst their native scenes.

Each plate is a full-length family portrait, with all the
accessories historical. They are perfect in themselves, and
tell the whole story more clearly than words could do. Taken
apart, they are chapters in the “Illuminated Bible” of nature
—and very pleasant is the creed they teach, full of merry
thoughts that make the heart go lightly; and plumy shapes,
of strange, undreamed-of beauty, come and go through the
etill air of musings, till we grow devout with thinking how

116 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

God has made the roughest places of our earth so populous
with lovely things that can surprise us into joy.

But without rhapsodizing. Wilson’s claim to originality,
in having first conceived the magnificent design of illustrating
the Birds of America, and led the van of Practical Science in
its relations to Ornithology, is certainly a most imposing eno,
and one with which no after exertions of mere talent, however
tireless, devoted, and successful it might be, could by any
possibility compete. But genius can do what talent cannot.
It is above all rules and “saws,” and scorns the measure of
an aphorism.

“« When the power falls into the mighty hands
Of Nature—the spirit, giant-born,
Who listens only to himself ——”

such things are effected, as an age of the leaden attainments
of studied acquisition cannot accomplish.

Audubon, in the unique and striking originality of his
drawings, and the whole treatment of his themes, has so far
outstripped, in a bold freedom of design and execution, any
thing of Wilson’s which may be denominated suggestive even,
as to leave scarcely any room for comparison in this last
issue. If Wilson was original, our Ornithologist is infinitely
more so.

Wilson has all the advantages in such a contrast. “He
was first in the field,” and with the world—that said, all is
said. Whatever has been done since must be footed on to
his account with fame, at least to the point of careful balance
with that of any one who has chanced to come after him.
This is not strictly just.

We admit cheerfully all that is righteously due to the
Paisley adventurer. But we cannot perceive why—when the
fact that he is not entitled to it, is clear as a sunburst to any
observer—he should be thrust, rather than elevated into an
equal rank with Audubon. It has been too much the way of

AUDUBON AND WILBON. 117

the world to ease its conscience of prosent injustice and
neglect of genius, by an internal reservation, that it will pile
up posthumous honors mountain high.

Now it is surely to be apprehended that this genius, though
“of so airy and light a quality,” has yet something to seek
“of the earth, earthy,” in common with the rest of men—
and that, therefore, the recognizing, with its own proper eyes,
the just claims of an original mind, by the country to which
it has added lustre, cannot be to ‘it a matter of indifference.
Audubon has nothing of glory to ask of us. But this his
memory demands, that we, his countrymen, should guard his
honors from even the shadow of infringement. We drove him
to the embrace of a foreign land for patronage—but there,
amidst all the pomp of courts and the intoxication of sudden
success, he was still proudly the American Woodsman; no-
thing could damp that noble pride, and through every page
he has written, we can still see it looking out with the same
calm, abiding affection. We should not, then, be the last to
vindicate such valorous faith. The man of his age, the illus-
trious Frenchman, has led the way in defining his supremacy,
and yet the American mind, since Professor Wilson pro-
nounced his autocratic fiat, that they “were equals,” has
been timid to say in plain words—No! our Audubon is regally
the head and front of Illustrative Science; the dictum of
Christopher to the contrary notwithstanding, he is in this
the Ornithologist of the world, and the favorite Wilson must
be content to stand below him.

But hear this same cannie Scot, Christopher North, dis
eourse of Audubon en dishabille, with the straight-jacket of
nationality thrown aside, and verily in his dressing gown and
slippers, when it is man to man that speaks as the heart
meoveth, not Scot to Scot! Thus, in the Moctes he discourseth,
sotto voce.

We were sitting one night, lately, all alone by ourselves,
almost unconsciously eyeing the members, fire without flame,

118 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

in the many-visioned grate, but at times aware of the symbols
and emblems there beautifully built up, of the ongoings of
human life, when a knocking, not loud but resolute, came
to the front door, followed by the rustling thrill of the bell-
wire, and then by a tinkling far below, too gentle to waken
the house, that continued to enjoy the undisturbed dream of its
repose. At first we supposed it might be but some late-home-
going knight-errant from a feast of shells, in a mood “between
malice and true-love,” seeking to disquiet the slumbers of Old
Christopher, in expectation of seeing his night-cap (which he
never wears) popped out of the window, and hearing his voice
(of which he is chary in the open air) simulating a scold
upon the audacious sleep-breaker. So we benevolently laid
back our head on our easy-chair, and pursued our speculations
on the state of affairs in general—and more particularly on
the floundering fall of that inexplicable people—the Whigs.
We had been wondering, and of our wondering found no end,
what could have been their chief reasons for committing sui-
cide. It appeared a case of very singular felo-de-se—for
they had so timed the “rash act,” as to excite strong suspi-
cions in the public mind that his Majesty had committed
murder. Circumstances, however, had soon come to light,
that proved to demonstration, that the wretched Ministry had
laid violent hands on itself, and effected its purpose by
strangulation. There—was the fatal black ring visible round
the neck—though a mere thread; there—were the blood-
shot eyes protruding from the sockets; there—the lip-biting
teeth clenched in the last convulsions; and there—sorriest
sight of all—was the ghastly suicidal smile, last relic of the
laughter of despair. But the knocking would not leave the
door—and listening to its character, we were assured that it
came from the fist of a friend, who saw light through the
chinks of the shutter, and knew, moreover, that we never put
on the shroud of death’s pleasant brother, sleep, till “ae wee
short hour ayont the twal,” and often not till earliest cock-

AUDUBON AND WILSON. 119

crow, which chanticleer utters somewhat drowsily, and then
replaces his head beneath his wing, supported on one side by
a partlet, on the other by a hen. So we gathered up our
slippered feet from the rug, lamp in hand stalked along the
lobbies, unchained and unlocked the oak which our faithful
night porter Somnus had sported—and lo! a figure muffled
up in a cloak, and furred like a Russ, who advanced familiarly
into the hall, extended both hands, and then embracing us,
bade God bless us, and pronounced, with somewhat of a
foreign accent, the name in which we and the world rejoice—
“Christopher North!’ We were not slow in returning the
hug fraternal—for who was it but the ‘“ American Woods-
man ?”—even Audubon himself—fresh from the Floridas—
and breathing of the pure air of far-off Labrador!

Three years and upwards had fled since we had taken fare-
well of the illustrious Ornithologist—on the same spot—at
the -same hour; and there was something ghostlike in such
return of a dear friend from a distant region—almost as if
from the land of spirits. It seemed as if the same moon
again looked at us—but then she was wan and somewhat
sad—now clear as a diamond, and all the starry heavens
wore a smile. ‘Our words they were no mony feck”—but
in less time than we have taken to write it—we two were
sitting cheek by jowl, and hand in hand, by that essential
fire—while we showed by our looks that we both felt, now
they were over, that three years were but as one day! The
cane coal-scuttle, instinct with spirit, beeted the fire of its
own accord, without word or beck of ours, as if placed there
by the hands of one of our wakeful Lares; in globe of purest
crystal the Glenlivet shone; unasked the bright brass kettle
began to whisper its sweet “under song;” and a centenary
of the fairest oysters native to our isle turned towards us
their languishing eyes, unseen the Nereid that had on the
instant wafted them from the procreant cradle beds of Pres-
tonpans. Grace said, we drew in to supper, and hobnobbing,

120 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

from elegant long-shank, down each naturalist’s gullets gra-
ciously descended, with a gurgle, the mildest, the meckest,
the very Moses of Ales.

Audubon, ere half an hour had elapsed, found an oppor-
tunity of telling us that he had never seen us in a higher state
of preservation—and in a low voice whispered something about
the eagle renewing his youth. We acknowledged the kind-
ness by a remark on bold bright birds of passage that find the
seasons obedient to their will, and wing their way through
worlds still rejoicing in the perfect year. But too true
friends were we not to be sincere in all we seriously said; and
while Audubon confessed that he saw rather more plainly
than when we parted the crowfeet in the corners of our eyes,
we did not deny that we saw in him an image of the Falco
Leucocephalus, for that, looking on his “carum caput,” it
answered his own description of that handsome and powerful
bird, viz: “the general color of the plumage above is dull
hair-brown, the lower, parts being deeply brown, broadly
margined with greyish white.” ' But here he corrected us;
for “Surely my dear friend,” quoth he, “you must admit I
am a living specimen of the Adult Bird, and you remember
my description of him in my First Volume.” And thus
blending our gravities and our gayeties, we sat facing one
another, each with his last oyster on the prong of his trident,
which disappeared, like all mortal joys, between a smile and
a sigh.

How similar—in much—our dispositions—yet in almost all
how dissimilar our lives! Since last we parted, “we scarcely
heard of half a mile from home’’—he tanned by the suns and
beaten by the storms of many latitudes—we like a ship laid
up in ordinary, or anchored close in shore within the same
sheltering bay—with sails unfurled and flags flying but for
sake of show on some holiday—he like a ship that every
morning has been dashing through a new world of waves—
often close-reefed or under bare poles—but oftener affronting

AUDUBON AND WILSON. 121

the heavens with a whiter and swifter cloud than any hoisted

. by the combined fleets in the sky. And now, with canvas

unrent, and masts unsprung, returned to the very buoy she
left. Somewhat faded, indeed, in her apparelling—but her
hull sound as ever—nor a speck of dry rot in her timbers—
her keel unscathed by rock—her cut-water yet sharp as new-
whetted scythe ere the mower renews his toil—her figure-
head, that had so often looked out for squalls, now “natient
as the brooding dove’—and her bowsprit—but let ~s man
the main-brace; nor is there purer spirit—my trusty frére—
in the Old World or the New.

It was quite a Noctes. Audubon told us—by snatches—
all his travels, history, with many an anecdote interspersed
of the @wellers among the woods—bird, beast and man.

All this and more he told us, with a cheerful voice and
animated eyes, while the dusky hours were noiselessly wheel-
ing the chariot of Night along the star-losing sky; and we
too had something to tell him of our own home-loving obscu-
rity, not ungladdened by studies sweet in the Forest—till
Dawn yoked her dappled coursers for one single slow stage
—and then jocund Morn leaping up on the box, took the
ribbons in her rosy fingers, and, after a dram of dew, blew
her bugle, and drove like blazes right on towards the gates
of Day.

His great work, says Professor Wilson, elsewhere, was indeed
a perilous undertaking for a stranger in Britain, without the
patronage of powerful friends, and with no very great means
of his own—all of which he embarked in the enterprise dearest
to his heart. Had it failed, Audubon would have been a
ruined man—and that fear must have sometimes dismally
disturbed him, for he is not alone in life, and is a man of
strong family affections. But happily those nearest his
breast are as enthusiastic in the love of natural science as
himself—and were all willing to sink or swim with the be
loved husband and venerated father. America may well be

122 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

proud of him—and he gratefully records the kindness he has
experienced from so many of her most distinguished sons.
In his own fame he was just and generous to all who excel in
the same studies; not a particle of jealousy is in his compo-
sition; a sin, that, alas! seems too easily to beset too many
of the most gifted spirits in literature and scienee, nor is the
happiest genius—imaginative or intellectual—such is the
frailty of poor human nature at the best—safe from the access
of that dishonoring passion. '

Just and generously said, most loyal Christopher! may
thy giant shadow never be less!

ALEXANDER WILSON.

CHAPTER VI.
AUDUBON AND BOONE.

I rurn from Audubon and his triumphs amid courtly scenes
of the Old World, surrounded by the princely and the learned,
to the Hunter-Naturalist at his labors in the wilderness of the
New—the associate of the rugged Boone, and many another
skin-dressed peer.

We may gather from his generous exhortation to younger
naturalists to take the field, interesting features of what may
be supposed to have been his own method of conducting his
investigations when abroad with nature. Something of the
sort of training by which his remarkable character was formed,
and the modes and circumstances under which his works grew.
After saying that the list of new species had been nearly
doubled sine the time of Alexander Wilson’s work, and that
he felt confident very many species remain to be added by
future observers, who shall travel the vast wastes extending
northward and westward from the Canadas, and along the
western slopes of the Rocky Mountains, from Nootka to Cali-
fornia; indeed, that he looks upon the whole range of those
magnificent mountains as being yet unexplored—he addresses
the young enthusiast :—

Therefore, I would strongly advise you to make up your
mird, shoulder your gun, muster all your spirits, and start in
search of the interesting unknown, of which I greatly regret
I can no more go in pursuit—not for want of will, but of
the vigor and elasticity necessary for so arduous an enter-
prise. Should you agree to undertake the task, and prove
fortunate enough to return full of knowledge, laden with

128

124 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

objects new and rare, be pleased when you publish your work,
to place my name in the list of subscribers, and be assured
that I will not leave you in the lurch.

Now supposing that you are full of ardor and ready to
proceed ; allow me to offer you a little advice. Leave nothing
to memory, but note down all your observations with ink, not
with a black-lead pencil, and keep in mind, that the more par-
ticulars you write at the time, the more you will recollect
afterwards. Work not at night, but anticipate the morning
dawn, and never think, for an instant, about the difficulties
of ransacking the woods, the shores, or the barren grounds,
nor be vexed when you have traversed a few hundred miles
of country without finding a single new species. It may,
indeed, it not unfrequently happens, that after days, or even
weeks of fruitless search, one enters a grove, or comes upon
a pond, or forces his way through the tall grass of a prairie,
and suddenly meets with several objects, all new,-all beautiful,
and perhaps all suited to the palate. Then how delightful
will be your feelings, and how marvelously all fatigue will
vanish.

Think, for instance, that you are on one of the declivities
of the Rocky Mountains, with shaggy and abrupt banks on
each side of you, while the naked cliffs tower high over head,
as if with the wish to reach the sky. Your trusty gun has
brought to the ground a most splendid ‘American Pheasant,’
weighing fully two pounds! What a treat! You have been
surprised at the length of its tail ; you have taken the precise
measurement of all its parts, and given a brief description of
it. Have you read this twice and corrected errors and defi-
ciencies? ‘Yes,’ you say. Very well; now you have begun
your drawing of this precious bird. Ah! you have finished
it. Now then, -you skin the beautiful creature, and you are
pleased to find it plump and fat. You have, I find, studied
comparative anatomy under my friend, Maouiliivray, and at
least, have finished your examination of the cesophagus, giz-

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 125

zard, cocca, trache, and bronchi. On the ignited clay cast-
ings of a buffalo you have laid the body, and it is now almost
ready to satisfy the longing of your stomach, as it hisses in
its oderous sap. The brook at your feet affords the very best
drink that nature can supply, and I need not wish you better
fare than that before you.

Next morning you find yourself refreshed and reinvigor-
ated, more ardent than ever, for success fails not to excite the
desire of those who have entered upon the study of nature.
You have packed your bird’s skin flat in your box, rolled up
your drawing round those previously made, and now, day
after day, you push through thick and thin, sometimes with
success, and sometimes without; but you at last return with
such a load on your shoulders as I have often carried on
mine. Having once more reached the settlements, you relieve
your tired limbs by mounting a horse, and at length gaining
a city, find means of publishing the results of your journey.

It requires very little exertion of fancy to see in this a
felicitous sketch of his own mode of “ransacking the woods,
the shores, and the barren grounds.”

It is just such hardy methods wherein consist the immea-
surable superiority of Mr. Audubon over the whole school of
stuffed-specimen delineators, whose indigestible crudities and
wretched figures have proven the very night-mare of Natural
Science in the Old World.

The idea of mounting knapsack and gun,’and trudging
thousands of miles through brake and morass, over “sands,
shores, and desert wildernesses,” encountering and braving
the “imminence” of many perils, exposed to all “the spite
of wreakful elements,”’ purely for love of nature, and scientifie
accuracy, would have set one of these philosophical amateurs
to shuddering. ‘To bespatter black coat and silken hose, get
half starved, and catch a death cold in “ collecting materials,”
were simply preposterous—when the Zoological gardens are
elose at hand, and the museums are filled with specimens.

126 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

To be sure they have been dead a few years, and owe their
present forms very much to the taste of the ignorant trades-
man who “wired” and stuffed them—but the colors are there;
they do not fade—that is, not much—and by a slight exertion
of fancy it will be easy enough to make them “sister nature’s
own shape” of birds again, so that shortly a magnificent five
vol. illustrated work makes its appearance.

Contrast all such farrago with the language of a man who
knew what he was doing. It was during those weary wan-
derings in which Audubon coursed back and forth “the
scasons from equator to the pole,” that in the far south he
met with the “ Carracaras Eagle,” then a new bird to him.
He says—

l was not aware of the existence of the Caracara or Bra-
zilian Eagle in the United States, until my visit to the
Floridas, in the winter of 1831. On the 24th of November
of that year, in the course of an excursion near the town of
St. Augustine, I observed a bird flying at a great elevation,
and almost over my head. Convinced that it was unknown
to me, and bent on obtaining it, I followed it nearly a mile,
when I saw it sail towards the earth, making for a place
where a group of Vultures ware engaged in devouring a dead
horse. Walking up to the horse, I observed the new bird
alighted on it, and helping itself freely to the savory meat
beneath its feet ; but it evinced a degree of shyness far greater
than that of its associates, the Turkey Buzzards and Carrion
Crows. J moved circuitously, until I came to a deep ditch,
along which I crawled, and went as near to the bird as I pos-
sibly could; but finding the distance much too great for a
sure shot, I got up suddenly, when the whole of the birds
took to flight. The eagle, as if desirous of forming acquaint-
ance with me, took a round and passed over me. I shot, but
to my great mortification missed it. However, it alighted a
few hundred yards off, in an open savanna, on which I laid
myself flat on the ground, and crawled towards it, pushing

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 127

my gun before me, amid burs and mud-holes, until I reached
the distance of about seventy-five yards from it, when I
stopped to observe its attitudes. The bird did not notice
me; he stood on a lump of flesh, tearing it to pieces, in the
manner of a Vulture, until he had nearly swallowed the
whole. Being now less occupied, he spied me, erected the
feathers of his neck, and, starting up, flew away, carrying
the remainder of his prey in his talons. I shot a second
time, and probably touched him; for he dropped his burden,
and made off in a direct course across the St. Sebastian river,
with alternate sailings and flappings, somewhat in the manner
of a Vulture, but more gracefully. He never uttered a cry,
and I followed him wistfully with my eyes until he was quite
out of sight.

The following day the bird returned, and was again among
the Vultures, ut at some distance from the carcase, the birds
having been kept off by the dogs. I approached by the ditch,
saw it very well, and watched its movements, until it arose,
when once more I shot, but without effect. It sailed off in
large circles, gliding in a very elegant manner, and now and
then, diving downwards and rising again.

Two days elapsed before it returned. Being apprised by
a friend of this desired event, instead of going after it myself,
I dispatched my assistant, who returned with it in little more
than half an hour. I immediately began my drawing of it.
The weather was sultry, the thermometer being at 89°;
and, to my surprise, the vivid tints of the plumage wore
fading much faster than I had ever seen them in like cir-
cumstances, insomuch that Dr. Bell of Dublin, who saw it
when fresh, and also when I was finishing the drawing twenty-
four hours after, said he could scarcely believe it to be tha
same bird. How often have I thought of the changes which
I have seen effected in the colors of the bill, legs, eyes, and
even the plumage of birds, when looking on imitations which
I was aware were taken from stuffed specimens, and which ]

128 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

well knew could not be accurate! The skin, when the bird
was quite recent, was of a bright yellow. The bird was ex-
tremely lousy. Its stomach contained the remains of a bull-
frog, numerous hard-shelled worms, and a quantity of horse
and deer-hair. The skin was saved with great difficulty, and
its plumage had entirely lost its original lightness of coloring.
The deep red of the fleshy parts of the head had assumed a
purplish livid hue, and the spoil scarcely resembled the coat
of the living Eagle.

I made a double drawing of this individual, for the purpose
of showing all its feathers, which I hope will be found to be
accurately represented.

This is the way in which one of the truest naturalists who
ever delineated form of bird, beast, or creeping thing, con-
sidered it necessary to labor in his vocation, and this is his
opinion about the evanescence of colors in the Gead subjects,
and, as is of course implied, of the undoubtedly wide play for
the “fancy” in replacing them.

Hear, too, his account of the study of Water Birds. He
says— :

The difficulties which are to be encountered in studying
the habits of our Water Birds are great. He who follows
the feathered inhabitants of the forests and plains, however
rough or tangled the paths may be, seldom fails to obtain the
objects of his pursuit, provided he be possessed of due enthu-
siasm and perseverance. The Land Bird flits from bush to
bush, runs before you, and seldom extends its flight beyond
the range of your vision. It is very different with the Water
Bird, which sweeps afar over the wide ocean, hovers above
the surges, or betakes itself for refuge to the inaccessible
rocks on the shore. There, on the smooth sea-beach, you see
the lively and active Sandpiper; on that rugged promontory
the Dusky Cormorant; under the dark shade of yon cypress
the Ibis and Heron; above you in the still air floats the Peli-
can or the Swan; while far over the angry billows scour the

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 129

Fulmar and the Frigate bird. If you endeavor to approach
these birds in their haunts, they betake themselves to flight,
and speed to places where they are secure from your in-
trusion.

But the scarcer the fruit, the more prized it is; and seldom
have I experienced greater pleasures than when on the Florida
Keys, under a burning sun, after pushing my bark for miles
over a soapy flat, I havé striven all day long, tormented, by
myriads of insects, to procure a heron new to me, and have
at length succeeded in my efforts. And then how amply are
the labors of the naturalist compensated, when, after observ-
ing the wildest and most distrustful birds, in their remote and
almost inaccessible breeding places, he returns from his jour-
neys, and relates his adventures to an interested and friendly
audience.

Itis thus the miraculous fidelity which characterises his whole
work, could only have been attained. His life is full of such
incidents. It was indeed a habit from which he never devi-
ated throughout the long years of his faithful dedication to his
art, to make his drawings, if possible, on the very spot where
the specimens had been obtained, without regard to heat, or
cold, or storm. In making his drawings of the Golden Hagle,
his incessant application through many hours of hurried
labor, without rest, threw hinf into a violent fit of illness
which quite nearly cost him his life. In many other instances
he suffered greatly. He sometimes worked, while in Labra-
dor, until the pencil absolutely dropped from his stiffened
fingers, trozen in that bitter air; and so it was in the South,
his exposure to the opposite extremes were quite as great.

But it is by contrasting his own accounts of his visit to
Lebrador and the Florida Keys, that we will best be enabled
to apprehend the rugged zeal of his out-door methods in these
widely separated regions. A visit to Labrador, which is the
nesting-ground of a vast number of our migratory birds,
having become necessary to . continuation of his work, the

130 SC, WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

first volume only having been as yet issued, he chartered a
small vessel, the “Ripley,” at Eastport, Maine, for the pur-
pose, and accompanied by four young gentlemen, fond of
Natural History and adventure, set sail for the North. He
describes his out-fit, mode of life on board and ashore.

We had purchased our stores at Boston, with the aid of my
generous friend Dr. Parkman of that city; but unfortunately
many things necessary on an expedition like ours were omitted.
At Eastport in Maine we therefore laid in these requisites.
No traveller, let me say, ought to neglect anything that is
calculated to insure the success of his undertaking, or to con-
tribute to his personal comfort, when about to set out on a long
and perhaps hazardous voyage. Very few opportunities of
replenishing stores of provision, clothing or ammunition,
occur in such a country as Labrador; and yet, we all placed
too much confidence in the zeal and foresight of our purvey-
ors at Hastport. We had abundance of ammunition, excellent
bread, meat and potatoes; but the butter was quite rancid,
the oil only fit to grease our guns, the vinegar too liberally
diluted with cider, the mustard and pepper deficient in due
pungency. All this, however, was not discovered until it was
too late to be remedied. Several of the young men were not
clothed as hunters should be, and some of the guns were not
so good as we could have wished. We were, however, fortunate
with respect to our vessel, which was a notable sailer, did not
‘leak, had a good crew, and was directed by a capital seaman.

The hold of the schooner was floored, and an entrance
made to it from the cabin, so that in it we had a very good par-
lor, dining-room, drawing-room, library, &c., all those apart-
ments, however, being united into one. An extravagantly
elongated deal table ranged along the centre; one of the
party had slung his hammock at one end, and in its vicinity
slept the cook and a lad who acted as armorer. The cabin
was small; but being fitted in the usual manner with side
berths, was used for a dormitory. It contained a small table

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 131

and a stove, the latter of diminutive size, but smoky enough
to discomfit a host. We had adopted in a great measure the
clothing worn by the American fishermen on that coast,
namely, thick blue cloth trousers, a comfortable waistcoat,
and a pea-jacket of blanket. Our boots were large, round-
toe’d; strong, and well studded with large nails to prevent
sliding on the rocks. Worsted comforters, thick mittens and
round broad-brimmed hats, completed our dress, which was
more picturesque than fashionable. As soon as we had an
opportunity, the boots were exchanged for Esquimaux mounted
mocassins of seal-skin, impermeable to water, light, easy and
fastening at top about the midde of the thigh to straps, which
when buckled over the hips secured them well. To complete
our equipment, we had several good boats, one of which was
extremely light and adapted for shallow water.

No sooner had we reached the coast and got into harbor, than
we agreed to follow certain regulations intended for the gene-
ral benefit. Every morning the cook was called before three
o'clock. At half-past three, breakfast was on the table, and
everybody equipped. The guns, ammunition, botanical boxes,
and baskets for eggs or minerals, were all in readiness. Our
breakfast consisted of coffee, bread and various other materials,
At four, all except the cook and one seaman, went off in
different directions, not forgetting to carry with them a store
of cooked provisions. Some betook themselves to the islands,
others to the deep bays; the latter on landing wandered over
the country, until noon, when laying themselves down on the
rich moss, or sitting on the granite rock, they would rest for
an hour, eat their dinner, and talk of their successes or dis-
appointments. I often regret that I did not take sketches
of the curious groups formed by my young friends on such
occasions, and when, after returning at night, all were engaged
in measuring, weighing, comparing and dissecting the birds we
had procured, operations which were carried on with the aid
of a number of candles thrust into the necks of bottles. Here

132 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

one examined the flowers and leaves of a plant, there another
explored the recesses of a diver’s gullet, while a third skinned
a gull or a grouse. Nor was our journal forgotten. Arrange-
ments were made for the morrow, and at twelve we left
matters to the management of the cook, and retired to our
roosts.

If the wind blew hard, all went on shore, and, excepting
on a few remarkably rainy days, we continued our pursuits
much in the same manner during our stay in the country.
The physical powers of the young men were considered in
making our arrangements. Shattuck and Ingalls went to-
gether; the Captain and Cooledge were fond of each other,
the latter having also been an officer; Lincoln and my son
being the strongest and most determined hunters, generally
marched by themselves; and I went with one or other of the
parties according to circumstances, although it was by no
means my custom to do so regularly, as I had abundance of
work on hand in the vessel.

The return of my young companions and the sailors was
always looked for with anxiety. On getting on board, they
opened their budgets, and laid their contents on the deck,
amid much merriment, those who had procured most speci-
mens being laughed at by those who had obtained the rarest,
and the former joking the latter in return. A substantial
meal always awaited them, and fortunate we were in having
a capital cook, although he was a little too fond of the bottle.

Our “fourth of July” was kept sacred, and every Saturday
night the toast of “wives and sweethearts” was the first
given, “parents and friends” the last. Never was there a
more merry set. Some with the violin and flute accompanied
the voices of the rest, and few moments were spent in idle-
ness. Before a month had elapsed, the spoils of many a fine
bird hung around the hold; shrubs and flowers were in the
press, and I had several drawings finished, some of which you
have seen, and of which I hope you will ere long see the re-

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 138 -

tnainder. Large jars were filling apace with the bodies of
rare birds, fishes, quadrupeds and reptiles, as well as mollus-
cous animals. We had several pets too, Gulls, Cormorants,
Guillemots, -Puffins, Hawks and a Raven. In some of the
harbors, curious fishes were hooked in our sight, so clear was
the water.

We found that camping out at night was extremely un-
eomfortable, on account of the annoyance caused by flies and
musquitoes, which attacked the hunters in swarms at all times,
but more especially when they lay down, unless they enveloped
themselves in thick smoke, which is not much more pleasant.
Once when camping, the weather became very bad, and’ the
party was twenty miles distant from Whapatiguan as night
threw her mantle over the earth. The rain fell in torrents,
the north-east wind blew furiously, and the air was extremely:
cold. The oars of the boat were fixed so as to support some
blankets, and a small fire was with difficulty kindled, on the
embers of which a scanty meal was cooked. How different
from a camp on the shores of the Mississippi, where wood is
abundant, and the air generally not lacking heat, where mus-
quitoes, though plentiful enough, are not accompanied by:
carraboo flies, and where the barkings of a joyful squirrel, or
the notes of the Barred Owl, that grave buffoon of our western
woods, never fail to gladden the camper as he cuts to the right
and left such branches and canes as most easily supply mate-
rials for forming a lodging for the night! On the coast of
Labrador there are no such things; granite and green moss
are spread around, silence like that of the grave envelopes
all, and when night has closed the dreary scene from your
sight, the wolves, attracted by the scent of the remains of
your scanty repast, gather around you. Cowards as they
are, they dare not venture on a charge; but their howlings
effectually banish sleep. You must almost roast your feet
to keep them warm, while your head and shoulders are chilled
by the blast. When morning comes, she smiles nut on you with

134 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

rosy cheeks, but appears muffled in a grey mantle of cold
mist, which shows you that there is no prospect of a fine day.
The object of the expedition, which was to procure seme Owls
that had been observed there by day, was entirely frustrated.
At early dawn, the party rose stiffened and dispirited, and
glad were they to betake themselves to their boats, apd return
to their floating home.

Before we left Labrador, several of my young friends began
to feel the want of suitable clothing. The sailor’s ever-tailor-
ing system was, believe me, fairly put to the test. Patches
of various colors ornamented knees and elbows; our boots
were worn out; our greasy garments and battered hats were
in harmony with our tanned and weather-beaten faces; and,
had you met with us, you might have taken us for a squad
of wretched vagrants; but we were joyous in the expectation
of a speedy return, and exulted at the thoughts of our success.

As the chill blast that precedes the winter’s tempest thick-
ened the fogs on the hills and ruffled the dark waters, each
successive day saw us more anxious to leave the dreary wild-
erness of grim rocks and desolate moss-clad valleys. Un-
favorable winds prevented us for awhile from spreading our
white sails; but at last one fair morning smiled on the wintry
world, the Ripley was towed from the harbor, her tackle
trimmed, and as we bounded over the billows, we turned our
eyes towards the wilds of Labrahor, and heartily bade them
farewell forever !

He had previously visited the Florida Coast, alone, in
1831 and 1832, and during this expedition penetrated the
interior by the St. John’s River. All this region, but par-
ticularly the “ Keys,” is like its Boreal contrast, Labrador,
of peculiar interest to the Ornithologist, as the resort of my-
riads of water-fowl and tropical birds of extraordinary splen-
dor. He says :—

While in this part of the peninsula, I followed my usual
avocations, although with little success, it being then winter.

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 135

I had letters from the Secretaries of the Navy and Treasury
of the United States, to the commanding officers of vessels
of war of the revenue service, directing them to afford me
any assistance in their power; and the schooner Spark having
come to St. Augustine, on her way to the St. John’s River,
I presented my credentials to her commander, Lieutenant
Piercy, who readily and with politeness, received me and my
assistants on board. We soon ‘after set sail, with a fair
breeze. The strict attention to duty on board even this small
vessel of war, afforded matter of surprise to me. Everything
went on with the regularity of a chronometer; orders were
given, answered to and accomplished, before they ceased to
vibrate on the ear. The neatness of the crew equalled the
cleanliness of the white planks of the deck; the sails were in
perfect condition; and, built as the Spark was, for swift sail-
ing, on she went gambolling from wave to wave.

I thought that, while thus sailing, no feeling but that of
pleasure could exist in our breasts; but, alas! how fleeting
are our enjoyments. When we were almost at the entrance
of the river, the wind changed, the sky became clouded, and,
before many minutes had elapsed, the little bark was lying-to
“like a duck,” as her commander expressed himself. It blew
a hurricane :—let it blow, reader. At the break of day we
were again at anchor within the bar of St. Augustine.

Our next attempt was successful. Not many hours after
we had crossed the bar, we perceived the star-like glimmer
of the light in the great lantern at the entrance of the St.
John’s River. This was before day-light; and, as the cross-
ing of the sand-banks or bars, which occur at the mouths of
all the streams of this peninsula is difficult, and can be accom-
plished only when the tide is up, one of the guns was fired
as a signal for the government pilot. The good man, it
seemed, was unwilling to leave his couch, but a second gun
brought him in his canoe alongside. The depth of the chan-
nel was barely sufficient. My eyes, however, were not di-

‘186 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

rected towards the water, but on high, where flew some
thousands of snowy Pelicans, which had fled affrighted from
their resting grounds. How beautifully they performed their
broad gyrations, and how matchless, after awhile, was the
marshalling of their files, as they flew past us!

. On the tide we proceeded apace. Myriads of Cormorants
covered the face of the waters, and over it Fish-Crows innu-
merable were already arriving from their distant roosts.
We landed at one place to search for the birds whose charm-
‘ing melodies had engaged our attention, and here and there
some young Eagles we shot, to add to our store of fresh pro-
visions! The river did not seem to me equal in beauty to
the fair Ohio; the shores were in many places low and swampy,
to the great delight of the numberless Herons that moved
along in gracefulness, and the grim alligators that swam in
sluggish sullenness. In going up a bayou, we caught a great
number of the young of the latter for the purpose of making
experiments upon them.

After sailing a considerable way, during which our com-
mander and officers took the soundings, as well as the angles
and bearings of every nook and crook of the sinuous stream,
we anchored one evening at a distance of fully one hundred
miles from the mouth of the river. The weather, although it
was the 12th of February, was quite warm, the thermometer
on board standing at 75°, and on shore at 90°. The fog
was so thick that neither of the shores could be seen, and
yet the river was not a mile in breadth. The “blind mus-
quitoes” covered every object, even in the cabin, and so won-
derfully abundant were these tormentors, that they more
than once fairly extinguished the candles whilst I was writing
my journal, which I closed in despair, crushing between the
leaves more than a hundred of the little wretches. Bad as
they are, however, these blind musquitoes do not bite. As if
purposely to render our situation doubly uncomfortable, there
was an establishment for jerking beef, on the nearer shores

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 13%

to the windward of our vessel, from which the breeze’ came
laden with no sweet odors.

In the morning when I arose, the country was still covered
with thick fogs, so that although I could plainly hear the
‘notes of the birds on shore, not an object could I see beyond
the bowsprit, and the air was as close and sultry as on the
previous evening. Guided by the scent of the jerkers’ works,
we went on shore, where we found the vegetation already far
advanced. The blossoms of the jessamine, ever pleasing, lay
steeped in dew; the humming bee was collecting her winter’s
store from the snowy flowers of the native orange; and the
little warblers frisked along the twigs of the smilax. Now,
amid the tall pines of the forest, the sun’s rays began to force
their way, and as the dense mists dissolved in the atmosphere,
the bright luminary at length shone forth. We explored the
woods around, guided by some friendly live-oakers who had
pitched their camp in the vicinity. After awhile the Spark
again displayed her sails, and as she silently glided along,
we espied a Seminole Indian approaching us in his canoe.
The poor dejected son of the woods, endowed with talents of
the highest order, although rarely acknowledged by the proud
usurpers of his native soil, has spent the night in fishing, and
the morning in procuring the superb-feathered game of the
swampy thickets; and with both he comes to offer them for
our acceptance. Alas! thou fallen one, descendant of an
ancient line of freeborn hunters, would that I could restore
to thee thy birthright, thy natural independence, the generous
feelings that were once fostered in thy brave bosom. But
the irrevocable deed is done, and I can merely admire the
perfect symmetry of his frame, as he dexterously throws on
our deck the trouts and turkeys which he has captured. He
receives 2 recompense, and without smile or bow, or acknowl-
edgment of any kind, off he starts with the speed of an arrow
from his own bow.

Alligators were extremely abundant, and the heads of the

138 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

fishes which they had snapped off lay floating around on the
dark waters. A rifle bullet was now and then sent through
the eye of one of the largest, which, with a tremendous splash
of its tail expired. One morning we saw a monstrous fellow
lying on the shore. I was desirous of obtaining him to make
an accurate drawing of his head, and, accompanied by my as-
sistant and two of the sailors, proceeded cautiously towards him.
When within a few yards, one of us fired and sent through
his side an ounce ball, which tore open a hole large enough
to receive a man’s hand. He slowly raised his head, bent
himself upwards, opened ‘his huge jaws, swung his tail to and
fro, rose on his legs, blew in a frightful manner, and fell to
the earth. My assistant leaped on shore, and contrary to
my injunctions, caught hold of the animal’s tail,-when the
alligator, awakening from his trance, with a last effort crawled
slowly towards the water, and plunged heavily into it. Had
he thought of once flourishing his tremendous weapon there
might have been an end of his assailant’s life, but he for-
funately went in peace to his grave, where we left him, as
the water was too deep. The same morning, another of equal
size was observed swimming directly for the bows of our
vessel, attracted by the gentle rippling of the water there.
One of the officers, who had watched him, fired and scattered
his brain through the air, when he tumbled and rolled at a
fearful rate, blowing all the while most furiously. The river
was bloody for yards around, but although the monster passed
close by the vessel, we could not secure him, and after awhile
he sunk to the bottom.

Early one morning I hired a boat and two men, with the
view of returning to St. Augustine by a short cut. Our
baggage being placed on board, I bade adieu to the officers,
and off we started. About four in the afternoon we arrived
at the short cut, forty miles distant from our point of de-
parture, and where we had expected to procure a wagon, but.
were disappointed. So we laid our things on the bank, and,

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 139

leaving one of my assistants to look after them, I set out,
accompanied by the other, and my Newfoundland dog. We
had eighteen miles to go; and as the sun was only two hours
high, we struck off at a good rate. Presently we entered a
pine barren. The country was as level as a floor; our path,
although narrow, was well beaten, having been used by the ,
Seminole Indians for ages, and the weather was calm and
beautiful. Now and then a rivulet occurred, from which we
quenched our thirst, while the magnolias and other flowering
plants on its banks, relieved the dull uniformity of the woods.
When the path separated into two branches, both seemingly
leading the same way, I. would follow one, while my com-
panion took the other, and unless we met again in a short
time, one of us would go across the intervening forest.

The sun went dgwn behind a cloud, and the south-east
breeze that sprung up at this moment, sounled dolefully
among the tall pines. Along the eastern horizon lay a bed
of black vapor, which gradually rose, and soon covered the
heavens. The air felt hot and oppressive, and we knew that
a tempest was approaching. Plato was now our guide, the
white spots on his skin being the only objects that we could
discern amid the darkness, and as if aware of his utility in
this respect, he kept a short way before us on the trail. Had
we imagined ourselves: more than a few miles from the town,
we would have made a camp, and remained unger its shelter
for the night; but conceiving that the distance could not be
great, we resolved to trudge along.

Large drops began to fall from the murky mass overhead ;
thick, impenetrable darkness surrounded us, and to my dis-
may, the dog refused to proceed. Groping with my hands
on the ground, I discovered that several trails branched out
at the spot where he lay down; and when I had selected one,
he went on. Vivid flashes of lightning streamed across the
heavens, the wind increased to a gale, and the rain poured
down upon us like a torrent. The water soon rose on the

140 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

level ground so as almost to cover our feet, and we slowly ad«
vanced, fronting the tempest. Here and there a tall pine on
fire presented a magnificent spectacle, illumining the trees
around it, and surrounded with a halo of dim light, abruptly
bordered with the deep black of the night. At one time we
passed’ through a tangled thicket of low trees, at another
crossed a stream flushed by the heavy rain, and again pro-
ceeded over the open barrens.

How long we thus, half-lost, groped our way, is more than
I can tell you; but at length the tempest passed over, and
suddenly the clear sky became spangled with stars. Soon
after we smelt the salt-marshes, and walking directly towards
them, like pointers advancing on a covey of partridges, we at
last to our great joy descried the light of the beacon near
St. Augustine. My dog began to run briskly around, having
met with ground on which he had hunted before, and taking
a direct course, led us to the great causeway that crosses the
marshes at the back of the town. We refreshed ourselves
with the produce of the first orange tree that we met with,
and in half an hour more arrived at our hotel. Drenched
with rain, steaming with perspiration, and covered to the
knees with mud, you may imagine what figures we cut in the
eyes of the good people whom we found snugly enjoying
themselves in the sitting room. Next morning, Major Gates,
who had recgived me with much kindness, sent a wagon with
mules and two trusty soldiers for my companion and luggage.

Availing himself of his letters again, he now went on board
a revenue cutter, the “ Marion.”

As the “Marion” neared the inlet called “Indian Key,”
which is situated on the eastern coast of the peninsula of
Florida, my heart swelled with uncontrollable delight. Our
vessel once over the coral reef that every where stretches
along the shore like a great wall, reared by an army of giants,
we found ourselves in safe anchoring ground, within a few
furlongs of the land. The next moment saw the oars of a

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 141

boat propelling us towards the shore, and in brief time we
Btood on the desired beach. With what delightful feelings
did we gaze on the objects around us !—the gorgeous flowers,
the singular and beautiful plants, the luxuriant trees. The
balmy air which we breathed filled us with animation, so pure
and salubrious did it seem to be. The birds which we saw
were almost all new to us; their lovely forms appeared to be
arrayed in more brilliant apparel than I had ever before seen,
and as they gambolled in happy playfulness among the bushes,
or glided over the light green waters, we longed to form a
more intimate acquaintance with them.

Students of nature spend little time in introductions, espe-
cially when they present themselves to persons who feel an
interest in their pursuits. This was the case with Mr. Thruston,
the Deputy Collector of the island, who shook us all heartily
by the hand, and in a trice had a boat manned at our service.
Accompanied by him, his pilot and fishermen, off we went,
and after a short pull landed on a large Key. Few minutes
had elapsed, when shot after shot might be heard, and down
came whirling through the air the objects of our desire. One
thrust himself into the tangled groves that covered all but the
beautiful coral beach that in a continued line bordered the
island, while others gazed on the glowing and diversified hues
of the curious inhabitants of the deep. I saw one of my party
rush into the limpid element, to seize on a crab, that with
claws extended upwards, awaited his approach, as if deter-
mined not to give way. A loud voice called him back to the
land, for sharks are as abundant along these shores as pebbles,
and the hungry prowlers could not have got a more savory
dinner. .

The pilot, besides being a first-rate shot, possessed a most
‘intimate acquaintance with the country. He had been a
“ conch-diver,” and no matter what number of fathoms mea-
sured the distance between the surface of the water and its
craggy bottom, to seek for curious shells in their retreat,

142 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

seemed to him more pastime than toil. Not a Cormorant or
Pelican, a Flamingo, an Ibis, or Heron, had ever in his days
formed its nest without his having marked the spot; and as
to the Keys to which the Doves are wont to resort, he was
better acquainted with them than many fops are with the
contents of their pockets. In a word, he positively knew
every channel that led to these islands, and every cranny
along their shores. For years his employment had been to
hunt those singular animals called Sea Cows or Marratees,
and he had conquered hundreds of them, “merely,” as he
said, because the flesh and hide bring “a fair price” at
Havanna. He never went anywhere to land without “ Long
Tom,” which proved indeed to be a wonderful gun, and which
made smart havoc when charged with “ groceries,” a term by
which he designated the large shot which he used. In like
manner, he never paddled his light canoe without having by
his side the trusty javelin, with which he unerringly trans-
fixed such fishes as he thought fit either for market or for his
own use. In attacking turtles, netting, or overturning them,
I doubt if his equal ever lived on the Florida coast. No
sooner was he made acquainted with my errand, than he
freely offered his best services, and from that moment until I
left Key West, he was seldom out of my hearing.

While the young gentlemen who accompanied us were
engaged in procuring plants, shells, and small birds, he
tapped me on the shoulder, and with a smile said to me,
“Come along, I'll show you something better worth your
while.” To the boat we betook ourselves, with the Captain
and only a pair of tars, for more he said would not answer.
The yawl for awhile was urged at a great rate, but as we
approached a point, the oars were taken in, and the pilot
alone skulling, desired us to make ready, for in a few minutes
we should have “rare sport.” As we advanced, the more
slowly did we move, and the most profound silence was main-
tained, until suddenly coming almost in contact with a thick

AUDUBON AND BOONE, 143

shrubbery of mangroves, we beheld, right before us, a multi-
tude of pelicans. A discharge of artillery seldom produced
more effect ;—the dead, the dying, and the wounded, fell
from the trees upon the water, while those unscathed flew
streaming through the air in terror and dismay. “There,”
said he, “did not I tell you so; is it not rare sport?’ The
birds, one after another, were lodged under the gunwales,
when the pilot desired the Captain to order the lads to pull
away. Within about half a mile we reached the extremity
of the Key. “Pull away,” cried the pilot, “never mind them
on the wing, for those black rascals don’t mind a little firing
—now, boys, lay her close under the nests.” And there we
were, with four hundred cormorants’ nests over our heads.
The birds were sitting, and when we fired, the number that
dropped as if dead and plunged into the water was such, that
I thought by some unaccountable means or other we had
killed the whole colony. You would have smiled at the loud
laugh and curious gestures of the pilot. “Gentlemen,” said
he, “almost a blank shot!” And so it was, for, on following
the birds as one after another peeped up from the water, we
found only a few unable to take to wing. “Now,” said the
pilot, “had you waited until I had spoken to the black vil-
lains, you might have killed a score or more of them.” On
inspection, we found that our shots had lodged in the tough
dry twigs of which these birds form their nests, and that we
had lost the more favorable opportunity of hitting them, by
not waiting until they rose. ‘Never mind,” said the pilot,
“Cif you wish it, you may load the Lady of the Green Mantle*
with them in less than a week. Stand still, my lads; and
now, gentlemen, in ten minutes you and I will bring down
a score of them.” And so we did. As we rounded the
island, a beautiful bird of the species called Peale’s Egret,
came up and was shot. We now landed, took in the rest of

os Soe a=
* The name given by the wreckers and smugglers to the Marin.

144 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

our party, and returned to Indian Key, where we arrived
three hours before sunset

The sailors and other individuals to whom my name and
pursuits had become known, carried our birds to the pilot’s
house. His good wife had a room ready for me to draw in,
and my assistant might have been seen busily engaged in
skinning, while George Lehman was making a sketch of the
lovely isle.

Time is ever precious to the student of nature. I placed
several birds in their natural attitudes, and began to outline
them. A dance had been prepared also, and no sooner was
the sun lost to our eye, than males and females, including
our captain and others from the vessel, were seen advancing
gaily towards the house in full apparel. The birds were
skinned, the sketch was on paper, and I told my young men
to amuse themselves. As to myself, I could not join in the
merriment, for, full of the remembrance of you, reader, and
of the patrons of my work both in America and in Europe, I
went on “ grinding’”—not on an organ, like the Lady of Bras
d’Or, but on paper, to the finishing, not merely of my out-
lines, but of my notes respecting the objects seen this day.

The room adjoining that in which I worked, was soon filled.
Two miserable fiddlers screwed their screeching silken strings
—not an inch of catgut graced their instruments; and the
bouncing of brave lads and fair lasses shook the premises to
the foundation. One with a slip came down heavily on the
floor, and the burst of laughter that followed echoed over the
isle. Diluted claret was handed round to cool the ladies,
while a beverage of more potent energies warmed their part-
ners. After supper our captain returned to the Marion, and
I, with my young men, slept in light swinging hammocks,
under the eaves of the piazza.

It was the end of April, when the nights were short and
the days therefore long. Anxious to turn every moment to
account, we were on board Mr. Thruston’s boat at three next

AUDUBON AND BOONE, 145

morning. Pursuing our way through the deep and tortuous
channels that everywhere traverse the immense muddy soap-
like flats that stretch from the outward Keys to the Main,
we proceeded on our voyage of discovery. Here and there
we met with great beds of floating sea-weeds, which showed
us that turtles were abundant there, these masses being the
refuse of their feeding. On talking to Mr. Thruston of the
nature of these muddy flats, he mentioned that he had once
been lost amongst their narrow channels for several days and
nights, when in pursuit of some smugglers’ boat, the owners
of which were better acquainted with the place than the men
who were along with him. Although in full sight of several
of the Keys, as well as of the main land, he was unable to
reach either, until a heavy gale raised the water, when he
sailed directly over the flats, and returned home almost ex-
hausted with fatigue and hunger. His present pilot often
alluded to the circumstance afterwards, ending with a great
laugh, and asserting that had he “been there, the rascals
would not have escaped.”

Coming under a Key on which multitudes of Frigate Peli-
cans had begun to form their nests, we shot a good number
of them, and observed their habits. The boastings of our
pilot were here confirmed by the exploits which he performed
with his long gun, and on several occasions he brought down
a bird from a height of fully a hundred yards. The poor
birds, unaware of the range of our artillery, sailed calmly
along, so that it was not difficult for “Long Tom,” or rather
for its owner, to furnish us with as many as we required.
The day was spent in this manner, and towards night we
returned, laden with booty, to the hospitable home of the
pilot.

The next morning was delightful. The gentle sea-breeze
glided over the flowery isle, the horizon was clear, and all
was silent save the long breakers that rushed over the distant
reefs. As we were pisoree towards some Keys, seldom

146 WiLD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

visited by men, the sun rose from the bosom of the waters
with a burst of glory that flashed on my soul the idea of that
power which called into existence so magnificent an object.
The moon, thin and pale, as if ashamed to show her feeble
light, concealed herself in the dim west. The surface of the
waters shone in its tremulous smoothness, and the deep blue
of the clear heavens was pure as the world that lies beyond
them. The Heron heavily flew towards the land, like the
glutton retiring at day-break, with well-lined paunch, from
the house of some wealthy patron of good cheer. The Night
Heron and the Owl, fearful of day, with hurried flight sought
safety in the recesses of the deepest swamps; while the Gulls
and Terns, ever cheerful, gambolled over the water, exulting
in the prospect of abundance. I also exulted in hope; my
whole frame seemed to expand; and our sturdy crew showed,
by their merry faces, that nature had charms for them too.
How much of beauty and joy, is lost to those who never view
the rising sun, and of whose waking existence the best half is
nocturnal !

Twenty miles our men had to row before we reached
“ Sandy Island,” and as on its level shores we all leaped, we
plainly saw the southernmost cape of the Floridas. The
flocks of birds that covered the shelly beaches, and those
hovering over head so astonished us, that we could for awhile
scarcely believe our eyes. The first volley procured a supply
of food sufficient for two days’ consumption. Such tales, you
have already been told, are well enough at a distance from
the place to which they refer; but you will doubtless be still
more surprised, when I tell you that our first fire among a
erowd of the Great Godwits laid prostrate sixty-five of these
birds. Rose-colored Curlews stalked gracefully beneath the
mangroves; Purple Herons rose at almost every step we
took, and each cactus supported the nest of a White Ibis.
The air was darkened by whistling wings, while, on the waters,
floated Gallinules and other interesting birds. We formed a

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 147

kind of shed with sticks and grass, the sailor couk commenced
his labors, and ere long we supplied the deficiencies of our
fatigued frames. The business of the day over, we secured
ourselves from insects by means of musquito-nets, and were
lulled to rest by the cacklings of the beautiful Purple Galli-
nules !

When we had lain ourselves down in the sand to sleep, the
waters almost bathed our feet; when we opened our eyes in the
morning, they were at an immense distance. Our boat lay
on her side, looking not unlike a whale reposing on a mud-
bank. The birds in myriads were probing their exposed
pasture-ground. There great flocks of Ibises fed apart from
equally large collections of Godwits, and thousands of Herons
gracefully paced along, ever and anon thrusting their javelin
bills into the body of some unfortunate fish confined in a small
pool of water. Of Fish-Crows I could not estimate the
number, but from the havoc they made among the crabs, I
conjecture that these animals must have been scarce by the
time of next ebb. Frigate Pelicans chased the Jager, which
himself had just robbed a poor Gull of its prize, and all the
Gallinules ran with spread wings from the mud-banks to the
thickets of the island, so timorous had they become when
they perceived us.

Surrounded as we were by so many objects that allured us,
not one could we yet attain, so dangerous would it have been
to venture on the mud; and our pilot having assured us that
nothing could be lost by waiting, spoke of our eating, and on
this hint told us that he would take us to a part of the island
where “our breakfast would be abundant, although uncooked.”
Off we went, some of the sailors carrying baskets, others
large tin pans and wooden vessels, such as they use for eating
their meals in. Entering a thicket of about an acre in extent,
we found on every bush several nests of the Ibis, each con-
taining three large and beautiful eggs, and all hands fell to
gathering. The birds gave way to us, and ere long we had

148 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

a heap of eggs that promised delicious food. Nor did we
stand long in expectation, for, kindling a fire, we soon pre-
pared, in one way or other, enough to satisfy the cravings of
our hungry maws. Breakfast ended, the pilot, looking at
the gorgeous sunrise, said, “‘Gentlemen, prepare yourselves
for fun, the tide is acoming.”

Over these enormous mud-flats, a foot or two of water is
quite sufficient to drive all the birds ashore, even the tallest
Heron or Flamingo, and the tide seems to flow at once over
the whole expanse. Each of us provided with a gun, posted
himself behind a bush, and no sooner had the water forced
the winged creatures to approach the shore, than the work of
destruction commenced. When it at length ceased, the col-
lected mass of birds of different kinds looked not unlike a
small haycock. Who could not with a little industry have
helped himself to a few of their skins? Why, reader, surely
no one as fond of these things as I am. Every one assisted
in this, and even the sailors themselves tried their hand at the
work.

Our pilot, good man, told us he was no hand at such occu-
pations, and would go after something else. So taking Long
Tom and his fishing-tackle, he marched off quietly along the
shores. About an hour afterwards we saw him returning,
when he looked quite exhausted, and on our inquiring the
cause, said, “There is a dew-fish yonder and a few bala-
coudas, but I am not able to bring them, or even to haul
them here; please send the sailors after them.’ The fishes
were accordingly brought, and as I had never seen a dew-fish,
I examined it closely, and took an outline of its form, which
some days hence you may perhaps see. It exceeded a hun-
dred pounds in weight, and afforded excellent eating. The
balacouda is also a good fish, but at times a dangerous one,
for, according to the pilot, on more than one occasion “some
of these gentry” had followed him when waist-deep in the
water, in pursuit of a more valuable prize, until in self-defence

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 149

he had to spear them, fearing that “the gentleman” might at
one dart cut off his legs, or some other nice. bit, with which
he was unwilling to part.

Having filled our cask from a fine well long since dug in
the sand of Cape Sable, either by Seminole Indians or pirates,
no matter which, we left Sandy Isle about full tide, and pro-
ceeded homewards, giving a call here and there at different
keys, with the view of procuring rare birds, and also their
nests and eggs. We had twenty miles to go “as the birds
fly,” but the tortuosity of the channels rendered our course
fully a third longer. The sun was descending fast, when a
black cloud suddenly obscured the majestic orb. Our sails
swelled by a breeze that was scarcely felt by us, and the
pilot, requesting us to sit on the weather gunwale, told us
that we were “going to get it.” One sail was hauled in and
secured, and the other was reefed, although the wind had not
increased. A low murmuring noise was heard, and across
the cloud that now rolled along in tumultuous masses, shot
vivid flashes of lightning. Our experienced guide steered
directly across a flat towards the nearest land. ‘The sailors
passed their quids from one cheek to the other, and our pilot
having covered himself with his oil-jacket, we followed his
example. ‘Blow, sweet breeze,” cried he at the tiller, and
“we'll reach land before the blast overtakes us, for, gantle-
men, it is a furious cloud yon.”

A furious cloud indeed was the one which now, like an eagle
on outstretched wings, approached so swiftly, that one might
have deemed it in haste to destroy us. We were not more
than a cable’s length from the shore, when, with imperative
voice, the pilot calmly said to us, “Sit quite still, gentlemen,
for I should not like to lose you overboard just now; the boat
can’t upset, my word for that, if you will but sit still—here
we have it!”

Reader, persons who have never witnessed a hurricane,
such as not unfrequently desolates the sultry climates of the

150 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

south, can scarcely form an idea of their terrific grandeur.
One would think that, not content with laying waste all on
land, it must needs sweep the waters of the shallows quite
dry, to quench its thirst. No respite for an instant does it
afford to the objects within the reach of its furious current.
Like the scythe of the destroying angel, it cuts every thing
by the roots, as it were, with the careless ease of the expe-
rienced mower. Each of its revolving sweeps collects a heap
that might be likened to the full sheaf which the husbandman
flings by his side. On it goes with a wildness and fury that
are indescribable; and when at last its frightful blasts have
ceased, Nature, weeping and disconsolate, is left bereaved of
her beauteous offspring. In some instances, even a full cen-
tury is required, before, with all her powerful energies, she
can repair her loss. The planter has not only lost his man-
sion, his crops, and his flocks, but he has to clear his lands
anew, covered and entangled as they are with the trunks and
branches of trees that are every where strewn. The bark
overtaken by the storm, is cast on the lee-shore, and if any
are left to witness the fatal results, they are the “ wreckers”
alone, who, with inward delight, gaze upon the melancholy
spectacle.

Our light bark shivered like a leaf the instant the blast
reached her sides. We thought she had gone over; but the
next instant she was on the shore. And now in contempla-
tion of the sublime and awful storm, I gazed around me. The
waters drifted like snow; the tough mangroves hid their tops
amid their roots, and the loud roaring of the waves driven
among them, blended with the howl of the tempest. It was
not rain that fell; the masses of water flew in a horizontal
direction, and where a part of my body was exposed, I felt
as if a smart blow had been given me on it. But enough !—
in half an hour it was over. The pure blue sky once more.
embellished the heavens, and although it was now quite night,
we considered our situation a good one.

: AUDUBON AND BOONE. 151

The crew and some of the party spent the night in the,
boat. The pilot, myself, and one of my assistants, took to
the heart of the mangroves, and, having found high land, we
made a fire as well as we could, spread a tarpauling, and
fixing our insect bars over us, soon forgot in sleep the horrors
that had surrounded us.

Next day, the Marion proceeded on her cruise, and in a
few more days, having anchored in another safe harbor, we
visited other Keys, of which I will, with your leave, give you
a short account.

The Deputy-Collector of Indian Isle gave me the use of his
pilot for a few weeks, and-I was the more gratified by this,
that besides knowing him to be a good man and a perfect
sailor, I was now convinced that he possessed a great knowl-
edge of the habits of birds, and could without loss of time
lead me to their haunts. We were a hundred miles or so
farther to the south. Gay May, like a playful babe, gam-
bolled on the bosom of his mother nature, and every thing
was replete with life and joy. The pilot had spoken to me
of some birds, which I was very desirous of obtaining. One
morning, therefore, we went in two boats to some distant isle,
where they were said to breed. Our difficulties in reaching
that Key might to some seem more imaginary than real, were
I faithfully to describe them. Suffice it for me to tell you,
that after hauling our boats, and pushing them with our
hands, for upwards of nine miles, over the flats, we at last
reached the deep channel that usually surrounds each of the
mangrove islands. We were much exhausted by the labor
and excessive heat, but we were now floating on deep water,
and by resting a short while under the shade of some man-
groves, we were soon refreshed by the breeze that gently
blew from the Gulf. We further repaired our strength by
taking some food; and I may as well tell you here, that
during all the time I spent in that portion of the Floridas,
my party restricted themselves to fish and soaked biscuit,

152 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. ,

while our only and constant beverage was water and molasses,
I found that in these warm latitudes, exposed as we constantly
were to alternate heat and moisture, ardent spirits and more
substantial food would prove dangerous to us. The officers,
and those persons who from time to time kindly accompanied
us, adopted the same regimen, and not an individual of us
had ever to complain of so much as a headache.

But we were under the mangroves—at a great distance on
one of the flats, the Heron, which I have named Ardea oce?-
dentalis, was seen moving majestically in great numbers.
The tide rose and drove them away, and as they came towards
us, to alight and rest for a time on the tallest trees, we shot
as many as I wished. I also took under my charge several
of their young, alive.

At another time we visited the “Mule Keys.” There the
prospect was in many respects dismal in the extreme. As I
followed their shores, I saw bales of cotton floating in all the
coves, while spars of every description lay on the beach, and
far off on the reefs I could see the last remains of a lost ship,
her dismantled hulk. Several schooners were around her;
they were wreckers. I turned me from the sight with a
heavy heart. Indeed, as I slowly: proceeded, I dreaded to
meet the floating or cast ashore bodies of some of the unfortu-
nate crew. Our visit to the Mule Keys was in no way pro-
fitable, for, besides meeting with but a few birds in two or
three instances, I was, whilst swimming in the deep channel
of a mangrove isle, much nearer a large shark than I wish
ever to be again.

“The service” requiring all the attention, prudence and
activity of Captain Day and his gallant officers, another cruise
took place, of which you will find some account in the sequel ;
and, while I rest a little on the deck of the Lady of the
Green Mantle, let me offer my humble thanks to the Being
who has allowed me the pleasure of thus relating to you, kind
reader, a small part of my adventures.

AUDUBON AND BOONE. : 158

Admitted by Nature to her most tender confidences, the
Hunter-Naturalist seems also to have been chosen as the
favored intimate of her convulsed and most terrible moods.
We have seen him here ride unharmed amidst the hurricane
of the Tropics, let us now turn to him standing secure “a
looker-on,”’ beside its fearful track in the West. He thus
describes the scene :—

I had left the village of Shawney, situated on the banks of
the Ohio, on my return from Henderson, which is also situated
on the banks of the same beautiful stream. The weather
was pleasant, and I thought not warmer than usual at that
season. My horse was jogging quietly along, and my thoughts
were, for once at least in the course of my life, entirely en-
gaged in commercial speculations. I had forded Highland
Creek, and was on the eve of entering a tract of bottom land
or valley that lay between it and Canoe Creek, when on a
sudden I remarked a great difference in the aspect of the
heavens. A hazy thickness had overspread the country, and I
for some time expected an earthquake, but my horse exhibited
no propensity to stop and prepare for such an occurrence.
I had nearly arrived at the verge of the valley, when I
thought fit to stop near a brook, and dismounted to quench
the thirst which had comne upon me.

I was leaning on my knees, with my lips about to touch
the water, when, from my proximity to the earth, I heard a
distant murmuring sound of an extraordinary nature. I
drank, however, and as I rose on my feet, looked towards
the south-west, where I observed a yellowish oval spot, the
appearance of which was qiite new to me. Little time was
left me for consideration, as the next moment a smart breeze
began to agitate the taller trees. It increased to an unex-
pected height, and already the smaller branches and twigs were
seen falling in a slanting direction towards the ground. Two
minutes had scarcely elapsed, when the whole forest before
me was in fearful motion. Here and there, where one tree

154 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

pressed against another, a creaking noise was produced,
similar to that occasioned by the violent gusts which some-
times sweep over the country. Turning instinctively towards
the direction from which the wind blew, I saw to my great
astonishment, that the noblest trees of the forest bent their
lofty heads for a while, and unable to stand against the blast,
were falling into pieces. First, the branches were broken
off with a crackling noise; then went the upper part of the
massy trunks; and in many places whole trees of gigantic
size were falling entire to the ground. So rapid was the pro-
gress of the storm, that before I could think of taking mea-
sures to insure my safety, the hurricane was passing opposite
the place where I stood. Never can I forget the scene which
at that moment presented itself. The tops of the trees were
seen moving in the strangest manner, in the central current
of the tempest, which carried along with it a mingled mass
of twigs and foliage, that completely obscured the view.
Some of the largest trees were seen bending and writhing
under the gale; others suddenly snapped across; and many,
after a momentary resistance, fell uprooted to the earth.
The mass of branches, twigs, foliage and dust that moved
through the air, was whirled onwards like a cloud of feathers,
and on passing, disclosed a wide space filled with fallen trees,
naked stumps and heaps of shapeless ruins, which marked
the path of the tempest. This space was about a fourth of a
mile in breadth, and to my imagination resembled the dried-
up bed of the Mississippi, with its thousands of planters and
sawyers, strewed in the sand, and inclined in various degrees.
The horrible noise resembled that of the great cataracts of
Niagara, and as it howled along in the track of the desolating
tempest, produced a feeling in my mind which it were im-
possible to describe.

The principal force of the hurricane was now over, although
millions of twigs and small branches, that had been brought
from a great distance, were seen following the blast, as if

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 155

drawn onwards by some mysterious power. They even floated
in the air for some hours after, as if supported by the thick
mass of dust that rose high above the ground. The sky had
now a greenish lurid hue, and an extremely disagreeable sul-
phureous odor was diffused in the atmosphere. I waited in
amazement, having sustained no material injury, until nature
at length resumed her wonted aspect. For some moments, I
felt undetermined whether I should return to Morgantown,
or attempt to force my way through the wrecks of the tem-
pest. My business, however, being of an urgent nature, I
ventured into the path of the storm, and after encountering
innumerable difficulties, succeeded in crossing it. I was
obliged to lead my horse by the bridle, to enable him to leap
over the fallen trees, whilst I scrambled over or under them
in the best way I could, at times so hemmed in by the broken
tops and tangled branclfes, as almost to become desperate.
On arriving at my house, I gave an account of what I had
seen, when, to my surprise, I was told that there had been
very little wind in the neighborhood, although in the streets
and gardens many branches and twigs had fallen in a manner
which excited great surprise.

Many wondrous accounts of the devastating effects of this
hurricane were circulated in the country, after its occurrence.
Some log houses, we were told, had been overturned, and
their inmates destroyed. One person informed me that a
wire-sifter had been conveyed by the gust to a distance of
many miles. Another had found a cow lodged in the fork of
a large half-broken tree. But, as I am disposed to relate
only what I have myself seen, I shall not lead you into the
region of romance, but shall content myself with saying that
much damage was done by this awful visitation. The valley
is yet a desolate place, overgrown with briars and bushes,
thickly entangled amidst the tops and trunks of the fallen
trees, and is the resort of ravenous animals, to which they
betake themselves when pursued by man, or after they have

158 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

committed their depredations on the farms of the surrounding
district. I have crossed the path of the storm, at a distance
of a hundred miles from the spot where I witnessed its fury,
and, again, four hundred miles farther off, in the State of
Ohio. Lastly, I observed traces of its ravages on the sum-
mits of the mountains connected with the Great Pine Forest
of Pennsylvania, three hundred miles beyond the place last
mentioned. In all these different parts, it appeared to me
not to have exceeded a quarter of a mile in breadth.

But even this is not enough for Nature’s child; he must
be accepted playmate of the earthquake too, and calmly rock
upon its waves. He tells us :—

Travelling through the Barrens of Kentucky (of which I
shall give you an account elsewhere) in the month of Novem-
ber, I was jogging on one afternoon, when I remarked a
sudden and strange darkness rising from the western horizon.
Accustomed to our heavy storms of thunder and rain, I took
no more notice of it, as I thought the speed of my horse
might enable me to get under shelter of the roof of an acquaint-
ance, who lived not far distant, before it should come up.
I had proceeded about a mile, when I heard what I imagined
to be the distant rumbling of a violent tornado, on which I
spurred my steed, with a wish to gallop as fast as possible to
the place of shelter; but it would not do, the animal knew
better than I what was forthcoming, and, instead of going
faster, so nearly stopped, that I remarked he placed one foot
after another on the ground with as much precaution as if
walking on a smooth sheet of ice. I thought he had suddenly
foundered, and, speaking to him, was on the point of dis-
mounting and leading him, when he all of a sudden fell a-
groaning piteously, hung his head, spread out his four legs,
as if to save himself from falling, and stood stock still, con-
tinuing to groan. I thought my horse was about to die, and
would have sprung from his back had a minute more elapsed,
but at that instant all the shrubs and trees began to move

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 157

from their very roots, the ground rose and fell in successive
furrows, like the ruffled waters of a lake, and I became be-
wildered in my ideas, as I too plainly discovered that all
this awful commotion in nature was the result of an earth-
quake.

Thad never witnessed anything of the kind before, although,
like every other person, I knew of earthquakes by description.
But what is description compared with the reality? Who
can tell of the sensations which I experienced when I found
myself rocking as it were on my horse, and with him moved
to and fro like a child in a cradle, with the most imminent
danger around, and expecting the ground every moment to
open, and present to my eye such an abyss as might engulf
myself and all around me? The fearful convulsion, however,
lasted only a few minutes, and the heavens again brightened
as quickly as they had become obscured; my horse brought
his feet to their natural position, raised his head, and gal-
loped off as if loose and frolicking without a rider.

I was not, however, without great apprehension respecting
my family, from which I was yet many miles distant, fearful
that where they were the shock might have caused greater
havoc than I had witnessed. I gave the bridle to my steed,
and was glad to see him appear as anxious to get home as
myself. The pace at which he galloped accomplished this
sooner than I had expected, and I found, with much pleasure,
that hardly any greater harm had taken place than the appre-
hension excited for my own safety.

Shock succeeded shock almost every day and night for
several weeks, diminishing, however, so gradually as to dwindle
away into mere vibrations of the earth. Strange to say, I for
one became so accustomed to the feeling as rather to enjoy the
fears manifested by others. I never can forget the effects of
one of the slighter shocks which took place when I was at a
friend’s house, where I had gone to enjoy the merriment that,
in our western country, attends a wedding. The ceremony

158 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

being performed, supper over and the fiddles tuned, dancing
became the order of the moment. This was merrily followed
ur to a late hour, when the party retired to rest. We were
in what is called, with great propriety, a Log-house, one of
large dimensions, and solidly constructed. The owner was a
physician, and in one corner were not only his lancets, tour-
niquets, amputating-knives and other sanguinary apparatus,
but all the drugs which he employed for the relief of his pa-
tients, arranged in jars and phials of different sizes. These
had some days before made a n«rrow escape from destruction,
but had been fortunately preserved by closing the doors of the
cases in which they were contained.

As I have said, we had all retired to rest, some to dream
of sighs and smiles, and others to sink into oblivion. Morn-
ing was fast approaching, when the rumbling noise that pre-
cedes the earthquake began so loudly, as to waken and alarm
the whole party, and drive them out of bed in the greatest
consternation. The scene which ensued it is impossible for
me to describe, and it would require the humorous pencil of
Cruikshank to do justice to it. Fear knows no restraints.
Every person, old and young, filled with alarm at the creak-
ing of the log-house, and apprehending instant destruction,
rushed wildly out to the grass enclosure fronting the building.
The full moon was slowly descending from her throne, covered
at times by clouds that rolled heavily along, as if to conceal
from her view the scenes of terror which prevailed on the earth
below. On the grass-plat we all met, in such condition as
rendered it next to impossible to discriminate any of the
party, all huddled together in a state of almost perfect nudity.
The earth waved ‘like a field of corn before the breeze: the
birds left their perches, and flew about not knowing whither ;
and the doctor, recollecting the danger of his gallipots, ran
to his shop-room, to prevent their dancing off the shelves to
the floor. Never for a moment did he think of closing the
doors, but, spreading his arms, jumped about the front of the

AUDUBON AND BOONE, 159

cases, pushing back here and there the falling jars; with so
little success, however, that before the shock was over, he had
lost nearly all he possessed. *

The shock at length ceased, and the frightened females,
now sensible of their dishabille, fled to their several apart-
ments. The earthquakes produced more serious consequences
in other places. Near New Madrid, and for some distance
on the Mississippi, the earth was rent asunder in several
places, one or two islands sunk forever, and the inhabitants
fled in dismay towards the eastern shores.

Nor was it alone amidst the “elemental rack” that he thus
seemed to bear a charmed life. He was threatened with
another, and as stern danger, at the hand of the red man
once during his Western wanderings. This was, when return-
ing from the upper Mississippi, he was forced to cross one of
the wide prairies of that region. We must let him relate it
in part. Toward the dusk of the evening, wearied with an
interminable jaunt over the prairie, he approached a light
that feebly shone from the window of a log hut. He reached
the spot, and presenting himself at the door, asked a tall
figure of a woman, whether he might take shelter under her
roof. Her voice was gruff, and her dress carelessly thrown
about her person. She answered his question in the affirma-
tive, when he walked in, took a wooden stool, and quietly
seated himself by the fire. A finely formed young Indian,
his head resting between his hands, with his elbows on his
knees, was seated in the centre of the cabin. A long bow
stood against the wall, while a quantity of arrows and two or
three black raccoon skins lay at his feet. He moved not:
he apparently breathed not. Being addressed in French, he
raised his head, pointed to one of his eyes with his finger,
and gave a significant glance with the other. His face was
covered with blood. It appeared, that an hour before, in the
act of discharging an arrow at a raccoon, the arrow slipt upon
the cord, and sprang back with such violence into his right

160 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

eye, as to destroy it forever. “Feeling hungry,” Mr. Audu-
bon continues his narrative, “I inquired what sort of fare I
might expect. Such a thing as a bed was not to be seen,
but many large untanned bear and buffalo hides lay piled up
in a corner. I drew a fine time-piece from my vest, and told
the woman that it was late, and that I was fatigued. She
had espied my watch, the richness of which seemed to operate
upon her feelings with electric quickness. She told me that
there was plenty of venison and jerked buffalo meat, and that
on removing the ashes I should find a cake. But my watch
had struck her fancy, and her curiosity had to be gratified
with a sight of it. I took off the gold chain that secured it,
from around my neck, and presented it to her. She was all
ecstacy, spoke of its beauty, asked me its value, put the chain
around her brawny neck, saying how happy the possession of
such a chain would make her. Thoughtless, and, as I fancied
myself in so retired a spot, secure, I paid little attention to
her talk or her movements. I helped my dog to a good
supper of venison, and was not long in satisfying the demands
of my own appetite. The Indian rose from his seat as if in
extreme suffering. He pinched me on the side so violently,
that the pain nearly brought forth an exclamation of anger,
T looked at him. His eye met mine; but his look was so for-
bidding that it struck a chill into the more nervous part of
my system. He again seated himself, drew a butcher-knife
from its greasy scabbard, examined its edge, as I would do
that of a razor I suspected to be dull, replaced it, and again
taking his tomahawk from his back, filled the pipe of it with
tobacco, and sent me expressive glances whenever our hostess
chanced to have her back toward us. Never till that moment
had my senses been awakened to the danger which I now
suspected to be about me. I returned glance for glance with
my companion, and rested well assured that, whatever ene-
mies I might have, he was not of the number.”

In the meantime, he retired to rest upon the skins, when

AUDUBON AND BOONE, 161

two athletic youths, the sons of the woman, made their en-
trance. She whispered with them a little while, when they
fell to eating and drinking, to a state bordering on intoxica-
tion. ‘Judge of my astonishment,” he says, “when I saw
this incarnate fiend take a large carving knife, and go to the
grindstone to whet its edge! I saw her pour the water on
the turning-machine, and watched her working away with the
dangerous ‘instrument, until the sweat covered every part of
my body, in spite of my determination to defend myself to
the last. Her task finished, she walked to her reeling sons,
and said: ‘There, that'll soon settle him! Boys, kill yon
, and then for the watch!’ IJ turned, cocked my gun
locks silently, and lay ready to start up and shoot the first
who might attempt my life. Fortunately, two strangers enter-
ing at the moment, the purpose of the woman was disclosed,
and she and her drunken sons secured.”

But before and during this most erratic period of Audubon’s
long life of vicissitude and exposure, these same solitudes
amidst which he wandered, knew another shaggy presence
even better than his own. The same earthquakes, the same
hurricanes, and the same red foe had beset the path of Daniel
Boone—and he, too, the rough, strong birth of nature, was a
Hunter-Naturalist! Though his deeds and aims were not
after the manner of those of Audubon, yet were they as
grand, and their lives, how much alike! These remarkable
men, one the Pioneer of Civilization and the other of Art and
Science, in that great wilderness, through which the path of
empire leads, did not meet until the career of each had been
finally shaped, and then what grandeur was there in such
meetings !

But we will trace rapidly the career of Boone up to these
periods, and see how much resemblance in the outline of the
gigantic proportions of these two men shall appear.

The great Pioneer was born in 1746, and, though a netive

of Maryland, had lived as a hunter in two other States—
11

162 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Virginia and North Carolina—before he was twenty-three,
Having reached eighteen, with rifle on shoulder and hunting.
knife at belt, he first set off alone for the wilds of Western
Virginia. He left his parents behind—since he had found
that they were not to be reconciled to the wild, roving, soli-
tary life to which he had been so incurably addicted from the
time he was strong enough to handle his little rifle. Since
then, the woods had. been his home and the father’s house
his camp—though less and less frequently, as the years ad-
vanced, had it amounted even to so much of a tie.

It was not that the young Daniel was of either an ungentle
or unloving nature that this apparent alienation and desertion
occurred—the reverse is true, and his whole striking career
has demonstrated him to have been the possessor of attributes
as loyal and as generous as ever marked the man of great
achievement. No, the instinct of freedom—freedom with
God and nature—was as strong as life in him, and his
tenacity of purpose as ungovernable as the law of gravitation.

His family was humble, and he had no educated purpose
but what he had learned from the deep breathings of nature.
What this purpose was, he never stopped to think—he only
felt yearnings—ungovernably strong—the meaning of which
he could not know—but which led him, deeper and deeper,
with yet more resistless strength, into the cool profounds of
the all-nourishing bosom of his primeval mother. Here was
his learning—here he found a language with meanings enough
to him—for each day had taught him to read with clearer
and more unerring vision. He could not interpret this lan-
guage any more than he could the purpose with which his life
was filled; but, as with that purpose, he would feel it in his
being. About all that he knew definitely concerning him-
self was, that he always had been a hunter, and always should
be a hunter; and, as for what might happen farther, he gave
no other thought than for the day or the hour.

His spirit—even at lusty eighteen—with the eye of a hawk

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 163

and agility of a.young panther—was not a turbulent one. He
rebelled against the life of usages—that we call society—not
because he lacked the strength or the firmness to battle with
it—but because he lacked the will or desire to do so. He
was too young and too healthy for misanthropy; and, if he
had been older and less healthy, the social conditions with
which he was fainiliar were too simple for him to have realized
that contar-ination of vice which sometimes goes far to breed
distrust, disgust aid hate in even strong natures.

No !—if ever a wild creature—gentle, and yet terrible in
gentleness—went on two feet through the shadowed heart of
forests, the young Boone was one! He knew nothing of any
world but God’s world—of any law but the right—of any
conscience but his own—of any Power but that which dwelt
above—in nature, and in his own good right arm and unerring
vifle.

In a word, he was the Patriarch of that “Wild Turkey
breed” of tameless wanderers peculiar to this Continent; and
from the restless and wary instincts of which our progress
towards almost boundless empire upon the hemisphere takes
origin.

“He might have been civilized!” as a gentleman, of
Chestnut or Broadway—inspecting through an eye-glass his
powerful frame and ruddy cheeks—may be supposed to lisp!
—but that would have spoiled a man/!—a man of might!
the father of a State.

You could not have tamed such a man as Daniel Boone
into the mere conventional slave while there was “elbow
room,” as he memorably termed it, in the world. If he had
been chained, that dogged perseverance—that invincible self-
reliance—that deathless love for the natural and the free
would have made him a most formidable galley slave;—under
any institutions he would have been a terrible agent of revo
lution and overthrow.

Indeed, one great cause of the solidity of our government

164 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

at present is undoubtedly to be found in the fact, that our
immense territories have as yet formed an outlet for such
fierce unbending spirits, in the better work of pioneering,
than the worse of emeutes, as in hampered France. Crowd
such natures too much, and the friction assuredly causes an
explosion! They are too combustible to be trusted near the
fires which rage beneath such cauldrons as Paris! Give them
air and “elbow room!”’ Cool them beneath the shadows of
wide forests, and beside the rivulets that murmur, glistening
here and there—or by the deep beds where mighty torrents
roll and roar—then you make human beings of them—you
temper down that savage restlessness of restraint which makes
of them beasts and devils elsewhere. However stern the code
their passions and necessities may cause them to adopt, yet
it is sure to be based upon justice, and lead to wide utility.
Society had always better let such men go—if they want to
go—if it be even to “the fartherest Ind”—for it is as sure in
that event to hear of them again for ultimate good, as it is
certain, if they are restrained, to feel them for immediate evil.

Young Boone passed through Virginia until he reached the
wooded slopes, dark glens, and lofty cliffs of the Alleghany
Mountains. Here at last it was lonely and wild enough for
him. Here he felt was home and peace. Parts of this region
were singularly picturesque and lovely, as they indeed still
are. The fine open woods, heavily sodded with a rich and
nutritious grass, afforded at that time the most abundant
pasturage for great herds of deer, while now these lovely
slopes are covered with large grazing farms, sustaining some
of the finest cattle in the world.

The young adventurer soon built him a little hut in a ravine
on the side of a mountain, about twenty miles beyond what
he then supposed to be the outermost boundary of settlement.
He then quietly proceeded to explore the region round about
—pursuing industriously, in the meanwhile, his chosen voca-
tion of hunter. This was at that time a far more honorable

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 165

and lucrative employment than can well be realized now, for
although very many devoted themselves to it as a means of
earning an honest livelihood, and the skins and meat of the
animals slain by them found an important branch of traffic to
the whole country—yet everybody was in addition more or
less a hunter—so that, fortunately, for our struggles then
and since, this might be called the chief occupation of the
people, and we a nation of hunters.

He went in to the nearest trading post now and then, laden
with skins and meat, to exchange them for powder, lead and
other necessaries, returning as speedily as possible, for the
very atmosphere of even such “crowded haunts,” was oppres-
sive to him, and the coarse voices of common traffic sounded
harsh enough to ears accustomed only to those of nature.

His lonely explorations were first directed towards the sum
mits of the great chain. He would make excursions of weeks
together along the wildest and most inaccessible sides of the
mountains—penetrating their deepest fastnesses, and camping
wherever the game or other objects of interest attracted him
for a time—then he would on again, to some newer and yet
more difficult region within reasonable reach of his solitary
cabin, and in a different direction.

Thus the whole year was unconsciously spent in scaling
the Eastern side of those mountains—the descent upon the
Western slope of which was to open to him a field of re-
nown.

We next hear of him on the Frontier of North Carolina.
Here he lived for over a year in the most entire seclusion—
never being seen except when he came in to the nearest
settlement for powder and lead; and here he seemed still more
shy than before—but yet his unusual energy as a hunter, his
skill in wood-craft, and his cool, reckless presence of mind,
under all circumstances of danger, soon attracted the admira-
tion of the Border men, and, in spite of his modesty and
entire shrinking from all intercourse with his fellows that

166 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. *

could be avoided, he found himself at twenty-one literally
dragged forward into the position of a leader.

The frontier of North Carolina was at that time a good
deal harrassed by Indians, but principally by white ruffians
and marauders who assumed the guise of Indians to perpetrate
their most infamous outrages. From his knowledge of wood-
eraft he was soon enabled to put a stop to this trick, and
break down this dangerous combination. This gained him, in
a still greater degree, the admiration of the borderers, and he
was now regarded as a person of importance, and great con-
fidence reposed in him, though so young a man.

Little was known, at this time, of the vast country beyond
the Alleghanies to the West, but most especially of the wild
and remote land of Kan-tuck-Kee, as it was termed from its
principal river by the Indians.

It is true, that so early as 1543, the Spaniards who pene-
trated the northern country under the chivalrous and unfor-
funate De Soto, discovered Kentucky while descending the
Mississippi; that on the Ohio and Mississippi sides it had
frequently been merely touched by the French Canadians,
and by Jesuit missionaries, but it seems that a Colonel Wood
in 1654, was the first American who penetrated it so far
as the Mississippi, through the interior.

In 1670, Captain Bolt, visited it from Virginia, then the
famous Jesuit, Father Hennepin, visited it in 1680. He is
followed by Captain Tonti, three years afterwards, who de-
scended the Mississippi for the first time to its mouth, along
with the famous Laselle. By the year 1739, the French
Canadian traders had a regular trail through Kentucky by
the Big Bone Lick. In 1750, Dr. Thomas Walker crossed
the Alleghanies and explored to the Cumberland and Kentucky
rivers; then James McBride, in 1754, descended to the mouth
of the Kentucky river and left his name there carved upon
beech tree. But it was not until 1767 that the country could
be said to have been really explored.

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 167

Tn this year a bold and enterprising man, who is only
known as John Finley, with a small party of restless and
reckless persons like himself, did penetrate the very heart of
the land, and returning to North Carolina with the story of
this new Eden, fired the spirit of adventure wherever he
went.

By this time, young Boone had married the daughter of a
brave and upright borderer. In 1769 he left his little family,
and with this same John Finley for a guide, and accompanied
by a small party in addition, he set off for the new Dorado.
His restless spirit yearned for solitudes more vast-and wild
than any he had yet known. It was only in the excitement
of action, constant and unresting, that he could live.

From this time the history of the young hunter is well
known. A little over one month, from the first of May to the
seventh of June, 1769, the party of Boone, consisting of five
men beside himself, arrived on what was then called Red
river, after having crossed the mountains and penetrated, on
foot, full five hundred miles, the untracked wilderness. Here
they formed a camp near where the guide, John Finley, had
formerly camped when trapping and trading with the Indians
on his last expedition. ;

They remained here for some time to recruit, and each day
the young Boone wandered farther from the camp towards
the west. He made an expedition of several days at last,
and having found a much more convenient and lovely location,
returned, broke up his camp and moved on to this place.

From this camp he made even wider excursions than before,
and it was upon one of these when, alone, he came out upon
a mountain steppe, and saw stretched beneath him, as far as
eye could reach, the wondrous vision of Kentucky. Miles
and miles away the fair and glorious land extended in flowery
undulating plains, along which, here and there, stretched
dark lines of heavy forest, above which, in thin squadrons,
the pale morning mist was lifting slowly on the rising breath

168 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

of odorous summer. It was a vision more rare thau day
dreams reveal to wild Utopian. The young hunter wam over-
whelmed. Here the mother that he worshiped had put on
her beautiful garments at last, and revealed herself to him as
God had caused her to be! Here he could realize the joy
of worship, the soft terror of an overcoming awe, and trans-
ported, cry aloud in wonder! .

The Father of Empire stood above his realm, and knew
not, as his heart swelled and trembled while the majesty of
this new land passed into and possessed his soul, what a heri-.
tage of renown it was to prove to him.

He lingered in rapturous musings until the night gathered,
and then returned with a proud elastic step to the camp. He
felt now, for the first time, a fullness of content. Here was
a space before him apparently illimitable, and ad nature,
nothing but nature! For the dangers he cared nothing, he
was already familiar with, and fully prepared for them; and in
the fullness of his joy, only looked forward to that vast un-
broken quiet of the ancient wilds, and that had so absorbed
his life in its own stillness. He was no longer a youth now,
but had become suddenly a man in this fruition, his life dream!

The camp was broken up next morning, and young Boone
with his companions pushed on with great alertness to pene-
trate the new Eden, and explore its treasures. But poor
Boone, who, in the eagerness of his new enthusiasm, urged on
ahead of the rest of the party, in company with his favorite
friend and companion, Stewart, was suddenly brought to a
stand; for, surrounded by a large party of Indians, they were
made prisoners as they carelessly ascended a steep hill. They
were plundered, stripped and bound of course, for the Shawa-
nees who held that portion of Kentucky then, were not a
little remarkable for their want of ceremony in such cases.

The tact of the consummate borderers now showed itself,
and Boone with his companion feigned content, with such
& quiet resignation, that the savages were entirely deceived,

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 169

and gave them liberties which finally resulted in the desired
opportunity of escape, and of which they skillfully availed
themselves in time to get off. They found their camp broken
and plundered, and, to their great dismay, that the rest of the
party having become frightened by the appearance of the
Indians, had returned to North Carolina. This was a great
shock to Boone, but his nature was far too resolute to be
deterred at all from the prosecution of his fixed purpose at
the out-set, to explore and possess this whole region.

170 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Soon after this, his brother, Squire Boone, joined them
with a small supply of necessaries, of which powder and shot
were the most important.

John Stewart seems to have been a doomed man from the
beginning, and his blood was to be the first offered up in the
savage and unnatural struggle which was about to begin
between the Red man and his brother, the “long knife!” As
yet only incidental traders, the Jesuit missionaries, the Cana-
dian French, and a few explorers whom we’ have named, had
penetrated here and there on the different sides of this lovely
land, and had been met with that sort of surly endurance
which characterizes, always, the first intercourse of the savage
with the civilized trader or explorer. As yet no blood of the
white man had been shed in Kentucky.

As Boone, his brother and Stewart were traversing the
forest this autumn, they were suddenly fired upon by a large
party of Indians from a cane-brake, and Stewart fell, mor-
tally wounded! Resistance was useless, and the brothers
fled from the overwhelming force, and the scalping-knife
which was drawn around poor Stewart’s skull, opened, with
its gory trophy, one of the most obstinate and bloody wars
that ever occurred between two races.

Heretofore the most powerful aboriginal tribes of the north
and the south had made Kentucky the common battle-ground.
Taking the bloody wars between the Talegans and the Lenaps,
with the branch of the grand and famous tribe of Natches in
West Kentucky, and with the Sciotos in Hast Kentucky ; then
the later wars after the breaking up of the great Lenap con-
federacy, between the Senekas, the Mohawks, the powerful
tribes of Menguys, Wyandots, &c., down to the time of the great
Shawanee confederacy, and this beautiful land of Kentucky
had been the field and scene of all the darkest struggles;
therefore it came to be called the “dark and bloody ground!”

Indeed, considering the tremendous struggle between the
Otawas and the Shawanees for supremacy, in which the former

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 171

conquered, and uniting that with those which had preceded,
and with the still more deadly and ferocious contest which,—
incipient with the appearance of De Soto on the banks of the
Mississippi,—was precipitated here by the death of Stewart;
I think Kentucky may truly be said to be entitled to the
name.

The Council ground—the hunting ground—the battle
ground of many nations—Kentucky may well feel that she
has been “tried in the furnace !’’—that she has a right to
send forth some names of historic dignity—to have at least a
place among her sisters! She does not boast of her heroes—
she only presents them !

The two Boones were the only white men now left in this
vast expanse of wilderness. They were cool and resolute per-
sons; but it seemed a tremendous and almost infinite thing for
them to be alone here, with the momentary prospect of collision
with a foe who had just pronounced “war to the knife’—
in the slaughter of Stewart; and, to make this more remark-
able still, the brother of Boone returned for supplies—and
with the purpose of bringing out all that was necessary, in
the way of implements, for opening a settlement.

In the meantime, Daniel was left sole tenant of the wilder-
ness. Think of it!—alone!—this single young man, with
his rifle on shoulder, presuming to hold, “‘by right of posses-
sion,” this great demesne against savage foes unnumbered.
This dark rich earth had been colored by the blood of many
nations poured upon it. Why should it not continue the
scene of desperate and memorable struggle?

Alone !—in his own proper self he stood, the sole repre-
sentative of the great world he had left. The Romulus of
Saxon blood, he was founding a new empire, and, greater
than he—was fed, not upon the “wolf’s milk’”—but upon
the abundance of mild and serene nature—upon the delicious
esculence of her forest game, and fruits of her wild luxuriant
vines.

172 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

With all his anxieties, he found repose here. He kne+t
content to be where he was, at last, with none to rebuke him,
none to say to him, nay.

His brother returned during the year, and they met at the
camp where they had parted. The brave and noble brothers
now explored the country more thoroughly, and to greater
distances than before, as the younger had then brought in
what was far more precious than silver and gold, powder and
shot! . The last of the year 1771, they returned for their
families, having determined to remove to Kentucky. The
renown of the young hunter and his discovery had now
reached the settlements, and on the way back he was joined
by forty stout hunters in Powell’s valley.

They had reached the interior, when the party was attacked
by a large force of Indians, and six of their number killed.
Their cattle were scattered, and indeed the whole party dis-
organized by this incident, and in spite of Boone’s exhorta-
tions, they persisted in returning upon their trail and retreated
to a settlement on the Clinch river.

Boone was indignant, and buried himself in the depths of
the forest, leaving his family in charge of the new settlement,
and there remained alone, a hunter, for four years, revisiting
his family occasionally.

He had now become generally known as the man of the
frontiers, and his reputation had filled the ear of authority,
and, by the energetic Governor Spottswood, of the State of
Virginia at that time, he was employed in some surveys of
importance, and from that period was considered the leading
spirit of that part of the State territory.

In 1775, after numerous and important services to the
Government and the emigrants, who had begun to flock into
the country from all sections, in small parties, he arrived at
a salt spring or lick, with a scattered fragment of his party,
which had been much cut up by the Indians, and commenced
building a fort on the site of what is now termed Boons-

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 173

borough. They were much annoyed by the Indians during
this time, and one man was killed by them, but they suffered
most from want of provisions. The indomitable courage of
Boone overcame everything; he finished his fort, and soon
after removed his wife and daughter to the stronghold—and
now these two women stood alone by his side, the first who
had crossed the mountains yet—the first white women who
had yet stood upon the soil of Kentucky! The mother of a
state stood now beside the daughter !

I cannot follow up with minuteness the further details of
the life of this remarkable man. His story is the history of
the birth of states in our progress towards the Empire of the
West. Itis well known that so soon as Kentucky had grown,
mainly under his fostering, to be able to take care of herself,
and the smoke of his neighbor’s cabin could be seen on the
distant hills, the restless pioneer shouldered his rifle and
pushed forward to find more room in the yet deeper and un-
violated solitudes of Missouri.

But let us turn to Audubon’s first meeting with him, as
related by himself in his sketch of the progress of early settle-
ment, and of the wild sports of Kentucky. He says :—

Kentucky -was formerly attached to Virginia, but'in those
days the Indians looked upon that portion of the western
wilds as their own, and abandoned the district only when
forced to do so, moving with disconsolate hearts farther into
the recesses of the unexplored forests. Doubtless the rich-
ness of its soil, and the beauty of its borders, situated as they
are along one of the most beautiful rivers in the world, con-
tributed as much to attract the old Virginians, as the desire
so generally experienced in America, of spreading over the
uncultivated tracts, and bringing into cultivation lands that
have for unknown ages teemed with the wild luxuriance of
untamed nature. The conquest of Kentucky was not per-
formed without many difficulties. The warfare that long ex
isted between the intruders and the Redskins was sanguinary

174 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

and protracted; but the former at length made good their
footing. and the latter drew off their shattered bands, dis-
mayed by the mental superiority and indomitable courage of
the white men.

This region was probably* discovered by a daring hunter,
the renowned Daniel Boone. The richness of its soil, its
magnificent forests, its numberless navigable streams, its salt
springs and licks, its saltpetre caves, its coal strata, and the
vast herds of buffaloes and deer that browsed on ‘its hills and
amidst its charming valleys, afforded ample inducements to
the new settler, who pushed forward with a spirit far above
that of the most undaunted tribes, which for ages had been
the sole possessors of the soil.

The Virginians thronged towards the Ohio. An axe, a
couple of horses and a heavy rifle, with store of ammunition,
were all that were considered necessary for the equipment
of the man, who, with his family, removed to the new State,
assured that, in that land of exuberant fertility, he could not
fail to provide amply for all his wants. To have witnessed
the industry and perseverance of these emigrants, must at
once have proved the vigor of their minds. Regardless of
the fatigue attending every movement which they made, they
pushed through an unexplored region of dark and tangled
forests, guiding themselves by the sun alone, and reposing at
night on the bare ground. Numberless streams they had to
cross on rafts, with their wives and children, their cattle and
their luggage, often drifting to considerable distances before
they could effect a landing on the opposite shores. Their
cattle would often stray amid the rich pasturage of these
shores, and occasion a delay of several days. To these trou-
bles add the constantly impending danger of being murdered,
while asleep in their encampments, by the prowling and

* We have given the true account of the ‘ Discovery” in the preceding
sketch of Boone.

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 175

ruthless Indians; while they had before them a distance of
hundreds of miles to be traversed, before they could reach
certain places of rendezvous called Stations. To encounter
difficulties like these must have required energies of no ordi-
nary kind; and the reward which these veteran settlers enjoy
was doubtless well merited.

Some removed from the Atlantic shores to those of the
Ohio, in more comfort and security. They had their wagons,
their negroes and their families. Their way was cut through
the woods by their own axemen, the day before their advance,
and when night overtook them, the hunters attached to the
party came to the place pitched upon for encamping, loaded
with the dainties of which the forest yielded an abundant
supply, the blazing light of a huge fire guiding their steps as
they approached, and the sounds of merriment that saluted
their ears assuring them that all was well. The flesh of the
buffalo, the bear and the deer, soon hung in large and delicious
steaks, in front of the embers; the cakes already prepared
were deposited in their proper places, and under the rich
drippings of the juicy roasts, were quickly baked. The
wagons contained the bedding, and whilst the horses which
had drawn them were turned loose to feed dn the luxuriant
undergrowth of the woods, some perhaps hoppled, but the
greater number, merely with a light bell hung to their neck,
to guide their owners in the morning to the spot where they
might have rambled, the party were enjoying themselves after
the fatigues of the day.

In anticipation all is pleasure; and these migrating bands
feasted in joyous sociality, unapprehensive of any greater
difficulties than those to be encountered in forcing their way
through the pathless woods to the land of abundance; and
although it took months to accomplish the journey, and a
skirmish now and then took place between them and the In.
dians, who sometimes crept unperceived into their very camp,
atill did the Virginians cheerfully proceed towards the western

176 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

horizon, until the various groups all reached the Ohio, when,
struck with the beauty of that magnificent stream, they at
once commenced the task of clearing land, for the purpose of
establishing a permanent residence.

Others, perhaps encumbered with too much luggage, pre-
ferred descending the stream. They prepared arks pierced
wlth port-holes, and glided on the gentle current, more an-
noyed, however, than those who marched by land, by the
attacks of the Indians, who watched their motions. Many
travellers have described these boats, formerly called arks,
but now named flat-boats. But have they told you, kind
reader, that in those times a boat thirty or forty feet in
length, by ten or twelve in breadth, was considered a stupen-
dous fabric; that this boat contained men, women and chil-
dren, huddled together, with horses, cattle, hogs and poultry for
their companions, while the remaining portion was crammed
with vegetables and packages of seeds? The roof or deck
of the boat was not unlike a farm-yard, being covered with
hay, ploughs, carts, wagons and various agricultural imple-
ments, together with numerous others, among which the
spinning-wheels of the matrons were conspicuous. Even
the sides of the floating mass were loaded with the wheels of
the different vehicles, which themselves lay on the roof.
Have they told you that these boats contained the little all
of each family of venturous emigrants, who, fearful of being
discovered by the Indians under night moved in darkness,
groping their way from one part to another of these floating
habitations, denying themselves the comfort of fire or light,
lest the foe that watched them from the shore should rush
upon them and destroy them? Have they told you that this
boat was used, after the tedious voyage was ended, as the
first dwelling of these new settlers’? No, kind reader, such
things have not been related to you before. The travellers
who have visited our country, have had other objects in view.

I shall not describe the many massacres which took place

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 177

amoug the different parties of White and Red men, as the
former moved down the Ohio; because I have never been
very fond of battles, and indeed have always wished that the
world were more peaceably inclined than it is# and shall
merely add, that, in one way or other, Kentucky was wrested
from the original owners of the soil. Let us, therefore, turn
our attention to the sports still enjoyed in that now happy por-
tion of the United States.

We have individuals in Kentucky, kind reader, that even
there are considered wonderful adepts in the management of
the rifle. To drive a nail is a common feat, not more thought
of by the Kentuckians than to cut off a wild turkey’s head,
at a distance of a hundred yards. Others will bark off squir-
rels one after another, until satisfied with the number pro-
cured. Some, less intent on destroying game, may be seen
under night snuffing a candle at the distance of fifty yards,
off-hand, without extinguishing it. I have been told that
some have proved so expert and cool, as to make choice of
the eye of a foe at a wonderful distance, boasting beforehand
of the sureness of their piece, which has afterwards been fully
proved when the enemy’s head has been examined!

Having resided some years in Kentucky, and having more
than once been witness of rifle sport, I shall present you with
the results of my observation, leaving you to judge how far
rifle-shooting is understood in that State.

Several individuals who conceive themselves expert in the
management of the gun, are often seen to meet for the pur-
pose of displaying their skill, and betting a trifling sum, put
up a target, in the centre of which a common-sized nail is
hammered for about two-thirds of its length. The marksmen
make choice of what they consider a proper distance, which
may be forty paces. Each man cleans the interior of his
tube, which is called wiping it, places a ball in the palm of
his hand, pouring as much powder from his horn upon it as
will cover it. This quantity re supposed to be sufficient for

t

178 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

any distance within a hundred yards. A shot which comes
very close to the nail is considered as that of an indifferent
marksman; the bending of the nail is, of course, somewhat
better; but’ nothing less than hitting it right on the head is
satisfactory. Well, kind reader, one out of three shots gene-
rally hits the nail, and should the shooters amount to half a
dozen, two nails are frequently needed before each can have
a shot. Those who drive the nail have a further trial amongst
themselves, and the two best shots out of these generally settle
the affair, when all the sportsmen adjourn to some house, and
spend an hour or two in friendly ‘intercourse, appointing,
before they part, a day for another trial. This is techni-
cally termed Driving the Nail.

Barking off squirrels is delightful sport, and in my opinion
requires a greater degree of accuracy than any other. I first
witnessed this manner of procuring squirrels, whilst near the
town of Frankfort. The performer was the celebrated Daniel
Boone. We walked out together, and followed the rocky
margins of the Kentucky River, until we reached a piece of
flat land thickly covered with black walnuts, oaks and hicko-
ries. As the general mast was a good one that year, squirrels
were seen gambolling on every tree around us. My com-
panion, a stout, hale and athletic man, dressed in a homespun
hunting-shirt, bare-legged and moccasined, carried a long and
heavy rifle, which, as he was loading it, he said had proved
efficient in all his former undertakings, and which he hoped
would not fail on this occasion, as he felt proud to show me
his skill. The gun was wiped, the powder measured, the ball
patched with six-hundred-thread linen, and the charge sent
home with a hickory rod. We moved not a step from the
place, for the squirrels were so numerous that it was unneces-
sary to go after them. Boon pointed to one of these animals
which had observed us, and was crouched on a branch about
fifty paces distant, and bade me mark well the spot where
the ball should hit. He raised his piece gradually, until the

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 179

f

bead (that being the name given by the Kentuckians to the
sight) of the barrel was brought to a line with the spot which
he intended to hit. The whip-like report resounded through
the woods and along the hills, in repeated echoes. Judge of
my surprise, when I perceived that the ball had hit the piece
of the bark immediately beneath the squirrel, and shivered it
into splinters, the concussion produced by which had killed
the animal, and sent it whirling through the air, as if it had
been blown up by the explosion of a powder magazine. Boon
kept up his firing, and, before many hours had elapsed, we
had procured as many squirrels as we wished; for you must
know, kind reader, that to load a rifle requires only a mo-
ment, and that if it is wiped once after each shot, it will do
duty for hours. Since that first interview with our veteran
Boone, I have seen many other individuals perform the same
feat.

On another occasion he says—

Colonel Boone happened to spend a night with me under
the same roof, more than twenty years ago. We had returned
from a shooting excursion, in the course of which his extra-
ordinary skill in the management of the rifle had been fully
displayed. On retiring to the room appropriated to that
remarkable individual and myself for the night, I felt anxious
to know more of his exploits and adventures than I did, and
accordingly took the liberty of proposing numerous questions
tohim. The stature and general appearance of this wanderer
of the western forests approached the gigantic. His chest
was broad and prominent; his muscular powers displayed
themselves in every limb; his countenance gave indication of
his great courage, enterprise, and perseverance; and when
he spoke, the very motion of his lips brought the impression
that whatever he uttered could not be otherwise than strictly
true. I undressed, whilst he merely took off his hunting
shirt, and arranged a few folds of blankets on the floor,
choosing rather to lie there, as he observed, than on the

180 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

softest bed. When we had both disposed of ourselves, each
after his own fashion, he related to me the following account
af his powers of memory, which I lay before you, kind reader,
in his own words, hoping that the simplicity of his style may
prove interesting to you.

“‘T was once,” said he, ‘“‘on a hunting expedition on the
banks of the Green River, when the lower parts of this State
(Kentucky) were still in the hands of n:.ture, and none but
the sons of the soil were looked upon as its lawful proprietors.
We Virginians had for some time been waging a war of intru-
sion upon them, and I, amongst the rest, rambled through
the woods in pursuit of their race, as I now would follow the
tracks of any ravenous animal. The Indiang outwitted me
one dark night, and I was as unexpectedly as suddenly made
a prisoner by them. The trick had been managed with great
skill; for no sooner had I extinguished the fire of my camp,
and laid me down to rest, in full security, as I thought, than
I felt myself seized by an indistinguishable number of hands,
and was immediately pinioned, as if about to be led to the
scaffold for execution. To have attempted to be refractory,
would have proved useless and dangerous to my life; and I
suffered myself to be removed from my camp to theirs, a few
miles distant, without uttering even a word of complaint.
You are aware, I dare say, that to act in this manner was
the best policy, as you understand that by so doing, I proved
to the Indians at once, that I was born and bred as fearless
of death as any of themselves.

“When we reached the camp, great rejoicings were ex-
hibited. Two squaws and a few papooses appeared particu-
larly delighted at the sight of me, and I was assured, by very
unequivocal gestures and words, that, on the morrow, the
mortal enemy of the Red-skins would cease to live. I never
opened my lips, but was busy contriving some scheme which
might enable me to give the rascals the slip before dawn.
The women immediately fell a searching about my hunting-

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 181

shirt for whatever they might think valuable, and, fortunately
for me, soon found my flask filled with monongahela (that is,
reader, strong whisky). A terrific grin was exhibited on
their murderous countenances, while my heart throbbed with
joy at the anticipation of their intoxication. The crew imme-
diately began to beat their’ bellies and sing, as they passed
the bottle from mouth to mouth. How often did I wish the
flask ten times its size, and filled with aqua-fortis! I ob-
served that the squaws drank more freely than the warriors,
and again my spirits were about to be depressed, when the
report of a gun was heard at a distance. The Indians all
jumped on their feet. The singing and drinking were both
brought to a stand, and I saw, with inexpressible joy, the
men walk off to some distance and talk to the squaws. I
knew that they were consulting about me, and I foresaw that
in a few moments the warriors would go to discover the cause
of the gun having been fired so near their camp. I expected
that the squaws would be left to guard me. Well, sir, it was
just so. They returned; the men took up their guns, and
walked away. The squaws sat down again, and in less than
five minutes had my bottle up to their dirty mouths, gurgling
down their throats the remains of the whisky.

“With what pleasure did I see them becoming more and
more drunk, until the liquor took such hold of them that it
was quite impossible for these women to be of any service.
They tumbled down, rolled about, and began to snore: when
I, having no other chance of freeing myself from the cords
that fastened me, rolled over and over towards the fire, and,
after a short time, burned them asunder. I rose on my feet,
stretched my stiffened sinews, snatched up my rifle, and, for
once in my life, spared that of Indians. I now recollect how
desirous I once or twice felt to lay open the skulls of the
wretches with my tomahawk; but when I again thought upon
killing beings unprepared and unable to defend themselves, it
looked like murder without need, and I gave up the idea.

182 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. \

“But, sir, I felt determined to mark the spot, and walking
to a thrifty ash sapling, I cut out of it three large chips, and
ran off. I soon reached the river, soon crossed it, and threw
myself deep into the cane-brakes, imitating the tracks of an
Indian with my feet, so that no chance might be left for those
from whom I had escaped to overtake me.

“Tt is now nearly twenty years since this happened, and
more than five since I left the whites’ settlements, which I
might probably never have visited again, had I not been
called on as a witness in a law suit that was pending in Ken-
tucky, and which I really believe would never have been
settled, had I not come forward, and established the begin
ning of a certain boundary line. This is the story, sir.

“ Mr. moved from Old Virginia into Kentucky,
and having a large tract granted to him in the new State,
laid claim to a certain parcel of land adjoining Green River,
and as chance would have it, took for one of his corners the
very ash tree on which I had made my mark, and finished his
survey of some thousands of acres, beginning, as it is expressed
in the deed, ‘at an ash marked by three distinct notches of
the tomahawk of a white man.’

“The tree had grown much, and the bark had covered the
marks; but, somehow or other, Mr. heard from some
one all that I have already said to you, and thinking that I
might remember the spot alluded to in the deed, but which
was no longer discoverable, wrote for me to come and try at
least to find the place or the tree. His letter mentioned that
all my expenses should be paid, and not caring much about
once more going back to Kentucky, I started and met Mr.
. After some conversation, the affair with the Indians
came to my recollection. I considered for awhile, and began
to think that after all I could find the very spot, as well as
the tree, if it was yet standing. _

“My, and I mounted our horses, and off we went
to the Green River Bottoms. After some difficulties, for you

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 183

must be aware, sir, that great changes have taken place in
those woods, I found at last the spot where I had crossed the
river, and waiting for the moon to rise, made for the course
in which I thought the ash tree grew. On approaching the
place, I felt as if the Indians were there still, and as if I
was still a prisoner among them. Mr. and I camped
near what I conceived the spot, and waited until the return
of day.

“ At the rising of the sun I was on foot, and after a good
deal of musing, thought that an ash tree then in sight must
be the very one on which I had made my mark. I felt as if
there could be no doubt of it, and mentioned my thought to
Mr. ‘Well, Colonel Boone,’ said he, ‘if you think
so, I hope it may prove true, but we must have some wit-
nesses ; do you stay here about, and I will go and bring some
of the settlers whom I know.’ ITagreed. Mr. trotted
off, and I, to pass the time, rambled about to see if a deer
was still living in the land. But ah! sir, what a wonderful
difference thirty years makes in the country! Why, at the
time when I was caught by the Indians, you would not have
walked out in any direction for more than a mile without
shooting a buck or a bear. There were then thousands of
buffaloes on the hills in Kentucky; the land looked as if it
never would become poor; and to hunt in those days was a
pleasure indeed. But when I was left to myself on the banks
of Green River, I dare say for the last time in my life, a few
signs only of deer were to be seen, and as to a deer itself, I
saw none.

“Mr. returned, accompanied by three gentlemen.
They looked upon me as if I had been Washington himself,
and walked to the ash tree, which I now called my own, as
if in quest of a long lost treasure. I took an axe from one
of them, and cut a few chips off the bark. Still no signs
were to be seen. So I cut again until I thought it was time
to be cautious, and I scraped and worked away with my

184 © WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

butcher knife, until I did come to where my tomahawk had
Yeft an impression in the wood. We now went regularly to
work, and scraped at the tree with care, until three hacks as
plain as any three notches ever were, could be seen. Mr.
and the other gentlemen were astonished, and, I must
allow, I was as much surprised as pleased myself. I made
affidavit of this remarkable occurrence in presence of these
gentlemen. Mr. gained his cause. I left Green
River forever, and came to where we now are; and, sir, I
wish you a good night.”

There are a thousand such characteristic anecdotes of
Daniel Boone that might be given, but none of them would
be so interesting in themselves or possess such attraction as
this, coming from the lips of such a narrator—for Boone was
never more remarkable for the development of the curious
instincts of wood-craft, than was Audubon himself—who of
all men was best qualified to appreciate such phenomena in
another.

Not long after his removal to Missouri, Boone calmly laid
down and died in 1818, and what is not the least extraordi-
nary fact connected with his history, died poor! With all the
opportunities his life had afforded him from the beginning, of
amassing enormous wealth, by dealing in lands, the settle-
ment of which he pioneered, he preferred a clear conscience
and a stainless name, and only retained to the last what was
his original inheritance, his rifle! Simple and generous hero
—the turf of that wild distant grave must lie lightly on that
broad and gentle bosom!

Audubon, too, as we know, is lately dead. But let us, be
fore we pass to other themes, linger to look upon him once
more at the moment, and in the scene of what he considered
the greatest triumph of his long life—his discovery of the Bird
of Washington... He says—

It was in the month of February, 1814, that I obtained
the first sight of this noble bird, and never shall I forget the

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 185

delight which it gave me. Not even Herschel, when he dis-
covered the planet which bears his name, could have expe-
rienced more rapturous feelings. We were on a trading
voyage, ascending the Upper Mississippi. The keen wintry
blasts whistled around us, and the cold from which I suffered
had, in a great degree, extinguished the deep interest which,
at other seasons, this magnificent river has been wont to
awake in me. I lay stretched beside our patroon. The
safety of the cargo was forgotten, and the only thing that
called my attention was the multitude of ducks, of different
species, accompanied by vast flocks of swans, which from time
to time passed us. My patroon, a Canadian, had been en-
gaged many years in the fur trade. He was a man of much
intelligence, and, perceiving that these birds had engaged my
curiosity, seemed anxious to find some new object to divert
me. An eagle flew over us. ‘How fortunate!” he ex-
claimed ; “this is what I could have wished. Look, sir! the
Great Eagle, and the only one I have seen since I left the
lakes.” I was instantly on my feet, and having observed it
attentively, concluded, as I lost it in the distance, that it was
a species quite new to me. My patroon assured me that such
birds were indeed rare; that they sometimes followed the
hunters, to feed on the entrails of animals which they had
killed, when the lakes were frozen over, but that when the
lakes were open, they would dive in the daytime after fish,
and snatch them up in the manner of the Fishing Hawk;
and that they roosted generally on the shelves of the rocks,
where they built their nests, of which he had discovered
several by the quantity of white dung scattered below.
Convinced that the bird was unknown to naturalists, I felt
particularly anxious to learn its habits, and to discover in
what particulars it differed from the rest of its genus. My
next meeting with this bird was a few years afterwards, whilst
engaged in collecting crayfish on one of those flats which
border and divide Green River, in Kentucky, near its junc-

186 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

tion with the Ohio. The river is there bordered by a range
of high cliffs, which for some distance follow its windings. I
observed on the rocks which, at that place, are nearly per.
pendicular, a quantity of white ordure, which I attributed to
owls that might have resorted thither. I mentioned the cir-
sumstance to my companions, when one of them, who lived
within a mile and a half of the place, told me it was from the
nest of the Brown Eagle, meaning the White-headed Eagle
(Faleo leucocephalus) in its immature state. I assured him
this could not be, and remarked that neither the old nor the
young birds of that species ever build in such places, but
always in trees. Although he could not answer my objection,
he stoutly maintained that a brown eagle of some kind, above
the usual size, had built there; and added that he had espied
the nest some days before, and had seen one of the old birds
dive and catch a fish. This he thought strange, having, till
then, always observed that both Brown Eagles and Bald
Eagles procured this kind of food by robbing the fish-hawks.
He said that if I felt particularly anxious to know what nest
it was, I might soon satisfy myself, as the old birds would
come and feed their young with fish, for he had seen them do
so before.

In high expectation, I seated myself about a hundred yards
from the foot of the rock. Never did time pass more slowly.
I could not help betraying the most impatient curiosity, for
my hopes whispered it was a Sea Hagle’s nest. Two long
hours had elapsed before the old bird made his appearance,
which was announced to us by the loud hissings of the two
young ones, which crawled to the extremity of the hole to
receive a fine fish. I had a perfect view of this noble bird as
he held himself to the edging rock, hanging like the Barn,
Bank, or Social Swallow, his tail spread, and his wings partly
so. I trembled lest a word should escape from my com-
panions. The slightest murmur had been treason from them.
They entered into my feelings, and, although little interested,

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 187

gazed with me. In a few minutes the other parent joined
her mate, and from the difference in size (the female of rapa-
cious birds being much larger), we knew this to be the mother
bird. She also had brought a fish; but, more cautious than
her mate, she glanced her quick and piercing eye around, and
instantly perceived that her abode had been discovered. She
dropped her prey, with a loud shriek communicated the alarm
to the male, and, hovering with him over our heads, kept up
a growling cry, to intimidate us from our suspected design.
This watchful solicitude I have ever found peculiar to the
female :—must I be understood to speak only of birds?

The young having concealed themselves, we went and
picked up the fish which the mother had let fall. It was a
white perch, weighing about 54 Ibs. The upper part of the
head was broken in, and the back torn by the talons of the
eagle. We had plainly seen her bearing it in the manner of
the Fish Hawk.

This day’s sport being at an end, as we journeyed home-
wards, we agreed to return the next morning, with the view
of obtaining both the old and young birds; but rainy and
tempestuous weather setting in, it became necessary to defer
the expedition till the third day following, when, with guns
and men all in readiness, we reached the rock. Some posted
themselves at the foot, others upon it, but in vain. We
passed the' entire day, without either seeing or hearing an
eagle, the sagacious birds, no doubt, having anticipated an
invasion, and removed their young to new quarters.

I come at last to the day which I had so often and so
ardently desired. Two years had gone by since the discovery
of the nest, in fruitless excursions; but my wishes were no
longer to remain ungratified. In returning from the little
village of Henderson, to the house of Doctor Rankin, about a
mile distant, I saw an eagle rise from a small enclosure not a
hundred yards before me, where the Doctor had a few days
before slaughtered some hogs, and alight upon a low treo

*

188 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

branching over tho road. I prepared my double-barrelled
piece, which I constantly carry, and went slowly and cau-
tiously towards him. Quite fearlessly he awaited my ap-
proach, looking upon me with undaunted eye. I fired, and
he fell. Before I reached him he was dead. With what
delight did I survey the magnificent bird! Had the finest
salmon ever pleased him as he did me?—Never. I ran and
presented him to my friend, with a pride which they alone
can feel, who, like me, have devoted themselves from their
earliest childhood to such pursuits, and who have derived
from them their first pleasures. To others I must seem to
“ prattle out of fashion.” The Doctor, who was an expe-
rienced hunter, examined the bird with much satisfaction,
and frankly acknowledged he had never before seen or heard
of it.

The name which I have chosen for this new species of
Eagle, “The Bird of Washington,” may, by some, be con-
sidered as preposterous and unfit; but as it is indisputably
the noblest bird of its genus that has yet been discovered in
the United States, I trust I shall be allowed to honor it with
the name of one yet nobler, who was the saviour of his coun-
try, and whose name will ever be dear to it. To those who
may be curious to know my reasons, I can only say, that, as
the New World gave me birth and liberty, the great man
who insured its independence is next to my heart. He had
a nobility of mind, and a generosity of soul, such as are
seldom possessed. He was brave, so is the eagle; like it,
too, he was the terror of his foes; and his fame, extending
from pole to pole, resembles the majestic soarings of the
mightiest of the. feathered tribe. If America has reason to
be proud of her Washington, so has she to be proud of her
Great Eagle.

In the month of January following, I saw a pair of these
eagles flying over the Falls of the Ohio, one in pursuit of the
other. The next day I saw them again. The female had

AUDUBON AND BOONE. 189

relaxed her severity, had laid aside her coyness, and to a
favorite tree they continually resorted. I pursued them un-
successfully for several days, when they forsook the place.

Stay yet, too, while we note this fine expression of the
agonized travail of genius in the production of its mighty
works. It is from the introduction to his fifth and concluding
volume of the “ Ornithological Biography.”

How often have I longed to see the day on which my labors
should be brought to an end! Many times, when I had laid
myself down in the deepest recesses of the Western forest,
have I been suddenly awakened by the apparition of dismal
prospects that have presented themselves to my mind. Now
sickness methought had seized me with burning hands, and
hurried me away, in spite of all fond wishes, from those wild
woods in which I had so long lingered to increase my knowl-
edge of the objects they presented to my view.

Poverty, too, at times, walked hand in hand with me, and
on more than one occasion, urged me to cast away my pen-
cils, destroy my drawings, abandon my journals, change my
ideas, and return to the world. At other times, the red
Indian, erect and bold, tortured my ears with horrible yells,
and threatened to put an end to my existence; or white-
skinned murderers aimed their rifles at me. Snakes, loath-
some and venomous, entwined my limbs, while vultures, lean
and ravenous, looked on with impatience. Once, too, I
dreamed, when asleep on a sand bar on one of the Florida
Keys, that a huge shark had me in his jaws, and was drag-
ging me into the deep. _

But my thoughts were not always of this nature—for, at
other times, my dreams presented pleasing images. The sky
was serene, the air perfumed, and thousands of melodious
notes from birds, all unknown to me, urged me to rise and go
in pursuit of those beautiful and happy creatures. Then 1
would find myself furnished with large and powerful wings,
and cleaving the air like an eagle, I would fly, and by a few

190 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

joyous bounds, overtake the objects of my desire. At other
times I was gladdened by the sight of my beloved family,
seated by their cheerful fire, and anticipating the delight
which they would experience on my return. The gloricus
sun would rise, and as its first rays illuminated the earth, I
would cheer myself with the pleasing prospect of the happy
termination of my labors, and hear in fancy the praises which
kind friends would freely accord. Many times, indeed, have
such thoughts enlivened my spirits; and now the task is
accomplished. In health and in sickness, in adversity and
prosperity, in summer and winter, amidst the cheers of friends
and the scowls of foes, I have depicted the Birds of America,
and studied their habits as they roamed at large in their
peculiar haunts.

That concluding passage is far nobler than “Ven, vidi,
viet!” as the simple expression of a proud triumphant con-
sciousness ; for, instead of the intense egotism which renders
that repulsive as it is celebrated, this is modest and severely
classic. What a day that was when he could say, “I find
my journeys all finished, my anxieties vanished, my mission
accomplished!” What a magnificent perspective could he
look back through, down the past, more glorious than all
royalties, than any heritage of earthly princes—and all his
own! That day has now come in the fulness of time—and,
glorious ol] man, thy mission is indeed accomplished !

CHAPTER VII.

THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY.

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER.

My native town, Hopkinsville, is in one of the southern
counties of Kentucky, called Christian, which was for a long
time one of the largest, if not the largest county in the State.
This was no special matter of boast by the way; for although
the southern portion, comprising about half the county which
bordered upon the Tennessee line, was as rich, level and
lovely a stretch of “barrens” as ever swayed its myriad wild
flowers of countless hues beneath the labored beat of the

south wind’s odor-burdened wings, yet, immediately to the
191

192 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

north of the county-seat—Hopkinsville—the whole character
of the county changed at once. While five miles to the south
Was paradise of flowers, or when cultivated, covered with
crops of Indian corn ten and fifteen feet in height; tobacco,
with leaves often three feet by two; and wheat, five to six
feet; the same distance to the north brought you amidst
rugged hills of sand or clay, that barely yielded the most
meagre subsistence to the poor and simple inhabitants, who
necessarily remained hunters. Their rifles supplied them
with that provision which the ungrateful earth refused to
yield to the plough and the hoe. As you penetrated further
in this direction, the country became wilder and more broken
at every turn of the narrow trail, until, even so late as twelve
years ago, you came upon a country quite as wild and say-
agely unaltered as when the Indian war-whoop alone dis-
turbed its echoes. Here your trails cease, and as you push
into this formidable looking wilderness, which reaches to
Green river—over forty miles—you shudder at the tremendous
solitudes of its abrupt cliffs, that take away your breath when
you come suddenly upon the verge of their deep gorges, wind-
ing far away, black with the “ Bottom Forests,” except-where
some stream that has leaped with a sullen roar from beneath
you down the cliff, gleams sharply out from the shadow here
and there; or when, in the distance, some huge “ Pilot Knob”
lifts its bare, conical crown so high into the hazy heavens,
that it seems like one of old Nilus’ Pyramids, set above the
hills! The scene here, is indeed inexpressibly shaggy, wild
and stern. These Pilot Knobs, of which there are two, are
very famous in the early annals of Kentucky; and we may
have more to say of them. They constitute the most peculiar
features of this singular scenery, and there are many legends
connected with them. Here the Indians lingered longest
after being driven from their northern possessions, or hunting
grounds rather; and here the raging hate of the two races
speut itself in the last desperate collisions, before sullen ccn-

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 198

quered or conqueror could agree to part. Here the game
lingered too, and still lingers, and must contimue to linger for
many a year to come; though what was once sole possession
of the fierce, swarthy Shawanee, is now periodically intruded
upon by the pale sons of the lordly planters of the tobacco
lands to the south, who are accustomed to make up, yearly,
“camping parties” to hunt in this region for a few weeks
during the fall of the year.

Along the southern border of the rougher part of this
wilderness, there are a few cabins of the old race of hunters,
who belong to the times of Boone, and still boast that they con-
tinue to “hold their own,” which means, being still “out of
Sight of the smoke of a neighbor’s chimney!” It would
indeed be rather a difficult feat to see this same smoke, it
must be confessed, since the nearest neighbor is probably
twelve miles off, and both thew huts embosomed in steep
crags !

I have never been a lover of, what they term so expres-
eively in the West, “a crowd,” particularly on hunting excur-
sions; the chief charm of which has consisted, in the entire
separation from my race, permitted for the time, and the
solitude that invites a refreshing communion with the primi-
tive forms of the natural world. Many’s the time have I
forgotten to shoot, and let the stately deer go by unscathed,
while I stood breathless to admire its graceful action, and
the charming unity of its antlered presence here, with the
swaying of old boughs and lapsing leap of streams. With
such moods upon me, I could not bear to hurt the lovely
creatures; it seemed as though a voice of our mother nature
chid me: “Shame! shame! to slay the beautiful !”

But I was usually as keen a hunter as ever startled the
ancient echoes with the rifle’s shrilly ring. My boon com-
panion at this time, some twelve years ago, was like myself,
named Charles, or Charlie M., as he was everywhere called,
from his merry, reckless, eh Now Charlie was a

194 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

character, sure enough, and just such an one you will mevé
with nowhere else in the world but in Kentucky; and even
there it is nearly grown out by this time. A more loyal,
gentle and generous spirit never lived, nor did a truer heart
beat ever in the broad, roomy chest of a lion-man. He was
as merrily reckless as a prodigious flow of physical energies,
mirthful instincts, and indomitable courage could make him.
He always took sides with the weak, it mattered not to him
what the odds of the oppressor, or how strange both parties
might be to him. He carried this feeling to amusing ex-
tremes in the defence of domestic animals; and many the
scrape he has got into by taking the part of a poor horse or
dog that was being cruelly beaten by a drunken beast of a
master. He would never pass such a scene without stopping
it, at all hazards to himself; he would never see a negro beaten,
and never struck his own, but resented it as a personal injury
to himself if another did. This man was the most passion-
ately devoted to the chase of any one I had ever yet met with.
His father had been very wealthy, and at the time he grew
up, at Frankfort, the capital of Kentucky, the chase was the
one fashionable and absorbing pursuit of the young men of
his social rank. The greater part of his life was thus spent
in the saddle; and a passion cultivated from boyhood is not
easily shaken off in early manhood, particularly one so fasci-
nating. Suffice it, he kept a splendid pack of hounds, the
genealogy of every one of which he had at his tongue’s end;
and some fine hunters in his stable ; and for years after I knew
him—when he moved to the south—near my native town—
he spent fully one-third of his time, night and day, in the
woods on horseback following his hounds. He, too, was a
genuine lover of Nature, and preferred to hunt alone. Charlie
was indeed the very impersonation of a class of gay, dashing,
reckless and accomplished sportsmen of the north of Kentucky,
which is now nearly extinct. Whether, mounted on his tall
and pe werful hunter, that seemed almost a miracle of indomi-

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 195

table game and speed, he went sweeping through the thick,
primitive woods at a pace that would have terrified any other
sportsman on the open ground, clearing at flying leaps the
most extravagant perils, without notice, and always close with
the chase, cheering in ringing halloes his noble hounds; or, on
our long rides to the distant hunting grounds by night, car-
rying chorus to some wild hunting song in the shrill blasts of
his curled bugle, cr to some touching balled of the ancient
chivalry, poured from his manly lips, rolling its soft accom-
paniment in mellowed clamors through the echoing hills, he
was still the splendid and consistent ideal of the north-Ken-
tucky fox-hunter of the generation following Clay and Crit-
tenden !

We soon knew each other; and, as there were many points
of earnest congeniality between myself and the wild hunter,
we soon became frequent and inseparable companions, par-
ticularly on the’ long hunts to this rude region I have de-
scribed.

It was now the last of November that we started with
hound and horn for the hills, on the grand hunt of the year.
A snow storm had commenced the over night, and none but
a true hunter can realize the bounding delight with which
the first snow storm is welcomed. Then only comes his en-
joyments in highest perfection! Now the game of every
kind is not only within his reach, but is in its highest
condition. He can himself trace it for miles and miles away
through the deep snow, until brought to bay at last, it falls
before his unerring aim. He has an exulting’ consciousness
of his independence, even of his dogs, for nothing can escape
his practiced eye and tireless patience. The most exciting
of all hunts are proverbially those in the snow; byt in the
northern States they become disgusting very soon, as they
quickly degenerate into the merest butcheries, where the
snow, from three to four feet, remains upon the ground for
three or four months, with a crust over it just strong enough

196 _WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to bear a man on snow shoes, or his dog, and yet will let in
the poor animal at every jump as deep as it can sink. Here
it is like slaughtering sheep in a pen when hunters attack a
“yard” of deer or moose, but in Kentucky the case is very
different. The snow seldom or never falls deeper than two
feet, and most frequently does not last a week. It never
crusts sufficiently to impede, materially, the progress of large
game, and all the sport is therefore confined to within the
first few days; and the principal, if not only advantage
the hunter gains, consisting in the increased facility with
which the game is traced, either by himself or by the noses
of his hounds. This makes the sport intensely exciting, for
you sometimes pursue a single herd or sole animal for twenty
miles before you get a shot; but as you are sure to get a
glimpse of them, and hear their whistling snort of defiance
as they bound on again every half hour or so, you are kept
in a constant state of excitement, and beguiled, without heed-
ing, over miles and miles that would otherwise have been
weary enough to you. It is only when the coveted achievement
has been really accomplished, and you have proudly thrown
your noble quarry across the saddle, that you begin to realize
fatigue in satiety, and self-reproach in the fatigue, as with
aching limbs you turn your wearied horse through the strange,
darkening woods towards the distant camp. Now the chill
night wind whistles through the gnarled boughs, dashes the
frozen snow in fine, sifted, searching particles into your face
and bosom; now your hot blood chills and your fiery pulse
sinks; the cutting nor’-wester searches the very “‘ marrow of
annoy ;” and with sinking heart and shivering limbs, its very
shadow as the owl sails by, causes your teeth to chatter, and
its sudden hoot makes you almost leap from the saddle in
nervous affright. Now, as the dreary way lengthers before
you, the cheerful light of the solitary camp-fire seems far, far
away, and an almost infinite distance of bog and bluff, of
crag, ravine and tangled wood, seems stretched between you

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 197

and that warm haven; then it is that conscience speaks
through the downcast life, and we are forced to realize the
prtual savagery of this miscalled “sport;” we have a fore
taste of the aches and pains of the poor animals we have been
chasing through the deep snow all day, already in our own
chafed and suffering limbs, with the sure knowledge that the
fruition is not yet, but must come when we rise sore, stiff and
shivering, from, perhaps, a frozen couch in the morning. Ah,
how the weary miles do stretch! It is in vain that a few
spasmodic notes are sounded upon the curled bugle at our
side; the echoes take on such stunning reverberations amongst
the bare cliffs, that we are awed into silence! How many
vows against cruelty to animals, against the indulgence of
such tiger-passions, are muttered as our despair gathers with
exhaustion. The moon wheels yp her glittering disk, and
at another time we should have been wild with delight to
watch the glory of the shine her coming lays along the spark-
ling earth, and through the dark armed trees; but now, alas!
it only taunts with its splendor; it cannot make the way
more short! On, on we plunge; the miles grow longer, and
the noble horse begins to stagger beneath his double load,
and then the shuddering apprehension comes that he may
give out, and leave us to trudge the live-long night through
the snow to keep from freezing. If the fatal sleep overtake
us, we must lie down and die, with our poor horse for a pillow,
and the filmed eyes of the noble buck we slew fixed in a stonied
gaze upon our own as they are glazed by the cold wind. Mad.
dened by such horrid images, and nerved by despair, we raise
the bugle to our stiffened lips once more ; loud, long and high
the peal rings out, shrill asa death-cry. My sagacious horse
has stopped of his own accord, holding his breath, while with
pricked ears he listens. Hark! that faint distant sound! Is
it echo! He stamps his foot with an impatient neigh, and
with blazing eyes and erect crest springs forward. No mcre
staggering now,—fatigue is gone ; it requires all my exhausted

198 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

strength to hold him within anything like a moderate gait.
A half an hour, and with an eager neigh he breaks into a
run, under my not unwilling rein, for I, too, have caught a
glimpse of a fire through the wood, and recognize the white
face of yonder cliff, with the moon full upon it; and in another
minute, with the warm blood rushing to my hieatt and brain,
and a mad whoop of delight, I burst into the light of
the camp-fire to be welcomed by the yells and combined
howls of a dozen hounds, and a hearty cheer from the gallant
Charlie!

~ Now the scene has changed, and by the warm fire and
over the smoking roast of tenderest venison, the feats of
the day are recounted with as much eager zest as if there had
been no such thing as cold, fatigue, and nervous apprehen-
sions. The terrors have all vanished within the charmed circle
of that fire-light, and we threw ourselves upon our blankets
to sleep, dreaming lustily of just such scenes to be gone
through to-morrow; only the dreams some how gave only the
bright side of the picture, and managed to leave out all about
freezing to death, starvation, &. So sunrise would find us
with appetites only sharpened by the sufferings of the day
before, and yet more ready to do full justice to the roast or
living venison. Such are the strange inconsistencies of the
hunter’s moods, and such the charms of the vivid shifting
excitements of his restless and tumultuous life! He is one
moment worse than the most ferocious wild beast, and the
next his head is turned aside to weep that he has slain “a
thing of beauty,” fresh from God’s own hands. _ It was thus
our lives had fared, in camp and out, for four or five days,
when the weather changing suddenly, the snow commenced
to disappear rapidly.

Our sport in the snow was now over; but we were not by
any means satisfied, and Charlie proposed that we should
strike our camp and make our way across the ridges to the
hut of a famous hunter known along this border as Old Jake,

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 199

—what his other name was he had never heard, though he
had been at his hut several times. He said the old fellow
would be very glad to see us, and would furnish us with a
“hill-boy,” whom he kept in his employ, to act as a guide
and driver for us. We intended now to change our mode
of hunting. We were to be placed by the driver at different
“stands,” as they are called, meaning places at which, from
his knowledge of the country, he knew the deer always
passed out when roused by the dogs from their feeding-
grounds. After placing us, he was to return along the ridge
for a mile or so with the dogs, and then descending into
the bottom, with sound of horns, yells of dogs and other
noises, drive the frightened creatures before him to our
stands. We found everything at Old Jake’s as Charlie ex-
pected. We were received with true hunter hospitality by
the family; consisting of the old man, his tanned and wrinkled
dame, with two stout and comely daughters, who were the
very impersonations of buxom good humor.

We had a merry’ time of it the first evening, and the next
morning, early, were joined by our guide that was to be. He
was a droll-looking. specimen, surely! Lank, long, and lantern-
‘jawed, he looked as if the fever and ague of the country bot-
toms had, in shaking him into a bag of bones, forgotten to joint
him again when he was set up; yet, withal, it was marvellous to
see the cadaverous-looking creature making his way over these
rugged hills, far in advance of our active horses, while with
every long stride his loose limbs actually seemed to be wrapping
round each other. He was called Jabe, as I supposed short for
Jabez, and carried a very long specimen of the old-fashioned
rifle of our fathers. It was easy enough to see that he was
a fine marksman, from the sharp, steady shine of his black
eyes beneath the long, coarse, Indian-like hair that hung
over them; indeed, I half suspected that the fellow was a
half-breed, but had no opportunity of ascertaining! We had
evidence enough of this afterwards. Placing ourselves with

\

200 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

implicit faith under the patronage and guidance of this
remarkable personage, we met with “sport” to satiety at
last, within two days.

We had gone out as usual on the third, and in a different
direction from any we had yet tried. The spot assigned me
for a stand by Jabe was by far the most remarkable I had
yet seen. Five miles back, we had, with considerable diffi-
culty, climbed up the steep side of a lofty and wooded ridge,
that seemed much higher than any one we had yet seen.
We had found the top, or comb, apparently level; though as
we rode on, I observed the surrounding country to be either
sinking beneath the feet of the ridge, or else the ridge wes
rising rapidly above the country. Suddenly we came to what,
I remember instantly reminded me of my boyish idea of the
“jumping-off place!” The thing was so sudden that our
horses reared backwards and snorted with affright. We were
on the sheer verge of a precipice three hundred feet in depth,
and the heavy forest below us looked almost like lichens
clinging to stones, which were in reality considerable bluffs.
It seemed as if the ancient basin of some ocean lay at our
feet, stretching as far as the eye could reach on either hand
and in front; while far away to the right, just under the
rim of the horizon, we could distinguish the dark, heavy line
of the wood bordering Green river; while to the left it shut
down upon a blue serrated line of lofty Knobs. We were
lost in wonderment, gazing over this extraordinary scene,
when Charlie suddenly shouted, as he turned his head quickly:

“ Hilloa, there !—you Jabe—where are you making off to,
you tallow-skinned knave ?—you havn’t shown me my stand
yet!”

But Jabe either did, or pretended not to hear, and only
increased the celerity of his gait, as he went crashing through
the brush down the steep ridge-side without turning his head,
ever. Charlie was highly enraged, and bestowed upon him
sundry expletives not of the choicest selection, but which it is

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 201

hardly necessary to repeat. I laughed heartily at the incident,
and Charlie at once forget his wrath in a loud burst of merri-
ment, when I recalled to his recollection the droll way in
which our guide had acted for the last mile. He had been
up to that time striding just ahead of our horses, gossiping
in the gayest possible of saturnine humors, asking us all sorts
of unsophisticated questions about the ways of the “settle-
ments,” and telling us quaint anecdotes about Old Jake, who
was the greatest man in the world, according to his estima-
tion. Indeed, he had been keeping us in one continued roar
of laughter at his simplicity,’ and a certain shrewdness
combined, when suddenly a new thought seemed to have
struck him. He had paused for an instant,—looked around
him furtively, and then drawing over towards the left hand
side of the ridge, had, from that time, commenced bearing
down that side further and further, until when we had nearly
reached this spot, he pointed here, without a word, and the
next we saw of him he was “ splitting it’? down the ridge.
“You remember, Charlie, we could get nothing, not one
word out of him, with all your merciless rallying, after he
made that sudden stop! Depend upon it, there issome fun
in this, and that fellow has got this bluff-point somehow
mixed up in the ridiculous superstitions common to his class!”
After many merry comments upon this text, in the course
of which, with our loud talking and laughter, we violated all
the accepted rules of “driving,” which require, peremptorily,
the most profound silence on the part of the “stander” as he
approaches his “stand,’’ we came to the conclusion that as
the mischief had no doubt already been done, and the deer
turned back by the sound of our voices, we had just as well
take it easy until the driver came in. So, seating, or rather
stretching ourselves upon some mossy boulders, scattered
around, we chatted away the next half hour very cozily,
although an occasional eddy of the wind would bring up to our
ears the distant babble of the hounds in the valley, and the

202 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

long, mellow wail of the driver’s horn, both showing the game
was on foot; yet neither of us rose, even, so entirely had we
become cloyed of this sport! Soon the full chorus of hounds
burst upon us, seemingly close at hand, still neither of us
rose. Suddenly we heard a heavy crashing through the under-
brush, and before we had time to think, an enormous black
bear rushed past us.

“Hah! new game!” I exclaimed, as we both sprang to
our feet and fired our rifles after the unwieldy brute. It
was evidently hit, but kept on with undiminished speed across
the ridge. The dogs, with "bristles erect, and savage yells,
came pouring after, while we, thus unexpectedly aroused to
the wildest excitement, shouted like madmen as we followed
after on foot, loading our guns while we ran. We knew the
bear was wounded, and would take to the first large tree it
came to. The comb of the ridge was about a quarter of a
mile wide here, and the ground a general level. We heard
the dogs baying furiously now.

“ He’s tree’d already !” chuckled Charlie. “ Let’s approach
cautiously.”

We feared it might resort to its common trick - when
tree’d by the dogs ;—seeing the hunters approach,—it rolls
itself up into a ball, and dropping to the ground, makes off
again. We, however, managed to get fair shots, and brought
it down. It was a very large animal of the species, and we
wound a merry blast, both loud and long, in honor of our
unexpected triumph. We supposed that the sound of the
guns and the recall of the horns would, of course, bring our
faithful esquire, Jabe, to us. After listening for some time,
and no answer, Charlie gave another louder and longer blast,
with all the power of his lungs, and receiving no answer still,
sent out his prodigious voice over the valley, with a force
that filled it with reverberations. After listening a moment
we could barely distinguish a feeble “ too-oot! toot!” that
seemed to come from no great distance, but what the direction

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 2038

might be, neither of us could tell; for Jabe, as it undoubtedly
was, must surely have been stretched upon the ground in
some hiding-place. I laughed heartfly.

“Why Charlie, that fellow is frightened out of his wits by
some ghost story,—we must get along without him!”

“More like the bear has scared him into a fit—the spindle-
shanked hill-tyke | !” growled Charlie, who was excessively
wroth for a few minutes, but whose risibles could not with-
stand the slightest allusion on my part to that dolorously timid
“too-oot! toot!” We accordingly went to work, in despair
of any assistance from the redoubtable Jabe, and prepared
our meat for transportation homeward. We had reached our
horses, and while engaged in dividing the burden between
them, who should come crawling cautiously towards us, out
of the wood, but our gentleman of the asthmatic horn. As
soon as Charlie saw him, he staggered in convulsions of
laughter, and letting his burden fall, rolled over and over
upon the leaves, scarcely able to articulate more than a word
or two at a time.

“Q Jabe! O Jabe!—the bear! the bear!—run Jabe—
the bear !—what’ll uncle Jake say!—Jabe!—run Jabe!—
the bear !”

Jabe, in the meantime, was very cooly examining the bear,
while his eyes fairly glistened at the sight of the fat, heavy
hams.

“ Gosh! he’s a whopper! Killed jest sich a old ‘un down
in the truck-patch back er uncle Jake’s, "bout this time last
winter. I was out choppin’, and he com’d snuffin’ at a hog-
bone I’d brung out for a bite, and didn’t seem to mind me,—
so I stood still, and he kinder come too close at last, and I let
him hev it across the nose! one lick turned him up, sir,—
sure as a gun!” .

I now remembered having heard uncle Jake refer to this feat
of Jabe’—but it had been done incidentally, and in such a mat-
ter-of-course sort of a way, that I had not noticed it specially

204 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

at the trme. The simple way in which the young hunter now
recalled it, and the enthusiasm which lit his eye the moment
he saw our unwonted quarry, convinced me that Charlie had
been entirely mistaken, and that there must be some other
cause than the one he assigned for the evident alarm of a
man who had already, and with such coolness, killed a full-
grown bear with an axe only. I accordingly let Charlie have
his laugh out; for he had no notion of listening to any but
his own version of the affair, while I determined to take ad-
vantage of the garrulous excitement, caused in the mind of
Jabe by the sight of this the most valued of all the game of
the country, to draw out from him the real cause of his
alarm. So we sat down on the ground to examine the bear
more at our leisure, and winking at Charlie, I at last got him
to comprehend something of my purpose. We drew him out
as to his hunting feats in general,—but most especially with
regard to those in this particular neighborhood. Gradually
he seemed to forget himself, and watching the moment, I
asked him, suddenly, if he had ever taken a “stand” here,
where he had placed us, himself !

“T!” he exclaimed, with a look of amazement,—“I!—
great jingo—no!—I wouldn’t er tuck a ‘stand’ on this here
Pint, fer all the bar on the Tennessee and Cumberland put
together !”

“But, why not, Jabe?—we’ve seen nothing very wrong
here!”

“OQ, you’re strangers! but didn’t he swar before he died
that the fust hunter, as ought’er know, that com’d near
enough that big black oak to see the little head-stone to his
grave—that he meant to haunt him to death? Didn’t he?—
I tell you this aint the boy that would go in a hundred yards
of that big oak on no consideration in natur ?”

“ But,” —said I, impatiently,—‘ Jabe, who was this per-
gon?” |

“Why, Old Bill Smith—to be sure !—you never hearn of

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 205

Old Bill Smith? Why uncle Jake know’d him well—he’s fit
lnjuns with him many a time; everybody down in these parts
know’d him!”

‘No doubt, Jabe—but you say he’s buried under the big
black oak ;—was he buried there of his own wish?”

“In course !—they say he chose the place years before he
died, and fixed the grave himself. Them as buried him say
‘it’s a mighty curius sort o’ grave. He was one of Boone’s
men, and so was uncle Jake,—and uncle Jake helped three
more on ’em to bury him. There ’aint bin a livin’ soul be-
longin’ round here since. He lived by himself more ’n two
years, down by the big spring. That’s since I ken recollect.
He never spoke to nobody but our uncle Jake, and we never
seed him more ’n three times a year, when he com’d in to git
the powder an’ lead uncle Jake had got for him.”

“Now, Jabe,” said I, in my most wheedling tone, “ Jabe,
my good fellow, won’t you show us the grave?”

“T!—good !—why man, no!—not for all the money in
your town!”

“But, Jabe, you need only go near enough to show us the
tree,—you will not be violating the command in doing that,

yo?

merely !

He still continued to shake his head, dubiously, in spite of
our united entreaties, and mutter :—

“Golly !—don’t like this here ridge, anyhow,—don’t think
it’s safe,—wish hadn’t bin sich a dratted fool as to come this
-way ;—forgot till I was most there !’””

But Charlie and I, in whom the spirit of mischief on his
part, and earnest curiosity on mine, had now been thoroughly
roused,—determined to give poor Jabe no time for considera-
tion, and plied him on both sides with such eagerness, that
after a considerable degree of wavering and hesitation, we at
last brought him up to the sticking point by the application
of a few shiners to his palm. He started, though still with
visible trepidation, to lead us to the grave. I could scarcely

206 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

keep from giving way to my inclination to laugh again, as I
watched the various expressions of dread, mingled with the
most spasmodic efforts to express a courageous and devil-may-
care sort of air, which were becoming more and more forlorn
as we approached the scene of his apprehensions.

We had not walked more than a few hundred yards, almost
immediately along the edge of the cliff, when he stopped, and
pointing ahead to a very large black oak tree that stood some-
what apart from the more stunted growth of the ridge, and
within a few feet of the precipitous verge we had been treading,
he said in a tremulous tone,—

“Thar !—that’s the tree !—wouldn’t go any closer for a
kingdom!”

“Well, Jabe, you'll wait here, won’t you!” said I, as we
walked on.

“’Spose I will,—don’t like it, fhoeah’ Nee

We laughed slightly as we looked back.

The moment the tree had been pointed out to us, I had
remarked to Charlie, that I thought I recognized that tree;
and when we reached it, judge our astonishment, to find it
was the very one from which we had shot the bear a few
hours before: and, on looking round, we perceived what had,
during the excitement of the chase and conquest, entirely
escaped our attention before, namely, that this was really the
largest tree in sight, and that it stood exactly on the highest
point of the ridge, and commanded a wider prospect than
was possible from any other spot. These observations inte-
rested us not a little, and I looked around curiously for traces
of the grave. Directly, Charlie uttered an exclamation.

“Here it is! I suppose this must be it—though it’s a droll
looking affair for a grave !”

I stepped towards him and found him kneeling on the bluff-
side of the tree close to its roots, and peering between some
flat rocks which he had partly uncovered of the mould and
leaves.

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 207

“These flat rocks seem to be. regular—this must be the
sepulchre, coffin, or whatever you choose to call it !’—he con-
tinued, as he scratched away. “By Jove! look through that
erack—lI can see the skull!”

I knelt beside him, and sure enough a human skull was
visible in the shallow sarcophagus. I immediately proposed
to remove the stone, and take the-skull out. I was at the
time a vehemently ardent student of the new science of Gall
and Spurzehim, and would cheerfully have risked my life for
any such opportunity as this for examining the skull of a man
whose character must evidently have been so very marked and
extraordinary. It was no vulgar curiosity that caused me to
disregard the slight remonstrance of Charlie, who muttered
something about the pity to disturb the old fellow’s rest. I
reverently lifted the thin flat stone, about eighteen inches in
length by six in breadth, which lay across the grave over the
head, and could then see the structure of the whole as well as
the great portion of the skeleton.

The grave was only about eighteen inches deep by about the
same width, and was lined bottom and sides with flat unhewn
stones of the same size of that I had taken from over the head,
and the rest of the cover was the same, as well as what we
call the head-stone, which stood an inch and a half above the
surface. I immediately recognized the sort of stone sarco-
phagus or grave, which is to be found in thousands, covering
sometimes miles of ground in the southern part of Kentucky
and portions of Tennessee. The people adopting this curious
mode of sepulture were extinct at a period earlier than the
remotest reach of the tradition of the present aboriginal races,
as we vainly enough call them! I have often examined these
graves where you could not make a step for miles but upon
one. It was evidently a pigmy race, for these graves ave-
rage not more than three feet in length. It was from these
ancient burial grounds that the old hunter had obtained his
idea of sepulture. Who this singular people were, wili pro

208 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

bably never be satisfactorily discovered. In the meantime,
men of sense will continue to laugh at the absurd theory, that
they are the burying grounds of the Aztecs for their children,
They must have been accommodating children to die by the
thousand just about three feet high !

After examining the interior, without disturbing the limbs
and body, I proceeded to lift the skull tenderly in my hand.
IT now stood erect, holding it off from me to study its propor-
tions—when a sudden yell so startled me that I came near
dropping it in the shock. I looked around quickly, Jabe
uttering a second yell of horror, was in the act of throwing
his long rifle from him—then bending his head forward and
fighting desperately about his ears, as if attacked by a whole
nest of hornets, he bounded with another wild screech into
the thicket, and, as far as I could hear him, he seemed to
give a screech for each bound. I turned an inquiring look
upon Charlie, who was rolling upon the leaves half dead with,
smothered laughter.

“Has he got into a yellow jacket’s nest, Charlie!’’ I in-
quired, very soberly, of the ridiculous fellow, for I did not feel
much like laughing.

“No,” he gasped at last—“ but if you don’t look out you
will have got into one, by that phrenological whim of yours.
Jabe saw you with the skull in your hand, and it frightened
him to death almost. You may rest assured that he will not
stop now until every man in the circumference of twenty miles
knows of this. There are not many of them to be sure, but
they will be troublesome fellows to deal with.”

“Well, what would you advise, Charlie?”

“Why, that we both make a bee-line for home, right off?
I think I can find the way out, and its no use meeting these
fellows while they are exasperated. We'll return in a few
weeks, when the thing has passed over ; and as I have no hand
in it, Pll make your peace with the superstitious fools, and

THE GRAVE OF THE SILENT HUNTER. 209

we can have our hunt out, and hear Uncle Jake’s story of this
Bill Smith !”

“Well, ’m agreed—but stop a few moments, Charlie. As
I have risked a lynching to get a sight of the old hunter’s
skull—I am -going to have a good look at it now before we
go!”

He uttered some exclamation of impatience, and sunk down
upon the leaves again, when I was soon deep in the mystery
of bumps.

I marvelled at that head! The skull was of rather small
size, and ran up at firmness almost to a cone—secreetiveness
‘vas enormous, too, and destructiveness quite as excessive—
but combativenéss was not large—adhesiveness, benevolence
and conscienciousness remarkably large. Of acquisitiveness
he seemed to have nothing scarcely, and of what is called
human nature, a great deal. He had prominent language, yet
one of his sobriquets was, the “Silent Indian killer!” Of
casuality there was little—but comparison was large—the
organs between the eyes were large—form, locality, &c. Phi-
loprogenitiveness was the largest organ, except firmness!

These were the hasty observations I had time to make
before the impulsive hurry of my comrade compelled me to
replace the skull. This was done with the most scrupulous
care, in as exactly the position from which I had taken it as
possible. The grave was also re-covered with the same care,
and restored as nearly as I could get it to the condition in
which I found it. We soon after mounted our horses, with
the bear meat tied behind us, and set off rapidly on our return
to town. During the whole ride I was thinking of this extra-
ordinary head, and what had been no doubt its equally remark.
able owner. What a man this must have been, and what a
career !—for, obscure as it appeared to have been, it was
evident from the awe and dread his very bones inspired in
the mind of the simple hunter, that he must have possessed

14

210 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

traits while living, quite as peculiar, as his taste in burial, or
the shape of his head. What circumstances could have com-
bined to drive one of his naturally strong and active social
feelings into the terrible isolation of life and of death, in
which I had thus far traced him.

Come what might, I vowed that at some fcbiee time I would
make another effort to clear up this mystery of the “Hunter's
Grave,” and trace the story of this saturnine old werrior of
the dark and bloody ground,

CHAPTER VIII.

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER.

I CARRIED out my resolution, to get at all that could be
reached concerning the history of Bill Smith. On a new ex-
cursion, I saw and made my peace with Uncle Jake—the one
of his old comrades who had most of his confidence, and whe
lived nearest to the concluding scenes of his life. My friend
Charlie and myself spent a week with him this time, and we
were even successful, after the first day, in reconciling to us
our old acquaintance and guide, Jabe, in spite of the terrible
fright we had given him through my phrenological enthusiasm.
Jabe seemed to have come, finally, to the logical conclusion,

that, as the ghost had not yet ridden us into our graves, that
211

212 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

it meant to let us off, on the score of our being green-horas,
“who didn’t know no better!”

“But fur a hunter, who ought’er know’d sumthin, to do
sich a thing—it would’er been more ’an his life or his sleep
o’nights war worth!’

Without pretending to dispute the metaphysical views of
Jabe, we proceeded as usual to avail ourselves of* his really
uncommon skill as a guide and driver, while I made it a point
when we returned from the day’s hunt, and when the evening
meal had given way to pipes and segars, to bring old Uncle
Jake round, by indirections, to the topic of which he was
most shy, while I was most eager, namely, the story of this
Bill Smith—for the more I heard of him the more curious
the contradictions of his character appeared.

In furnishing this relation in my own language, I wish it
expressly understood, that the whole is necessarily a sort of
scraps and patch narrative, the general tone of which I take
from Uncle Jake, but many of the important facts beside have
been obtained in conversation with some others of the elderly
survivors of that period, and who, too, had been associates
of Smith. Other circumstances of interest I picked up in
Washington City, and others more private, I gleaned in
North Carolina. I have taken the liberty to throw all these
things together, as to me ‘“seemeth best,’ and as I have to
trust entirely to my memory, am liable to some inaccuracies ;
but such as it is, I offer you this account of Old Bill Smith.

So far as I can make out the story, he seems to have been
an orphan boy, thrown upon the charities of the kind world
when quite young, by the sudden death of parents, whose only
child he was, and who had lately come over with a ship load
of other emigrants from Old England.

It was not to be expected that a child with such an unfortu-
nate patronymic as Smith, was ever to be inquired after.
He was lost in the undistinguishable and innumerable multi-
tude of that great family. Of course the fate of the poor

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 213

nameless child—for Smith can hardly be called a name !—
was apprenticeship under the system of indenture which pre-
vailed quite generally among the colonies. We hear of him
as indentured to an old farmer in the northern part of N orth
Carolina. He must have been eight years old or thereabouts
at this time.

This old farmer, I suspect, was a veritable brute; for
although the terms of indenture, besides a sufficiency of food
and clothing, together with comfortable lodgings, expressly
stipulated that the apprentice, thus bound for a term of years,
for and in consideration of his services, was to be afforded
the opportunity and allowed the necessary time for the acqui-
sition of a good common school education. :

This part of his bond and duty, it seems, the old curmud-
geon never did or would fulfill, thinking, I suppose, that learn-
ing was only one of the worldly vanities, and would most
likely turn the boy’s head. William seems to have been, from
the beginning, remarkable more for wilfulness than any other
trait; and I suppose it was quite as much because old Saun-
ders refused to send him to school as from any inherent love
of learning, that he determined to learn to read anyhow.

Little blue-eyed Mattie Saunders, who seemed a stray
angel by the fireside of the old beast who called her child,
somehow or other divined the wishes and purpose of the
young Smith; and as her excellent mother had taken care to
learn her to read as soon as she could speak, from a‘sort of:
melancholy presentiment that she had not long to tarry with
her, she proved a very capable and certainly remarkably
successful instructress. Certain it is, that if he did not
take to learning for learning’s own sweet sake altogether,
there proved to be a most salutary attraction in that little
white and dumpy finger, gliding from letter to letter, to fix
the attention of the wilful and headstrong boy.

He made such rapid progress that he soon became the
teacher of his young mistress in turn; and as this relation

214 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

between the young ones had to be kept scrupulously private,
the pleasures of such stolen intercourse were greatly lightened.

This condition of things, charming enough, no doubt, to

both parties, was most unpleasantly broken up by the acci-
dental discovery of its existence by the old man, who, it seems,
was furious thereat, and from that time commenced a series
of petty and abominable persecutions, which almost drove the
forlorn and wretched child mad.
. The gentle consolations which he had heretofore received
from sweet little Mattie, were now denied him. He was
banished, in mid-winter, to the barn to sleep on the hay, with
only a single thin and tattered blanket to cover his shivering
body.

The heroic boy bore all this for eighteen months without a
murmur, and all for the sake of his little mistress, with whom,
in spite of the vigilance of the father, he managed to obtain
occasional interviews, in which, with many tears on both
sides, the testimonials of their pure and innocent affection
were hurriedly exchanged.

Old Saunders had but the one child ; and having amassed a
considerable fortune by the most parsimonious and usurious
practices, he was constantly haunted by the apprehension,
even.in her childhood, that every one who approached little
Mattie did so with an eye to her money. The child was
tender-hearted, meek, and confiding, as her poor mother had
been before her; and the wretch remembered how even he
had wrought upon the isolation of that poor woman, and
induced her to confide to him her little all, as well as life,
and he very properly concluded, that if such a creature as
himself could thus win upon the confidence of the mother—
even though it had only lasted for a few days after marriage—
who might not aspire to win that of the child, that resembled
her so closely.

He therefore watched her most jealously, and cut her off
as much as possible from all intercourse with the outward

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER 216

world—even in the distant perspective of womanhood—the
idea of her marriage and a dower was almost death to him.
To part with any portion of his precious and ill-gotten gold
was like wringing the drops of his heart-blood upon the
thirsty sands. He at once became furious the moment he
discovered the intimacy and childish sympathy between the
boy Smith and his child. There was no knowing what such
a thing might come to; and thestarveling, whom he flattered
himself he had apprenticed out of charity, might prove the
viper upon his hearth. '

Such were the barbarities practised upon the helpless
orphan, that, although too manly himself ever to complain,
they became the talk of the neighborhood; and, while some
persons openly asserted that old Saunders was trying to kill
the boy by inches, others had determined to have him pre-
sented to the next Grand Inquest that sat in the county, for
barbarity and neglect of duty.

Before, however, this very necessary and proper step could
be taken, these persecutions had grown beyond any further
possibility of endurance, and in a fit of ungovernable despair,
the miserable child made up his rags into a little bundle, in
which he also secreted a few scraps of food, which little
Mattie, to whom he had made known his purpose, had ob-
tained for him. He then crept into her little room by the
window at night, and after weeping long, as if their little
hearts would burst—in each other’s arms—for each felt that
this parting was from the only friend they had in the world
—the poor boy comforted the tender mourner by assuring
her, in a tone of singular confidence, that when he got to be
a great man he was going to come back for her and make her
his little wife.

Even at the early age of thirteen the remarkable magnetic
power which afterwards distinguished the man, was developed
—for, in relating this occurrence himself in after-life, he said
that when he spoke this in a bold, confident tone, the little

216 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

trembler ceased to weep, and looking up into his face with a
smile, said—

“Well, then, you may run along, Billy—I’ll wait for you!”

He was off in an instant, and with her last pure kiss upon
his lips, he plied his little legs as fast as they could carry
him on the road which he had learned led to the capital of
the State. His heart was light, his spirit bold, and the great
world before him a shrouded mystery. He reached Raleigh
in about a week, begging his way after his own little store
gave out. He must have exhibited a great deal of audacity
and address, for a child of his age, to have succeeded in
getting through such a journey without being stopped by the
authorities somewhere on the way. However, it is not more
remarkable than many other of the events of his life.

After reaching Raleigh, his life was of course wretchedly
precarious for some time. He prowled about the kitchens of
the gentry at meal times, and lived upon such of the sciaps
of the tables as the negroes chose to throw to him in compas-
sion—at night he crawled into some shed or stable to shiver
in the straw till morning.

It happened that a kind-hearted old Judge of the Circuit
Court—Campbell by name—who was a very early riser, and
always went, the first thing, to see how the cattle and horses
came on, found one morning a feeble looking child, with
features ghastly and sharpened by hunger, lying in the
trough of his cow-house, which was a close shed around three
sides of the stable. He stopped, astonished, to gaze upon
him. The little fellow had not rags enough upon him to
cover his nakedness, and had drawn down some of the hay
from the manger above to cover him, and the whole pile
shook as he shuddered with the cold.

The old man gazed for a moment or two upon that troubled
sleep, the irregular breathing, broken so often with faint
moans, that they touched deeply, and as the tears sprang to
his eyes, he murmured—

9OLP BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 217

“This must not be so while I have a crust. Children must
not starve in such a country as this!’ So saying, he took the
child gently in his arms, and bore it into his house, where his
good old wife immediately took the dying orphan to her
bosom, and soon warmed it into life again; but with the
utmost exercise of her matronly skill, it was several days
before the exhausted little one could recover strength enough
to give any coherent account of himself.

Judge Campbell knew old Saunders well, and when he
heard the boy’s straight-forward story, he had every reason to
believe that it was true, every word of it. In the meantime ,
he had got up a great interest in this little waif and estray,
which it had pleased Providence to cast in his path; and as
the old couple had no children, but two daughters who were
married and comfortably settled, they finally determined to
submit to what seemed like a requisition upon them by the
Father of all on behalf of the fatherless, and adopted little
Smith into their family as a son.

The Circuits were some of them very large at that time, as
was especially the case with that of Judge Campbell’s. Soon
after this event he started on his round, and what was his
inexpressible delight to find the first case on the docket, in
the county which had the honor of owning old ‘Saunders for
a citizen, marked “ Commonwealth vs. Samuel Saunders, for
abducting, murdering, or otherwise unlawfully making away
with an indentured male child, known as William Smith,”
&e. &e.

The old man could scarcely contain his gravity upon the
bench. He immediately ordered up the case—ruled down all
quibbling attempts to obtain a postponement—and it was the
general remark among the lawyers, that the usually lenient
Judge was more severe and harsh this term than they had
ever known him to be before in twenty years upon the bench.

The case came on. “The Judge compelled the minutest
scrutiny of all the facts, and a most damning case was made

218 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

out from the evidence. His own lawyers were cowed, and
the pale and frightened wretch listened with ghastly face,
chattering teeth, and trembling hands to the Judge’s charge
to the jury, which sounded in its solemn tones and terrible
denunciations much more like a sentence of death than a
charge—when, as he was apparently about winding up with
positive instructions to the jury to find the prisoner guilty—
there was the sound of carriage wheels outside, and then a
sudden commotion in the court.

In a moment the Sheriff stepped forward and placed a slip
of paper in the hands of the Judge, who had paused at the
first sound, and now read the paper calmly over twice; then
deliberately throwing back his spectacles, he nodded assent
to the Sheriff, who, with a sort of half smile upon his face,
made his way out of the court room, and in a moment re-
turned, pushing through the crowd, bearing in his arms the
attenuated form of the missing boy, William Smith!

Such a thrill and murmur as ran through that court room,
—the old miser, who had at first sprung to his feet, con-
vulsively dropped, swooning, into his seat, for the child had
been artfully draped in white, and looked as if it might have
just come from the grave, and the hoary-headed villain really
did not know whether it was dead or alive,—for Mattie! ten-
der, timid, gentle Mattie!—had kept her little companion’s
counsel, as she had promised, in spite of all the threats of her
father, and all the terrors of a public trial. Indeed, poor
child, she did not know herself whether he was alive, and had
been almost crying her life away because, in her innocence,
she supposed ,the neighbors who had presented her father
must of course have known the fact of his murder before they
did it—he was in truth dead to her!

The scene that follows baffles description. Old Saunders
was borne from the court room in convulsjons, and shriek was
heard following shriek from him until the doors of the jail
closed upon him. The Judge then ran rapidly over the facts

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 219

of the case as nearly as he could without detailing his own
share in the plot,—which was entirely unnecessary, as his ob-
ject had been to further the cause of justice and humanity
by punishing this monster morally, if it could not be done
legally,—and then exhibiting the boy to the jury, declared the
bond of indenture to be forfeited, and that Saunders should
be found in costs of suit, and compelled to give security for
the support and education of the boy until he was eighteen.

Such was the eventful opening of the public career of
“Billy,” as poor Mattie called him. When we next hear of
him he was a gay, voluble, dashing young lawyer, successful
in his first case, and indeed in almost every other to which
he put his hand. The old Judge, his adopted father, had
retired from the bench upon a handsome competency, and
though now very decrepid, could not resist the gratification
of listening to the forensic triumphs of his “pet nursling of
the cow-troughs,” as he used to term William, humorously.
Whenever William had an interesting case on hand, the old
man’s carriage was invariably seen to roll up to the court
house door, and he to hobble in on crutches, when the duti-
ful young man was instantly at his side to assist him up the
accustomed steps to the old accustomed chair, which still held
its place for his occasional accommodation. After seeing him
comfortably seated,.and his gouty feet adjusted with scrupulous
care, would return with redoubled energy to his case.

It was always noticed that when the venerable ex-judge
was present, the face of the young lawyer flushed with anxious
excitement, and then he made his very happiest efforts, and
carrying everything before him by the impetuous vehemence
of his oratory, never lost a case ; and the father and patron,
in one, would sit with half closed eyes, in a sort of rapt
ecstacy of enjoyment, while his lips occasionally moved in
unconscious approval as the young man let off his happier
its. Smith soon became exceedingly popular, and his clients
learned to avail their causes of this noble trait of Smith, in

220 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

something of the same spirit of the wretches who made for-
tunes off of the vice of poor George Moreland. When a new
picture was to be wrung from their victim, they came to him
with a pittance of ready gold in one hand and a brandy bottle
in the other; and as the latter was always the more potent
of the two, they made up the difference due in gold, in cheap
and villainous brandy.

Smith, like Moreland, was too lazy to work under the ordi-
nary stimulus of money, for which he never could be made to
care, and when they found out this “beautiful weakness,” as
the mercenary knaves were in the habit of terming it, they
never failed, when he was to speak on a doubtful case where
there was much at stake, to have the old man informed of the
day and hour, and thus drag him forth, well or ill—for go he
would,—to act as a sort of spiritual brandy bottle upon his
adopted son. They knew well that Smith would sooner lose his
right arm than make a failure in a legal argument before his
beloved and venerated patron. What is still more strange,
neither Smith nor the old judge ever suspected this infamous
game, although it was regularly practised upon them, until the
death of the latter, and was well known to every one about
the courts.

The Judge lived just long enough to bless the son of his
adoption and his pride, who had been elected to the Assembly
of the Province the very year he came of lawful age. The
good man then lay down in peace to die, for now he had seen
the fruition of his hope. He left his property divided equally
between his two daughters and the adopted son. He was soon
followed by his faithful dame, and now the young orphan stood
once more alone in the world. Not entirely alone, spiritually,
either, for Mattie was still steadfast to her childish affection,
and would listen to no suitors that came. To be sure, had she
been disposed to coquetry, the indulgence would have been
something difficult, for old Saunders became more and more
miserly as he grew older, and more watchful of his daughter.

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 2921

William and she had, however, in spite of his vigilance,
managed, through the good offices of a relation of Mattie’s,
who had learned to admire Smith, and had always loved
Mattie, to keep up a sort of broken correspondence by letter,
and even to obtain an occasional interview, which was sufli-
cient, during the long period I have passed over, to keep
always bright and unbroken the links of that subtle chain
which seems ‘from the first gradually binding their lives more
inseparably in one.

Smith, though considered a rising young mar. with a good
fortune already in hand, and every prospect of great honors
and a greater fortune before him, and therefore, of course,
greatly sought after by the highest ladies of the land, yet
never for one moment did he falter or flinch in allegiance to
his gentle mistress with the chubby fingers! When he came
to realize that it was really love that he bore her, he felt at
once the serenity of entire content ; and that love was enough
for him, it filled his being and he asked no other. The sub-
ject was never mentioned between them until after the death
of his adopted parents, for William seems to have always felt
as if his first duty was to them and gratitude,—love and.
himself afterwards.

He was now in such circumstances as permitted him to
think of marriage; as it was utterly hopeless to expect the
consent of the miserly old Saunders, he took the matter in
his own hands, and in defiance married the sweet Mattie, who
was now of age, almost under his eyes, and leaving him to
rave, blaspheme and tear his hair at his own leisure, quietly
installed his bride as mistress of the old town mansion left
him by the Judge. Mattie proved a thrifty and a tender
wife, and bore him sons and daughters, comely to look upon,
and that gladdened their father’s heart.

He, in the meantime, grew apace in manly honors, and at
the time of the Declaration of Independence, was forty-five

922 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

years of age, and one of the leading men, in a quiet way, of
the patriot party.

Since his marriage, and up to this time, Smith’s character
seemed to have undergone a change, which was specially re-
marked by those who had watched his entrance upon public
life. Up to the time of his marriage he had exhibited the
most recklessly spendthrift disposition; although enjoying a
lucrative practice, yet it was observed that he always wanted
money. He had no such apparent habits of extravagance as
could account for such expenditure, so that he had the full
benefit of all sorts of dark hints and vague surmises, not one
of which was in the neighborhood of true.

There were a few who knew him better, who could have
told how the base vultures and harpies that always flock
around where there is a great heart to be torn and fed upon,
regularly fleeced him of more than half the dues for his ser-
vices, by some servile and whining appeal to his well known
magnanimity, and singular disregard of gold. He was sys-
tematically victimized by a whole flock of such foul birds,
who chuckled over the thought that they were gulling the
smart young lawyer; a great mistake !—for his intuition of
character and motive was as quick as lightning.

His keen, gray eye was never at fault; and he gave them
what they cringed for out of contemptuous disgust for the
creatures and the filthy god they worshipped. He loathed
the one as much as the other, and was equally anxious to get
rid of both. His charities were just as reckless, though it
began soon to be found that he was rather a dangerous per-
son to task the patience of too far.

From the day he married Mattie he became a cautious,
saving man; and the hungry wretches that had battened upon
his lofty generosity, or rather, scorn, were soon scattered in
dismay before the stern brow and powerful arm that hurled
them right and left from his path. He had Mattie, beloved

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 223

Mattie, to provide for now, and her precious little ones;
there was to be no more trifling. He became a rigid econo-
mist, or rather, Mattie economized for him, and all his ex-
penditures were left entirely to her frugal and patient
housewifery. He neither gave nor spent now without first
taking counsel of his heart-elected monitress, and how skill-
fully she managed may be shown in the fact that in twenty
years after their marriage Smith was accounted one of the
wealthiest men in the province. With this change came
another, which was accounted quite as droll by the wiscacres.
As a young man, he had shown great ambition for political
distinction, his prospects were extremely flattering, but he
withdrew after serving one term,-and steadily refused ever
afterwards to be drawn into public life again.

But now that the great struggle for freedom was fairly
entered upon, the William Smith of twenty-five was waked
up again suddenly, after having slept the charmed sleep of
domestic love and happiness for twenty years. Now again
his contempt foragold, but as a medium of good, a mechanical
means, exhibited itself as strikingly, but in a more rational
and consistent manner than before; now his carefully hoarded
wealth flowed like water, and the gentle Mattie saw it go and
said never a word nor shed a tear. So long as her beloved
was spared to her the gold might go. They had no right to it
when the blessed Congress and brave army needed it. They
had no right to keep William selfishly at home with them, to
sleep in a warm bed when so many of our brave people were
tracking the snows with the blood of their bare feet, and when
General Washington himself was glad to sleep upon a snow
bank with only his cloak for covering. “Let the gold go!
let the gold go!” the brave woman was wont to say,—“it
is all for liberty, and the children will be better for that
than for all the wealth of the province!’ and the gold
did go!

Aye, there was no keeping back of: the tribute there!

224 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

William Smith had always exhibited a remarkable disinclina-
tion for scenes of bloodshed, considering the character of the
times. He did not, even now, join the patriot army; but, as
the chief of the Vigilance Committee, did far better service with
his prompt sagacity and profuse liberality than he could
probably have done in the field. We cannot follow him
through the details of the acts of this noblest period of his
career; suffice to say, that when the war ended in our dear-
bought independence,—he first took time to look upon the
condition of his own affairs; the survey exhibited ‘himself to
to himself a beggar /

Everything had been swallowed up in the vortex, except
some few fragments of landed estate; and they had only been
spared him because nothing could be raised on them in such
troublous times. He smiled upon Mattie as he looked around
proudly upon five handsome, manly boys and three daughters,
all pleasant variations upon her, and patting her still fresh
cheek, said gaily,—

“ Missus,—it’s all gone !—I am proud of the way it went
—we’ve gained our holy cause,—I am content !—what say
you, woman ?”

“Dear Billy, what should I say!—Am I not proud of it
as you!”

“Well, missus, neighbor Daniel Boone has got back from
Kan-tuck-ee, across the mountains, as he calls it. He says
it’s a great country, greater and more beautiful than any on
this side the Alleghanies,—and Daniel’s a reliable man, you
know !—and that plenty of splendid land is to be had for the
settling and defending it; our boys are good riflemen, —
what say you, Mattie?”

Mattie turned a, little pale, and laid her cheek against that
of her husband, but answered in a firm, round voice,—

“T am ready, Billy, to follow you!”

And this is all that was said between them ; it was settled!

This was a few years afte the time that Daniel Boone and

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 225

(his brother came in for their wives and families. The news of

his wonderful discoveries had flown like wildfire throughout
Virginia and North Carolina, i in both of which States he was
well known. It had caused a great and general ferment
among all bold and reckless spirits in the old States, as well
those of the border, as those whom a long war had unfitted
for any other than a life of adventure.. Various companies
had been fitted out in different directions who had followed
the return of the Boones. Settlements had been formed—
forts built—and even municipal regulations commenced.

The place of. general rendezvous was across the mountains,
in what was called Powell’s Valley, and the settlement on
Clinch river was the Frontier fort. The emigrants assembled
in Powell’s Valley in the Spring of 1784, and when all col-
lected, started on their long journey. Among them was the
family of William Smith. He had converted all that was left
him into live stock, implements, &c. Himself and his whole
family—Mattie and the girls included—were in the highest
spirits in view of the novelty and wild loveliness of the scene
they were to traverse.

The emigrants numbered fifty souls, the great majority of
them women and children. The journey, as they were pre-
pared to expect, proved a rough and tedious one, but they
saw nothing of Indians, as yet. They arrived on the banks
of the Licking river in the ordinary time. Harrod, who had
several years since built the fort where Harrodsburg stands,
was now returning from a visit to Virginia; and he, with
several other of the principal men, Smith among them, left
their families, as they supposed, with a sufficient guard in
camp, and pushed forward to find Boone, at either Harrods-
burg or Boonesborough, and bring back some supplies.

Alas, for that parting! when they returned six days after-
wards, as the day was breaking, having accomplished the
object of their mission, they found the camp just broken up, and
following on the scattered trail, caught up with the frightened

15.

9298 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

remnant of the emigrants, in full retreat back for the settle-
ments on Clinch river. :

“Where is my wife? and where are my children?” je
manded Smith, in a cold, stern tone, of the person under
whose command the camp had been left.

“You will find them where you left them! Ask the Shawa-
nees; they can tell you the rest.”

“You have neglected your trust, and they are murdered,”
Smith replied, in a deliberate but trembling voice.

“And yet we find you retreating !—where is your man-
hood, wretch! coward!” he shrieked, as he sprang at the
throat of the man, and hurled him to the ground with such
furious violence that the blood gushed from his nose and
mouth, and he was thought for a long time to be dying.
Without pausing an instant to see what he had done, the
unfortunate man turned, and with the speed of the wild deer,
fled back to the deserted camp.

Several hours subsequent, Harrod and some others returned
to look after the dead, and they found Smith stretched upon
the bodies of Mattie and the children, with his arms spread
in the endeavor to clasp them all in one embrace. He looked
up with tearless eyes, and smiling with a terrible serenity,
took the spade from the hand of the nearest person, and com-
menced digging a grave for them. The sturdy men around,
moved and awed by the speechless silence with which he pro-
ceeded, offered in low whispers to assist him. He motioned
them solemnly away, and would not be aided. He thus
worked on for hours, until a grave wide enough and deep
encugh had been hollowed—then reaching the cold form of
Mattie from the spot where it lay, he clasped it to his breast
a moment—held it off for one long, fixed gaze—pressed
those dear lips; and laid her gently down to rest. He then
placed her first-born son upon her right side, and as he saw
the frown of desperate battle’ still on his fair young brow,
and the shattered rifle clutched in the grip of death, he smiled

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 227

a strange and terrible smile. Her youngest born he lay next
her heart, and to each, as he disposed the stiffening form in
order, he gave the last embrace and farewell kiss. This done
he stood on the side of the grave for some moments, gazing
silently down upon the home, the earthly heaven he had lost,
and then, without a word or groan, proceeded to fill up the
grave. His comrades waited until he had finished, and had
heaped a pile of stones to mark the place. They expected
him to return with them now to the new camp which had
been formed. He, however, took up his rifle, waved his hand
in solemn adieu, and without speaking, disappeared on the
trail of the Shawanees.

Little was generally known, and less said about Smith,
from the time of this disappearance. It was generally be-
lieved that Booné, Harrod, and a few others, knew more
of him than they chose to tell; the most that could be got
out of any one concerning him, was, a significant touch of
the forehead and shake of the head. Boone, in particular,
was believed to have frequent interviews with him, as he
would take with him at such suspected times a double supply
of powder and lead.

For a year or two the mystery of his solitary life received
no elucidation whatever, until a Shawanee, having been made
captive by the people of Boones’ Fort, they heard from him
a terrible story of an Evil Demon that had been haunting the

¢ war-path of the Shawanees for nearly two years, and that
from the hunting-trail and war-path together, more than
thirty of their best braves, including several chiefs, had dis-
appeared. The Shawanees believed that the Great Spirit
was angry with them, and had sent a’ Medicine Spirit to
punish them. They were nearly determined on this account
to leave their hunting-grounds in Kan-tuck-ee forever. When
questioned as to whether they had ever got sight of this Medi-
cine, the answer was—that they had never seen it distinctly,
but that of late their young men had pursued it often, and

928 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

always came back with some of their number missing. They
had never been able to overtake, or even to approach the
mysterious and terrible Medicine Spirit.

After this report got abroad, men began to mention the
name of Bill Smith again—but it was with a feeling of unac-
countable dread, and in low voices that they spoke. The
timidity and uncertain movements of desultory attack which
began to characterize the warfare of the Shawanees, once the
best organized and most formidable of the tribes, came now
to attract attention, too. But all conjecture was set to rest,
when, after awhile, Smith was seen to make his appear-
ance at the Forts occasionally—but this was only when the
Shawanees were known to be engaged ina foray. He usually
came in ahead of the Indians, or after some unaccountable
fashion, suddenly appeared in the midst of a battle with them.

He was at the Blue Lick, at the Raisin, threw himself into
Brian’s Fort when it was stormed; and, indeed, he was known
to have been in nearly all the principal battles in which
Boone was present.

He was never heard to speak to any one—he came without
a greeting and went without farewell. He was regarded with
a curious feeling of dread and respect by the Border people,
none of whom ever ventured to address a word to him, The
Shawanees were driven first across the Kan-tuck-ee River,
then across the Green River.

Bill Smith disappeared, and never crossed Green River
again; they thought towards the North that he must finally
have fallen a sacrifice to his monomania of vengeance. It
will be remembered by what accident I found his grave, and
heard from old Uncle Jake Latham something with regard to
his latter years.

After seeing the last canoe of the Shawanees lauriched
upon the Ohio, and sending a death-messenger in farewell
after it, the old man had built him a hut in the most inacces-
sible part of the Green River Hills, and there the remainder

OLD BILL SMITH, THE SILENT HUNTER. 229

of his days were spent in solitary quiet. He hunted just
enough to furnish him with food, and powder and shot—never
went near any one but Uncle Jake, who-made his purchases
for him; and at the age of eighty-eight was found dead in
his cabin. He seemed sleeping calmly, with a serene smile
still upon his face, such as might have greeted his Mattie
above, waiting for him. His face in death alone had lost
that still and fearful expression of astonied ferocity, which
was said never to have left it from the time of the death
of Mattie and his children. Monomaniacs are proverbially
known for the frequently marvellous cunning displayed by
. them in bringing about the accomplishment of the one object,
_ which is the single thought of their lives.

“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord!” Who, at this time,
in weighing the acts of this remarkable man, while wasting
under the long fever of his terrible vengeance, shall venture
to forget, “Judge not, that ye be not judged !”

It was ever thus that our Fathers of the Dark and Bloody
Ground were tried !

CHAPTER IX.

THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY.
JAMES HARROD OF HARRODSBURG.

AFTER all the bombast of hero worshipers, it is astonishing
how little it takes to make a real hero! Like many of those
important discoveries in mechanics, which have revolutionized
the wor.d, the combinations are so simple, that whe nmen come
to realize them, the general exclamation is, ‘Why, pshaw, I
could have done that myself!’ No doubt such wiseacres

could have done it themselves, but somehow, they didn’t do
231

282 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

it! and what renders the parallel still more complete is, that
when the humble mechanician has accomplished the work, has
chained an element with a silken thread, he looks upon the
mighty achievement as nothing, and is bowed down with
shame that men should so wonder at a thing so plain.

Your true hero never understands why men should marvel
that he has only done his duty, and the plaudits of the crowd
are to him only a heart sickening commentary upon its own
unworthiness. “Why should they applaud him for only acting
like aman? Had they expected him to act like a brute, and
therefore been surprised into raptures? Or was it that they
were conscious that they would have acted like brutes them-
selves under the same circumstances ?

The world may say what it may of the natural equality of
mankind, but there is often more in one large brain and large
heart than in a whole nation. It is not by any means, learn-
ing, or station, or honors that constitutes this greatness ;
these are but the tinsel, the appliances, the outward show,—
in a word,—

‘¢The man’s the man for a’ that;”

and it was indeed among the early scenes of the settlement
of Kentucky, that the fine gold was separated and that the
man stood forth in the nude grandeur of the heroic virtues.

There was nothing of the pomp and circumstance here of
adventitious place, to bolster up padded and pretentious no-
bility. State was trampled in the bloody mire of struggle,
and all regalia, but such as nature had bestowed, turned into
plough-lines and significant halters

The contest here was hand to hand, and foot to foot, with
foes too stern and real for a silken diplomate to soothe. In
his unhoused wild condition, the strong man wrestled with
the panther for 1ts cave, and took its dappled hide for cover-
ing. Starched ruffs and white gloves would have served ill
in such a battle. The death-hug, when the white man and

JAMES HanROD, OF HARRODSBURG. 233

the red:man met, would have poorly become the voluptuous
court, and the bleak, wintry winds would scarce have put a
shirt on warm.

There was no dodging here, the axe was first swung by
brawny arms, and then a shelter rose; and, before no dainty
strength that fed on sylabubs, would those tall forests bow,
that bread might grow! No shaky nerve, or eye dulled in
the sickly glare of show, could hold the heavy rifle in a vice-

‘like grasp, and guide it clear and sure as death’s own arrow
flies.

Here action was eloquence, with deeds for words, and the
glib and oily art-of demagogues learns no such language;
the axe spoke louder than the honied phrase; and forests,
thundering in their fall, rolled out the grandest sentences:
the rifle cracked the sharpest jokes, and staggering buffaloes
roared bathos best upon the bloody plain!

One of those men of nature, whose large brain and large
heart, hard hands and giant thews, best fitted them to cope in
mastery with such conditions, was James Harrod, the founder
of Harrodsburg, Kentucky, and one of the noblest of the
early companions of Boone.

Harrod was one of those persons who make their appear-
ance in the world much as an oak tree comes into it: nobody
hears it grow, sees it grow, or knows that it is, and has a
being until suddenly a people look up and’ find themselves
sheltered beneath its boughs, and nourished by the nuts it
rains in benediction upon their heads.

So little was known of the youth James Harrod, that the
histories of that time do not even name the colony from whence
he came, nor even the precise year in which he emigrated;
they only know that he came early with Boone, was most
probably a Virginian, went back to that State and returned
to Kentucky in 1774; joined Colonel Lewis and his follow-
ers on the way, and was with them in the battle at the mouth
of the Kenhawa, and that in the next year he settled himself

234 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

on the site of the present town of Harrodsburg. This is
about the extent of the chronology bearing upon that early
period of his history.

But for years before this period the name of the stalwart
young hunter was familiar along the borders, and associated
with that of Boone in many a feat of self-denying hardihood
and generous chivalry. He was tall, strong, modest and
simple. He had read no book but that of nature, knew no
art but wood-craft, hated nothing on earth but an Indian and
a pole-cat, and never said, “Boys, you do it!” but, “Boys,
come on!” His rifle was the longest, the heaviest and the
surest ; his calm, frank eye was never at a fault to mark the:
distant game, to meet the gaze of deadly foe, or smile back
truth to friend. His arm, resistless, as his tongue was slow.
How can you make a hero out of a block so rough as this?
We had nothing to do with the manufacture, God made him
a hero, if he was one!

The unwritten history of that time tells many a touching
narrative of the deeds of this young hunter; his skill on the
war-trail, his vigilance and his wonderful powers of endurance,
soon made him one of the chief supports of the feeble and shat-
tered settlements, which then, in the name of God and civi-
lization, dared presume to hold and occupy this wide land,
which for its richness and its beauty had for many centuries
been the golden apple of dispute between powerful tribes of
savages, on the North and the South. The hardiness and
simplicity of his habits, his fresh and unbroken constitution,
his great frame, endowed with a natural strength remarkable,
everywhere gave him supremacy even over those border sons
of Anak, among whom he seemed to move as peer.

Such were his habits of incessant activity, and so cool his
self-reliance, that he never waited for companions, on the
longest and most dangerous of his expeditions. He would often
be gone for weeks, and even months together, no one knew
whither, or for what end, and the first thing heard of him

JAMES HARROD, OF HARRODSBURG. 235

would be his sudden appearance, to put the settlements on
their guard against the approach of some Indian war-party.
During these long absences his industry was untiring; all the
game that he could kill was cured and stored, after the man-
ner of the Indians, beyond the reach of wild beasts, or even
of the sagacity of his teachers. To these stores he couil
resort at any time of scarcity, for supplies for the block-
houses.

His knowledge of Indian life, and confidence, was such that
he frequently continued to hunt alone, when he knew well,
by the signs around him, that Indians were hunting on the
same ground. The proud hunter would not give way, but
took the chances with his red foe.

On one such occasion he had perceived several fine deer,
grouped, feeding, in a small open glade. in the forest, near
the Kentucky river. He had approached them with much
precaution, for a shot, and having gained the desired point,
was kneeling behind a tree, and in the act of raising his rifle
to take aim, when the buck of the herd lifted its head sud-
denly, and uttered the peculiar shrill whistle which indicates
that they have either seen or smelt danger.

Harrod was too prompt a woodsman not to perceive in-
stantly, from the direction in which the deer turned its
head, that there was another foe present than himself. He
remained motionless, holding his breath, when, at the sharp
crack of a rifle from the opposite side of the glade, the startled
buck sprang into the air and fell dead.

The report of Harrod’s rifle followed sc instantly that it
seemed a mere prolongation of the first sound; a nobler
quarry bit the dust, the ball of the back-woodsman met the
proud heart of a Shawanee chief, who had leaned forward
from his covert to fire. Harrod had known for several days
that there was a hunting-party of Shawanees in the neighbor-
hood. ;

At another time his own wary game was nearly played

236 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

successfully upon himself. He was on a great buffalo trail,
leading to the Blue Licks. He had been hunting for several
days with great success, and this time had seen no Indian
sign, and was not aware that any had come down. He had
wounded a large bull that had left the herd, and stood at bay
several miles distant, in a thick wood; Harrod was obliged
to approach it with great precaution, for the animal was
now very dangerous, as is always the case when it is badly
wounded.

He had gained his position, and: when in the very act of
firing, caught glimpse of a warrior taking aim at him from
behind a tree. He fired, for it was too late to help that, but
in the same instant dropped as if killed. The warrior fired,
of course, and his ball made a hole through the wolf-skin cap
of Harrod as hefell. He laid perfectly still, while the Indian,
after stopping to load his rifle, as they always do before leaving
cover, now approached him to get his scalp, but did so with
characteristic wariness, leaping from tree to tree; he came
near, and seeing that the body lay perfectly still, sprang for-
ward, scalping-knife in hand, but as he stooped to grasp the
scalp-lock, quick as lightning the long and powerful arms of
Harrod were clasped about his neck, and with the sudden
throe of a \aking panther, the warrior was crushed in his
herculean hug, and writhed helpless on the ground beneath
him.

There is yet another anecdote of his individual prowess,
witk something of the same character as those given above,
which, although a household story in Kentucky, is not so
well known elsewhere.

The Shawanees had made several attacks upon Boone’s
station, against which settlement they had always expressed
the bitterest animosity, on account, no doubt, of its having
been the first white settlement held in the country. Boone
was absent at the Licks, with a great part of the men of the
station, making salt; the prowling parties of Indians had

JAMES HARROD, OF HARRODSBURG. 237

killed their cattle, driven in their hunting-parties, and so
shortene their supplies of meat, that the little garrison was
reduced to great straits.

_At this juncture Harrod made his appearance unexpectedly,
on his return from one of his long expeditions. Finding the
condition of things, he first proposed to some of the remain-
ing men, that they should accompany him to one of the nearest
of his depots of meat. The risk was very great; and Harrod
perceiving from the hesitation, that the men were not willing
to go, left the station that night alone, telling the women to
be of good cheer, that he would bring them back meat.

He found game very shy in the morning, and as there was
plenty of Indian sign about, he determined to have the first
meat he could get, and return with it as soon as possible
to the relief of the station. He came in sight of a small
herd of deer, which were moving as if they had been lately
startled, and were still on the look out; this caused him to
use great circumspection. It was not long before he came
across signs, which induced him to think that there were
several Indians close at hand. The daring hunter cared
nothins for the odds, but coolly resolved to have one of those
deer or lose a scalp, and of the latter there surely seemed to
be a great likelihood.

Tis would have been foolhardiness with any other man,
but with Harrod it was entirely a matter of course. He had
never turned aside from his path for the red man, nor did he
ever intend to do so. He claimed those hunting-grounds,
too, and thcse deer were his, if he could win them, and his
he intended they should be.

His circumspection was not a little increased on perceiving
the marks of the mocassin on the trail of the deer. These
were before him, and he might come upon them at any
moment. ‘This did not deter him, for he saw at a glance his
advantage, as he was on the look-out for them, while they
were on the look-out for the deer, and, evidently from the

238 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

carelessness of the sign they left, entirely unconscious of his
proximity. He had followed on in this manner for several
miles, taking care to expose his body as little as possible, and
indeed, advancing from tree to tree all the time, as if ina
bush fight.

The sudden whistle of a deer, followed instantly by the
ring of two rifles close on his left, gave him warning that the
time for business had come. The Indians kept close, and as
he was peeping cautiously round a tree, endeavoring to get a
sight of them, a rifle ball from the right whizzed through the
heavy mass of black hair that fell down over his shoulders,
stinging his neck sharply as it grazed past. He crouched
instantly, and all was as still as death for a long time, for
the two on the left had taken the hint, and lay close, while
the Indian on the right did the same, while he reloaded and
watched for another chance.

Here was a fix certainly for any common man, beleaguered
on two sides, and it might be on every side for all he could
tell. But from what is known of Harrod’s character, I have
no doubt he enjoyed the fix; for it was just such a oné as
he delighted to get himself into, for the pleasure of getting
himself out again.

The foot of the tree at which he crouched was surrounded
by bushes or shrubs about three feet high, and he was obliged
to lift his head above these before he could fire. He wore
his famous wolf-skin cap, as usual; and after waiting till he
was convinced that there was no chance of getting a sight of
the cautious foe, he placed it upon the muzzle of his rifle,
and, after some prefatory manceuvring among the shrubs, to
show that he was getting restless, gradually and cautiously
elevated the cap.

The ring of the three rifles was almost simultaneous, as it
rose a little above the bushes, and before the echoes had died
away, the death-shriek of the warrior on the right followed
thera into the shadows. Harrod lay still for a long time

JAMES HARROD, OF HARRODSBURG. 239

again before he concluded to try the manoeuvre over; the cap
was cautiously elevated again, and this time drew but one
fire, for the Indians had taken warning. It effected all that
Harrod required, however, for it disclosed the exact position
of these two. He had only known the direction before, but
not the position, as his eyes had been occupied in watching
the one on the right—in less than half a minute, the Indian
who had fired, exposed part of his body in sending home his
rod. Harrod shot him through the heart. .

The other Indian commenced a rapid retreat. He got off,
but Harrod thought he carried a third ball with him. They
had been entirely deceived by the manceuvre of the cap, and
the survivor was clearly of the opinion, that, as they had killed
two, there must be several white men there yet. Harrod pro-
ceeded at his leisure to dress the two deer they had brought
down, and that night entered the station, to the great joy of
all, with a full load of meat.

The benevolence of Harrod seems to have been equal to
his energy. His hut, one of the first erected in the country,
became at once the nucleus of a station—thither the sur-
veyors, the speculators, the hunters and emigrants flocked
for sheiter and protection, and the names of Harrodsburg and
Boonesborough became the first identified in the minds of
weary adventurers of every grade, to this dangerous region,
with the prospect of rest and the hope of security. Other
huts had rapidly gone up around his, until more secure de-
fences had become necessary, and a fort was built.

Thus, under the shelter of these two names, Boone and
Harrod, the permanent occupation of Kentucky by the white
race commenced.

These men, though both comparatively young, seem to
have reproduced in themselves perfectly the primitive type
of the ancient patriarchal character, which was so wach
needed in the elementary condition of the society they were
organizing. All new comers were their children—they were

240 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

received as such with open arms, they were watched over,
guarded and guided, until they learned to stand alone and
take care of themselves, and, what was still more remarkable,
were allowed, without a murmur or a thought, to avail them-
selves of nearly all.of the extraordinary labors and sufferings
of their noble and unselfish guardians.

For example, Boone, who might, as I mentioned before,
have been the richest man in the whole West, had he been as
grasping as he was good and wise, entered no land, and died
in wandering poverty, with no claim to one spot in that para-
dise into which he had led his countrymen. Harrod exhibited
the same unselfish traits, as we shall see.

When a new settler came, he inquired for a locality; Har-
rod’s knowledge of the surrounding country was at his ser-
vice; he shouldered his axe, and helped the new comer run
up a hut—the family out of meat, Harrod, by some necro-
mancy peculiar to himself, had found it out. He was off to the
woods, and soon a fine deer, or fat bear, or quarters of a
buffalo, was placed at their disposal. Their horses had
strayed in the range, with which the husband was not yet
familiar, and no ploughing could be done—Harrod’s incessant
activity has made the discovery in passing, that something
was wrong in the new clearing—his frank and manly voice is
heard shouting from the fence, “ Hilloa, Jones! What's the
matter? No ploughing done yet, I see! Nothin’ wrong, I
hope?”

“Well, yes!—the old horse been gone these five days—
can’t find him down thar in that cane-brake range—been lost
myself already two whole days in looking for him, and I’ve
jest about gin it up.”

“Never mind, Jones, you'll get used to that range some-
time before long—that horse of your’n is a blood-bay, aint
he ?”

**Yes—snip down the nose, and left hind foot white—collar
marked bad on the shoulders.”

JAMES HARROD, OF HARRODSBURG. 241

“Good morning, Jones!”

A few hours afterwards, Jones’ horse, with his snip on his
nose, is quietly driven up to the fence and turned in—James
Harrod walks on.

News comes into the station that the Indians have attacked
the house of a settler, five miles distant, and murdered all the
family but the two daughters, whom they are hurrying off to
a brutal and perilous captivity—the war-cry of Harrod is
instantly heard. '

“Come, boys! come, boys! we must catch those rascals—
we can’t spare our girls !”

While his dark complexion glows with enthusiasm, and his
black eye flames again—the men know their leader, for he is
off without them in a moment, and they are soon ready.

The swift and tireless pursuit, the wary approach to the
camp, the night attack, with its short, fierce struggle, the
rescue, the return, were all the not unusual incidents of their
wild life.

In the capacity of spy, guide or ranger captain, his excur-
sions into the Indian country were very daring and frequent.
There was no enterprise too audacious for his enthusiasm,
none requiring patience, dexterity, endurance of hunger,
thirst and fatigue, too serious for his cool self-reliance to.
undertake, and that most frequently alone. He avoided,
when possible, having other men with him, for, -he said, they
always complained of the hardships or the dangers before the
fun was fairly commenced with him, and therefore it cost him
more trouble to take care of them, than to do all there was
to be done himself, twice over. This extraordinary love of
solitary adventure was one of the marked characteristics
of James Harrod. Indeed, the Indians christened him the
“Tone Long-Knife,” and dreaded his mysterious prowess
very greatly.

He on several occasions entered their villages in the night
to ascertain their plans; a once, when discovered by a

242 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

young warrior, struck him to the earth with his huge fist,
and then threw himself into the neighboring forest, not
though without being seen and pursued; twenty or thirty
warriors followed him, and_so close were they upon his heels
at the start, that their rifle balls showered like hail about
him.

The swiftness of Indian runners has passed into a proverb,
but they had a man before them more swift and tireless than
they. He gained so much upon them that by the time they
reached the Miami, which was ten miles distant, there were
only three warriors who seemed to be continuing the chase.

Harrod swam the river without hesitation; as he reached
the opposite bank they came up, and fired at him as he climbed
the bank; the river was wide here, and the balls fell short.
Ife now took a tree upon the edge of the forest, and removing
the water-proof cover of deer’s bladder from the lock of his
rifle, prepared for them, should they attempt to cross the
river. The Indians hesitated a moment, for it had now been
some time full daylight, and they seemed to have some appre-
hension that he might make a stand, but hearing at this in-
stant the coming yells of those who had fallen behind, they
replicd, and plunged into the stream.

Harrod waited until they were more than half across, when
at the crack of his rifle, the foremost sank; the other two
paused, then turned to go back, but before they could get out
of range, he wounded a second desperately, who gave himself
up to the current and was swept down. The third, by a
series of rapid dives, like the manceuvres of a wounded wild
duck, succeeded in baffling the aim of Harrod, even, and got
out of range.

Harrod heard the furious howl of the main body of his out-
witted pursuers, who had reached the river as he was making
off again through the forest; the chase was not continued
further.

What adds not a little to the dramatic interest of this ad-

JAMES HARROD, OF HARRODSBURG. 243

venture, is, that when, two hours afterward, Harrod struck
the bank of the Miami again, he saw upon a pile of drift
wood, which had collected at the mouth of one of the small
tributaries of the stream, some living object, which he took
for a large turtle glistening in the sun, as he struggled to
drag his unwieldy body upon the logs to bask.

He stopped to gaze; and imagine his astonishment, when
he saw a, tall Indian drag his body slowly from the water, and
finally seat himself upon the logs. He had lost his gun, and
commenced endeavoring to stifle the bleeding from a bullet
wound in his shoulder. Harrod knew that it was the second
Indian he had shot, and who had most probably reached one of
the pieces of drift wood of which the swollen river was at pre-
sent full, and sustained himself: by it all this distance, badly
wounded as he was.

Here was a trial for such a man as Harrod; his foe was
wounded and helpless; take him prisoner he feared would be
impossible, and letting him escape he felt to be contrary to
his duty to his own people. He thought within himself some
little time before deciding upon his course, for shoot the poor
wretch he could not.

His determination formed, he made a wide circuit, and
crept cautiously upon the wounded warrior from behind; a
large tree stood close to the drift, which being gained, Harrod
laid down his gun, then suddenly stepping into full view from
behind the tree, raised his hands to show that he was un-
armed.

“Uguh!” grunted the astonished warrior, making a sudden
movement as if to plunge into the water again. Harrod placed
hig hand upon his heart, spoke two words in the Shawanee
tongue, when the Indian paused, and looking at him a moment
earnestly, bowed his head in token of submission. Harrod
helped him to the bank, tore his own shirt and bound up thé
wound with cooling herbs; and then, as he found the savage
unable to walk, threw him across his broad shoulders, and bore

244 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

him, not to the station, but to a cave which he used a3.
une of his places of deposit. No one knew of the existence
of this hiding-place but himself, and he had discovered it by
the accident of having driven a wounded bear into it.

The entrance was very small and covered with briars;
pushing these aside, you looked down into what seemed a
deep well; when the eye became accustomed to the darkness,
you could gradually discover a dry, white bottom. Harrod
had descended into it by means of a pole ladder which he had
let down; this ladder, which is essentially a frontier con-
trivance, consists merely of a stout sapling, which is thick
set with limbs; the sapling being cut down, the limbs are
chopped off within six inches from the trunk, thus leaving
excellent foothold to climb by.

When you reached the bottom, which was about twelve fect
below the surface, you found yourself in a small, but irregularly
shaped room, the ceiling of which was hung with many beau-
tiful and fantastic stalactites, from among which, and at the
farther extremity of the room, a small, clear stream, poured
steadily down into a white, round basin, which it had worn
into the solid limestone.

The little stream, after passing across the length of the
chamber, found vent through a dark hole in the wall, about
large enough to admit a man, crawling in on his hands and
knees. Here, over the whitest sand, it escaped into unknown
caverns beyond. From the point of every stalactite on the
ceiling a drop of water fell slowly upon stalactites rising to
meet them, many of which had assumed the most extraordi-
nary shapes. About twelve feet square of the ceiling and
floor of this singular subterranean chamber was as dry a8
tinder.

I am thus particular in describing this cave, having once
visited it, and been singularly impressed with the quaint
peculiarities of the place. Among other things, the steady
dropping of the water upon the white and ringing stalactites,

JAMES HARROD, OF HARRODSBURG. 245

formed a sort of low harmonicon, the sweetness of which I~
shall never forget. \

In this strange hiding-place, as the story goes, Harrod con-
cealed his wounded foe, for the generous hunter having once
determined to aid him, possessed too much magnanimity to
subject the proud warrior to the humiliation worse to him
than death, of being paraded before his white foes as a
prisoner. Harrod took care of him till his recovery, visiting
him regularly on his hunting excursions. When the warrior
grew strong again, Harrod gave him a supply of provisions,
and pointing towards the North, bade him return to his peo-
ple, and tell them how the “ Long-Knife” treats his wounded
foe.

Nothing was ever heard directly from this warrior again,
though Boone, who was aware of the circumstance, and who
was taken prisoner by the Shawanees a short time afterwards,
always attributed the kind treatment he received from the
Indians, and their good faith to eighteen of his men, to the
good offices of this grateful savage. These men were engaged,
under his command, in making salt at the saline springs, and
surrendered at his own suggestion, he having been surprised and
taken prisoner while hunting, and the promise of kind treat-
ment and release having been pledged to him by the Indians.
They, after taking their arms, ammunition, &c., permitted the
men to return to the station unharmed. They took Boone
with them, however, to Canada, where he was shortly ran-
somed.

The popularity of Harrod became very great; for these
many extraordinary feats and kind acts were not his only
claims on the now rapidly increasing population of Ken-
tucky, for their respect and gratitude. His manly wisdom and
counsel, was fully equal to his efficiency in the field; for
though to the last he could barely write his name, and con-
tinued to be a man of few words,—one short sentence of
his, direct, as it always was, and to the purpose, was of

246 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

greater value in those times than all a mouthing demagogue
could utter in a year.

He was elected Colonel, married happily, a genuine Ken-
tucky girl, and was universally venerated and idolized, though
yet scarcely past nis prime. His modesty was unconquera-
ble, and he shrunk from all honors which he could possibly
avoid.

Strange to say, not even the endearments of his happy
home, the love of his fellow citizens, or the charms of a society
daily increasing in refinement, could win him from that sin-
gular passion for solitary hunting,—which seems to be general
and peculiar to the Hunter-Naturalist, in whatever guise he
may be found—for which Harrod was so remarkable. He
would still, rifle in hand, bury himself for weeks, and even
months, in some unpenetrated fastness of the wilderness, from
whence he would return as unexpectedly as he went, laden
with the trophies of the hunt.

Once he thus disappeared, never to return! By what
casuality of the chase, or in what deadly contest with lis
Indian foes, no one could ever more than conjecture.

Thus died a true hero !—as he would no doubt have chosen
best to die,—amidst those wild, stern scenes he had so dearly
loved, and in fair battle with the chances that he gloried most
in daring. Face to face, with God, the ancient nature and
his foe, his noble heart was stilled, and his strong arm fell
nerveless !

The wintry winds have moaned through stately mausole-
ums, indeed, but never yet wailed they a grander requiem,
above a nobler grave, than that wild spot of rocks and forest
where James Harrod lies! He left, I believe, one daughter ;
and a large and respectable family, descended from her, still
live in Harrodsburg and the neighborhood.

a

SSS

S47 900 ATLAOINSHS

CHAPTER X.
THE FOX—AND FOX HUNTING IN AMERIUA.

ReEyNagD is a famous fellow, to be sure !—it behooves me
to be somewhat careful in making my approaches to a person
of such. world-wide celebrity.

He is eminently an historical character, and one not lightly
to be dealt with, even from behind the ponderous shield of
science. His fame has been recounted, not alone in the sober
“chronicles of wasted time,” but legend and romance have
given their voices to commemorate his deeds, and poets have
sung of them in high heroic strains. Witness that renowned
and venerable epic of the nursery, ‘Reynard the Fox,” for
‘what their antique pens would have expressed !”

But it must be confessed that your philosopher is a pro-
digious leveller. No antiquity is so remote that he will not
brush off the green rime of ages, to count the wrinkles on its
front; no fame so awful or overshadowing, that he will not,
with familiar hands, stroke “the mane of darkness till it
smiles,” and renders up the secrets of its glory.

It is only from this point of view that we account for un-
conscious and remarkable coolness, with which astute Natu-
ralists have seized Master Reynard by the nape of the neck,
to drag him forth from beneath the misty obscurations of
time, and hold him in the common light of day before the
eyes of the astonished world. Seeing that they have done
0, in spite of all savage growlings of his outraged histori-
sal dignity, even I can take courage, though with humility,
to give him now an additional shake. I shall accordingly

proceed to “beat out his fur,” mathcmatically, so long as I
248

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 249

can hold a sober face in dealing with a proverbially slippery
and facetious customer.

There are about twelve well known species belonging to
this genera, four of which are native to North America.
There are many disputes among Naturalists with regard to
che varieties of this animal. Instead of twelve, the number
of species has been extended to sixteen. Mr. Audubon, ia
his new work, the Quadrupeds of America, has discovered
that many of those animals which have been named and set
down as distinct species, are only varieties. As for instance,
the Cross Fox, the Black or Silver Fox, and the Red Fox,
have each been classed as a separate species heretofore; but
he has shown, I think, conclusively, that the two first are
mere varieties of the last.

He found all three together in one litter. This fact in
itself, is very strong proof that he is right, for the Gray Fox
is never known to breed with either of these varieties; and
the same is true of the Swift Fox and the Arctic Fox. This
is somewhat singular, for the Red Fox is well ascertained to
breed with the wolf and dog; while a mortal antipathy is
thought to exist between it and the Gray Fox; so great,
indeed, as to give rise to a common opinion, that the Gray
Fox is exterminated by the Red wherever it makes its appear-
ance,

Furthermore, the celebrated’ Dr. Richardson adheres to
the same opinion, in common with the Indians, hunters and
trappers, who have a saying, with regard to the Red Fox,
“This is not a Cross Fox yet, but it is becoming so!” The
European Fox is subject to similar varieties, and the Canis
crucigera of Gessen, differs from it in the same way that our
Cross Fox does from the Red one. On the whole then, I
regard it as a safe conclusion, that the Red and Gray Foxes
are the only distinct species we have within the present limits
of the States.

The slight variations of pelage, which have given rise to the

259 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

belief of the existence of so many species, are not at ali
extraordinary or peculiar; and, indeed, this is the com-
mon cause of a vast and unnecessary accession of species,
which so complicates and involves the whole history of quad-
rupeds. Where such differences are not owning to age or
sex, they are frequently to the accidents of disease, locality,
climate, &. I once saw three cubs taken from the bed of a
Gray Fox, two of which were white as milk, and the other
gray. It would have been very wise of me to have announced
the discovery of a new species on the strength of these
Albinoes !

There is a curious and interesting case in point, given from
the personal experience of Dr. Bachman, the editorial asso-
ciate of Mr. Audubon in the “ Quadrupeds.” After pre-
mising that the swiftness of the animal has most probably
been greatly exaggerated, he says :—

In regard to the cunning of this variety, there may be
some truth in the general opinion, but this can be accounted
for on natural principles; the skin is considered very valuable,
and the animal is always regarded as a curiosity ; hence the
hunters make every endeavor to obtain one when seen, and
it would not be surprising if a constant succession of attempts
to capture it, together with the instinctive desire for self-pre-
servation possessed by all animals, should sharpen its wits
and render it more cautious and wild than those species that
are less frequently molested. We rémember an instance of
this kind, which we will here relate.

A Cross Fox, nearly black, was frequently seen in a par-
ticular cover. We offered what was in those days considered
a high premium for the animal in the flesh. The Fox was
accordingly chased, and shot at by the farmers’ boys in the
neighborhood. The autumn and winter passed away, nay,
a whole year, and still the Fox was going at large. It was
at last regarded by some of the more credulous, as possess-
ing a charmed life, and it was thought that nothing but a silver

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 251

ball could kill it. In tne spring we induced one of our ser-
vants to dig for the young foxes that had been seen at the
burrow, which was known to be frequented by the Cross Fox.
With an immense deal of labor and fatigue the young were
dug out from the side of a hill; there were seven. Unfor-
tunately we were obliged to leave home, and did not return
until after they had been given away, and were distributed
about the neighborhood.

Three were said to have been black, the rest were red.
The blackest of the young whelps was retained for us; and
we frequently saw at the house of a neighbor another of the
litter that was red, and differed in no respect from the com-
mon Red Fox. The older our little pet became, the less it
grew like the Black, and the more like the Cross Fox. It was,
very much to our regret, killed by a dog when about six
months old, and as far as we can recollect, was nearly of the
color.

The following autumn we determined to try our hand at
procuring the enchanted fox, which was the parent of these
young varieties, as it could always be started in the same
vicinity. We obtained a pair of fine fox hounds, and gave
chase. The dogs were young, and proved no match for the
fox, which generally took a straight direction through cleared
fields for five or six miles, after which it began winding and
twisting among the hills, where the hounds on two occasions
lost the scent, and returned home.

On a third hunt, we took our stand near the corner of an
old field, at a spot we had twice observed it to pass. It came
at last, swinging its brush from side to side, and running
with great rapidity, three quarters of a mile ahead of the
dogs, which were yet out of hearing. A good aim removed
the mysterious charm. We killed it with squirrel shot without
the aid of a silver bullet. It was nearly jet-black, with the
tip of the tail white. This fox was the female which had
produced the young of the previous spring, that we have just

252 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

spoken of; and as some of them, as we have already said,
were Cross Foxes, and others Red Foxes, this has settled the
question in our minds that both the Cross Fox and the Black
Fox are mere varieties of the Red.

Here I will dismiss this question, premising the conviction
confirmed out of my own experience by the facts given above,
that the three varieties, the Black, Cross and Red Foxes, will
be found to be about as nearly identical as three specimens
of the common American Skunk, taken from the same bed,
one of which will be banded, another barred, and another
mottled.

But the Editors of the Quadrupeds of America, have been,
after some hesitation, bold enough to go with Cuvier in a most
decided innovation upon the old formulas of classification.

They say, the characters of this genus differ so slightly
from those of the genus canis, that they were induced to pause
before removing it from the sub-genus in which it had so
long remained.

I do not perceive. that there was any special reason for
doubt about the matter, for I have always been surprised that
the foxes have not been recognized by Naturalists through alt
time as'a separate genus. The common sense of mankind
has always so placed them, but it seems that the common
sense of Naturalists has been something different.

Nobody but a technicalist was ever satisfied with seeing the
fox ranked as a sub-genus of canis. Apart from slight physi-
cal coincidents, it is so distinct in habits, character, &c., that
we could quite as readily be content to see the humming-bird
classed as a moth! There is about as much reason for the
one as the other. The truth seems to me to be, that as the
humming-bird, though distinct in its own character, forms
the connecting link between insects and birds, so does the
fox that between the genera canis and lynx; which last, it
will be remembered, was once, in a like manner, classed as
a Feline.

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 2538

Here comes in a reflection which pertinently illustrates the
ladder-like ascension of scientific inquiry towards truth.
Before Linnzeus, the methods of classification were so vague
that nothing more definite could be said of them, than. that
food, size, shape and color were the principal rules. But
the great classifier made an immense advance upon this loose
mode,,and his terse definitions are perfect, so far as external
signs can go, or an accurate knowledge of habits substantiate
them. Buffon, who repudiated systems, only made confusion
worse confounded; and in the fierce collisions which ensued
between his followers and their technicalists, (who swore by
‘ their master, the great Swede,) all systems of classification
seemed to be in danger of being swept overboard.

Cuvier at once stepped to the helm and righted everything.
He brought along with him, not alone the strong arm and the
commanding eye, which wield success, but as well, a heavy
ballast of fossil remains, and huge pre-Adamite bones, which
soon steadied the storm-shaken vessel. Now, Naturalists
were for the first time forced to realize, though unwillingly,
that the only absolute and mathematical law of classification
in Zoology, was to be looked for in the dental and osseous struc-
ture. The old methods are accepted as suggestive adjuncts,
but by no means as absolute authority.

In the dental formula of the genus vulpes, there is only a
slight, but decisive difference from that of the genus canis;
the upper incisor being less curved. It was, however, suffici-
ent to determine Cuvier. The other marked traits of differ-
ence are, that animals of this genus, generally, are smaller,
and the number of species known, greater, than among the
wolves; they diffuse a foetid odor, dig burrows, and attack
none but the weaker quadrupeds, or birds, &c. Yet, despite
their courage upon this point, the venerable Editors of the
“ Quadrupeds,” with characteristic caution, persist in what
may be called “hedging their position,” when they say :—

_As a general rule, we are obliged to admit that a fox is a

.

254 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

wolf, and a small wolf may be termed a fox. Commend us
to consistency,—say I!

The genus vulpes of Cuvier is now established,—has become
a fixed fact of science among us, as it ought to have been
considered long ago! The other two species, beside the
Gray and Red, which go to make up the complement of four

. assigned to North America, are the Swift Fox and the Arctic
Fox.

The Swift Fox inhabits the Missouri and Platte Rivers,
west to the Rocky Mountains. It is a very extraordinary
creature. Although the smallest of American foxes, it is by
far the fleetest. In traversing the wild region where it is
native, I heard from the hunters and trappers most marvel-
ous tales of its swiftness, some of which placed it even along-
side the horse and antelope in this respect, and far beyond
any other animal on the plains. These stories are to be
taken with considerable allowance. I saw it frequently, but

- had no fair opportunity of testing its speed thoroughly —though
there is one observation which ‘I made, that may be worth
giving in this connection.

The vast bare extent and undulating surface of those plains
seem to have had a somewhat remarkable effect in developing
powers of flight and pursuit, in most of the creatures inhabiting
them, and more particularly in the smaller ones; and there is
quite as much of this exaggerated story-telling to be met with
‘upon the lips of these same wandering hunters and trappers,
with regard to the great-eared rabbit of the plains further
South. This animal is represented by them as a miracle of
speed; and I am, from my own observation, disposed to give
a large proportion of credit to their representations.

I have witnessed in them such astonishing power of getting
over the ground, that they almost seemed to defy pursuit.
It was “more like flying than running,” as the hunters say.
The total absence upon these wild plains of any of those
facilities for concealment, refuge or escape, which are afforded

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 955

elsewhere, by trees, shrubs, rocks, ‘holes, &c., renders the
whole game of flight and pursuit a plain, straight-forward
matter of hard running on both sides; so that it is no great
wonder after all, if the heels of both the predatory and fugi-
tive animals should be somewhat cultivated. As civilization
is extended toward these remote regions, we shall know more
of the habits of these fleet children of the solitudes, it is to be
hoped.

The Arctic Fox is more familiar to us, though really far
more distant, and living among more unpropitious and appa-
rently inaccessible fastnesses, locked in by icebergs,

I shall merely say of it, that it is the only one of the genus
which we think at all justifies the remark, that “a large fox
is a wolf, and a small wolf may be termed a fox.” It is much
more like the jackal and wolf in its habits; like them, it is
gregarious, when pressed with hunger, and is known, like
them, to hunt in packs.

But the Red and Gray Foxes are the most interesting, for
around them all the legendary and historical memorabilia
of the genus cluster. This Red Fox must be the same mighty
embodiment of quadrupedal treachery, upon whose sneaking
head the indignant Chaucer loosened such an avalanche of
bitter epithet and grand comparison—

«OQ false morderour reecking in thy den!
O newe Scariot, newe Genelon,

O false dissimulour, 0 Greek Sinon,
That broughtest Troye al utterly to roune.”

And I fear he has not much improved in manners since;
for so well is the slipperiness of his reputation understood,
that his most earnestly solicitous friends, the sportsmen, not
to speak of Naturalists, are to this day puzzled with regard
to his identity. It is a question now of grave dispute, whether
this “false morderour,” denounced into immortality by Chau-
cer, be identical with the personage known by the same name
amoung us—one party strenuously maintaining that the Red

256 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Fox of America is entitled to the glory of such high descent,
while the other sturdily contends that our Fox is an abori-
ginal Fox, and by no means deserving of such hard names as
Chaucer used with regard to the English Fox.

This dispute is rather curious and amusing than serious. I
shall look over some of the grounds of this interesting contro-
versy. One party contends most earnestly that it is the
European Fox, which was brought over by one of the Conti-
nental Governors, who was an ardent sportsman, and who
turned a pair or more loose to breed on Long Island; that
finally they escaped, they or their descendants, over to the
main land, and have since migrated South and West.

The other party contends that it is a native species, and
comes from the North, migrating—as many other species of
quadrupeds and birds, as well as nations of men have done—
towards the South.

The last argument appears to me to be the true one, te-
cause, in the first place, although there are many points of
general resemblance, which might deceive any but careful
Naturalists, yet it has been found, when the two animals
have been brought together and critically compared by them,
that they are quite clearly distinct. This, of itself, ought to
be enough to settle the question; but when we come to
remember, in the second place, that the Red Fox and all its
varieties is a Northern animal, and that from its cunning and
sagacity, it would always make a convenience of the neigh-
borhood of man, for the purpose of preying upon his domesti-
cated creatures, we can well understand how its progress
South should have been quite as gradual as that of well
stocked barn-yards and fat flocks of geese.

The case is to me a perfectly plain one; and the answer to
the multiplied inquiries I hear from old sportsmen—‘“ Whether
it is that the Red Fox has degenerated, or that our hounds,
through careful breeding, have been appreciated in speed ?—
since it is true that the Red Fox is now taken with ease in

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 257

two hours at most, when we thought ourselves fortunate,
when he first came amongst us, if we run him down in
twelve,’—is equally plain. He is a Northern animal, and
the fat living you give him, and your warm climate, have
degenerated the gaunt starveling of the North.

Godman, in his American Natural History, disposes of the
question in quite a summary manner, and, no doubt, greatly
to his own satisfaction. He says :—

By the fineness of its fur, the liveliness of its color,
length of limbs, and slenderness of body, as well as the form
of its skull, the Red Fox of America is obviously distinguished
from the common fox of Europe, to which, in other respects,
it bears a resemblance sufficiently striking to mislead an inci-
dental observer. .

But to suppose this question of varieties settled, we may
proceed in justice to say that with all his persecution Reynard
has never been remarkable for ill-nature, except. after the
manner of a practical joker, who gives and takes; he has too
great regard for his ancient and privileged character as a
humorist, ever to show his teeth savagely, except when fully
cornered, and then he dies game. No wonder the gall of bitter-
ness should be stirred within him at the venal and unfair
method of pursuit common in the Northern States, where the
Cross Fox is hunted by countrymen on foot through the snow.

The dogs used are a mongrel cross upon the cur hound and
grayhound. This animal is stronger and swifter than any
thorough-bred, and better suited for this peculiar purpose—
for the object is simply to get the skin and turn it into dollars
and cents in the most direct possible manner. There is no
poetry or chivalry in this kind of chase, of which Dr. Bach-
man gives the following account.

In the fresh-fallen and deep snows of mid-winter, the
hunters are most successful. During these severe snow
storms, the ruffled grouse, called in our Eastern States the
partridge, is often snowed up and covered over ; or sometimes

17

258 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

plunges from on wing into the soft snow, where it remains
concealed for a day or two. The fox occasionally surprises
these birds, and as he is usually stimulated at this inclement
season, by the gnawings of hunger, he is compelled to seek
for food by day as well as by night; his fresh track may be
seen in the fields, along the fences, and on the skirts of the
farm-yard, as well as in the deep forest. Nothing is easier
than to track the fox under these favorable circumstances,
and the trail having been discovered, it is followed up until
Reynard is started.

Now the chase begins; the half-hound yells out, in tones
far removed from the mellow notes of the thorough-bred dog,
but equally inspiriting, perhaps, through the clear frosty air,
as the solitary hunter eagerly follows, as fast as his limited
powers of locomotion will admit. At intervals of three or
four minutes, the sharp cry of the dog resounds, the fox has no
time to double and shuffle, the dog is at his heels almost, and
speed, speed, is his only hope of life. Now the shrill baying
of the hound becomes irregular; we may fancy he is at the
throat of his victim; the hunter is far in the rear, toiling
along the track which marks the course so well contested,
but occasionally the voice of his dog, softehed by the distance,
is borne on the wind to his ear.

For a mile or two the fox keeps ahead of his pursuer; but
the latter has the longest legs, and the snow impedes him less
than it does poor Reynard. Every bound and plunge into’
the snow ‘diminishes the distance between the fox and his
relentless foe. Onward they rush, through field, fence, brush-
wood, and open forest, the snow flying from bush and briar
as they dart through the copse, or speed across the newly
cleared field.

But this desperate race cannot last longer; the fox must
gain his burrow, or some cavernous rock, or he dies. Alas!
he has been lured too far away fiom his customary haunts,
and from his secure retreat, in search of prey; he is unable

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 259

to reach his home; the dog is even now within a foot of his
brush.

One more desperate leap, and with a sudden snappish
growl he turns upon his pursuer, and endeavors to defend
himself with his sharp teeth. For a moment he resists the
dog, but is almost instantly overcome. He is not killed, how-
ever, in the first onset; both dog and fox are so fatigued that
they now sit on their haunches, facing each other, resting,
panting, their tongues hanging out, and the foam from their
lips dropping on the snow.

After fiercely eyeing each other for awhile, both become
impatient—the former to seize his prey, the other to escape.
At the first leap of the fox the dog seizes him; with renewed
vigor he seizes him by the throat, and does not loose his hold
until the snow is stained with blood, and the fox lies rumpled,
draggled, with blood-shot eye, and frothy, open mouth, a
mangled carcase on the ground.

The hunter soon comes up: he has made several short cuts,
guided by the baying of his hound; and striking the deep
trail in the snow again, at a point much nearer the scene of
the death-struggle, he hurries toward the place where the last
ery was heard, and pushes forward in a half run until he
meets his dog, which, on hearing his master approach, gene-
rally advances towards him, and leads the way to the place
where he has achieved his victory.

There are yet more unfair modes of taking this gallant
animal, known at the North, the very mention of which would
make the warm blood of a genuine fox-hunter boil over with
contemptuous indignation.

The fox is pursued over the snow by one of the scrubby
mongrels above mentioned, until he is fairly earthed, when
the sportsman, as he is facetiously called, comes up with
spade and pick-axe on his shoulder, and after cooly surveying
the ground, prepares to dig him out. His labor at this season
is worth something less than a dollar a day, and if he suc-

260 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

ceeds in digging out the poor fox, he will receive from five
to seven dollars for the valuable skin, which would be a con-
siderable advance upon what he gets for fair and honorable
labor.

Alas! poor Reynard, for all the dignity of ancient asso-
ciations,

‘‘ To what base uses do we come at last.”

The countryman throws off his coat, goes doggedly to work,
and, after hours of digging, perhaps succeeds in dragging out
and knocking the poor beast upon the head, and then swings
the inglorious trophy upon his back to trudge away, triumph-
ing in the prospective dollars. It may be he has to smoke
poor Reynard to death in his hole, or else knock him on the
nose as he rushes forth to the fresh air.

Truly this may be called “Crucigera,” the cross-bearing
variety of the genus, since it is subjected to such unorthodox
and savage modes of persecution, which certainly entitle it to
the crown of martyrdom, if not to the meeker glory of bear-
ing the cross for the sins of all its wicked and witty family.
Indeed, all the twelve tribes, in whatever part of the world
they are found, may be said to “‘bear the cross” of slander
and unmerited abuse from the whole quadrupidal kingdom.

But Reynard having somehow mysteriously, got a bad name
for himself, is made amenable for all the cunning, sly,
audacious things done among the animals, and is therefore
considered, and really known to be, a grievously wicked per-
son.

“Tt is no harm to abuse a poor devil whom the world
unites in abusing,” is the magnanimous motto of the mob,
and poor Reynard has the full benefit of it, in an amount of
obloquy and buffeting which would surely have been sufficient
to chasten and reform the life of any but such an incorrigible.

I rather think he glories in bearing the cross, and courts
martyrdom. I can perceive no symptoms- of amendment.

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 261

He is still the glozing and subtle intriguant of the Greek
fables. The old “‘romaunt’ is still being enacted, and “all
the beasts complain of the fox,” daily and hourly, until king
lion roars in wrath against his wily minister.

I fear there is no sober reform or hopeful redemption for
the sad scamp, since his quaint malfeasances, instead of be-
coming more tempered and ameliorated by-.time, have grown
only the more glaring and impudent as history brings him
nearer to us.

Verily, it is a sad story that the records tell, for Chaucer
found him still “a col fox, full of sleigh iniquitie,’ even in
his day. The young poet, in the prattle of his “ garrulous
god, innocence,” tells us a dreadful story of the morals and
manners of Reynard in his time.

I think it should be blazoned now in the self-same words
of him :

‘Who first with harmony informed our tongue,”

that it may be kept before the eyes of all modern and juvenile
Reynards, as a warning and example of the fearful conse-
quences following upon the unrestrained indulgence uf the
predatory instinct they have inherited. It appears from
Chaucer’s evidence, that “Russel, the fox,” alias Reynard,
(for like all thieves and robbers he has an alias,) did

“ By high imagination forecast—”

(which hints, I suppose, at clairvoyance,) find his way

«<Into the yerde, there chaunticlere the faire
Was wont and eke his wives to repaire.”

This was of course only one of his accustomed jokes; and
although he certainly seemed to be “on the sneak” when
crouching

as in a bed of wortes, still he lay,”

no intimate admirer of his ancestral glory would have sus

262 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

pected what dire and shameless purpose brought him there !
The poet denounces him, as we have seen, with a just and
dreadful denunciation, which, it would seem, must have been
sufficient to arouse the conscience of anybody else, and smd
him with rebuked tail between his legs abashed away. But,
nevertheless, observe how coldly it has fallen upon his deaf
ear, and how, with oily words of glozing courtesy, he proceeds
to assail the gallant and unsuspecting cock, upon his weak
side of vanity and family pride. He tells him blandly—

«Save you ne herd I never man so sing
As did your fader in the morwening.”

The silly bird believes him, and

««____ Stood high upon his toos,
Stretching his neck and held his eyen cloos,
And gan to crowen loud for the nones,
And Dan Russel, the fox, start up at ones,
And by the garget heute chaunticlere,
And on his back towards the wood him bere.”

Then arises at sight of the daring depredator, the many-
tongued hubbub of the barn-yard.

“The sely widow and her daughtren two,”

rush out in pursuit with broom-sticks and with staves, and
cry “ harow and wala wa, a ha, the fox!” and after him, too,

“Ran Colle, our dog, and Talbot and Gerlond,
And Malkin with her distaf in hire hond;
Ran cow and calf, and eke the veray hoggs.”
* * * * * *
«They ronnen so hem thought their hertes breke,
They yelleden as fendes don in hell,
The dokes crieden as men would hem quelle,
The gees for fear flowen over the trees,
Out of the hive came the swarm of bees,
So hideous was the noise a benedicte!”

Shocking and abhorrent as is the view of the moral life of
Russel, aizas Reynard, here presented by the simple-hearted

!

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA, 268

chronicler, there are yet more grievous and solemn charges
laid to his door in the “Shepherd’s Callender.” I cannot
but devoutly hope that the grand old Spencer is rather, in
this case, after the confirmed manner of his “ Faerie Queen,”
indulging in metaphor, than telling a veritable incident out
of his own knowledge. His ominous words are concerning
ss___. A wily fox, that having spide,

Where on a sunny bank the lambes doo play,

Full closely creeping by the hinder side,

Lyes in ambushment of his hoped prey, ,

Ne stirreth limbe till seeing readie tide,

He rusheth forth and snatcheth quite away

One of the little younglings unawares.”
This bloody, but cold and sneaking crime, wrought on in-
nocence, so white-wooled, gaily, meek and unsuspecting, is
too fearful to dwell upon. I can only drop the curtain here
for the present, hoping that Reynard may not prove guilty,
according to the poet’s showing!

Certainly we are not much comforted when we take up the
character of the “Gray Fox.” Comparisons are proverbially
odious, yet as an accurate historian, I have felt myself com-
pelled to make them.

It must be admitted that the Gray Fox, as compared with
the Red, is something of asneak! They are both four-footed
Jesuits, to be sure, but the latter is stouter, and besides has
a family name, an ancestral glory to sustain! He is the
Don Quixote of the foxes, and therefore we can well under-
stand his hen-roost chivalry, not to speak of his barn-yard
heroics!

Though we admit him to be great, we cannot help recog-
nizing the Gray Fox as the special embodiment of all the
blarney and lower cunning of the race. We are most familiar
with him at the South, and feel a sort of local jealousy for
his fame and character. We flatter ourselves that he can
afford to be guilty of a few peccadillos, since they are con-
trasted by such extraordinary attributes.

264 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Let anybody read the subjoined anecdote, by the Editors
of the “Quadrupeds,” and say afterwards, if he can, that
the Gray Fox is not an extraordinary animal!

On a cold, drizzly, sleety, rainy day, while travelling in
‘Carolina, we observed a Gray Fox in a field of broom-grass,
coursing against the wind and hunting, in the manner of the
pointer dog. We stopped to witness his manoeuvres; sud-
denly he stood still, and squatted low on his haunches; a
moment after he proceeded on once more, but with slow and
cautious steps; at times his nose was raised higher in the air,
moving about from side to side. At length he seemed to be sure
of his game, and went straight forward, although very slowly,
at times crawling on the earth; he was occasionally hidden
by the grass, so that we could not see him very distinctly ;
however, at length we observed him make a dead halt. There
was no twisting or horizontal movement of the tail, like that
made by the common house-cat when ready to make a spring,
but his tail seemed resting on the side, whilst his ears were
drawn back and his head raised only a few inches from the
earth.

He remained in this attitude nearly half a minute, and
then made a sudden pounce upon his prey; at the same in-
stant the whirring of the distracted covey was heard, as the
affrighted birds took wing; two or three sharp screams suc-
ceeded, and the successful prowler immediately passed out
of the field with an unfortunate partridge in his mouth, evi-
dently with the intention of seeking a more retired spot to
make a dainty meal.

We had a gun with us, and he passed within long gun shot
of us. But we did not wound or destroy him? He has
enabled us, for the first time, to bear witness that he is not
only a dog, but a good pointer in the bargain; he has obeyed
an impulse of nature, and obtained a meal in the manner in
which it was intended by the wise Creator that he should be
supplied. He seizes only a single bird, whilst man, who

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 265

-would wreak his vengeance on this poacher among the game,
is not satisfied until he has killed half the covey with the
murderous gun, or caught the whole brood in a trap, and
wrung off their necks in triumph.

Condemn not the fox too hastily; he has a more strikingly
carnivorous tooth than yourself, indicating the kind of food
he is required to seek; he takes no wanton pleasure in destroy-
ing the bird; he exhibits to his companions no trophies of his
skill, and is contented with a meal; whilst you are not satisfied
when your capacious bird-bag is filled.

This anecdote is very curious and interesting for several
reasons. In the first place, it exhibits the fox in a new cha-
racter of higher intelligence, than he has credit for possessing,
—and in the next, it goes far towards confirming the old
Spanish legend, with regard to the pointer dog. This repre-
sents the pointer as a made variety, and not an original race.

The legend represents that a Spanish monk, first observed,
in the wild dog of Andalusia, the trick of pausing before the
spring upon its prey. As this pause was longer than in any
other animal, the idea was at once suggested, that by train-
ing, this habit might be made useful. He accordingly tamed
a number of these dogs, and finding them somewhat deficient
in eize, docility and scent, crossed them upon the nobler spe-
cies of hound, and hence the pointer was derived.

T have always been inclined to regard this remarkable story
as giving somewhere near the true origin of the pointer, and
think it most likely that the wild dog mentioned, was a tran-
sition species between the wolf and fox. But apart from
these conjectures, this incident illustrates from an entirely
new point of view, the predatory habits of the species.

In the older States, as all other game has been nearly ex-
terminated, these nine-lived creatures seem only to have
become more abundant, more sagacious and more popular.
Spencer, in his “ ‘Shepherd’s Callender,” very clearly inti
mates that this is not the first time in the history of men

266 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

,

and foxes, that such a condition of things had existed. He
BAYS:

‘Well is it known that sith the Gascon King,
Never was wolf seen, many nor some;
Nor in all Kent nor in Christendome ;
But the fewer wolves (the sooth to sain,)
The more bene the foxes that here remaine.”

This animal seems to have been able to take care of itself,
when all others have vanished before the exterminating tread
of human progress. The game laws protect the Red Fox in
England to an uncertain degree; but the Gray Fox protects
ituc!f here in a certain degree, without the aid of game laws,
and seems in many districts, to defy all our efforts to exter-
minate it; while its sagacity, dexterity and cunning, seem
only to have been increased by the difficulties and dangers of
its environment.

Fox-hunting in the Middle and Southern States, is quite
as much a subject of enthusiasm, as it has been in England;
although it is neither so expensive nor so technical with us.
We don’t pay fifty guineas a couple for our hounds, or keep
studs of “hunters” at prodigious cost; yet we are fox-hunt-
ers after a rude and untechnical manner; and although we
do not ride in white tops and corduroys, yet we ride to the
purpose; and through the rude and break-neck exigencies of
thicket, forest, fallen trees, precipitous hills, rough rocks,
precipices, quaggy swamps and fatal quicksands, we are still
the eager and staunch hunters of a game as staunch. Our
horses doubly trained in the deer and fox-hunt, are more
wiry and active than the English hunters, although they may
not be so heely in passing over open ground, or so well trained
in leaping over hedges and ditches! And, finally, as for
dogs, their genealogies have been quite scrupulously preserved
in the old Scates. Even at this day, we frequently find the
Shaksperian ideal of the dog, still carefully maintained :—

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 267

««My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flew’d, so sanded; and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew,
Crook-knee’d and dew-lapped, like Thessalian bulls
Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth-like bells.”

From Maryland to Florida, and farther west, through Ken-
tucky and Alabama to Mississippi and Louisiana, fox-hunting
next to deer hunting is the favorite amusement of sportsmen,
and the chase of that animal may in fact be regarded ex-
clusively as a southern sport in the United States, as the fox
is never followed on horseback in the North, where the rocky
and precipitous character of the surface in many districts
prevents the best riders from attempting it; whilst in others,
our sturdy, independent farmers would not like to see a dozen
or more horsemen leaping through fences, and with break-
neck speed gallopping through the wheat-fields, or other “fall”
crops. Besides, the Red Fox, which is more generally found
in the northern States than the gray species, runs so far
before the dogs that he is seldom seen, although the huntsmen
keep up with the pack, and after a chase of ten miles, during
which he may not have been once seen, he perhaps takes
refuge in some deep fissure of a rock, or in an impenetrable
burrow, which of course ends the sport, very much to the
satisfaction of the fox.

In the southern States, on the contrary, the ground is, in
many cases, favorable to this amusement, and the planter sus-
tains but little injury from the passing hunt, as the Gray
Fox usually courses through woods or worn out old fields,
keeping on high dry ground, and seldom, during the chase,
running across a cultivated plantation.

In fox-hunting, it is well known that the horse usually
becomes as much excited as his rider; and at the cry of the
hounds, I have known an old steed, which had been turned
loose in the woods to pick up a subsistence, prick up his ears,

268 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

and in an instant start off full gallop until he overtook the
pack, keeping in the run until the chase was ended.

In the older southern States the modes of hunting the Gray
Fox are much alike. To the sound of winding horns the
neighboring gentry collect at an appointed place, each accom-
panied by his favorite dogs, and usually a negro driver to
manage them and keep them from starting deer. Mounted
on fine horses, accustomed to the sport, they send in the
hounds and await the start, chatting in a group, collected in
some by-road, or some high spot of open ground from which
they can hear every sound borne upon the breeze. Thickets
on the edges of plantations, briar patches, and deserted
fields covered with bloom-grass, are places where the fox is
most likely to have his bed. The trail he has left behind him
during his nocturnal rambles being struck, the hounds are
encouraged by the voices of their drivers to as great speed as
the devious course it leads them will permit. Now they scent
the trail the fox has left along the field, when in search of
partridges, meadow-larks, rabbits or field-mice; presently
they trace his footsteps to some large log, from whence he has
jumped on to a worm-fence, and after walking a little way
on it, leaped a ditch and skulked towards the borders of a
marsh. Through all his crooked ways the sagacious hounds
unravel his trail, until he is suddenly roused, perchance from
a dreamy vision of fat hens, geese or turkeys, and with a
general cry, the whole pack, led on by the staunchest and
best dogs, open-mouthed and eager, join the chase. The
startled fox makes two or three rapid doublings, and then sud-
denly flies to a cover, perhaps a quarter of a mile off, and
sometimes thus puts the hounds off the scent for a few minutes,
as when cool and at first starting his scent is not so strong as
that of the Red Fox. :

After the chase has continued for a quarter of an hour or
50, and the animal is somewhat heated, his track is followed

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 269

with greater ease and quickness, and the scene becomes ani-
mating and exciting. Now the masters dash into the chase,
and with wild, eager yells of bursting excitment, they spur
after the roaring pack and regardless plunge at headlong
speed over and through the difficulties of the ground.

When the woods are free from underbrush, which is often
the case in Virginia and the Carolinas, the grass and bushes
being burnt almost annually, many of the sportsmen keep up
with the dogs, and the fox is frequently in sight. He now
resorts to some of the manceuvres for which he is famous;
he plunges into a thicket, doubles, runs into the water, leaps
on to a log, or perhaps gets upon a worm fence and runs
along the top of it for a hundred yards, leaping from it with
a desperate bound and continuing his flight in the vain hope
of escape. At length he becomes fatigued; he once more
drives into the closest thickets, where he doubles hurriedly ;
he hears and even sees the dogs upon him, and as a last resort
climbs a small tree. The hounds and hunters are almost in-
stantly at the foot of it, and while the former are barking
fiercely at the terrified animal, the latter usually determine
to give him another chance for his life. The dogs are taken
off to a little distance, and the fox is forced to leap to the
ground by reaching him with a long pole or throwing a billet
of wood at him; he is allowed a quarter of an hour before
the hounds are permitted to pursue him; but he is now less
able to escape than before, he has become stiff and chill, is

.800n overtaken, and falls an easy prey, turning, however,
upon his pursuers, with a fierce despair, and snapping at them
indomitably, game to the last.

The extraordinary cunning and sagacity of the Gray Fox
is so much the constant theme of Southern hunters, that we
might collect quite a volume of well authenticated stories of
its feats; but the best of the joke is, that wonderful as are
the stories they tell of it, we in Kentucky, and wherever the
Red Fox has yet made its appearance, manage to out-Herod

270 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Herod in the wonders we have to tell concerning 7¢; so, that
on the whole, the question of rivalry may be set: down as near
about as long as it is short.

Admitting all the champions of the Red Fox desire, the
Gray Fox must be acknowledged to be smart, decidedly smart!
Tt frequently climbs trees with an awkward readiness, particu-
larly in the summer time—but its favorite resort is to holes.
Indeed, from what I remember of the Gray Fox, I should say
emphatically that it was “‘of the earth, earthy,” for in lime-
stone regions, such as Kentucky, Tennessee, &c., where sinks
or holes in the ground are abundant, the fellow only conde-
scends to run for recreation, and takes to a hole precisely as
soon as he becomes blown.

An incident occurred in my own experience, and in the
southern part of Kentucky, illustrating the astonishing saga-
city of this fox. I was enthusiastically addicted to fox hunt-
ing, and kept a fine pack of hounds. Several young men of
the neighborhood kept packs of dogs also, and we used very
frequently to meet, and join in the chase with all our forces.

There was a certain briary old field of great extent, near
the middle of which we could on any morning of the year,
start a Gray Fox. After a chase of an hour or so, just
enough to blow the dogs and horses well, we would invariably
lose the fox at a given spot, the fence corner of a large planta-
tion, which was opened into a heavy forest on one side of this
old field! The frequency and certainty of fhis event became
the standing joke of the country. Fox hunters from other
neighborhoods would bring their pack for miles, to have a run
out of this mysterious fox, in the hope of clearing up the
mystery. But no. They were all baffled alike. We often.
examined the ground critically, to find out, if possible, the
mode of escape, but could discover nothing, that in any way
accounted for it, or suggested any thing in regard toit. That
it did not fly, was very sure; that it must escape along the
fence in some way was equally so. My first idea was, that

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 271

the animal, as is very common, had climbed upon the top rail
of the fence,and walked along it to such a distance before
leaping off, that the dogs were entirely thrown out. I accord-
ingly followed the fence with the whole pack about me, clear
round the plantation, but without striking the trail again < or
making any discovery.

The affair now became quite serious. The reputation of
our hounds was suffering; and besides, I found they were
really losing confidence in themselves, and would not run with
half the staunch eagerness which had before characterized
them. The joke of being regularly baffled, had been so often
repeated, that they now came to consider it a settled thing
that they were never to shake another fox again, and were
disposed to give up in despair. Some of the neighbors had
grown superstitious about it, and vowed that this must be a
weir-fox, who could make himself invisible when he pleased.

At last I determined to watch at the fence-corner, and see
what became of the fox. Within about the usual time, we
heard him heading towards the mysterious corner, as the
voices of the pack clearly indicated. I almost held my breath
in my concealment, while I watched for the appearance of
this extraordinary creature. In a little while, the fox made
his appearance, coming on at quite a leisurely pace, a little
in advance of the pack. When he reached the corner, he
climbed in a most unhurried and deliberate way to the top
rail of the fence, and then walked along it, balancing himself
as carefully as a rope-dancer. He proceeded down the side
of the fence next to the forest in which I was concealed.

I followed cautiously, so as just to keep him in view. Be-
fore he had thus proceeded more than two hundred yards, the
hounds came up to the corner, and he very deliberately paused
and looked back for a moment, then he hurried on along the
fence some paces farther, and when he came opposite a dead,
but leaning tree, which stood inside the fence, some twelve or
sixteen feet distant, he stooped, made a high and long bound

272 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to a knot upon the side of its trunk, up which he-ran, and
entered a hollow in the top where it had been broken off, near
thirty feet from the ground, in some storm. I respected the
astuteness of the trick too much to betray its author, since I
was now personally satisfied; and he continued for a long
time yet, while I kept his secret, to be the wonder and the
topic of neighboring fox-hunters, until at last one of them
happened to take the same idea into his head, and found out
the mystery. He avenged himself by cutting down the tree,
and capturing the smart fox.

The tree stood at such a distance from the fence, that no
one of us, who had examined the ground, ever dreamed of the
possibility that the fox would leap to it; it seemed a physical
impossibility ; but practice and the convenient knot had enabled
cunning Reynard to overcome it, with assured ease. I quote
an incident from the Quadrupeds of America of nearly the
same class.

Shortly after the rail road from Charleston to Hamburg,
South Carolina, had been constructed, the rails, a portion of
the distance, having been laid upon timbers at a considerable
height from the ground, supported by strong posts, we ob-
served a fox which was hard pressed by a pack of hounds,
mounting the rails, upon which he ran several hundred yards;
the dogs were unable to pursue him, and thus he crossed a
deep cypress swamp, over which the rail road was in this
singular manner carried, and made his escape on the opposite
side.

The late Benjamin C. Yancy, Esq., an eminent lawyer,
who in his youth was very fond of fox hunting, related the
following :—A fox had been pursued, near his residence in
Edgefield, several times, but the hounds always lost the track
at a place where there was a foot-path leading down a steep
hill. He, therefore, determined to conceal himself near this
declivity the next time the fox was started, in order to dis-
cover his mode of baffling the dogs at this place. The animal

FOX HUNTING IN AMERICA. 273

was accordingly put up and chased, and at first led the hounds
through many bayous and ponds in the woods, but at length
came running over the brow of the hill along the path, stopped
suddenly and spread himself out flat and motionless on the
ground, The hounds came down the hill in pursuit at a dash-
ing pace, and the whole pack passed, and did not stop until
they were at the bottomof the hill. As soon as the imme-
diate danger was over, the fox, casting a furtive glance around
him, started up, and ran off at his greatest speed.

T knew an instance much resembling the last given; but
this was a Red Fox. It was in the remarkable bluffs of the
Kentucky river.

The fox had always been lost at the edge of one of these
abrupt cliffs, which faced the river. The place had often
been examined by the hunters, but as the descent was nearly
a sheer perpendicular of several hundred feet, it had only to
be looked over to convince the beholder that the fox must
have wings to leap down it in safety. At last a hunter deter-
mined to watch the fox, and accordingly lay in wait. He
saw the creature come to the edge of the bluff and look down.
Ten feet below, there was a break in the perpendicular line,
which formed a sort of steppe nearly a foot in width. The
-movement by which he let himself down to this, was some-
thing between a leap and a slide, but it nevertheless landed
him safe on the shelf; and then it appeared that this was the
mouth of a wide fissure in the rock. The most curious part
of this story is, that the hunter discovered another and easy’
ntrance to the cave from the level ground above. This the
fox never used when the hounds were on his trail, as the more
perilous entrance from the front cut short the scent, and pre-
vented the discovery of his retreat. He could only get own
that way and came out by the other opening from the lcvel.

18

CHAPTER XI.

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS.

My dissertation of the last chapter upon the Fox and Fox
Hunting, though strictly germain to the general theme, has
caused me in some measure to lose sight of the individuality
of the Hunter-Naturalist in one of his favorite sports. Though
T have turned aside, through many pages, to present nobler
exemplars of the character, still I must be here permitted to
resume that broken thread of personal narrative, in which I
commenced to recount something of its humble and inner ex-
periences on the rough highway of development; and now,

evil, and wild, and stern as they may be, I shall continue to
274

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 275

depict them with an unfaltering hand, for the lessons they
should convey.

The rude and hardy sports in which my boyhood, youth
and opening manhood had been spent with such devotion, had
yet not been sufficiently engrossing to divert or turn aside
that morbid revulsion of the passions, which inevitably super-
venes upon their first fiery introduction—at this critical period
—to reality outside the holiday world of Dreams and Books.

Indeed, I had scarcely stepped beyond the threshold of
the closet, and found myself under the sun, out in the broad
world, before the sickness of this spiritual revulsion came over
me. I felt the thin wings of the delicate visions I had nur-
tured in, scholastic shades, wilt and curl up, as I have seen
the dew-flower petals beneath a flaming nogn. Ah! a grievous
sickness—almost unto death—that was, when I saw those
exquisite frail things all dying.

They were the creatures of the soul’s first spring-time, of
softer glowing hues, and breathing fresher odors than ever
come again; and what the sun had spared—when the tink-
ling trample of the curt, gray frost went over them—were
snapped and strewn—stark in their own beauties—dead !
The glory and the joy passed from the earth with them—a
huge desolation spinning on its poles—I stood upon its wide
blank, deaf and blind, with one word burning in ghastly light
through darkened brain and soul!—a curse! It was a pur-
pose—it was a savage ecstacy, to live and curse all,—God,
woman, man! to walk through life until I chose to die, hating
and defiang. I laughed hoarsely as I hugged the pleasant
madness to my heart. O, rare and mirthfulest conceit! Re-
venge.

Hate! scorn! Ha! ha! I shouted in my bitterness; right
royal brotherhood for the stout spirit. What a carnival the
game of life will be to us—only we wont throw sugar plums,
J lie down upon the grass and sob and pule like a tripping
Cupid over his crushed flowers? Manly employment that!

276 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

When here is a world swarming with fools to scorn; and a
wide air, tremulous with the beat of hearts, to trample on; a
Universe pregnant with some hideous Power to be defied!
And then the proud exultation—to stalk on, beneath God’s
own lights, wronging his creatures, and taunting him to send
his bolts.

A new energy was possessing me. Life became stronger
than it ever had been before, though my body was wasting.
When the first wild whirl of this delirious excitement had
passed away, the horrible transformation was completed, for
an ashy-pale cold twilight, which no sunshine could dispel or
warm, had settled upon my whole being—an icy ring palpably
clung around my heart, which beat sharply and fast in the
centre—my forehead was cold, but the brain was seething
and glowing behind it.

I felt a chill, unnatural, flaming in my eyes. I was afraid
to look at them; I saw little children shrink in affright as
they gazed at me. Then I knew there was hate and hell in
them, and felt glad—for there was some of the old leaven left
in spite of me—that innocence would be alarmed of its own
instincts, and avoid me. I was stolidly sullen or hysterically
merry, and felt the strangest inclination to laugh when I saw
others weep. I would hide’my face in my handkerchief, and
laugh until my sides ached at what were to others the most
touching exhibitions of grief.

I read incessantly, and out of all literature managed to
extract the bitter waters. My sharpened and morbid fancy
conceived that it could trace the creed of the logician, with
its doubts, its sophisms, and its sneers, through “all records
of all times.” Yet I regarded the Berkeley, Volney, and Tom
Paine school with profound contempt. These people attempted
—vulgarly enough—to “reason” themselves into atheism and
universal scepticism—nothing could have been more absurd;
and Hume would have been placed in the same category, but
that he took to sneering and generalization. Voltaire was

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 277

the Bayard of these weapons, and his compeers learned to
use them. Gibbon possessed a subtle insight, and wielded
the borrowed thrust effectually.

I hated and scorned the Truths of Christianity not as “a
Reasoner” but as an Idealist. I did not, in my morbid mad-
ness, regard, though familiar with them, the historic evidences
of Christ’s Godship and Mission. Had the same evidence
proved that he came in a chariot, with blazing worlds for
wheels, and myriad legions of the seraphim, with fiery swords
about Him, that reaped a nation from the lap of earth, I
should have been no more impressed by it than by the simple
story of Calvary. Mere “ Reason,” I saw plainly enough, to
be utterly incompetent to deal with the sublimity of that
sacrifice, as I had seen it, and known it to be, with the
simpler yet lofty devotion of common humanity.

No; regarding our world as a mere infinitesimal mite of
the Infinite Universe, I impiously questioned, why and how
the creative and governing source of these myriad worlds
could recognize the atomies upon this speck of his dominions,
as alone worth the sacrifice of His Son, and whether such a
sacrifice had been made for the rebels of other worlds; and
recognizing, too, in my philosophy, the separate entity of the
soul, and the mere animal life—I insanely demanded those
spiritual evidences and revelations His followers professed to
receive, and which proved to them that the God of all was
present here, regardful of every hair of our heads, and even
of every sparrow that should fall upon this molecule of space!
Unfortunately, these evidences could never come to such de-
mands; with all the travail of an eager and presumptuous
spirit, they had not yet appeared. My faith, or imagination,
had been appealed to, yet, through nothing palpable it could
lay hold of; and the earnest logician, who starts with doubt,
will certainly never reason himself out of the labyrinth. The
more he reasons the more he doubts.

The beginning and the end with him is doubt. He doubts

278 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

everything—the justice and the being of God—for he mea-
sures him, his entity, and his acts, by the human standard—
the truth and virtue of his race—for he measures them by
what he has felt and realized to be his own capabilities of
evil; and so he goes on, until life—its purposes, its duties,
its realities—becomes to him one vast lie—a monstrous illu-
sion; and himself, with his passions and their ferocious cray-
ings, the only actuality—his own volition, the focal power
round which and for which, the universe revolves. This
devouring egotism—though more, in my instance, an intel-
lectual, than a moral vice—had swallowed up all social ties.

I could recognize society now, only as a masked battle-field,
in which every man, as captain of his own passions, saw in each
fellow man he met a sworn instinctive foe, leading his own
cohort of selfish passions jn the grand melée of life. The
individual contests, then, were decided by the cool and wary
subtlety of the Olympic wrestler. The genial virtues, family
ties, friendship, love, benevolence, constituted the mere
masquerade of the great central instinct, selfishness !

This infernal creed grew upon me, until I became, in plain
words, a devil. Those who had known me and loved me as
the gay, frank, confiding enthusiast, stared at my altered face
and relentless savagery of manner—first in speechless astonish-
ment, and then turned aside to weep! When I laughed at
and mocked their tears, they tried to think me mad—but I
was too coolly and rationally brutal for that. They could
not put me in a strait jacket, hut could only wonder and
grieve.

The very fiends of hell would have been aghast at the
awful phantasies which came and dwelt with me as matters
of course. I could think of stabbing my own friend, as a
sommon-place thing to be caleulated upon. I became morose
and vicious in my temper until my best friends avoided me,
and those who had given me cause for enmity would turn
uside from my path. I had become a downright nuisance,

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 279

with my wicked, scornful gibing at everything men hold
sacred. As to women—“ to search the bottom of annoy,”
and gall, and pain them with the most studied and cruel rail-
lery, was an especially pleasant recreation—the enjoyment
of which was heightened in the precise ratio of their beauty
and wit—or, as I pretended to myself, of their power to
deceive and ruin the moral lives of others, as mine had been
blasted by them. At last I sickened of such tame amuse-
ments.

I thirsted—my blood was on fire for sterner excitements—I
longed to meet death face to face, and look on carnage. It
was an anticipated ecstacy of proud and fierce delight—the
thought of meeting my detested fellows openly at the weapon’s
point. I had champed with the social manacles on, over my
stifled hate, until endurance was no longer possible. I looked
around upon the world for the scenes and circumstances fitted
to the gratification of such pleasant humors. Texas was a
very paradise of monsters—the vicious, the desperate, the
social and civil outlaws of all the world had gathered there.

Delightful fraternity of devils !—they were fighting among
themselves, fighting with the Mexicans, fighting with the
Indians, and for recreation—to keep their hands in—were
battling with the wild beasts. Charming existence! How it
attracted me! how I yearned to participate in its pleasures.
I madly severed the few remaining ties, and started for this
El Dorado of the ruffian.

My friends saw me go, I believe, with a mournful sense of
relief. Though I had been guilty of no overt outrage against
the laws of society, yet my moral presence had become pesti-
lential, and they felt that the morbid disease which was
withering up my soul, must find its own cure. I found myself
in just the element I needed in this country. I met with
men capable of all I dared to do—as hard and reckless, as
God-defying and man-hating, as could be desired. I felt at
home and ‘at ease with such men—we understood each other!

280 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

We carried our lives in our hands—or, what is in other words
the same thing—our weapons.

It added very much to my relish of the sense of being, the
consciousness that I could get myself shot at any time by
crooking my finger. It was a novel sensation—the having
one’s life so entirely at our command—at least the holding it in
such complete dependence upon one’s prompt right arm. And
then the occasional divertisement of quelling some red-handed
bully—as cowardly as he was ferocious. It was a refreshing
exultation to unmask such villains, and see their white livers
paling through their cheeks.

But the life in the cities and settlements was a mere fore-
taste. J must go to the frontier to meet the dusky chivalry
of the mountains on the “ Debatable Ground” of the plains
What, with the open struggle with these wild warriors,—
gaunt, half naked, subtle—and guarding against the secret
and murderous treachery of the Mexican,—I expected to find
employment enough, and glut my passions with the tumult
of strange perils !

Perhaps then my blood would grow cooler, the fever might
go off, and leave me thinking and feeling more as I once did!
for I longed at times to get back to the ground I had left, but
could not now! The disease must have its course. I was
plunging into all this madness to get away from my own con-
sciousness, to hide from the frightful realization of my own
doctrines !

I would say, parenthetically, that this recital is not in-
tended for the sleepy, lymphatic denizens of the “namby
pamby inane.” Your “perfect people,” who never had a
sinful thought, a passion above beef-steak, or a higher adven-
ture than overturning a poor woman’s apple-stall,—their very
blood would be congealed at the idea of reading a line from
the pen of so wicked a wretch as I have described myself to
have been. But men and women who have thought, felt,
analyzed, seen, acted and remembered, will recognize the

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 281

idiosyncracy of this case, as set forth, to be common to one
of the necessary stages of the inner life’ 8 development. Suf-
fice it! To the frontier I did go,—and now for the story of
my adventurings there.

The incidents I am about to give are some of them familiar
to leading men of Texas, though they have never been related
in print. On my way out I had stopped to visit at the house
of a friend, who was a planter, living high up on the Brazos
River. Our time was principally occupied in hunting. AsI
had just arrived in the country, the abundant sport afforded
by the numbers and variety of the game, with which it might
be said literally to swarm, afforded a diversion to my morbid
feeling, and kept me in a continued state of eager excitement.
I was on my horse the greater part of the time.

Though not a raw woodsman, so far as making my way
through the heavy forests of the West was concerned, yet
finding myself’ for the first time upon the vast and unaccus-
tomed expanse of the Southern Prairies, I was for a long
time surprised that though excessively reckless, I should be
here much perplexed, and even timid, in attempting to find
my way.

The land-marks are so different, as well as the modes of
using them, from those to which I had been accustomed, that
I was frequently confused and overwhelmed with awe on
finding myself left in the vicissitudes of the hunt, alone amidst
the illimitable solitudes, with no experienced eye to see for
me the course, where all was trackless..

When I would thus get “turned round,” as it is called,
and the consciousness that I had lost my course, would drive
the blood to my heart: the startled sense of the revulsion is
. difficult to describe. Body and soul would seem for a moment
as if sinking under the weight of a drear solemnity, and then
the returning blood would leap back to the brow, thrilling every
fibre with a shudder. A thousand stories of bloody deaths
under the reeking scalping-knife of savage hordes, met in the

282 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

wide wilderness of plains; of confused circlings day by day,
always bringing the victim back to his own trail, until the
dreary, lingering death of starvation relieved the bewilder-
ment; of banded wolves with gaping jaws, hungry yells and
tireless feet, pursuing the uncertain flight which has be-
trayed to their ferocious instinct a sure prey in the lost man;
of grim, creeping panthers springing from the thicket upon
the deep sleep of his fruitless exhaustion; of the wild, vague
and unutterable horror of lonely, unavenged and unrecorded
death in a thousand forms,—until self-possession reeled, and
the mad impulse was to strike spurs into my horse and plunge
blindly on amidst them all.

This singular sensation gradually loses its ‘intensity, when,
by a series of happy accidents, rather than instincts, we gain
more confidence, and it requires a less forlorn struggle to
recall ourselves to calmness and the cool consideration of the
position in which we are thrown.

But let there be as many lessons as can well be crowded
into a year or two of such wild experiences, yet he is a man
of very strong nerve who can, even then, draw up his horse,
after a heated chase of buffalo, deer, or wolf, or bear, and
not feel much of this appalled startle when, the slaughter
over, he looks around with aching eyes for the first time to
see where he is.

A sinking sense of loneliness and awe is the reaction of the
fierce and headlong excitement, under which he has been
hurled, as it were, he knows not in what direction, or how
far. He gazes around him in breathless silence and name-
less dread for awhile; the contrast of the stilless, now that
death has intervened, with the crashing, raging impetus which
brought him here, is too oppressive, and he dares not make a
sound; he almost shudders while the dim consciousness that
he has just done murder in the sight of his peaceful mother,
Earth, comes over him reproachfully amidst her voiceless
salms; and the whole forest, with its straight stems, the broad

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 283

plain with its flower eyes, the benignant sun, the wide air
itself, all seem for one instant to have stood still to gaze upon
the unholy deed. There lies the quiet victim! He feels
their reproach as he looks upon its fixed, but undimmed eyes.

He cannot stand all this. I said it was but for one instant,
and then his habitual hardness returns; the awe he throws off
with a sneer; the carcass is slung upon his horse, and he turns
its head towards the nearest high land to look how the
country lies. If he recognizes no familiar land-marks, and
he sees that he is out of his range, he then takes his course
by the direction of the prevailing winds, the moss upon the
trees, the position of the sun, the course of the streams or of the
buffalo trails, by the flight of birds, or thousand other tele-
graphic characters which he has learned to read,

But then he has nevertheless experienced, however briefly,
this vague feeling of terror and dread, to which we have al-
Juded, and no one but an old skinny Trapper, whose whole
life has been speht among the mountains, ever entirely loses
this sensation on realizing that he is lost in these mighty
solitudes; because, in the first place, he is never lost, and in
the next, if he were, it would be all the same to him. He
can live wherever a snail, a lizzard, or a raven can live,
and he cares little if he never sees the face of man for a year
or two; in that time he is sure to come out somewhere, even
if it be on the Pacific coast! The deep gorges of the moun-
tains afford him shelter and repose in winter; the open plain
or forest glades a couch in summer; a rock is pillow soft
enough for him, and piping winds do well for lullabies, though
they do bring the thunder for their bass !

He starves until ravin makes him wild, and then his rifle
is more inexorable than the bolts of death. The famishing
wolf is merciful to him. Earth and her creatures are nothing,
now, but fuel and.food to glut his shriveled maw. Blood!
blood! Blood is to him Ambrosia. The Nectar of the gods
would not tempt him from the greasy esculence of ‘“ beaver

284 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

tail!” He is ecstatic upon “ buffalo hump,” and sups his
divinest inspiration from a gourd of “‘bar’s grease.” What
knows he, then, of that “dim religious awe’ within the
natural temples of the Most High, at which I have hinted!
Not he! He has become in these temples what the world
calls a practical priest, and cuts up the “flesh offerings”
like a saw,as harsh and as steely hard!

But to return to our story. The day’s hunt had been an
unusually exciting one. We hunted deer after the following
fashion. These animals feed principally upon the open
prairie, but about eleven o *clock, A. M. they may be seen in
long lines sauntering towards the nearest wood, which usually,
throughout Texas, grows upon the margin of the small lakes
or banks of streams.

They are now going to water, and repose in the-shade
until three or four o’clock in the afternoon, when they come
out to feed again. The deer of the prairies is a very swift
variety, with smaller antlers than the common buck of our
forests bears. We stationed ourselves some half a mile dis-
tant in the prairie on fleet horses, some who were most skilled
with the common “lasso” of the country, and others with our
holster pistols, as in my own case. A negro “driver,” as he
is called, was then sent in with dogs on the opposite side of
the wood to drive the deer out upon the plain; for, contrary
to the usage of the common deer, this creature of the plains
makes always for open ground directly when pursued, and we
awaiting their exit chased them by sight on our horses. We had
but little time to wait, for within twenty minutes out burst a
numerousherd. It was a splendid sight as they came plunging
into the long grass and sunshine, out from the dark shadows
suddenly, with their white throats, their “antlered pride”
thrown back, and round ears laid sharp behind to hearken
the pursuing cry of “bell-mouthed” hound. It is one of the
most exciting scenes I know in the sports of our country.

We reined up our horses for the start; bending forward

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 285

with eager eye and bounding pulse to wait the instant when
they should have passed us on their way into the illimitable
plain upon which they trust to their flying feet for safety.
But though those tiny hoofs be fleet enough to leave the Red
Wolf far behind, or dart beyond the agile panther’s leap, yet
our good steeds, that champ and plunge impatiently, are far
more fleet than they. Now they go bounding by with long,
high leaps over the tall, embarrassing grass, and seem as if
they half wore wings, and were afraid to use them. Now,
too, with a wild shout of pent-up excitement, we are off on
the chase, each man selecting his special prey. There is
little use for the whip and spur in this hunt, for when a horse
has once tasted its fierce and headlong pleasures, he needs
no other stimulant after. They, like their riders, become |
furious with the excitement, and sometimes will bite the poor
animal when they come up with it after a long chase.

The broad, white tails of the deer produce a droll effect as
they rise and fall along the surface of the grass, and serve as
a sort of fluttering beacon to the eye in the early part of the
run; for, when they, at first sight of you, fairly straighten
themselves in their frightened speed, they leave horse and
rider far enough behind; but this does not last long; they
are very fat at this season, the fall, and do not hold out at
this rate. They soon begin to flag from the heat and dragging
weight of the grass, which is now nearly as high as their backs.
We gradually close upon them, and the herd begins to break
up, scattering here and there and everywhere. Your eye
has become fixéd upon a particular one, a noble buck, whose
powerful form has attracted you. Your horse has caught
_ the same object, and divines you well as he turns his head to
follow it, without regard to the course taken by the rest.

Now the excitement becomes a delirium of action; and as
you find yourself farther separated from the other sounds of
the chase, your own individual passions become more and more
intensified upon the immediate object before you, and you

286 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

rush on, you know not whither. My game on this day proved
to be much more long-winded and powerful than usual, and I
had, as the consequence, a tremendous race of it before I
began to gain very rapidly upon its flight. At length the
buck began to make leaps a little less long and high, and my
horse, by this time thoroughly heated in the run, to snort
with eagerness as he let out an additional link or two of
speed. I closed rapidly with the quarry, and loosened my
holsters for the shot which was to close the scene. Now my
horse, with ears laid back, closes up alongside, and with
trembling haste the pistol is snatched from the holster. With
all its desperate speed we almost touch the hair with the
muzzle before we fire—between the shoulders—and it is down!
—tumbling, in the impulse of its flight, forward with broken
neck bent beneath the body.

It is over! We are silent and still. The bloody work is
finished, and I look around for the first time to see where I
am, or what is in sight. I am amongst a wild Archipelago
of islands, or ‘“ motts” of timber, with long, irregular vistas
stretching between them in all directions. My victim lies at
my feet quiet enough now. The strong breeze cools my
heated forehead. The hush is profound at first, for every
voice of nature has been frightened into silence by the violent
scene which had just occurred to desecrate a peaceful home;
but gradually, before my confused sense has time to realize
the scene, the rap, rap, rapping of a wood-pecker’s hammer
stole timidly out from the nearest “mott,” and then sound
after sound, resumed in the same low key, hesitated forth
from bird and insect, showing that Nature was yet alive,
although just now so appalled.

I gazed around—with something of the dim confused per-
ception of one awakening from the deep sleep of troubled dream
—into the lengthening vistas stretching by uncertain glimpses |
into remotest distance—when gradually the overwhelming rea-
lization of the vastness came upon me, and then the shudder-

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 287

ing consciousness that I was lost /—as utterly lost as if I had
just dropped upon the planet from the moon, with a piece of
green cheese in my fist. I had lost all idea of course, dis-
tance, or time during the chase, and now was completely
“turned round.” I immediately felt the full dangers of my
situation. I knew the direction in which we had started, but
knew, too, as well, that from the numerous turns the chase
had taken, that I could no more tell which way to start back
than if I had been physically blind, as I had, in fact, been
mentally so.

I had imprudently come out without a pocket compass, and
was a young woodsman lost upon strange plains. I did not
know enough of the geography of the country to render what
knowledge I had of natural signs of any avail to me here. I
was, in a word, sufficiently panic-struck to act more like the
inexperienced person that I was, than with the self-possession
these circumstances so much required. My heart beat very
loud and fast as I wheeled my horse, and with a sultry feeling
of recklessness, spurred him into one of the narrow openings,
without stopping one moment to consider which way or whither
it should lead me. The poor deer I left upon the spot where
it fell, for I was too much startled to think of dissecting it
now—since, of all the terrible fates that could ever befall a
human being, this of being lost in such a country, had always
been most formidable to me.

I had known of so many instances of terrible suffering and
dreary death from such a cause, at this early time,—when
” even individual settlements were sometimes eighty or a hun-
dred miles apart in the direction of Galveston, and none in
the opposite direction for thousands,—that now the chill
revulsion seemed first like present annihilation, and then
like such remote and undefined suffering as was far more
formidable ; 30 I urged on vaguely—hoping nothing, trusting
nothing, but simply asking for action to distract—and a crisis
to end the suspense.

288 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTFRS.

My horse apparently sympathized with my terror and
despair, for he rushed on with a frightened speed, which at
any other time would have been frightful, but now was only
congenial. I recognized no object that we passed—each
melted into the other, forming on-either hand a sort of back-

‘running liquefaction of mountain and tree, of plain and sky,
that seemed to be keeping time with my motion. I was
riding through a dim land, where nothing looked real but all
infinite—where the end was I did not know.

It was not long before I gained the open plain, upon which
there was, indeed, nothing but grass and horizon, but which
appeared to me the wide end of all things. It was like gal-
loping on clouds toward the moon or “the jumping-off place”
—the distance seemed so inappreciable! yet I urged on.
The grass sparrow chirped and flitted, I suppose,—the deer
turned round to stare, no doubt,—the partridge roared its
sudden under-bass of wings and skimmed away, bending the
grass-tops with its windy whirr, for all I know, but yet I saw
them not but as we see swift shadows in a stormy dream. I
shouted like a crazy man.

I fired my other pistol in the air, in the hope that some
of the party of hunters might hear it—then I paused to
listen. My frightened and impatient horse would chafe and
plunge for a moment, and again, as if divining why I paused,
would be still as death; and now with pricked ears, pointed
stiffly here and there, seem listening round him for a sound—
and then would snuff the breeze with his wide, eager nostrils, —
and with an impulse, headlong and impatient as my own,
bound onward—as the steady, winging raven that followed,
over head, our course, croaked an answer that sounded so
like self-congratulation.

Away! away! away! and still no sight—and still no sound
that came to us with any promise—a herd of mustangs would
sourry off, snorting as we passed—a squad of buffaloes, wheel-
ing sharp about, and like hogsheads inspired of hoofs, with

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS, 289

tails stuck straight in air, go lumber away over the shaking
plain—but nothing like human form appeared. The first
madness had passed off—the instinct of the love of life had
assumed its place, and the blurred vision had become intensi-
fied by the sharpening apprehension which the physical
brought, of thirst, hunger and exhaustion.

I saw objects clearly now. Every line in the horizon was
distinctly defined, and conveyed to me a sort of hope. All
things, indecd, took their relations again, and I was unfright- ~
ened into calm. I knew my danger, in detail, and saw every
blade of grass that marked my way towards—what? I heard
the odd ejaculation of the long-necked blue cranes explode
upon tke silonce like a distant pistol shot—I saw the flowers
bend, and the meadow lark, with its dark feather-heart out-
side its musical breast, bound up from the grass with its low
fluttering flight, to sing on wing most sweetly, of all joy,
though filled with fear. The very sand rat that had darted
with a faint squeak to its hole, I saw peep forth again as I
went past, so minutely did my vision take in everything now.

I had ridden on for several hours, the country at each
moment becoming still more strange. There were no objects
in which I could detect the slightest degree of familiarity—
my horse was beginning to fail, and dreading lest he would
give out beneath me, I reined him up. This would, indeed,
be a fate too terrible to contemplate—being left on foot in
the midst of these great plains! I got down and stroked his
panting sides and walked with him for an hour, until he
seemed to be regaining his strength somewhat, for the morn-
ing’s work had been tremendous, as I in my unrecking
despair, had kept him urged to nearly the top of his speed
during this foolish ride. Fortunately, he was one of those
game and indomitable horses formed by crossing the mustang,
which is an Arab, upon the larger-boned Northern horse, or
he could never have survived such a run.

19

290 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

T had supposed that my only chance of escape lay in keep-
ing one direction, for, that circling commenced, each turn
made lessened the chances. But now that I came to reason
somewhat coolly about my position, it became apparent to me,
that in this time I had, in pursuing this straight line, passed
over more than treble the possible distance to the plantation
of my friend, and that, of course, I must therefore either have
taken the wrong direction or have passed it without observing.
Then commenced that fatal series of doubts, fears, surmises,
trials, in this and that direction, which is usually the indica-
tion of syncope in this disease of getting lost. Each failure
only bewilders you the more—each turn makes “ confusion
worse confounded.” But, nevertheless, some change had be-
come necessary. I might be every moment going away from
the reach of help—getting deeper and deeper into the track-
less waste! But which way shall I turn? I now remembered,
for the first time, that I had failed to trust any thing to my
horse in choosing my direction.

If I had done so in the first place, the chances were that
the extraordinary instinct possessed by many of these animals,
would have carried me right! I have, in frequent instances,
found this instinct infallible, especially when the animal was
closely crossed upon the Arab blood. That noble race, which
bore the earliest children of Ham in the chase across the
shifting deserts, inherits all the strange instincts, with regard
to courses and distances, which the wild and perilous uses of
their: hunter-lords developed in them, through the centuries
which have developed as well our civilization. They are,
therefore, best suited, until the camel comes, to traverse. with
security the “unhoused wilderness” of the great south-west.
That wonderful animal has not yet been introduced upon
these plains, although much has been done by myself and
others to awaken public attention to its importance. Such
an advent will entirely revolutionize the commerce and travel

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 291

of the plains. The camel must carry our civilization over
these deserts, as it has brought that of the ancient east upon
its uncouth back towards the triumphing West.

I stopped my horse entirely, and dropping the reins upon
his back, urged him slightly with my spurs—very slightly.
When he found himself free, he shook his head to realize it,
and then, stopping, turned his gaze around and around him
several times—but yet he seemed to be bewildered, and only
moved hesitatingly, first in this direction and then in that.
If he had taken his course at once, I should have felt some
hope—but my heart sank in me as I saw from his manner
that he felt what was expected of him, but had become con-
fused. Had he ‘taken any particular direction and pursued
it steadily, with accelerated speed, I should have been entirely
secure, because then I would have been impressed that he
knew he was right, and could ultimately bear us through.
His hesitation, however, convinced me that I was as utterly
lost as ever rudderless ship, without a compass, was upon a
shoreless sea—but yet I felt, too, that I had better trust to
him than to myself. My imagination had confused me, while
physical exhaustion had rendered his instinct too insecure.

He was evidently as afraid of being trusted as I to trust.
However, after a pause of a few moments, he moved on,
turning back nearly in the direction we had come. At first
I was pleased with this selection, as it seemed to indicate the
possible truth of my own surmise, that I had started nearly
right, but had passed the plantation. This poor consolation,
however, did not outlive the approach of night, which came
in heavy shadows, portending a storm, such as thunders and
rages along these southern plains occasionally. My miserable
horse was now nearly exhausted, and staggered as he dragged
his limbs heavily through the high grass. We were still in
the prairie with nothing around us but the great oceaa of
grass, which was beginning to toss and sway with the advance
winds of the coming tornado.

292 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

The black heaven of clouds came rolling up out of the
south-east, and already I felt the cold breath that drove
it on, dash with a fresh heavy chill against my face, like
the spray of a cataract. The rush and roar that followed left
me no time for thought. In a moment, horse and man were
prostrate, helpless along the plain.

Such crashes !—such tremendous claps—such sheeting the
horizon with swift piercing blazes—such beating, crushing
floods, that but seemed a better medium to transmit the
mighty clangor hurled around by the strong wind, with
vast black clouds that dipped and spun like flakes of ebon
down, or sudden fire above! Such an image of sublimest
anarchy never before came to overwhelm an already desperate,
wearied, and starving wanderer. I clutched at. the strong
rooted grass in the blindness of my astound, and knew not, -
in the horrid tumult, that my horse had fallen upon my leg.

I was so stunned that I did not feel the pain. I tried to
look up to understand the awful clamor. Was the last day
come? Had some God descended in the terror of his might? A
keen shaft, in clattering zigzag, would pierce the chaos, blind-
ing as it illuminated. The crashing of torn limbs, caught up
miles away, and projected with the flooding rain—the stifling
grass-tops, torn and hurled into my face—the bellowing moan
of frightened buffaloes—the shaking trample of their strug-
gling feet, all came commingled, as the only interludes to my
confused senses.

My horse, at last, as terror-stricken as myself, burst forth,
while he lay writhing upon my crushed leg, into a wild and
strangely harrowing cry—peculiar to these animals when
overcome by panic—and which now rose a weird shriek of
agony into the tempest. I had never heard it before, and
could not know its source; and the sudden coming of this
shrill and unimaginable cry so close to my head, had an effect
of the supernatural so absolutely appalling, that I fainted,
und remember nothing more until tho steady blazing of the

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 298

early sunlight upon my eyes waked me to a sense of pain,
weakness, and astonishment, amounting almost to fright—for
stooping over me was one of the most unexpectedly strange
figures that it had ever been my fortune yet to encounter.

“ He’s coming-to—the poor boy !”

This was spoken in a tone that startled me for some reason
—I did not know what—entirely apart from the circum-
stances, and the unexpectedness of hearing a human voice at
all, after and amidst such scenes. I looked up. What a fu. e!
Storm-seamed and bronzed, it was clearly a woman’s bust—
2 woman’s face!—that leaned over and looked kindly down
upon me from beneath a sort of half cap and half hood of
fawn’s skin, with the spotted hair turned out.

“You are not wanting of a wet bed to make you grow—my
green youngster! What in the Lord’s name brought you
here, child ?”” ;

The sort of half-grim pleasantry with which this was spolen,
as I opened my eyes fully upon her, relieved to some de.ree
my startled feeling of apprehension, and I faltered out feebly,,
with an attempt at cleverness :—

“T suppose I was blown here—or fell from the clouds!”
She assisted me to a sitting posture with her strong hand.

“Nonsense! nonsense, boy !—your own foolish hastiness
brought you here! get up!—Ah! I see you cannot rise yet!
But you are hungry, perhaps !—I’ll give you a slice of-a+ fine
a buck as ever was killed, and the taste of which one w uld
think you ought to know!”

She drew forward a small wallet of dressed skin that was
slung behind her singular costume of the same material, and
took from it some pieces of roasted venison, with which she
presented me. As I clutched them with a half-famishing
eagerness, a low, quiet laugh from this personage caused me
to look up at her again with a droll feeling of curiosity, which
even excessive hunger could not repress.

“Taste it, boy! taste it! He! he! he!—you ought tc

294 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

know that meat!’’ and she stooped to pick a rifle from the
wet grass; and while, continuing to chuckle, she examined
carefully the neat lock, I could see her whole figure fully as 1
ate. The form was unmistakeably that of a genuine woman.
The figure, about five feet seven, had nothing of Amazonian
stoutness at all apparent, although the manner in which the
rifle was held and handled, would naturally lead one to sup-
pose that those limbs must be very compact, indeed. The
general outline, although obscured by the rude drapery, gave
you the idea of that swift tenacity which roun]. small bone
and taut-strung thews express in the young Indian runner of
the North, without destroying a sort of “formidable grace”
in its flexible natural movement.

You were surprised, and yet you were not, that she should
be a woman of our own race, The features were plain, and
here the lines were a little sharp, though not unmatronly.
altogether. There was an expression of care, not faded, but
eager, anxious, longing. The eye seemed so calm and frank,
quick, open, large and blue, that that you could never have
conceived the finely arched eye-brow as darkening of itself,
but simply as drawn down by the possible contracting of a
“dreary mouth austere” below. In a word, with her tanned,
self-possessed face, her hair slightly tinged with gray, her half-
hunter and half Indian-woman costume, her concise lanzuace,
her sudden appearance, she was to me the most extraordinary
mortal phenomenon I had yet met with. I was too hungry
to philosophize or speculate, so there was nothing left me to
do but live in the exhausted present, and wait for the future
to enlighten me concerning her.

She leaned the gun, re-covering the lock with a buck’s skin
guard, carefully against my saddle, which I observed upon
the grass, and seeming to be satisfied from her inspection that
the tube was all right and the cap now entirely dry, she
walked towards my horse, merely saying,—‘ Sleep again,

boy, and you will be ready!” The curt injunction seemed

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 295

almost unnecessary, for the unconquerable drowsiness which
follows eating, after long hunger and excessive fatigue and
excitement, was already upon me; and the last I saw of her
she was standing by the side of my horse with caressing words
and gestures as he nibbled feebly at the grass amidst which
he stood, with an uncertain sort of air, as if he would just as
soon lay down again, or rather fall down !—as not!

When I awoke again, the sun was getting low, and its
shadows even fell over the damp bed upon which I had fallen.
Traised myself to a sitting posture with a vigor apparently
renewed, as I felt for the moment the deepest astonishment
and mystified enough by what had been occurring. It all
seemed like a dream. It could not be real! There wasa
vague image of a strange woman with a rifle in her hand,
struggling through my brain, and I tried to remember her
cool, patronizing words, and her plain, remarkable face, with
the fawn-skin hood, and her hardy looking figure, with its
anomalous dress of buck-skin; but it all seemed too unreal,
and I found myself standing erect, with a sort of smiling con-
stiousness that J had been having a very ridiculous dream ;
bevause, there was my noble gray standing the usual distance
off in the deep grass, and browsing as if he expected a long
day’s work, and was laying in the necessary supply of pro-
vender therefor.

To be sure, the grass seemed strangely levelled and twirled
abunt, and it was odd what a number of twigs and limbs, of
trees lay strewed around, considering there was nothing like
a tree in sight; but yet I could make nothing out of it. How
came my saddle off? How came Gray to look so comfortable ?
How came I so lame in my left leg that I could not step more
than half an inch at a time after I got up, with a sort of
numbed struggle, to my feet, and realized the extent and
dreariness of the devastation in the midst of which I stood?
The prairie presented the appearance of a thousand mael-
rtromes congealed into green stillness, humbled by a Higher

296 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Power as a fixed expression of abasement, with all the broken,
jagged wrecks left obtrusive, sticking here and there and
everywhere, just as they had been hurled in the rash rebellion
that had provoked it.

What a scene of desolation for a dreaming man to awake to
realize? I had risen from a blanket! It seemed as if I must
have gone to sleep quite considerately !—there were evidences
about me of my having partaken of food,—the proof was in
the vigor that I felt in spite of my lameness! and then the
whole terrible scene of the storm came back to me as I brushed
my forehead impetuously with my hand. Ha! ha!—I have
it all!—That woman! I turned my head, and there stood
the strange figure, leaning on her rifle, within ten feet of me,
chuckling inwardly at my bewilderment, with that same cool
smile!

“Young man, are you ready now?” she asked, suddenly.
I was still somewhat bewildered, and answered, “Ready for
what ?”

“To go with me!” was the abrupt reply.

“ But go where? What would you have me to do? Who are
you? Are you man or woman?”

“What is that to you, childish boy? Your questions are
foolish. I have saved your life and wish to preserve it far-
ther; you can never get out of this wilderness in your present
condition. I will take you home with me until you are re-
covered sufficiently.”

“But, have you a home?” J said, pertinaciously.

“Am I a wild beast?” she answered, taking off the strange
head-dress, and showing a pure white brow, the feminine lines
of which contrasted curiously with the dark, seamed bronze
beneath. She smiled, I thought a little proudly, as she re-
placed it, and advanced towards my horse for the purpose of
equipping him, which was done with perfect dexterity. She
then led him to my side.

“Now, boy, will you mount ?”

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 297

“ How can I! I can scarcely move.”

“OQ, never mind! your leg is not broken. I can help
you!”

So without more ado, she lifted me into the saddle, with
perfect ease to herself, but great agony to me. When once
in the saddle, the pain subsided in a measure. She pointed
me the course, and walking by my side, held my leg gently,
so as to ease its position as much as possible. This conside-
rate kindness had a most soothing effect upon me, and the
simple act greatly alleviated my pain and restored me to con-
fidence,—singular as had been the circumstances of this ren-
contre. I was even moved to speak to her as to a human
being; for in my disturbed state she had really appeared
a doubtful sort of being. I was not over clear in imy mind
as to where she came from, nor over sure what to expect from
her; but this little act convinced me that I must be in good
hands, at least, however unaccountable the use they were
apparently put to might seem.

She appeared to comprehend the sort of dubiousness of
feeling with which I had become possessed, and answered the
question :—

“How far is this home of yours?”

“QO! it isn’t in a hole in the ground, in a hollow tree, or
in a cave, as you will see!”

“Then, how far is it to C
friend’s.)

“You will find it far enough to need whole limbs to reach it.”

“But how far may that be?” ;

“Boy! we have no surveyors here, with their steel chains
laid along the earth, emblematic of the slavery to which it is
doomed, to measure our miles for us. We measure them by
our own free strides !”

“ But that is no answer !”

* Ask no questions! I will show you when it is time
enough for you to go!”

’s plantation?” (My

298 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

This was spoken with a sort of petulance, m.ngled with
solemnity ; and, as if declining further conversation, she urged
on my horse and strode more rapidly, not forgetting her ten-
der care of my leg, though she had dropped her head mooiily
upon her breast. I was compelled into silence, of course,
but this abrupt sort of manner roused my pride somewhat.

I recalled the frequency with which she had spoken to me
asa “boy,” “child,” &c., with some spleen, as I rode on in
sulky silence, too. Why, I was a young man of twenty-one,
and thought myself somebody! What was there entitling any-
body to call me by diminutive names, in the stupid fact of my
having got lost in a country of which I knew so little? “I
dislike this sort of patronage, even if she has got some streaks
of gray‘in her hair; she is not so oldish-looking after all, as
to entitle her to speak like the mother of Methusaleh, even
if she did drag me from under my horse when I was uncon-
scious !’’ so I muttered to myself in a really childish spleen,
the secret of which was mingled of mortified vanity, and baf-
fled curiosity. As she remained silent, I was foolish enough to
give way to this feeling at last.

“Why do you persist in calling me ‘child,’ ‘boy,’ and the
like names ?”’

“Because you are a child!” and she looked up into my
face with a quick glance that had an expression of sternness
in it, above that compressed mouth, that I shall never forget.

“Mere boy as you are, you think you are a man!—you
might pass well enough in the tinselled dens and reeking
sinks of civilization! Perhaps you are a boy-man!” This
was said with a slight sneer that cut me to the very core.

“But, remember !—it requires something more than mere
years—the vital breath of which has been poisoned—to make a
man out here, in the presence of the ALMIGHTY, worthy to look
up into his solemn Infinite, where Nature is the only delegated
Presence! You must have wiser and riper experience, than
those which caused a brave young man—no doubt !—to start

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 299

like a madman across the plains, merely because he considered
himself lost,—without taking time to cut the throat of the
deer he had just shot, or to cooly examine his immediate
neighborhoed,—when, in that event, he might have seen me
step forth, whose eye had been upon him, and relieve him
from all trouble. You need to trust Nature more, and through
her learn to trust yourself! She is full of amenities, and in
the mild grandeur of her moods is merciful to all but human
weakness. As she represents all that we know of God’s
physical to us, we must trust her in such relations as we trust
him in the spiritual. You are old enough and know enough
to have found your way back to your friends, if you had
stopped to think a moment.

“You did not trust,—and though you might not have fled
from mortal foe, you did fly from your own imaginations, for
I was an unseen witness! I saw you scurry off, and before
I understood the cause, you were beyond the reach of any
sound I could produce. I laughed, and pitied you,—but
found you this morning by accident.”

“You are a strange person! What is the meaning of all
these things you say to me?”

“Meaning, boy? That you children of civilization imagine
yourselves educated when you have talked with books in
dingy closets, and grown pale in the stagnant air in which
your morbid dreams are generated, along with dull diseases!
You have only commenced the true life. Neither the physi-
cal or spiritual are yet developed in you, although you may
be what you call learned !”

“That I disclaim!’ I could not help saying, with false
and unnecessary modesty.

“Then, it is nothing to your credit! One kind of learn-
ing is as necessary as another !” she continued, with no change
of intonation, but in a severe, rapid manner.

“You should know books as well as Nature. One is God’s
Book and the other man’s!”

300 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

“That sounds polemical!’’ sneered I, having by this time
become interested in her dogmatism, and feeling a sudden
accession of the old profane propensity for cynicism.

“Tam oo vulgar heretic. I believe in all the sacrednesses
of humanity, but I believe as well in those of Nature. The
religion of the Bible is, perhaps, more of a religion to me than
to you,—but the religion of Nature is an essential part of it,
and, with me, the base, of course, as Eden had its base upon
the earth.”

“Well.” thought I, to myself, “‘ Here’s a droll preacher I
have met with, any how!”

“ But, you think it strange I should tell you that you do not
know your own life, because you suffered your imagination to
make a fool of you, in conditions from which your experiences
showed you no mode of escape which you could understand ?”

“Yes !”

“Well, that you may understand what I mean,—should
you not have known how to read this great page of continent-
stretching plain, as well as that other smaller page of your
Human Learning, let it belong to what tome it may ?”

“Yes; but you remember I have not had time yet to learn !””

‘Then confess yourself a child! I have been taught to read
your books, and have learned something of them, too. I can
read the other book as well; and, instead of the faded decay
of the mere scholar, you see the bronzed seams of a sterner
and mere hardy life. Woman as you say I am—lI wili out-
live a dozen of them in the Life of Truth. Had I been cast
upon the middle of the desert of Sahara by such a tornado as
you met with last night, I should not have attempted to take a
course until I had seen the sun rise. This would have been
a base for faith, for observation, for calculation—nothing
would have escaped me, however minute—from the character
of a cloud to the position of the low sand-waves fixed. around
me, to tell how the prevailing wind had left them to wait its
next coming—and that wind would tell a pregnant story,

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 301

toa, when it went by. I could almost judge with certainty
‘whence it cometh or whither it goeth!’ Not a starved and
bitter shrub, but its fingers pointed a significance—or showed
something on one side of the discolored bark—either the
direction of the nearest water, or of the prevailing wind—
not an antelope that darted past but would have led me the
way to some Oasis!’ She paused suddenly.

“That a man should utter such thought would not surprise
me so much’’—said I, hastily. ‘ But that a woman should—”

“A woman should!” she interrupted. “Give a woman
something to love and something to venerate—an idea to
achieve—and what will she not accomplish! Now you show
yourself a child again!”

“You make woman in yourself more infallible than man
pretends to be, even in his proper and peculiar field !”’

“Young man—lI understand you! I could possibly get
lost as easily as some men—but I could not get scared!”

“Thank you!” said I, with a poor effort at\the magnani-
mous. But she‘went on without noticing.

“TJ should not have been flurried out of my common sense,
anid lost all the chance I had for getting out of the scrape—
ifIamawoman. There is too much yet ic be accomplished
to justify any one in throwing away a life. Mankind has yet
to be redeemed. The world needs all its laborers !”’

Here is the key-note to this strange anomaly—I thought!

“You will not do much to redeem it out here!” I ventured
to hint.

She turned her head abruptly, merely muttering—

‘You will know more some time!” and, as at the moment,
a herd of deer, which had been lying down in the grass within
range, sprang up from:a low piece of the ground—her rifle
was at her shoulder in an instant. A deer bounded into the
air, and merely saying as she turned off—

“Wait for me!”—she proceeded to cut the throat of the
animal—reloading her rifle as she went.

802 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

“Well!” said I, as I squirmed in my saddle, when she was
out of ear-shot— Here’s a free specimen, with a vengeance !
‘A sort of Amazonian-Siamese-Twins-of-a-personage—a double-
shotted-she-fanatic run wild! She is surely sufficient unto
herself ?—Lord help the husband of such a woman—if she
have one!” Then I felt mean.

“ But, by Jove, how strangely she talks—and how kindly she
has treated me—if she does patronize! I half suspect she’s
right about the child /”

The deer was dissected in short order, and she returned to
my side bearing the hams still enveloped in the hide, which
had been stripped from the fore-parts, which are not much
valued in a country where venison is so abundant. _She slung
her burden across my horse behind my seat, merely remarking
as we moved on—“ This is a fat saddle !”’

“ But is it possible that you hunt on foot always?”

“Yes; I prefer it !’’

“ How do you get your meat home ?—not upon your shoul-
ders, I hope !”

“Yes—but why not, young man? My limbs are strong,
my step is firm. I do not tire like the tottering creatures of
rotten civilization. I who breathe God’s pure air have the
will—why not the deed ?” :

“But you are a woman,” I persisted. ‘Your husband, if
you have one, should do this ?”

“Bah! What if I am a woman—I must work? My hus-
band works! Works gloriously and nobly for mankind, and
I, too, am laboring for mankind when I provide for him. He
has no time for such menial labors; and if he had, he would
be doing injustice to the necessities of the race if he gave it
to anything but the high mission on which he has been sent!”

“This is a strange doctrine, it seems to me—you are
reversing the savage code; for even with them, although the
women perform the baser services, the men at least do the
hunting.”

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 303

‘Young man, you speak like one who had been in the
world just twenty-one years, and that, having eyes, had not
seen. Do you not know that progress, like all other of God’s
great Laws, moves in the spiral—upwards? That it must
bring us around again to the same conditions from whence we
started—though above them. A close approximation to the
savage life anc virtues will be the highest civilization. It is the
ferocious vices we shall have conquered, and the heroic virtues
we shall have attained. These stern savage races go down
before the wheels of progress because they will not bend; with
the light that was given them, they are too faithful and too
strong to yield. It is a bastard civilization that is really un-
true—begotten. of luxury or lust—its children are the true
Neros of ferocity and brutality. The world needs brains
now more than thews and sinews. The need is too great for
true hearts to stop at conventional forms, which, after all, are
the mere disguises of unbounded licentiousness. The millions
groan, and we must work each in his own appointed way.”

“But Ido not understand from all this why the common
relation of husband and wife should be reversed.”

“Ah, yes! Then the constant tendency of this struggle
of civilization toward the simpler forms and a purer light, is
to intensify the action of the mental and spiritual natures,
rather than the mere physical. The mental searches for the
mechanical means of rescue, the soul for the spiritual. Both
are maddened by the clamorous cries of suffering nations into
a morbid activity—the results of which are most frequently
‘confusion worse confounded’——and an unnatural development
of the brain, or of the mental in relation to physical. Where
this condition has supervened, it is the office of dove to restore
the equilibrium; and in the true marriage, upon whichever
party the lot of extreme spiritual and mental development
shall fall, the doctrine of Utility requires of him or her a
life-dedication to the great cause, in whatever direction tho

804 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

strongest tendencies may be—and so upon whichever party,
man or woman, the lot of greatest physical strength and
activity should fall, the responsibility of all that species of
exertion must devolve. Thus they both labor to the same
end, through each other, and are unified in purpose and
results !”

“This then is your reason for assuming the office of com-
missary! You are physically strongest, and have assumed
the burden of the way?”

“He is strong in his own way, young man!” she answered
drily— But look ! there is our little home !”

I had become so interested in this strange conversation—
stranger even than the circumstances which had brought me
into such relations—that I had not noticed what the direction
was, or what the peculiarities of the ground we were passing
over. I now looked around me, and even if my vision had
not been sharpened by observing a sort of cynical smile upon
her face as she pronounced the last words—I think my own
memory would have been sufficient to compel me to recognize
the scene, amidst the “Archipelago of motts,” in which the
deer had fallen, and from which I had fled so ignominiously
—as it was turning out.

There was the very spot where I had left the deer, and the
bones of the refuse parts lay strewed around upon the dank
and bloody grass. Some wolves, which had been squatting in
the neighborhood of their feast, made off as we approached.
I looked in the direction in which the woman had pointed,
but could perceive nothing like a house. She smiled at my
puzzled gaze of inquiry into her face.

“You are back again, you see! I took off that deer’s skin
myself, and you ate some of its meat. The horse had more
wit than the rider—you perceive he was coming direct!”

“Yes !’’ said I dolorously, as we were passing on—“ but
where is the house of which you spoke?” for my bruised

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 805

limb—the pain of which I had almost forgotten during the
excitement of our conversation—was becoming most oppres-
give, now that something had been said of home and rest.

“Do you see that small mott?” said she, pointing with her
rifle to a clump of large live oaks upon a bit of rising ground,
some half a mile ahead—and near to what, I now perceived,
for the first time, to look like the heavy timbered bottom of a
stream of some size.

“T see nothing but a mott!”’ said I impatiently. “Where
is the house?” Her look brightened as she stepped on more
briskly by the side of my horse, who seemed to have scented
some familiar odor on the breeze, that quickened his step, for
his ear was now pricked forward, and his gait confident and
elate. ‘

“You shall see!’ and she smiled. We soon reached the
mott, and passing beneath the long heavy drapery of moss
that descended from the low wide limbs of the live-oak, we
were at once in the dim cool twilight, which would have b st
become that religious atmosphere in which the Druidical rites
were performed. In the midst of this, and almost hidden by
the gray funtastic drapery of the great tree above,—I saw
indistinctly the appearance of palisading, that seemed to be
circular in form. Another moment she pushed aside the moss,
and we were at the door. It was a round hut, the walls of
__ which were composed of the small trunks of trees set perpen-
dicularly in the ground—the interstices being filled with a
sort of cement of moss and mud. The roof was thatched
with bull-rushes, and the door was a frame of hickory saplings
stoutly interwoven. There was no sort of picketing about
it, as is usual in the country, to the small as well as large
ranchos.

It seemed as if the shelter of the moss-draped oaks had
been deemed sufficient—and so, indeed, it appeared to be, for
its appearance of entire security, like some wild nest of lonely
birds, was what first struck me as I saw it. The door was

20

806 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

closed, and it looked silent as death. She held up her arms
to assist me to alight, and then taking down her venison, she
gave the lariate of my horse a turn around a limb of the
sheltering oak, and assisted me toward the door. She called
out in a low tone, “ William ?”

I heard a soft, unsteady tread respond to the call, and the
door was opened. A pale man, with large head, bright gray
eyes, broad shoulders, and small legs, made his appearance.

“What is the matter, Molly?’ said he, with such a quiet
look as his eye fell upon me, that one would have supposed I
was his oldest son.

“Ts the poor youth hurt that he leans upon you so?”

“Yes.”

“Then, bring him in, in God’s name, and we will shelter
him until his strength returns!’ and she assisted me to the
door, when he clutched me with a strength of gripe that as-
tonished me, and nearly lifting me towards a low couch of
dried moss, laid me upon it without asking a question. He
adjusted my position with a sort of awkward care, and when
assured that I was comfortable, he went quietly to a rude
ottoman composed of dressed bear-skins with forked stakes and
small saplings for supports, and seated himself, with the most
benign expression of serenity before a rude table covered with
all sorts of odd implements; and taking, up, what appeared to
be a microscope, commenced an attentive survey of some small
object before him, which I could not distinguish. He had
asked me no explanation, did not seem to be at all disturbed
by my sudden appearance, and had fallen back into what
seemed a routine, just as if nothing had happened. This,
though not very complimentary to my vanity, only served to
rouse my curiosity, in spite of my sufferings.

“Molly will take care of you directly!” he said, looking
up; ‘She has gone to stake out your horse!” and he went on
with his work. I thought of magii, necromancers, astrologers,
alchemists, &c., all in a breath, as I stared at the strange,

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 307

calm man, with the light from one small window, or port-hole
rather, falling upon his table and his gray hairs!

The strange effect was not a little heightened by the sur-
roundings of this person. I had now, in the unbroken silence,
sufficient leisure to observe these appliances, which were en-
tirely inexplicable to me at the time. First, I noticed a
small rude furnace in one corner, near to which were scat-
tered about some small hammers, files, tongs and other tools
used in working iron and steel; while near the desk were some
ten or a dozen small models carved from wood with great
neatness, and having occasional springs, bolts, &c. of metal.
Such a maze of wheels, cogs, cranks, balls, bolts and all that
sort of thing was there, that one could form no idea of their
meaning, not even whether they all belonged to the same
machine, or were the parts of one whole, waiting to be put to-
gether !

On knots and pegs, in crannies, and strewed in all sorts of con-
fusion about the floor and on rude shelves, were every con-
ceivable variety of parts that appeared to have been formed
for machinery of models or a model. These parts were prin-
cipally of wood, as the metals seemed to have been used with
every possible frugality, since they must, of course, have been
very difficult to obtain and to transport in such a region. A
few of the simplest of the common implements of carpentry
were hung around the room or thrown about the floor. It
seemed as if the tools and their creations had all been shaken
in a bag together and then whirled around the room to roll
together, to fall or stick, where and as they might. It was
certainly a droll looking place, and there was one mysterious
seeming recess which was hung with skins, but which was,
as it appeared to me, too small for a bed, and added no little
to my curiosity.

The woman now came in.

“He 1s bruised, William,—what shall we do?”

‘ The man looked up, slightly.

808 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

“Did you bring in a deer, Molly ?”

Yes!” °

“Ts it cold?”

“ All but the hams!”

“Then skin them, and wrap the warm parts of the skin
around the bruised limb !”

“Yes, I know!” and she turned off, while he resumed his
labor.

“Well!” thought I, “this is a case! “Here I am about to
be enveloped in a reeking deer-skin, warm from the carcass,
by these wild cannibals. I wish the infernal tornado had
finished me. I have heard of such usages, but they horrify
me!” I felt most like getting up to run away, but there in
terposed the sad difficulty that I was unable to rise. After
several ineffectual efforts, which, however, attracted no sort
of attention from the rapt student at the desk, and many
muttered anathemas against fate, fools and fanatics in gene-
ral, I managed to subside, in a great degree, into a cooler
mood, and became resigned, from sheer helplessness, to trust
in anything but such Providence !—as I impiously sneered to
myself.

The woman came now with the warm skin; and after some
remonstrance on my part, the old man was roused from his
absorbed labor to envelop my extremities in this novel poul-
tice. I afterwards found that it was extensively used among
the Indians, north and south, and have since learned that this
first step towards the “pack” of wet sheet and blanket, claimed
to be invented by Priessnitz, is one of the oldest uses of our
race, and still practiced with wonderful effect in China, Russia,
Germany, &c., by the lower classes, and sometimes by the
higher, as was the case once with Murat, when he was crushed
almost into a jelly by the fall of his horse down a precipice.

He was enveloped by his wise physician, in the hide of an
ox, which was killed for the purpose, and after a long sleep,
recovered, with nearly all trace of his bruises gone. I was not

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 809

aware at the time, more than vaguely, in what good and an-
cient company I lay in my disgusting envelope; all I could
know about it was that I went to sleep very soon, and slept,
—Heaven knows how long! and awoke with the pain gone /

The old man released me, and leading me, entirely nude,
out-side the door, astounded me by dashing a bucket full of
the coldest water upon my person, which was reeking with
perspiration, and before I had fairly recovered from the effects
of this, it was followed by another and another.

This primitive sort of treatment had a wonderful effect ;
and when I again dressed, I almost thought myself born again,
so free did I feel from the distressing consequences of my
fall. I found in attempting to move about that there was
still some stiffness in my leg, but it was so slight as not to be
a matter of much importance. The bruises were gone, and
the circulation of the limb temporarily restored in a great
measure, and that was certainly miracle enough for the pre-
sent.

Though the acute pain had been entirely banished by this
novel process, yet, of course, the entire restoration was yet
slow. The muscles and tendons had been seriously strained
and injured by the weight and struggles of my horse, but,
bathing the parts in cold water, as was directed by the old
man, always soothed any painful return of inflammation.

There was a clear, beautiful spring in the rear of the
house, underneath the huge live-oaks composing the mott.
Here I limped several times a day to apply the simple resto-
yative. The little brook made its shining way through the
high grass down the slope, and at some periods of the day,
glanged prettily in the sun from beneath the green tangles
that drooped and met over it. The scene was very pleasant ;
for, seated on the mossy roots in the cool, dense shade, I could
just trace its glimmering way by glimpses through the neavy
draping of moss which depended nearly to the ground. The
stilgess, mildly stirred by the faint ripple, was so lulling,

£10 , WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

that if one did not sleep soon he was compelled to think, and
in connected strains of thought, too.

Here I sat and mused much; for, in spite of myself and
all my efforts at sneering, there was something in this woman’s
wild talk that impressed me,—and in the strange life, man-
ners and surroundings of this remarkable recluse, that had
aroused my deepest and most curious sympathy. These were
new thoughts,—strange ideas—she had spoken. This was a
new phase of life to me—this isolation—this devotion to a
fixed purpose—this self-denial, which could sever two persons
from all the common sympathies of their race, and send them
off to remote and dangerous solitudes,—change the natural
relations of the sexes, and exalt them into the incommunica-
tive and apparently crazed condition of abstraction and de-
votion to a single idea! :

“What is this Idea? What do these people hope to ac-
complish ?’’ I asked myself a thousand times. “They talk
of social wrongs,—but that is no new story,—it is simply as
old as society, that those who can find no business of their
own to attend to, should, and will employ themselves with
the business of others, and go to work to save the world!
They commonly make a good speculation of it, and are usually
corrupt as they are loud-mouthed, vulgar and stupid,—but
here seems an anomalous case. These people are clearly in
earnest. Women do not run such risks for nothing, nor do
men dedicate themselves with such singleness of purpose to
what they merely expect selfish returns from! I must get at
this idea—and get at it I will! These persons are evidently
educated, for silent and abruptly incommunicative as they
have been since I came, I have heard enough to convince
me of this much, and unravel this secret I will!”

Such, I remember, were my musings, when, after having
been tenderly cared for several days, I found myself equally
puzzled as at first, to understand what this old man was doing,
or expected to accomplish. He had made no explanatipns,

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 811

and although uniformly kind, had taken no sort of notice of the
various and ingenious hints by which I had endeavored to get
at what was his object. I had slyly tried to understand for
myself the meaning of the models which strewed the room,
but could make nothing out of them all. Though my knowl-
edge of mechanics was very slight, yet I had some idea of
general principles, which ought to have been sufficient to give
me at least a vague clue to the object attempted. I had
given up in despair; and as I could not understand the mean-
ing of the sort of hieroglyphico-transcendental language in
which they spoke to each other upon the subject of the mys-
terious machine, I determined to win upon the sympathies of
one or the other in some way, and get thus at the secret.

Accident favored me! ;

She had talked with me in the freest manner during the
first exciting period after our meeting, but since I had become
an inmate, her answers to my inquiry upon such subjects
had all been abrupt and mystical in a degree which left me
no wiser than before. ‘he old man seldom left the house,
even for exercise; but one morning, when I had almost en-
tirely recovered, I was sitting in my accustomed place by
the spring, when he came slowly walking towards me with
the feeble gait of the partial paralytic; and, greatly to my
surprise, bore my pistols along with his own gun, in. his
hands.

“‘What can this mean !’’—thought I, rising hastily to meet
him.

Giving the pistols into my hands, he merely said, with a
quiet smile :—

“The Cherokee Indians are down, young man !—and we
may have to defend our little home!”

“Ts it possible!” said I, starting with surprise. “The
Cherokees! Where are they? How did you hear ?”

“OQ, Molly keeps a good look out!—she found their trail

312 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

about day-break, and has since seen them. She has just
got in. They are on her trail now, I suppose, for we expect
them here soon !”

The blood rushed to my heart, and it beat very loud and
fast.. I had never met the Indians of any sort, as yet. Here
at once was a stern novely in the excitements that I had
courted.

T had little time to understand the thing, for we now saw and
felt the imminent necessity of hurrying towards the house
before the approaching savages. I had to assist the old man,
and the moment I got into motion, the blood rushed in a
burning tide back to my head and face, and then every limb
and fibre thrilled with a new sensation. Everything seemed
confused around me for the moment. The trees spun, and
the moss and grass were whirled together in a chaotic blend-
ing, most like that before the eyes of a drunken man; while
the only objects that I saw with perfect and vivid distinct-
ness, were the tall forms of eight or ten warriors that had
suddenly appeared in the distance, and were gliding rapidly
across a smal] “pening between the oaks, evidently with the
view of gvttui; between us and the house, and thus cutting
us off from ah-iter. When I realized this it caused a violent
start that resiered me, like an electric shock in a case of
stupor, to the full possession of all my faculties, sharpened,
indeed, into a greater than the natural coolness. The dis-
tance we had to pass was short, to be sure, but then the old
man was p:ralytic, and I was still somewhat lame.

I saw in one quick glance our great danger—that the
savages were urging their utmost speed to intercept us. A
sudden strength—almost supernatural—possessed me at once.
My eye tcok in every thing. The very undulations of the
moss enabled me to track their course, when they quickly
passed out of view behind it. I could now even hear the
twigs crush beneath their feet—when feeling that our hope

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 313

was a desperate one—I seized the old man in my arms, and
forgetting my lameness, rushed with him towards the door
of the house.

I reached it—and found it was closed for the moment. He
still hel@on to his rifle, and as the door opened to admit us,
he turned himself in my arms, and coolly presenting it, said
in a low voice, ‘“ Stop !”

The word was not fully spoken, when the ring of several
rifles from the wood was replied to by that of his own. He
dropped heavily from my arms on his own door-sill. The
Indians were upon us! I had stuck my pistols into my belt,
and now I wheeled to face them, standing over the body. The
clear ring of a rifle above my shoulder, and the staggering
fall of one of the foremost warriors showed me that “‘ Molly”
was on hand. The Indians recoiled for a moment, for it was
the chief of the party that fell beneath the shot—and then
seeing only myself astride of the body—they rushed on me
with a yell as vengeful as it was infernal.

I saw the fierce eyes of “Molly” blazing behind me as she
screamed—

“Give it to the Cherokee dogs, my boy!’’ while she plied
her ram-rod desperately—reloading for another shot.

I stood at bay with that strange flushed feeling which
always attends the consummation of despair. It was a wild and
furious struggle for a moment. The firing of my pistols was
almost instantly followed by the report of her rifle again—
this caused the Indians to hesitate slightly, which gave us time
to drag in the body of the dead or wounded man—we did not
yet know which. They saw us about to escape, and made a
rush to prevent the closing of the door. Several of them were
throwing themselves against it together, and had nearly suc-
ceeded in the effort—but the frantic woman seemed endued
with nearly supernatural strength, and with a single stroke,
felled the foremost with the butt of her rifle—while I held

814 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the door with all my excited strength. Though both of us
were wounded, we succeeded in closing the bolt, while the
Indians kept firing at the door, in the vain hope of hitting
us through it. HicKory is a very tough wood, and the closely
woven withs or poles of which it was composed weré bullet-
“proof.

Tt was not, however, proof against hatchets, and instantly
we heard the blows by which they were cutting their way
through. We reloaded our weapons in silence. The door
was fraily hung, and could not stand such a general assault
more than a few moments—but when we were ready, she
looked up with a smile that seemed very strange at such a
time.

“T prepared for them long ago!” she said, in a low, hissing
voice—as she punched out a bit of mud from between two of
the pickets of the house—and then thrust her rifle through
what I now saw was a shrewdly disguised port-hole, bearing
directly upon the door. She fired, and a yell of agony from
the outside followed. As she withdrew her rifle, I also fired
my pistol through the port-hole into the midst of the flurried
and astonished group, which had gathered about a fallen
warrior. Their discomfiture was now complete, and with ges-
tures of furious menace, I could see they commenced a retreat
more rapid than the charge had been, and as little expected. .

The woman, who now appeared to have grown wild with
rage, quickly sent after their retreat another shot from the
door-way, which she had impetuously thrown open. She
screamed her defiance, and shook her clenched hand at them
like some crazed “‘ Madge Wildfire,” as they disappeared in
yet greater confusion from her shot, and turning towards me
with lips blue and compressed—until they were thin as wafers
across her teeth—muttered faintly—

“They have slain my husband!” and staggering towards
the still insensible body—her flashing eyes suddenly grew

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 815

dim—her face deathly’ pale, and dropping her rifle to the
floor, she fell upon the body, clutching it convulsively about
the neck.

Now came the time for me to repay, in some measure at
least, the kindness of this singular couple. They both lay
stretched upon the floor insensible, and apparently dead. It
was a horrid sight—for a moment I was stupefied as I gazed
upon them—but the last few moments, in thoroughly rousing
my whole life to new sensations, had learned me a stern lesson
in presence of mind. I sprang first for some water, and
dashed it into the faces of the motionless pair, and then
kneeling beside them, rubbed their hands and feet with all
my strength. It was but a little time before I convinced
myself that neither one of them was yet dead. This relieved
and encouraged me greatly, so that I urged my efforts to
resuscitate them, and, after a few minutes more, commenced
examining the old man’s body, to find and staunch the wound.

TI had seen no blood as yet, and therefore supposed it must,
of course, bleed internally, and consequently be fatal. What
was my hopeful surprise to find that it was apparently a
graze-shot—as the ball had ploughed up the flesh along the
hinder part of the neck near the base of the skull; and as it
was, evidently, not deep when I probed it with my finger, I
came to the conclusion that the bone had been merely indented
—not shattered—and that the spinal chord had been more
paralyzed by the shock than seriously injured. Warmed still
more pleasantly by this discovery, I rapidly staunched the
blood, which had been running down inside the collar of his
buckskin coat, and was, therefore, not visible.

The wound of the woman was bleeding profusely. I soon
found that it consisted of an ugly flesh wound in the right
arm, which passed ‘through into the breast, but whether into
the chest or not I could only conjecture—but hoped for the
best, as I saw it, too, bled externally and freely. I staunched
the wounds as well as my poor skill in surgery would admit.

816 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

She gradually recovered from the swoon, and, half rising,
stared vaguely about her for an instant—but her first words
were—

“Ts he alive?” This was spoken in a suffocating voice,
while her lips trembled.

“ He still lives, and I hope is not mortally hurt !”

“God be thanked, and let humanity rejoice!” she said
solemnly, and with a start she sprang to her feet. “You are
hurt, young man—I see blood upon you !”

I had been too much excited to think of my own wound,
although I now felt that the pain had been considerable—
however, it proved to be, upon examination, but slight, and
gave me of itself but little trouble afterwards. It was merelya
flesh wound in the thigh of the same leg that had been injured
in the storm, and, as is frequently the case, rather accelerated
the cure of that injury. The vital functions, thus extraordi-
narily aroused, it is well known, do often throw off the old as
well as the new disease, by the one great effort thus concen-
trated upon the local seat of the disturbance. Be this as it
may, I did not suffer from lameness much after this—although
I had a great amount of exertion devolved upon me by this
sudden catastrophe.

The woman, after assisting me in dressing my wound, said
to me gravely—

“‘Now, young man, much depends upon you! You are not
a great deal hurt—as God would have it—while I am griev-
ously—and my poor William must probably remain long in
this stupor !”

She was carefully examining him without disturbing my
dressings, further than to saturate them with water.

“‘T can hope,” she said, as she rose from the examination
and drew a long breath—“I can hope tfat your opinion of
the wound may prove correct—for his pulse, though slow, is
strong enough yet—but it must be a long time before he
recovers his faculties. His brain is so immense and so dis-

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 817

preportioned to his physical strength, that his recovery must
be very slow, if it come at all. Young man, I have dedi-
cated my life without stint or reservation to him, and although
it is impossible for me yet to tell the extent of the injuries I
have received, yet I must not stop to regard them—I must
win that glorious mind back to the world again, cost what it
will to me. I count myself as nothing weighed in the scale
with his usefulness. He must be saved at any rate, to finish
his great work! I saved your life—a lost wanderer, beaten
down by the tempest—helpless, bewildered, wounded and for-
lorn—and now all that I ask of you is, help to save him!
Make no remonstrances !”—as I was proceeding to deprecate
the disregard of self she spoke of, —“ make no remonstrances,
my son!” she said mournfully—‘TI must require it of you
not to interfere with—but obey me—for the time. I cannot
be moved—I will nurse him—you must provide us with food
and water in the meanwhile. I want no farther assistance.
I know him best—you can render no assistance to him per-
sonally. God only knows how far this ugly hurt of mine
may prove injurious. I will be careful of it for his sake, at
least !’”

“T promise to obey you. I feel that I owe my life to you,
and I will cheerfully resign it to serve you or your husband!”
“JT knew as much, my child!—I knew as much—an7
was selfish of me to remind you of obligation when you had
already more than trebly repaid whatever there might be, by
saving that dear body which lies so placid there, from the
defacing hands of those murderous brutes—who, as with those
who stcned the Prophet of old—knew not what they did!—
But it is ao selfish anxiety for self that has thus made me
forget wlat was due to hospitality—it was for him /—for his
dear life!—I spoke so eagerly, forgetting all things else !—

come, let us place him on the poor bed!” .
We immediately removed him to his place upon a raised
couch of dried moss and leaves, covered with skins, which had

818 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

heretofore been resigned to me. As we laid him down, his
pulsation evidently quickened, but his eyes were still un-
opened, and his limbs remained palsied. I brought water
from the epring, which I freely used under the directions of
the woman, who by this time had become too faint for farther
exertion. The only immediate effect was a partial one, even
with our slight expectation. He breathed still more freely,
and slightly moved his head. I now had to apply the same
remedy to herself, and soon had the satisfaction, after using
the cold water freely, and enveloping her in skins, of which
there was a large quantity piled on a sort of garret scaffolding
near the roof, to see her fall into a deep but troubled sleep.
I enveloped his body in much the same way, and then had
leisure to look about me, and find what store of provision we
had on hand.

I was greatly disappointed to find but little venison cr
meat of any kind stored in the house, and this filled me with
uneasiness, for I did not yet feel myself strong enough to
hunt, and could not help dwelling upon the frightful fate
before us in the event of my wound proving worse than I an-
ticipated. I did what I could for it until the most resistless
drowsiness overtook me, and falling upon a pile of skins, I
sunk into the deep sleep consequent upon extreme excitement
and loss of blood.

I was waked by the shrill cries of the woman, and, as I
sprang to my feet was horrified to perceive from the flushed ap-
pearance of her face, her wild ejaculations and even screams,
that she was suffering from a raging brain fever. She tossed
her body violently to and fro, moaning as she pressed her
throbbing head convulsively between her hands, and occasion-
ally shrieking at the top of her voice incoherently. It was a
melancholy sight, indeed. I knew but one remedy in reach;
and if there had been a thousand, perhaps none would have
availed so well as the simple one to which I now resorted,
almost upon compulsion! I hobbled to the spring for a fresh

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 319

supply of its cooling waters. Returning with equal difficulty,
I found the fever even gaining in violence. It was certainly an
awful sight: this stern, heroic woman helplessly tossed in blinded
struggles by the side of that calm and gray picture of death,
which, unmoved by it all, breathed on like one in a sweet sleep.
I could only reduce the fever gradually, for my strength was
not sufficient to lift her, and for hours I sat beside her, sooth-
ing, as well as I was able, her convulsions, by constant appli-
cations of cold water. It was, or seemed at least, a weary
time before I gained any ground, and my wound broke out
afresh from the excessive fatigue; besides, 1 was fainting
with hunger and horror combined. At last I thought I might
venture to leave her awhile, as she grew more. composed, and
I sought some food. I took a portion of our small supply
and rekindled the coals of the smouldering fire, but the bleed-
ing seemed to increase, and I was compelled to atiend to my
wounds before I could cook the flesh. I stopped the flow of
blood, and was eating sparingly of the spare meal, when I
suddenly became aware of the fact that I was the keeper of a
maniac !

Hearing a sudden noise behind me, I looked around. The
woman,—with flushed face and glittering eyes, was rapidly
endeavoring to disengage her butcher knife from the sheath
where it hung on the belt of her bullet pouch, which I had
taken off and suspended on its usual hook of buck’s horn.
She was muttering rapidly, “I will do it myself! yes! yes!
I will do it myself! The wretches did not finish their work!
They did not know how hard it was for a god to die! He is not
dead—he suffers! It shall not be! They sent their blood-
hounds to murder a true Christ! He who came to redeem them!
They struck at him in wrath! They did not finish their work
—but I will do it! and go with him!”

The knife was in her hand, and she was darting across the
room towards the unconscious man, when I, who had risen
in the meantime, seized her suddenly, and with a shriek as

320 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

she gazed round at me, she struck desperately at my breass
with the knife. I warded off the blow, and she dropped it!
Then, with a still more harrowing cry, she fainted across the
body.

Never was horror amplified to a more intolerable extreme
of fear and dread than now, in all my experience before or
since. She was crazed,—we were nearly out of food of ary
kind !—and could I dare, even if able, to go out and leave her
here alone? It seemed just as shocking to me to confine her
with thongs as to leave her alone. What might not the
furious strength of a maniac accomplish ?

Here was a climax! I acknowledge, I felt in no hurry to
restore her from her fainting fit. Murder, madness, stupor
and starvation, all rose in appalling succession before me.

“What could I do? What should Ido? I bowed my head
upon my hands and wept,—completely overcome by this
tragic combination of fearful extremities.

A loud hurrah, accompanied by the clatter of horses’ feet
now broke the stifling stillness, and springing ur, I rushed
forward, or rather hobbled earnestly towards the door to see
if it was yet secure.

As I reached it, it was burst open violently, and in rushed
wy friend C , the planter! followed by several negros.
He was a good-humored, vehement, boisterous man, and ex-
claimed, in a loud voice, as his eye fell upon me :—

“ Caught at last !—Why what’s all this, my good fellow?”
looking round him, in astonishment and horror. ‘ What
sort of a d——l’s den is this you've fallen into ?—have you
been playing the ‘Kilkenny cats’ out here in this droll-look-
ing place? Are those two people dead? What’s been happen-
ing ?”

‘We've been having a brush with the Cherokees,—these
persons are wounded !”

“Hah! the very fellows I’ve just been drubbing. They
carried the bodies of several killed and wounded. You must

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 821

have had close work of it, my boy! We finished the business
for them, though,—only three got off?”

“Glad of it,—but help that woman,—she has fainted.”

“Great God !—a woman here,—and in that dress ?”

He sprang forward to the bed-and looked at her!

“Tt is so,—as I am alive. Boys,”—turning to the negroes
who stood at the door, rolling up the whites of their eyes in
wonder and awe,—“run, boys, and get some water,—you
saw the spring out there as we came?” then turning to me,
with a broad expression of amazement, he asked :—

“Who can these people be? Did they drop from the clouds?
She’s wounded! Did she fight too?”

“Indeed, she did,—she did the most of it!”

“But what are they doing here with all this droll trump-
ery? Did she faint from loss of blood? Is she badly hurt?
This old man looks as if he were dead?” So he ran on, and
without waiting for answer, and turning, stepped hastily to
the door, and shouted at the top of his voice:—

“You Tom !—Scip !—Jim !—come along with that water!
Here v:e these poor people dying, and you lazy vagabonds
you—..i, cre you are!” and the three negroes rushed for-
ward 0 the deor of the room, bearing each a brimming gourd
in one }:.nd and his rifle in the other. The foremost stam-
mered out :—

“Heerd you, Massa,—was comin’ fast as we could,—but
Jim say be war afraid ob dem cu’rus folks and dem cunjura-
tion wheels thar,—he was ’bout to slope, an I cotch he.”

“Hang Jim and his conjurations !—give me the gourd, you
rascal !”’

“Da ho am, Massa!” while Jim, thrusting his own gourd
from behind, into the hand of Tom, did “slope” out, sure
enough, ro!ling his big eyes behind him as if he expected to
see some horrid witch in pursuit.

“Here’s Jim’s, too!—nigger, fool! He afeard! Here,

21

822 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Massa, here’s Scip’s, too! He fool!” and the second darkie
glided furtively from the door, looking over his shoulder.

The Panter in the meantime was stooping over the silent
forms of the couple, and administering the cooling water to
them, while-Tom stood by and looked on with a sort of half
grin of heroical indifference, not a little heightened in its effect
by the conscious expression of superiority and trepidation
which still lingered upon his face, since he looked after the
hasty retreat of his sable comrades in arms.

“She recovers!” said the good-hearted Planter, eagerly,
lifting his head. The woman opened her eyes and sprang
half erect, uttering at the same time a sudden shriek, so shrill
that I inveluntarily placed my hands upon my ears. The
Planter stepped backwards, and Tom, in spite of his heroism,
vanished in a twinkle out of the door.

“What does this mean?” said C , glancing quickly
around at me. “Js she crazy ?’’ and he sprang towards her,
instinctively, forcing her down upon the bed, while he turned
his head slightly to listen for my answer.

“Yes, she is,—hold her !—hold her firmly !—she is not
sane now, and may do more mischief!”

“TJ understand scalping,—but this infernal den is too much
for me!’’ exclaimed he, as he pressed her down to the bed
again, while her shrieks redoubled, and her struggles became
more furious. He was a very strong man, and yet all his
strength was required to keep her down, and he turned to me
with an expression of exhaustion and flurried distress, as he
exclaimed,—“ Why didn’t you warn me of this?”

“T had no time!”

“One word would have sufficed !”

“ And what good would that have done?”

“T might have understood something !”

“No !—you could not have known more after an explana-
tion than you can see !’’

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 823

* And what is that?”

“Why, you perceive that the woman is out of her head,—
has a brain fever. She suffers from her wound, her anxiety
for her husband, and the additional excitement of the late
conflict, that is all!”

“What shall we do?” he asked, in dismay, as it became
every moment more difficult to keep her down.

“T must call the negros back,—for I can be of little assist-
ance to you!”

“The stupid fools !—you can’t get them to come back !”

“Yes I can!” and seizing his rifle, I hobbled to the door
and looked out. ‘Tom was the only one in sight. I shouted
to him, ordering his return. The fellow shook his head, and
looked furtively askance towards me. I instantly raised the
rifle, and, as I brought it to bear upon him, peremptorily
ordered his return, under penalty of a ball through hiswoolly
head. The habit of obedience conquered his fears in a mea-
sure, and he came back with a slow, unwilling step.

‘““Why, you cowardly rascal!” I said, in an angry and con-
temptuous tone, which I thought might sting and rouse his
pride,—for I knew he was really a brave fellow, but super.
stitious, as were all his class—“I thought you had some
manhood in you,—a great big lubber like you to run away
from a sick and wounded woman! I am ashamed of you, Tom.
Come in here, your master needs you to help him hold her !”

“Dat !—dat !—dat !—no woman, Massa!” He stammered
hesitatingly, as he looked up humbly for a moment. “Dat
witch,—she make poor mgger die like rotten sheep if he
touch um !””

“T tell you, you fool, the woman is no witch; she is a
good woman, and has a bad fever, and does not know what
she is doing !”

“But, Massa, what all dat conjure-wheels do dar if she am
no witch ?”’ he persisted, in a more cheerful vote but stil:
hanging back.

824 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

“Why, you stupid fellow!—did you never see a wheel,
Tom ?”

‘Yes, Massa, but den dem aint’ cart-weels !’

“Fellow!” said I, provoked at his tenacious stupidity,
“those are parts of small machines, and can hurt neither you
nor me. Come in, this moment, without another word, and
assist your master to hold the woman !”

I seized him by the collar and pushed him in, saying, as I
looked significantly at my rifle—

“Do as you are ordered, or remember this !”

The Planter, who was nearly exhausted by the continued
violence of the convulsions, when he saw the cowering negro
anter, saluted him with a wrathful oath, which we will be
excused from repeating, and in a voice of thunder, ordered him
to seize the woman’s arms, enforcing his command with a
furious kick, followed by gentle insinuation that he would
dash his brains out, if he dared to let her up. Tom took
hold evidently with fear and trembling, but still with all his
might.

““What are we to do with this she-dragon?” gasped the
poor Planter, wiping the sweat from his brow. “It will take
half-a-dozen men to hold her at this rate—we shall have to
tie her !”

At this moment an extraordinary change came over the
face of the raving woman. The face of the negro—as he
stooped above her, holding her arms and body down—was, of
course, immediately over hers. The moment her eyes rested
upon it she ceased to struggle, and lay—gazing fixedly up at
it without moving lip or muscle. We both noticed it at the
same moment, and almost held our breath to watch the result.

After some little while, she began to speak in nearly her
ordinary tone, except that it was more measured. It had
before been so shriekingly incoherent, that we could only dis-
tinguish here and there a phrase.

“Yes! yes! Poor child of persecution, you are here!

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 825

Your pale tyrant is gone—he was my tyrant, too! With his
foot upon your neck, he clutched with bloody hands at mine.
Then I was furious because I must be free! You come te
console—because the oppressed have learned to know what
gentle pity is. You have Cain’s mark upon your clouded
brow—but so has truth. There is the allegory! ‘The meek
shall inherit the earth!’—‘He that was first shall be last!’
That brow shall grow bright once more—the curse shall be
annealed !—It shall grow pure and white with love and truth
—not pale of fear—livid with murder, and flushed with the
ghastly mark of bloody hands! I hate my guilty race!” she
continued to murmur in a lower voice—“I hate our ferocious
cowardice! We dare not be men like the hunting fathers of |
thy hunted race—the hairy children of the accursed Cain!
We dare not meet brute force with brute force, and hand to
claw grapple with the lion in his might! We sneak behind
our cunning, and pervert the laws of mechanics—which govern
the Universe, rule the destinies of men and the earth—into
the horrible agents of wholesale destruction from behind our
sheltered ramparts !””

“Why, what is the woman ranting about?” said the Planter
nervously—turning to me with a bewildered look. “TI ’most
‘believe she is a witch myself! Who ever heard such wild
gabble? And yet she talks very plain!”

She had stopped when he spoke, and deliberately turned
her eyes upon him, and I saw nothing more in their expression
now than I had noted from the first—a sort of calm, intense
enthusiasm or stern elevation. So far as appearances went,
the crazy fit had passed, and she, if not restored to sanity,
‘had at least returned to her habitual mood and manner. She
spoke very coldly—

“Yes!—‘ranting about ?’—a convenient word that! I
rant when you either will not or dare not understand! I
rant when I tell you truths you have not the soul or the
heart to face! I rant when I tell you that you are either an

326 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

iasensate brute, a maudlin fool, or a selfish tyrant!—I do
not mean that you are all or any one of these things in your
own responsible deed—but I mean that you and I, and that
young man there—our whole race !—deserve such epithets !—
because we have and are conspiring together—without con-
cert, even—but from the individual selfishness which has
either been educated into us or has been deliberately assumed
by ourselves in spite of experience—to oppress our fellow-
men—not of one color—but of all/—of our own! Release
me!” and with a sudden effort, she threw the terrified negro
across the room and sprang to her feet. We both rose to
seize her, but she walked with the utmost calmness of look
, and manner right up to the astounded Planter.

“Do not place your hands upon me again. I am perfectly
myself now. I know I have been delirious—I am not so any
longer. Forgive what I have said, that you did not under-
stand, and done, that may have been rude and violent, for
the paroxysm has passed, and I now know you as you are.
You have no doubt been kind, and I shall thank you asa
brother !”’

My friend was entirely confounded by this sudden change,
-and stared at the woman with such an expression of almost
ludicrous surprise, that I could not for the life of me restrain
a slight disposition to smile—particularly when I caught a
glimpse of the eager and abject form of Tom creeping
stealthily behind her, and from a respectful distance, catch-
ing, with pricked ears, open mouth, and wide staring eyes,
every word that fell from her lips.

“Does he live?” she said to me, as she turned slowly
towards the old man, and bent over him—feeling his pulsa-
tion—before I could answer she looked up—

“Yes! it is all well as yet. Leave him to me—he will
recover soon in my charge. Thank God !—he was insensible
while I was so!—was he not?” she asked eagerly, turning
her head.

‘

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 327

“Yes; he has not moved yet!”

“We can’t leave this poor woman here alone !””—exclaimed
my friend, with returning self-possession—“ We must remove
them to my house and have them cared for !””

“No, friend—that cannot be!’’ said the woman—“ We live
here or we die here! If you wish to do any thing, send your
slaves here with provisions and some simple comforts. Leave
that young man with me, and we will nurse him ourselves !”

My friend was about to answer vehemently with his usual
rough impatience of contradiction, but I appealed to him in a
beseeching look for acquiescence—for the present at least.
I found some difficulty, in the hurried and whispered conver-
sation which ensued while she turned back to affectionate
offices—in convincing him that it was best to let this strange
and unmanageable woman have her own way—that we must
humor her, or we could do nothing for her.

He finally consented, with evident reluctance, to remain
with me, and send Tom back to the plantation for supplies.
It was about twenty miles distant, and we might expect to
hear something of our scout by mid-day to-morrow. When
it was explained to Tom what was expected of him, he accepted
the mission with astonishing alacrity, and expressed with
eagerness, in his own quaint fashion, his readiness to do
every thing that speed and energy could accomplish, for he
said, with a shamed and sneaking glance at me—

“She aint no witch—Jim are jes the nigger fool I sed he
war! She be a good woman, massa!—Tom will gib he’s
scalp fur hur any time!” and springing upon his horse he
galloped away, rifle in hand, and alone across these dangerous
wilds.

“Tom is all right now!” I said, with an attempt at a smile
aswwe turned into the house.

“Yes; he’s brave as a bull-dog, when he knows what he’s
doing,” answered my friend, with a contemplative look, as we
turned towards the round house—“ But, by heaven !—I’d like

328 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to know where he gets his sudden confidence from—for this
woman seems now almost as much of a witch to me as she
did at first to him! She must be either a witch or a mad-
woman !”

“‘ Nonsense !” said I, “she is neither!”

I reconciled our Planter, in some degree, to what, appa-
rently, there was no mode of escape from, and on re-entering
the house, he acted with considerable circumspection, not a
little to my amusement !—TI could not help perceiving that
this caution was not a little tempered with awe.

The woman continued perfectly quiet—administered to her
husband in many sagacious though unusual ways, and he evi-
dently improved.

Tom returned punctually the next day, bringing with him
a supply of creature comforts and leading my horse. I was
greatly surprised to see the animal back again, and turning
to my friend, stared him in the face, exclaiming—

“Why, where did Tom get my horse? This is the first time
T’ve thought of him since the fight—I supposed he must have
been carried off by the Cherokees !”

‘He laughed heartily, while Tom grinned his broadest grin.

“Yah! yah! yah, massa! Dat witch-er-woman witch he
back agin !”

Tom had brought another companion, in whose pluck he
had more confidence, I suppose, and they both laughed with
great apparent enjoyment at this sally. My friend slapped
me on the shoulder pleasantly—

“Tm afraid you would have gone off on a broom-stick sure
enough, but that your horse was wiser than yourself, and
knew his way home better! We took his back trail, expecting
to find some of your bones, at least, and it brought us to this
_ place !” 7

“ Well, I shall learn to place my trust in horses more here-
after—that is all!” and we proceeded to arrange our stores.
In finding places to deposite them around the single chamber,

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. ‘ 329

I took an opportunity to examine the little recess of which I
have made mention. I was not much surprised to find it
filled with books—for that I was prepared to expect—but for
the number of rare and valuable works upon oNE subject, I
had never seen it surpassed, even in extensive and pretentious
libraries. They were nearly all works upon Social Science,
and especially in its relations to Mechanics. I had only time
to glance hastily over the titles, but they impressed me quite
as strangely as had the appearance of the room and its wheels
and models in the first place. This discovery only served to
increase my curiosity.

We soon had every thing arranged in some sort of rude
comfort—and as it was too late for any body to return to
the plantation, my friend consented to remain until morn-
ing. My wound proved less formidable, now that there
were others to wait upon the wounded. The old man was
gradually waking and the woman continued perfectly calm.

Tom was very active now, and quickly produced for us an
admirable supper. He was very alert in serving the woman,
and would jump eagerly at her slightest gesture, and ran to
do any errand she might require. It was even amusing to
observe how reverentially he watched her and obeyed the
slightest word or movement of the hand, and even endeavored
to anticipate her very thought.

She received it all as a matter of course, merely deigning
the acknowledgment of a look. She seldom spoke to us, and
then it was in an abrupt and almost imperative manner, which
excessively disgusted my Planter friend—though he obeyed
her with nearly the alacrity of Tom himself—and then would
come back to me growling in an undertone, most furiously
about—* A crazy harriden !—an insolent virago !—a ranting
fanatic !—a wier-woman !—a witch !—a she-devil,” &c. I did
not pay much attention to all these expletives, for I felt how
entirely impulsive they were, and how little they expressed of
his real feeling about her.

330 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

We passed the night quietly, and had the satisfaction to
find in the morning that the old man had opened his eyes,
and after his bath, seemed entirely conscious—recognizing
me with a smile, and my friend with a slight but placid move-
ment of the head. He made no attémpt to speak, and it
soon became apparent that he had, temporarily, at least, lost
the power of speech.

We were all greatly shocked at discovering this sad mis-
fortune; but the woman, although I could clearly see that
she shuddered at the discovery, remained apparently cool,
and only remarked :—

“T said his recovery must be slow,—but whether it come
or not, I shall be content, for his glorious brain has been
spared; I can see that in his clear, firm eye, and if he only
recovers the use of his hands and body, the great work may
yet be accomplished!’ and she turned off about her domestic
duties, as he nodded a sublimely placid acquiescence,—at
least so it seemed to me!

The Planter was early ready to return,—telling me that
he would send over a servant every day, or come himself to
see how we were getting on. He offered to leave Tom with
us, but I had stoutly refused, and the woman peremptorily.
Tom brought up the horses the Planter had mounted, and
the other slave was also in the saddle, when Tom, who had
been standing during the moments of leave-taking, came for-
ward, and making a humble bow at his master’s stirrup, said,
in a faltering voice :—

‘“‘Massa!—you please to gib Tom leave to stay here and
wait on dis gemmen and dat sick lady ?”

“Why, Tom, she wont have you, my good fellow! I’ve
offered to leave you already !”

Tom seemed greatly humiliated by this speech, and bowed
his head with a look of deep mortification for a moment, and
then lifting it suddenly, exclaimed, with a droll look of eager,
entreaty :—

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 831

“Dat no matter to Tom, Massa! He sleep under de tree
outside, and bring de wood, and fetch de water from de spring,
and no look at um if she no like it for Tom!”

I said to the planter, in a low voice :—

“Perhaps you had better let him stay! The poor fellow
seems to be very much in earnest, and may be of assist-
ance !””

“You know I wanted you to keep him,—but what will
this virago inside say to it? I believe she has bewitched him
already,—do you think she won’t whisk him off on a broom-
stick, nor anything of that sort?”

“0, no! I'll make his peace with her,—I’ll engage! but
I want him to stay now,—because this sudden and unexpected
sort of sympathy and veneration for this woman interests me,
and I wish to trace its real cause,—at present it is entirely
inexplicable !”’

“QO, very good! Tom, you may stay. It seems as curious
to me as to you. I shall come over as often as I can to see
you all,—but,” he added, leaning down from his saddle and
speaking in a whisper:—“I want you to beware how Tom
hears any more of her fanatical talk about Cain and the
darkies,—such things always lead to mischief, and I’m half
afraid that is why Tom has so soon got over his scare about
her!”

“Yes !—yes!” I answered, with a smile,—“TI’ll see to
Tom’s morals.”

“Then, good-by, and look sharp for witches and Red-
skins !””

So saying, he struck spurs into his horse and gallopped
off beneath the mossy hung boughs, followed by his servant,
while Tom, with great glee, unharnessed his horse and led
him off to stake him out near mine. His manner was comi-
cally exulting, as I watched him until nearly out of view.
He would throw his head far back, seeming to be in a parox-
ism of low laughter,—the chuckling sound of which would

832 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

just reach me; he would occasionally toss up his arms in
exultation, or jump into the air, striking his heels together
twice or thrice e’er he came down, and make sundry other
antics, to the evident astonishment of his horse, who would
suddenly jerk backwards, while Tom, in total unconsciousness,
would tug away at the lariat, uttering some comical expletive,
until he got him started again, and then go on rejoicing !

I did not mention the circumstance to the woman, having
determined that she and Tom might settle the affair after
their own fashion. For several days I could see nothing
of him, though the wood and water necessary for us was
regularly deposited at the door. The woman, or myself as
it happened, would take it in; and, as she made no comment
upon the obvious singularity of the circumstance, I did not,
of course, allude to it. Indeed, the terms of our intercourse
were so monosyllabic that I could only speak to her concern-
ing matters of plain necessity. Her wound had to be cared
for, but most of all that of the husband! She sometimes
remembered to cook, but when she did not do so I attended
to that necessary duty myself. My friend had not returned
as I expected, nor had we heard a word from him as yet.

The husband grew better with unexpected rapidity, and
when he finally was able, with slight assistance, to resume
his accustomed chair, it was a grand occasion with us; for
the woman had evidently clung with a pertinacity, which was
still afraid to precipitate its despair, to the hope that when
he had recovered the use of his constitutional strength suffi-
ciently to be able to use his limbs for locomotion, the faculty
of speech would return to him—therefore she had applied
herself to the restoration of his physique exclusively, and had,
with an obvious feeling of trepidation, avoided calling out
from him the slighest attempt at using his voice. Now came
the shock in full! We had seated him in the chair, and he
glanced around with a beaming look upon the instruments of
his labor. He even picked them up, such as were near him,

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 833

with an affectionate familiarity, and seemed to think of
resuming his labors where he left them off. Her eyes brimmed
and glistened as she watched him, and when he took up his
magnifying glass she leaned forward, suddenly, and asked,
with an eager and hopeful expression :—

“William, is the light good?”

He nodded his head pleasantly, but spoke no word; she
turned pale at this, and said, in an agonized ¢voice, while with
blue and parted lips she hung upon his answer :—

“William, why do you not speak ?”

He made an inarticulate movement of the lips, raised his
finger to them, and shook his head sadly. She clasped her
hands and staggered backwards, but I caught her. For one
minute she was motionless, except a slow shivering of the
body; and with rigid features and lips compressed, leaned
against me, with such an expression of hopeless abandon, that
I could not help the tears springing to my eyes. She soon
recovered her self-possession, and raising herself erect, she
coldly remarked :—

“He can at least talk for humanity in deeds; his eyes have
language enough for us to converse.”

From this time she seemed to me as one stricken; she
moved about in tearless silence,—never speaking to me,
except when compelled, and then only in monosyllables.

. She never attempted to speak to him again, except by looks
or signs, of which they had in a few days established a simple
but sufficiently significant system. I never heard this woman
complain once of her wound, though it was clearly a severe
one, and she must have suffered greatly. She went calmly
on as usual, watching every want of her husband, and even
anticipating many. He had recovered sufficiently now to be
able to resume his labor, and she kept near him all the time,
seeming to understand perfectly the effect of every new
combination attempted, and the purpose which was to be
attained.

334 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

So much was she absorbed, that she never appeared to
notice the fact that we had heard nothing from my friend,
the planter, and that still our stores of provisions, wood and
water, did not appear to diminish in the least, and that I had
only to hobble to the door to bring them in each morning.
She asked no questions, and saw nothing but what was required
for her husband.

My life now grew horribly monotonous. The eternal silence,
broken only by an occasional word to me, which had sole
reference to some one of the details of our material wants ;—
that dumb worker, so earnestly plying his curious and delicate
labors ;—that stern, and almost sleepless watcher, whose eyes
were always upon him, and who scarcely seemed to be aware of
my presence ;—that noiseless guardianship over our necessities
from without ;—all taken together, had such an effect upon
my imagination, that sometimes I really believed myself to be
in a dream, and that the whole of these surroundings were
unreal as drifting phantasmagoria through the skies of cloud-
land.

I had noticed for some days past that the eyes of the woman
shone with an unusual brightness, and that to all my questions
with regard to her wound she gave either evasive or abrupt
answers. The ball had not yet been extracted, to my knowl-
edge, though I had good reason to believe that this stern
being had attempted to cut it out herself in private. In
so deep a wound there would be, of course, a severe and
dangerous sloughing. She had given me no sort of oppor-
tunity to judge how far it had progressed, for, like a wounded
panther, she went sullenly apart to live or die alone at the
feet of her mate.

I was inexpressibly shocked to notice these dreary symp-
toms, and isolated and unsympathetic as our relations were,
and had been, I wept like a child when I saw her at last
fall upon the bed her husband had so lately occupied, and
with the first expression of utter helplessness I had yet heard

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 335

from her, exclaim :—“It is all over! The struggle is closed
for me! He will finish the work alone!”

I reached her side as soon as possible. She was most pain-
fully haggard, and her eyes were distended to a degree which
made their expression seem peculiarly ghastly. She recog-
nized me with a smile of such genial sweetness, as for the
first time showed me directly the infinite depth and tenderness
of that strong heart. She had never revealed herself to me
before, so that I felt her recognition; she had kept all her
sympathies with an austere exclusiveness for her husband,
and those she had given to me were merely general, such as
she would have given to any other member of the human
family. She beckoned me to come to her. I came and
threw myself on my knees by the side of her couch, she
placed her hand upon my head, saying, in a low, solemn
voice :—

“My son, while I am yet strong enough, I wish to explain
much to you that you neither have nor could have compre-
hended. I seem to you, no doubt, a wild and incomprehen-
sible fanatic—my husband a dreamer! Neither idea is the
true one. We are both enthusiasts—and love our common
purpose more than we love each other—for a great thought
is, and should be, far more sacred than any passion. Love
is only spiritualized in reality when two souls mect in the
same idea! Animals have passions, even stronger than ours
—but have they a purpose? They have the purpose of living.
We have, or ought to have, a higher! We have something
more to do than to ‘live, and move, and have a being’—we
have to work.! Work for what? For its men and women—
its animals, its birds, its insects, its fishes, its reptiles, its
monsters, anthropophagi, and all !—Work to elevate, enlarge,
expand—to beautify—to glorify! Work to make the flowers
like those we know in dreams—the trees express our thoughts
of ‘overshadowing strength and love—the rocks, of grandeur

336 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

—the mountains, of sublime! We must unchain the winter
—quell the torrid sun !—

We must charm the water—make its sedges spread— :
Must win all bitter berries up and make them turn to bread !
E’en the insensate sod
Must wake to know its life,
To feel it has a God,
And join the upward strife!

So she spoke, in a rapid, distinct manner, for some moments,
and then abruptly ceased. This wild and half-poetical rhap-
sody impressed me quite as solemnly as the mythical mutterings
of a Pythoness would have done, and I could make no reply.
Very soon she commenced speaking again, in a voice still
more subdued.

“This sounds to you as altogether vague, because the
thoughts are new. But do you know these thoughts are as
old as humanity? Men have always thought so—when they
had brains to think with; they have not, except in isolated
instances, dared to speak what they knew! They have hidden
their sense in allegories—they have spoken in double mean-
ings—or they have demonstrated in words. This was not
sufficient. Mankind requires something more than words!
The hieroglyphics of our infancy, as a race, must not be ren-
dered into demonstration alone—but into physical realities.

‘We must speak in creations—like Gods !—if we wish to be
worthy of our trust. We must prove that he—and we!—
possessing the ‘one talent’—(which simply means our earth) !
are worthy; and that it may not be given to him possessing
five! In a word, we shall not and cannot wrap that ‘one
talent in a napkin!’ We must work in our own despite and
for our own self-respect—must be doing for the good of others,
as well as ourselves !”

“But how ?” said I, humbly—“ It is easy enough to dig!”

“OQ yes !—to delve is the lot of our race! But we must

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 837

dig up hill—moles, and all low beasts and reptiles climh
towards the apex, Aspiration has no wings !—It climbs !—
it does not soar !—all that even Shakspeare says is, that

+ Aspiration breedeth wings!’

We mast cultivate the facility—the habit of going up will
soon accustom us to new ideas and modes of thought that
had never been suggested—but I wander! The relation
which I intended to give you is a very simple one. You
asked me how we should work? I will tell you how Z nay
worked, and why ?

“JT was poor as strength always is! The knaves starve
wisdom because it is child-like! I was a daughter of New
England—I was proud and self-reliant—I determined very
early in my life that I would support myself! My parents,
from whom my plan met but little sympathy, of course opposed
violently my purpose to go to some great cotton mill, and
work there for my own support. They were poor, too, but
proud of an ancestral position; they could and would not resign
it, as they supposed, to ignoble associations! We had @ long
and bitter struggle—the amount of which was, that I learned
to hate most heartily their cowardly apprehension of the
‘say-so’ of the world! I carried my point, and must acknowl-
edge that, for one day, my romantic delusion with regard

"to the general idea of associated labor in public mills and
manufactories, was nearly kept up—but the filth and want
of ventilation first shocked me.

“In a few hours after the excitement of my new posi-
tion had passed, I began to feel myself stifled—my mouth
was dry and my lungs suffered from the cotton-lint, which
filled the air in infinite particles. I nearly fainted when we
were turned loose late in the evening, and the sensation was
little decreased when I returned to my room in one of the
regular boarding houses. It was an affair of seven by six,

Without a pretence of ventilation, and contained two heds.
92

338 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

“The food was horrible! The mercenary wretches em-
ployed to grind, and starve, and rot the life out of several
thousand helpless girls, proved worthy of their employers !
They were just as ruthless barterers in human flesh as hell
could ask, or millionaires applaud !

“Since, I. have walked in the track of plague, leprosy,
cholera, and fever—but I have never seen any thing so
humiliating to personal dignity—so oppressive to individual
health—so brutal in regard to the ordinary sympathies as the
whole system of these mills. The poor children of strength
and poverty die off, as regularly as the moths of the silk-
worm, in three or four years at the most—or else they con-
geal into a sort of old-maid-withered state, which, in its
wrinkled and horrid distortions, is more monstrous than any
thing this side the English colliers!—according to Parlia
mentary Reports !

“T could not be a slave! Iwould not be a minion. I left
the mills—I left my family with the determination to work
somehow—to redeem the earth from this great evil.

“This was a vast undertaking for a poor forlorn female.
But, nevertheless, I had strong feelings that something could
be done, even by one so humble as myself. But first I had
to earn my own bread, and as my education had been good,
and I had read eagerly since my early childhood, I thought
myself qualified to act as governess, and advertised. I soon
found a place. It happened to be in a rich and visionary
family, every member of which nad mounted some particular
hobby of its own. I thought myself in heaven for awhile,
but soon began to perceive that hobbies are hobbies.

“T found this family of world-saviours—for no one of them
was any thing short!—the most intense se/f-ists I had ever
met. The only merit they possessed was obstinacy. Each
one held to his or her opinion with a ludicrous pertinacity,
and the house was one continuous Babel of controversy. All
the refgrm topics of the day were thus continually dinned

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS, 8389

into my ears, and the running commentary upon this anxious
care for humanity was furnished in the dissolute habits of the
family. A more vicious, mean, and cowardly set of knaves
and beasts I never saw congregated in one household. It
was a, perfect epitome of the vices of civilization. With an
immense inherited fortune and entire leisure, they united
untameable passions and great intellectual activity—without
one particle of faith or of honor. Each mounted a hobby
because it was the fashion, and rode it until ‘the galled jade
winced!’ The passion for notoriety, which predominated
among them, was inexorable. All the lustful vices a corrupt
humanity ever dreamed of, were practised among them. These
were absolutely carried to hideous excesses, and I became a
victim. ;

“The family were very handsome, and the oldest son was
magnificently so. He early cast his eyes upon me. His
advances were very subtle. He discovered my tendency
towards what are called liberal views, and upon that key-note
his skill was Satanic as his will was invincible. He imbued
me fully with the knowledge of all modern ¢sms—libertinism
among the rest—in the end! Nothing that clairvoyance has
guessed, Swedenborg dreamed, or Fourier idealised, but that
[heard it all in his soft musical tones, breathed insidiously
against my cheek. I believed it all, and believed him. My
ruin was the consequence, as I have hinted. I bore him a
child! The wretch had removed me from my place, and
deserted me before the child was born! Why should I de-
scribe the sufferings of a strong nature under such a wrong?
Like natures understand them better without description! A
friend who knew and loved me, a just and righteous man,
adopted the child of shame, and has done well by him.

One dark night, beneath a murky lamp, I met and stabbed
the villain, in the place where I had awaited nim for hours.
He knew me as he fell, and I laughed in his dying ear. I
fled the country, of course, and came to Texas. In Galveston

840 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

I met this man—my husband. I had lived there for several
years, teaching the only regular school they had in the
country. I had, after a fearful struggle, gained a sort of
resignation. ,

“But once I heard some ribald fellows of that rude society
ridiculing a “crazy old cove,” as they called him. They said
he did nothing but ‘work! work! work! all day; and that -
nobody could understand what the poor old fool was doing
with his wheels and his stupid machines.’

“T at once determined to know this man! To be abused
by such fellows was enough to persuade me in his favor. I
went to see him. I found him as you have seen him—a
mighty intellect with a feeble physique! We became friends
at once. My enthusiasm had only been ‘driven in’—so to
say, and now came rushing back to the surface of expression.
I found him alone, and almost helpless. He had no one to
care for him, and could not care for himself—for, although
he possessed some means, he was too much abstracted to
notice minor details of comfort—so he lived in the most pain-
fully squallid manner. He did his own cooking, and made
his bed once a week—for he would not have a servant about
him, because he feared he might disturb his work—the
apparent chaos of which was his order!

“JT talked with this man,—for he talked then! long and
eagerly. He told me much that satisfied me. He showed
me that the reform, for which so many true and devoted
spirits were really laboring, was a different thing from the
cant of the professional reformers. They prayed in public
places to be “seen of men;” they, who are in earnest, pray
in deeds, and not in words; and neither do they let the right
hand know what the left hand doeth!

“‘He showed me that the popular schemes of reform were
all purely theoretical. That they could, and would accom-
plish nothing direct! That all true reforms must begin in the
physical! That men were moved only througk material means,

THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 841

and that it was through such means that the material was to
be reached and elevated. That the laws of Mechanics were
the laws of the universe in dimuendo! and that the hatreds,
the oppressions, the crimes, the monstrosities of our social
system, were only to be reached through Mechanics! The
law of order was supreme, and this law required a material
medium. Mankind was only to be emancipated into leisure to
cultivate the spiritual by the aid of machinery !—of rail-roads,
canals, &.! Then the working classes would have leisure,
leisure to think and feel; leisure to cultivate the arts; to
make the flowers grow !

“But, yet, as he taught, they need a higher Mechanics!
They have steam, and air and electricity,—they have appro-
priated the water and the gasses,—brutes, minerals, vegeta-
tion,—all !—but one Power / superior to them all!

“ The law of gravitation is the law of labor, of life, and of
progress! This great law remains to be conquered! We have
conquered the elements and made them our slaves !—how
slow they carry us! We want to rein the law that governs
spheres !

“He was making the audacious attempt! He overwhelmed
me with the calm profundity of his knowledge—he dazzled me
in a very different sense from that first dazzle, which was
delirious, and simply, simple!”

She placed her hands upon her eyes, and they looked very
thin and feeble! A shudder passed through her frame. She
muttered :—

“He dared attempt the ‘perpetual motion,’ and I dedicated
my life to him—but more to the great thought! We came
apart from civilization, and made us a home here by the
unaided labor of our own hands. Here he has worked and
I have slaved, to the mighty thought that God may reveal
himself in Mechanics! as well as by other revelations,—and
the children of Eve be thus released from all slavery !”

342 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

She fell back upon her pillow, and, as I started to my feet,
a strange, dull cry came from the husband!

She was dead! I turned my head in horror from the
realization of the scene, and there was Tom, crouching close
beside me, with his eyes rolled up in such an expression of
horror and sympathy, that I was even more profoundly moved.
He had evidently crept in, and been listening to everything
she said !

Poor Tom! He buried this strange woman with many
tears, and then we took the old man back to the Planter’s
house, with all his wheels and models; but he soon fell into
idiocy, and died not long after, leaving his life’s labor in the
hands of strangers, to come to nothing /—as all attempts must
do at asserting the prerogative of Divinity Himself—whose
life is the only perpetual motion that can exist in the Universe!
Here was a sad and stern first lesson of the presumption
which goeth aside in the confidence of its own strength to
search after the “strange gods,”—yet, alas, it was in vain
for me, as I only came forth from this experience a more
cold and impious doubter.

CHAPTER XII.

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR-HUNTING.

THERE are those who can learn nothing through the ex-
,@Tiences of others, however impressively presented; who
itust hear, see, taste, smell and feel for themselves, before
“Ley can understand the most self-evident truths. The knock-
Jown argument is the only one that has availed with me for
evil or for good; and that, it seems, I was to huve the full
benefit of, before the frantic scepticism, which had fustened
upon this period of my life, could be reached. The passion
of the hunter-naturalist for solitary communion with the soul
of nature, which had strengthened the life of my childhood

843

344 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

and youth into the holier calms of full contentment, had now
become so morbidly distorted that this solitude was terrible,
unless filled with the action and excitement of danger. My
late adventure, from the still farther confusion in which it
involved my spiritual and mental sense, proved only the
incentive to yet more blind and headlong plunges, into—l
knew and cared not what—desperate extremes of adventure.
I hurriedly parted with my friend © , determined to
push on to the uttermost verge of settlement, or even beyond
if might be! .

Now, by way of parenthesis, as to this novel metaphysics,
upon an exposition of which I am about to enter, I would say,
if there be sermons in stones, and the minnow-rippled, silvery-
gabbling brooks be all oracular, and the mute trees yet panto-
mime of homilies,—not to speak of the obstreperous tongue,
nimble-stroked, of “cross, quick lightning,’’ which, “in the
dead vast, and middle of the night” doth fright us with its
ethics,—if, I say, these have, every one, high teachings of
their own, why may there not be more in the metaphysics
of bear-hunting than has been dreamed of in any fire-side
philosophy ?

I am human enough to love this linking of the invisible
with forms; this association with the material gives it to the
palpable. Every thought of mirth, or vision of. delight, is
ours forever, when, clothed in fit habiliments, we have given
it “a local habitation and a name.”

«These are the adept’s doctrines; every element
Is peopled with its separate race of spirits;
The airy sylph on the blue ether floats,

Deep in the earthy caverns skulks the gnome,
The sea-green Naiad skims the ocean billow,
And the fierce fire is yet a friendly home

To its peculiar sprite, the Salamander !”

Now, though I have no special dealing at present with the
Sylpb, Naiad, Gnome, or Salamander, I would submit whether

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 845

the century-lived glory of that antique Faith be not referable
to this ‘“‘bodying forth”’ of rare ideals, with all the circumstance
of an “earthly house,” a name—of the chisel and the pencil!
So in these latter times, when a truth comes to us out from
the Infinite, that is to abide with us, it is sent, not with the
destroying splendors of its source, but through the gross types
of sense, wearing the shapes of most familiar creatures, or
acting through the common elements of things.

Miracles
Are so impounded now by the stern laws
Of sentient things, that poor short-sighted reason,
Yielding the divination up to Faith,
Submits these revelations under rule,
As only given to her far ken!

Miracles are above us, around us, and beneath us; it is
only when the higher sense bends its inner vision upon them,
that we recognize them so. The very triteness of the incidents
and imagery through which they appeal to our eyes, “ever
staring, wide-propped, at marvels, or lazily glouting on the
moon,” prevents the recognition of their import. But are
they the less miraculous, that our own stultification will not
permit us to see them thus?

There are times, though, when they come to us right solemnly,
in sternness, in strangeness, through chastenings,—when the
veil is torn aside, and we are made to look in awe on holy,
hidden things, to tremble and believe. In such times our
stolidity is no refuge; ‘we know that we do see !”,—and when
that time has passed, what are the symbols and the images
through which that truth dwells forever after with the soul?
The incidents through which the Godhead came, the material
forms through which He was made visible! be they pigmy or
huge in man’s esteem, they ever, henceforth, in one certain
collocation, must stand linked, the eternal, movelesy, silent
witnessess of that Revelation, and of God, against the soul.

346 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Wher we would reproduce for other wayfarers the lessons
vouchsafed to us, how, in what better way can it be done, than
by dragging from under the broken seals of the past, that
deep-lined imagery, in the array God stamped it on our life,
that brother souls may regard it.

Perhaps they, too, may see the miracle, and be moved by
it as we have been. Though a thousand eyes might look on the
same facts, and sneer that you talk of God! yet there are
those with the “ gift and faculty divine” who know when to
sneer wisely, if they sneer at all! Such will understand us,
when we aver that faith can find “the evidence of things
unseen”’ only as it is mated with the actual. How can it be
thought or expressed otherwise? This necessity for the actual,
is the true old Pantheistic element, though modern ethics
will be gravely horrified by the profane juxtaposition! The
elder Penates were things, ours are words; but not the less
things for all that, if they be sacred.

But though this be a “bear story,” why may it not convey
a lesson of higher import and severer teaching than the name
would promise? Why may it not be made to trace and
arrange the progress of incidents which led to a new birth of
the spiritual life within me ? Which taught me, raving doubter
that I was, through the simplest and most natural means—
curiously enough presented, indeed—that first and most sublime
of truths—Gop 1s! Which has linked the “ pathless desola-
tion” and “the lowly instrument” forever with my memories
of adoring gratitude, of love and awe, and left them to me,
the sentient demonstrations, strong as proof of Holy Writ, of a
benevolent and active Providence—wielding appreciable laws
inscrutably on my behalf! But to return to my narrative.

A solitary and perilous journey brought me to San Antonio
de Bexar, then the extreme frontier post of Texas. On my
arrival, I found the company of reckless scamps who called
themselves Rangers, and made this old town their head-

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 347

quarters, in a very bad humor—what would you conjecture
was the cause? Simply that there had been no fighting to
do for a whole month!

I had never heard a spoiled belle complain half so patheti-
cally of a decaying season, and the scarcity of victims, as did
these petulant amateurs, of the late difficulties, in the way of
raising a fight! They seemed to imagine the whole world
was conspiring against them—that a coalition, including not
Mexicans and Indians only, but even “ His celestial highness,
the brother of the sun,” had been formed for the express pur-
pose of killing them off, through a stagnation of blood, super-
vening upon the horrible monotony of an endless peace!
Rather than die so base a death, they were just vowing to
rush into any alternative extreme—sack some village or
Catholic Mission on the other side of the Rio Grande—or go
up into the mountains and burn an Indian town, and see if
that would not stir the hornets and give them something to do.

After the deliberation due in so dire a strait, Hays, their
good-natured little captain, too much moved, perhaps, by the
tenderness of his sympathy, and a desire to give them full
amends for all they had endured, decided upon the latter of
these alternatives.

Lither of them was promising enough; but he, as in duty
bound, of course selected that around which clustered the
fullest fruition in perspective! To form some idea of his

. accommodating temper and their insatiable gourmandie,
imagine a party of eight white men and two Mexicans,
traversing an almost desert prairie, three hundred miles in
width, with the purpose to reach the mountainous region near
the sources of the San Saba river, in which lay the fastnesses
of those formidable tribes that scour the plains of Mexico
and Texas—intending, when gained, to penetrate them, and
destroy some one of the towns hid away in their gorges—
with, furthermore, the pleasant prospect of having thousands
cf infuriated warriors howling on their trail back to the very

B48 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

square from which they started—that is, if, contrary to all
probabilities, they ever should reach it again. If possessed
of a vivid imagination, after grasping all that this view pre-
sents, you may form some faint conception of what these
remarkably moderate young gentlemen were contented to
consider sport !”

For myself, being, as has been perceived by this time, just in
the mood for so reasonable and matter-of-fact an undertaking,
I was delighted at having arrived in time to join the party,
and nothing the less delighted at the extravagant gusto with
which the fellows seemed to relish the idea of this highly
seasoned joke.

Captain Hays had thrown out a hint, as the climactric
attraction to any one who might need further incentive or
dream of hesitating, that if we had not seen too many
Indians by the time we reached the foot of the San Saba
ridge, we would recreate there a day or so in killing bears,
which animals were reported to be wonderfully abundant,
and collecting wild honey, to be drunk with the oil!

This last mellifluous argument proved too much for a rotund
and doughty little Doctor—like myself, lately from the States
-—-who had been slightly affected by some natural qualms
of prudence; but now, “in fine phrensie rolling,” his inner
visuals were all preoccupied and inspired by the scenes round
the camp-fire—himself, with sleeves rolled up—the sharp knife
in his dumpy red hand—the fat streaks falling off beneath
his strokes upon the napkin of leaves—the steam, “like rich
distilled perfumes,” that rose as they hissed upon the spit
before the cheery fire. Then the brown honey in stately
‘iquid flow from the tin cups, strewed over the tenderly crisped
flesh! Oh! it was too delicious! What cared he for Coman-
ches after that rapt vision! Yes, go he would, though they
swarmed by thousands to turn him from his bliss!

The best of the joke, though, was, that after this we could
not get the Doctor anyhow to realize that there would be

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 849

{Indians to fight. He would not and could not conceive the
possibility of the tawny rascals interposing “betwixt the
wind” and that odorous revelation. © “Faugh! give me an
ounce of civet!’ good apothecary, he would ejaculate, with
the parenthetic addition, “or bear-steak and honey would do
as well,” whenever the thing was mentioned by us. Remon-
strate as we might, he would see and know of nothing else
ahead but these rare delicacies; nor could he be induced to
make provision in his equipments for any thing other than
securing them. He had gotten hold of something he called
a bear spear, which a wag had quizzed him into believing
to be an infallible weapon in hunting that animal; then, in
addition, slinging a small axe to his saddle-bow, to be used
in cutting out the honey, along with a huge pair of holster-
pistols, he declared himself, with great vivacity, ‘Ready,
boys !”

We tried to induce him to throw away his spear and take
a gun. “Never! What, would you have me unsteady my
nerves by lugging a great gun? How shall I then be able
to dissect with that nicety of skill so indispensable to attain-
ing the true flavor of a bear-steak ? You are surely demented
gentlemen!’ and spurring his bob-tailed and vicious-looking
pony into a canter, he led the way out of the square. We
were all soon clattering after him.

It requires precious little time, after an expedition has been
determined upon, for a troop like this to get ready for it; with
his rifle, his pistols, his bowie knife, his tin cup, “ water
gourd,” buffalo robe, lariat, Mexican bridle, saddle and spurs,
the jolly Ranger feels himself prepared to go wherever his
horse can carry him, and to meet “all imminence the gods
address their dangers in!’ He never troubles himself to-day
about what he shall eat or what he shall wear to-morrow;
for, so long as his eye is true, and his aim steady, his good
rifle will supply him with meat for food, and skins for clothes:
and what more could any reasonable mortal ask ?

350 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

In truth, we were an odd-looking set—each one dressed in
buckskin, fashioned and trimmed very much to suit individual
taste, with no sort of respect to uniformity—our whole equip-
ment making up a singular amalgamation of Mexican, Indian
and American costumes, while our arms were of almost every
conceivable stamp. The most experienced hunters carried
the old-fashioned long-harreled rifle, single-barreled pistols,
and a heavy knife; while those of us just from the States,
were loaded down with the newest inventions—six-shooting
revolvers, double-barrels, and all sorts of new-fangled notions,
which we supposed were to make us, individually, a host—for
which unwarranted supposition we got ourselves laughed at
most heartily, and were afterwards glad to have time for
repentance.

Our horses, some of them mustangs, others American, had
been carefully selected with reference to their speed and
endurance; and all, with the exception of the Doctor’s
nondescript pony, were fine looking animals.

After clearing the narrow streets of the dilapidated town,
and gaining the open prairie, which lay stretched like an
ocean before us, with its long waves stilled upon the leap—it
was a glorious intoxication to feel the noble brutes exulting
in their strength beneath us, as they bounded over the undu-
lations; and, in one full ringing shout, our pent-up spirits
greeted the mountain winds,that came dashing their cool wel-
come against our faces!

Ho! for the mountains! ho! away!
For merry men are we!

A short but rapid ride through a lovely region—whose
diversified features shifted in panoramic changes every moment
as we dashed by—brought us to a small stream, which was
to be our camping place for the night; and here, we must
confess, that as is invariably the case on the first night out,
there was a sort of intoxication rife round our camp-fires very

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 851

different from that healthy exhilaration we have spoken of.
Our “water-gourds” we had discovered would hold “nouya”
and “‘absynthe” just as well, and the time was decidedly at
a discount for the evening, which was spent in as gay and
reckless a carouse as ever chased the “lagging night-shades,”
with songs and laughter through the “‘sma’ hours.”

Of course, in such a state of things, there was no watch
set—and we all felt very foolish, on waking the next morning,
to find some of our best horses gone—among them my own
gallant American. Some of the thieving Mexicans of Bexar,
having in view the well-known custom of the Rangers, to com-
mence all long and perilous expeditions with a spree, had
slunk and crawled upon our trail, since we left town, and
having ascertained our camping ground, kept themselves
invisible until we were far gone in the profound sleep which
followed our excesses; then cre t near the camp, and cutting
the lariats of those horses on the outside, rode them off!

Great as our vexation was, a general burst of laughter runs
out on all sides when it was discovered that an attempt had
been made to carry off the Doctor’s pony, too; but from the
indications, it was plain that the vicious little rascal had been
too much for the thief—for it had compelled that luckless
personage to leave his ‘“‘sombrero” under its heels, and the
print of his prostrate form was plain enough on the damp
grass.

Pony'rose a hundred per cent. in the estimation of all
parties, forthwith, and his quaint owner with him. There
was nothing for it but to wait patiently until those who had
horses should return, and replace the stolen ones by pur-
chases from the nearest ‘“Cavayard.” As they had nearly
a thousand to select from, we were consoled by the hope
that we should get at least passable horses.

The return of our messengers late in the evening was
awaited by myself, as well as the other unfortunates, with
great anxiety, for all that could be hoped of either pleasure

852 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

or security, on an expedition such as this, depended very
much upon the character and mettle of our horses. It was
in vain to regret the noble fellow I had lost, for he would be
across the Rio Grande in the shortest possible time. I could
only mutter vengeance against Mexican horse thieves in
general, and hope he might be at least tolerably replaced.
It will be seen in the event, that we did not attach too much
importance to this circumstance.

When the detachment arrived, I was agreeably surprised
to find a powerful, wild-eyed, fine-looking animal assigned to
me; but my pleasure was not a little dashed at discover'ng, as
soon as I undertook to handle him, that he had never had a
saddle on his back! Here was a poser with a vengeance!
What was I to do with an untamed Mustang, as strong as a
buffalo, and vicious as a wild cat? After enjoying a laugh
at my chap-fallen, chagrined look, on realizing this astounding
fact, my tormentors suggested to me the only alleviation,
which was to pay one of our Mexican guides a dollar, mount
his horse, and let him take mine in hand for a day or two, in
which time he would make him “cadello de buena rienda”
for me.

In a little while the copper-skinned knave was careering
like the wind over the plains on my frantic steed, while the
mischievous Rangers comforted me with the assurance, that
we would probably catch up with him “in a day or two!”
However, he came into camp late at night, with the horse
sweltering in foam, and nearly exhausted by a run of some
ten miles and back, and assured me that he was “muey buena”
—very good !—that is, he had been able to stand this tremen-
' dous race, without falling dead in his tracks, which constituted
the Mexican standard of excellence in these cases. I was
eager to mount him myself next morning, for I did not fancy
the idea of having his wind broken, by this Mexican and
summary process of taming.

I was approaching him incautiously, without paying any

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 853

attention to the guide’s reiterated “No! no! por Dios!”
when he suddenly threw out his heels in such devilish earnest
that they clattered together just above my forehead, and
reminded me that “prudence was the better part,” &c., so
far as he was concerned, yet awhile. I turned off with a
feeling of high indignation at this ungrateful reception of
my kindly intentions, and consigned him over to the tender
mercies of the Mexican, with the petulant and unnecessary
injunction, to “kill him, or ride that devil out of him!” I
have some times since thought that the horse must have
understood this cruel speech, and to have bided his time to
avenge himself right royally—and he did it, too, as you will
presently see !

Our westward march was now resumed. We soon recovered
that careless buoyancy which had somewhat been checked by
the unpromising “first night.” The scenery was glorious,
the air deliciously fresh and bracing, the Doctor and his
pony irresistibly comic; and the grouse was soon startled,
whirring up from its grassy couch by the joyous bursts of
tameless merriment. That same Doctor, and his better part,
on four legs, were enough to have kept an army in a roar. I
say better part, for the pony was as self-opinionated as he
was cross-grained, and scarcely an hour passed that he and
his rider had not some misunderstanding to settle, in the
final adjustment of which “bobtail” generally managed to
get the best of it. On the slightest matter of offence being
given, the irrascible little wretch would stop and bite at the
Doctor’s short legs; when he, of course, jerking them back.
suddenly to avoid snaps, his armed heels would prick the
pony’s flank, who would spring forward with several quick
successive leaps, which would sadly discommode his rider’s
equilibrium, and, not unfrequently, would keep them up with
such rapidity, that the tight, round personalities of the
Doctor, after a flying ascension over his head, would plump
into the grass; but as that happened to be very thick, and

23

354 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the ground very soft, nothing worse would come of it than
a smart jolt, which the Doctor would aver, with the most
indomitable good humor, “assisted his digestion.”

Pony never seemed to feel at liberty to desert his friend,
after he had demonstrated his affection in this curious fashion,
but would stand perfectly still, and with a very demure,
repentant look, take the kick which the Doctor always
favored him with before remounting.

I have laughed till my sides ached at this quaint couple.
The Doctor was the strangest compound of simplicity and
good humor that can be conceived.

The Rangers were most of them gentlemen, in breeding at
least, so that the days of our travel glided by delightfully,
enlivened with pleasantries and tales of curious adventure,
to which I was a most untiring listener. I had, in the mean-
time, received my horse at the hands of the Mexican, and
was very well pleased at his behavior. The character of the
scenery was now entirely changed. It had been agreeably
diversified before, but now we had stretched around us to the
horizon, the fatiguing monotony of a dead-level, sterile plain,
covered with coarse thin grass, with only once in fifteen or
twenty miles a clump of stunted bushes to relieve the eye.
This continued for several days.

At last, however, just as we were beginning to be exces-
sively bored by it, a dim broken line looked in the lilac
distance before us like a great bank of clouds. This, to our
great relief, was announced to be the San Saba Hills.

“Now,” said the little Doctor, who had been looking some-
what disconsolate, but brightened up when ,he heard this,
“Now for the bear-steaks ! And I warn you, gentlemen, that
I shall win the first that are eaten, with this same spear of
mine, which has been the subject of so much wit among you
all! You need not laugh, I shall confound you before to-
morrow night.”

And saying this, he plunged his spurs into the sides of

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 855

bobtail with such unwonted energy, that he, feeling himself
furiously insulted, commenced a series of caperings even
more vivacious and complicated than usual, and persevered
in them with such determination, that, after a hurd struggle,
the Doctor was fairly somerseted, bear-spear and all, amidst
a roar of merriment. He got nimbly to his legs again, dealt
two kicks this time, with a little more vigor than usual, ond
remounted.

By night, we could clearly distinguish the different knobs,
and the shaded valleys between them. We camped in high
spirits, for no traces had yet been discovered of Indians, and
we were near enough the hills to reach them in time for sport
in the morning.

Bright and early we were under way—our arms all over-
hauled and in fine order—with a keen relish for the rough
work before us. As we neared the hills, they presented
singular features. They rose directly and abruptly from the
level of the plain we had been traversing. It seemed to be
a succession of ridges, marched out like an army of Titans
upon the meadows—the lowest in front—rising higher and
higher as the eye traced each line back until it grew up into
the clouds; and, from the level, we could look into the deep,
cool, green valleys that went winding among their feet.

“Those in front were by no means precipitous, but rose
from the valleys with a gentle curve, clothed all the way to
the top with mighty live oaks, bearded like patriarchs, whose
trunks stood far apart to give room for their long knotty
arms, festooned with silvery moss, to spread, over the girth,
not unfrequently of half an acre. As these trees forked
very soon, and as there was no underbrush beneath, the
heavy drapery of the moss hung drooping as from a low-
‘roofed temple of the Druids; and the thick green sward
spread under it, mellowed the gray shades deliciously. The
trees became gradually smaller and more sparse, as the eye
descended to the valleys, and then in the centre of each was

356 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

a strip of prairie of the deepest verdure, open to the sun,
which produced the ilusion of a gold and emerald flood,
stilly creeping beneath the grim towering shadows. A few
small trees were scattered along the feet of the ridges a short
distance out into our prairie. We were all entranced into
gazing upon this marvelous scene, which opened in new traits
of surpassing loveliness and grandeur as we approached.

The awed silence which had fallen round the party was
broken by a quick, vehement exclamation of the Doctor,—
““Egad! there they are! I’m into ’em, boys!” and away he
dashed, with “bobtail” at his best speed, and flourishing the
spear above his head!

Looking around in astonishment for the cause of this
sudden outbreak, I saw the whole party bending forward in
the act of letting out their horses, while their eyes were
strained with a half eager, half comic look after the Doctor.
Following the same direction, I could distinguish, three or
four hundred yards ahead, several black, unwieldy-looking
objects, that seemed to be rooting in the long grass, just at
the foot of one of the low Knobs, and a little distance out in
the prairie. One of them raised its head at the moment, and
I saw that is was a bear! Hays exclaimed, as he spurred his
horse—“ Boys, we’re lucky! They come down to feed on the
snails!” at the same moment the company broke off like
madmen. I followed, but having been pre-occupied, and less
on the alert, was soon among the hindmost.

The valiant Doctor had between fifty and eighty rods the
start of us. His fiery little pony carried him straight up to
the nearest béar, which stood upon its hind feet stupidly
snuffing the air, evidently greatly puzzled what to make of
these new visitors! The gallant Alsculapian dashed up to it,
and was raising his spear to strike, before the astonished
animal had concluded to turn tail, which, when it did, it
waddled off with great speed. But, as the Doctor drove away
manfully at its shaggy back with his weapon, in his eagerness

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 3857

he had riddca so close that pony, too, entering into the spirit
of the affair, was biting with great vigor at its haunches.

Such a combination of assailants was too much for Bruin’s
patience, and it wheeled so suddenly, that, before pony could
dodge, it had given him a wipe with his tremendous paws
which brought him to his knees. , This unexpectod stoppage,
of course, sent the Doctor vaulting over the head of his beast.
His dumpy figure looked so natural, so much like the old
trick, as it went sprawling through the air, that one universal
yell of laughter broke impulsively from every throat in spite
of the imminent peril of his predicament!

Happily for the Doctor, the pony, as the largest object,
distracted the attention of the bear from him for an instant,.
and gave him time to regain his feet, and make for a low live
oak which stood near. Into this he mounted with inconceivable
nimbleness, but the bear was close at his heels. He ran out
upon a limb, but the inexorable monster still pur-ued. He
finally got out so far as the limb would sustain his weight,
and there he stood, swayed to and fro in the air, holding on
with one hand to the branches above him, while with the other-
he was pushing away most vehemently at the bear’s nose with
his spear, endeavoring to keep it at a respectful distance. This
arrangement Bruin did not seem to feel disposed to agree to,
but was cautiously and slowly pushing his way out on the
limb, for the purpose of making a closer acquaintance. To
complete the picture, pony was prancing, stamping his feet,
looking up into the tree and whining most furiously, ‘as if
he fully appreciated his master’s danger, and was eager to
get up to the rescue.

The whole scene occupied but a few seconds. The foremost
of the party seeing the Doctor mount the tree, had gallopped
on, laughing, in pursuit of the other bears; while we were
so much convulsed with merriment, that I verily believe the
creature might have eaten the poor fellow whole, before any
of us would have recovered sufficiently to shoot, but for the

358 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

interposition of Hays. He, by a great exertion of his
remarkable self-command, so far recovered as to be able to
send a ball through its head, which brought it to the ground.

There were now four bears in sight, who were making for
the Knobs, and seeing that the Doctor was safe, without.
pausing, we all swept by in headlong career, to arrest these
fellows before they left the plain. The last I saw of the
Doctor for many a day, he was dangling from the end of that
live oak limb, in the act of driving his spear into the body
of the wounded bear, while pony, with his ears laid back,
was kicking most vehemently at its writhing body!

The intensity of individual excitement was all now given
to the chase. Our party had broken up into four groups,
each of which had selected for pursuit one of the unwieldy
brutes, who were getting over the ground with astonishing
speed in a direct line for the Knobs. We pushed them se
hard, though, that instead of attempting to ascend the ridges,
they all diverged into some one of the narrow valleys I have
spoken of. It happened that a young Virginian and myself
had selected the same animal, and, before we entered the
gorge, up which he ran, all the others of the party had
disappeared into gorges of the same character, which led
them to the opposite sides of the ridges. I now began to
notice, for the first time, that there was trouble brewing with
my horse. He had caught scent of the bear, and seemed to
be terribly alarmed, snorting and bouncing up from the
ground with a short, stiff spring, that almost jerked me out of
my seat. Though his natural action was fully as great as
that of the Virginian’s horse, yet he, somehow or other,
contrived not to get over much ground, and would not keep
up. His manceuvres made me feel a little curious, though I
am, and was then, a practical horseman.

I saw my companion closing upon the bear, which suddenly
diverged from the valley, up the hill, and lost sight of both
bel:ind an immense live oak hung to the very ground with

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 859

moss. In another instant he had fired two shots in quick
succession. The idea of losing my shot entirely, made me
desperate, and reining'the horse’s head with all my strength,
T plunged the spurs furiously into his flanks.

Three or four frantic bounds, and he had brushed through
the dense moss curtain under the live oak, and came through
on the other side, within five paces of the object of his terror,
the bear, the loins of which had been broken by the two
shots, and it was swaying its huge carcass to and fro, and
gaping its great red mouth with roars.

Had my horse been suddenly turned to stone he would not
have been more rigid than he became the instant his feet
touched the earth. There was something positively awful
in the paralysis of fright which seized him. His skin had
been perfectly dry, and in a second, big drops had started,
running off to the ground. His legs were set and stiff; his
nostrils prodigiously distended, but motionless; his eyes shot
out, and fixed, in the fascination of terror, upon the hideous
object. I was shocked. I drove my spurs into him with
redoubled strength, wrenching at the bit at the same time.
His head felt like a rock, and only a slight quiver of the
muscles answered the spur. I fairly yelled with rage as I
struck him over the head with my gun barrel. The blow
sounded dull and heavy, but there was no motion, not even of
anear. I never felt so strangely in my life. I was frightened
myself,

At this instant, for all had passed in an instant, just aa
the Virginian was leveling his pistol for a third shot, our
attention was arrested by the quick succession of firing, like
a platoon, from the other side of the ridge, followed up by
the stunning clamor, which has only to be heard once to be
remembered forever, of the Comanche war-whoop! and then,
above us, the heavy tramp and rush of a troop descending the
hill directly towards us! There was no time for deliberation !

“The Indians! take care of yourself, Kentuck!” hastily

360 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

exclaimed my companion, as he wheeled his horse and dashed
down the hill for the valley. Cold comfort that—“take
care of yourself,” indeed!

I made one more desperate and unavailing effort to break
the trance of the vile brute I strode, then sprang from his
back, ran under the drooping moss, stepped up into the live
oak, the forks of which were not over three feet from the
ground, ran along up one of its massive limbs, and had
barely time to conceal myself behind a dense cluster of the
moss, when, with deafening whooping, a bronzed and feather-
bedizened crew of some twenty Comanches swept into the
valley just beneath me. They paused for an instant on
seeing my horse, who was standing as I left him, and one
of them took the lariat from the saddle-bow, but just then
they caught sight of the flying Virginian, and, with a yell
that made the very leaves shiver, dashed on in pursuit of
him.

This broke the spell upon my Mustang, and, with a sudden
start and shrill neigh, he plunged wildly through the crowd,
dragging the warrior who held the lariat from his seat, and
nearly unhorsing two or three others; then, as if the very
fiends were lashing him with red hot steel, he flew, rather
than ran, out of the valley into the plains, neighing louder
than the savages howled, till he was out of sight! In a little
while they, too, had disappeared; a gun or two followed at
momentary intervals, and then the echoes faded into pulseless
and oppressive silence, broken only by the sobbing moans
of the wounded bear beneath me. ;

I was stupefied. These events were so strange, and had
followed each other so rapidly, that I was dizzy and utterly
confounded. Was it enchanted land? Here was I, three
hundred miles beyond the remotest outskirts of civilization,
perched in a tree; my horse gone; friends scattered or
scalped; this infernal silence weighing upon my lungs, No!
There is the dismal moan again! I must go down and stop

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 861

that, or it'll run me crazy, sure enough! Ha! ha! thig is
a funny joke! what a laugh I'll have with the fellows when
we all get together again! Oh! they have all hid as I have
done, and we will all meet out there at the mouth of the
gorge after awhile !

Pooh! the Fates merely mean to try my nerves! Curse
that moaning! I must go down and kill that bear. Pity to
kill him, too; it’s a sort of companionship! Doleful friends
we'll be! Confound it, if it wouldn’t whine so piteously I
could stand it! Pshaw! the fellows will be here directly, and
what will they say to find I have been so unmanned by a
little silence, that I could not finish a wounded bear, when I
came all this way to hunt it? So down I went! The great
monster, I found, was too far gone to be savage. He merely
stared at me through half-closed eyes, then tossed his head
about, gaped his jaws, and moaned. I went close up to him.
I wanted him to show fight and excite me. It looked like
cold-blooded murder to kill him so, and we the only live
things near: but he wouldn’t notice me.

His back was broken, and he had enough to occupy him.
Wouldn’t it be merciful to put him out of pain? Yes! but
who’s going to be merciful to me when I’m starving, after
my ammunition gives out! I felt jealous of the bear’s good
luck, in having me there with a large knife to kill him at
once !

All my logic wouldn’t do. Sophise as I might, the awful
conviction was settling about my brain that the party had
been hopelessly scattered, and that I was left alone, with
no experience to guide me back, and no hope of getting
back on foot if I had possessed experience. But it wouldn’t
do to let this feeling gain the ascendant. I must have
something to employ me. They might come yet.

So, I deliberately split the bear’s skull open with my
bowie-knife, and went to work very formally to dissect him.
I managed to protract this operation to such a length, that,

362 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

when I looked up, I was surprised to find that the sun was
setting. But I had no longer to complain of the stillness.
This was the signal for the voices of the wilderness to break
forth.

A long, screeching cry, that seemed right at my ear, made

my blood curdle. I looked around. The limbs of a live oak,
near, were rustling and swaying, as under some great weight.
The head of a panther peered out from between two bunches
of moss. We looked at each other very coolly. He stretched
his white throat from the covert, turned up his nose and
snuffed towards me. He smelt the blood. His eyes were
very large and gleaming, but he looked innocent enough;
his face seemed so good-natured and familiar, that I felt for
the moment we must be old acquaintances, that I ought to
offer to take his paw. There’s no harm in him!
He stretched his jaws to scream again, and I saw his
long, white fangs: the cat tribe are well furnished about the
jaws. But, horror! his cry has a dozen echoes all around,
far away and near. What a caterwauling! God of heaven!
it is said they like man’s meat the best! Oh! but these are
simple boors, uncontaminated by luxurious tastes. They
won't know any better, unless they have heard the tradition.
But, then, it is something of a risk if they haven’t. What
shall I do? Shoot that meek-looking panther in the eyes?
Dead panthers tell no tales!

No, the Indians will hear the gun, and I shall have them
awarming through the ridges, to-morrow, sky-larking. That
won’t do. What then? Why, I'll climb to the top of this
live oak, so that these nimble gentry can’t get above me,
unless they jump out of the moon; and I'll tie myself up
there, and swing about ’till morning. So long as I’m above
"em, I’m safe, for I can see their eyes as they come up, and
rake down the limb.

This conclusion was forthwith acted upon. I didn’t like
that panther to stand there watching me, though, for he

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 363

would be sure to tell, and I should be besieged all night;
so I picked up some round pebbles that were strewed along
the hill side, and took deliberate aim at his broad, innocent
face. The first one cut the moss, just above his head.
He looked up, with a quick movement, and low growl,
evidently wondering prodigiously where it came from. He
had no suspicion of me at all, and looked down again very
friendly, and very inquisitive.

I tried it again. This time I struck the limb near him,
and the stroke rang sharply. He clapped his paw over the
-place, clawed it and smelt. The simple fellow didn’t look
at me, at all. I felt almost ashamed to be imposing upon
him so. But while he was thus engaged, I sert another,
this whistled past him on the other side. He wheeled and
clawed at the sound. At last I struck him, plmmb! He
saw the pebble fall, and go rolling down the hill, and with
a savage growl leaped out of the tree after it, and went
chasing it down into the valley. It was clear he thought
the place bewitched; for he didn’t come back again until
it had grown quite dark, if he came even them!

I took some of the choicer pieces of the bear and hung
them to a swinging limb, where they would be out of reach,
and then ascended the live oak. I climbed and climbed
until I got so high, that, by standing straight, I could look
out above, the top, and see the stars twinkling in a very
sleery sort of fashion, as if they had been called up too
early, and had not decided whether they should wake at all,
yet a while.

- The moon was just wheeling up her chaste disc from
behind the mountains. They all looked too much like old
times to be pleasant just then; so I dodged my head beneath
the shade of the moss again, and made my arrangements
with the most accommodating forks for the night. That
settled, I went to sleep counting the answers to the nearest
panther’s cry, guessing how many there were to the acre,

364 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

or conjecturing whether wolves learned to howl by gamut,
and how many quavers made their endless bars, or wondering
wi.cther “rattle! rattle! snap! snap!” was considered a
| citimate chorus to “tu whit! tu whoo!” by the San Saba
owls. °

I got tired conjecturing about the owls, for they seemed
to have taken that matter in hand with regard to me, and
came flapping and hooting about the tree tops, and shining
their great eyes curiously at me, as they went by, till I
almost foamed with spite, because I couldn’t punch them
out. The moon got up over head at last, and that narrow
little valley, which looked so pretty in the morning sunshine,
now lay along the deep bosom of the shadow, in the light,
braiding them like a silver ribbon. Those graceful little
creatures stepping across it, one, two, three, they are ocelots,
spotted like a pard. What a carouse is going on down there
over that bear’s carcass. The brutes are about to hold a
carnival here to-night, in celebration of my release from the
thraldom and restraints of civilization. Confound ’em, if
they hadn’t such rakish ways about them, I would come
down and do the “honors” for them genteelly, as a civil
host should! Can’t trust ‘em, though! How their eyes do
sparkle and flash green flames, as they spit and claw at each
other over the bones. The panther rules the roost down
there. I wonder if the puma is going to come.

I wish he would. There’llbe rare scintillating fire-works
from their eyes should they get to battling. I suppose I
should see all the cat family by the light, sitting on their
haunches around, connoisseuring. That would be funny, for
they are a sober, demure-looking generation. Look at that
pack of wolves sitting off there in the moonlight. How they
fidget, and whine, and lick their chops. They dare not come
nearer! Good for them, the sneaking grave-robbers! Those
panthers are gleaming their eyes up this way. Have they
scented? Can it be they suspect? There go the gleams

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 865

‘shooting up. What can it mean? Ha! the greedy rogue!
He is jumping up at the tit-bits, that I hung on a limb.
He’s welcome to them if he can get them—if that'll satisfy
him so far that he wont attempt to make tit-bits out of me.

Ha! ha! strange that that quaint song about the fairies
should be buzzing through my brain now:—

‘From the silver tops of the moon-touched trees,
Where they swing in their cobweb hammocks high,
And rocked about in the evening breeze ——”

I'd make a good-sized courtier for Queen Mab’s

‘« Hall of state in the lilly’s cup.”

I wonder how the “wee people” would fancy buckskins.
’m “rocked about in the evening breeze’ with a vengeance.
wish I had “ cobwebs,” or something stouter in proportion,

to lash my “‘ hammock’ a little more securely—

“Ye Gods !—
From fairies and tempters of the night
Guard me!”

Rather heathenish rendering that of—
‘¢ And now I lay me down to sleep,” &c.

I fear I am no better than a heathen, anyhow! But bless
us, they say a fairy is
‘Something betwixt heaven and hell,
Something that neither stood nor fell—

Something that through thy wit or will,
May work thee good, may work thee ill.”

t. e. it is a “betweenity!’ But hush! they are “pesky
folk,” and won’t stand being spoken of disrespectfully. They
“may work thee ill,” I am ill enough off already !

Curious notions to get into a body’s head! I wouder if

366 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

there should be any angels, whether my predicament does
not remind them something of the young Hebrew they saw
in the lion’s den, three thousand cycles ago—except that I
am a trifle higher up than he was. But lions didn’t climb
then. I believe they haven’t learned yet so well as panthers
—cases mightily alike, anyhow! The angels pitied him, for
they are said to be very compassionate; and maybe they’d
pity me, too, if I were not such an unmitigated sinner, and
didn’t feel ashamed to ask their pity. I have no hope in
that direction, for I never believed in them; though it would
be a comfort now. I have sneered like a devil about their
“harping on their harps,” when they had never done me any
harm—and I didn’t want their help—even if I was to be
overtaken with a belief in them now—I don’t fancy such
times as this for repentance and begging—don’t think ey
would either.

Roar away down there—that’s right! Saturnalia of the
grizzly fiends! That’s the music for the brave Sceptic! His
religion is to hate and to defy! Pooh! I’m getting a little
cracked, I believe, and sleepy, too. ‘Ticklish place this, to
dream, unless it is of hugging! Wonder what effect Mrs.
Mab’s chariot wheels, driven athwart one’s nose, would have
upon dreams up here? Warrant her “time out of mind coach
makers,”’ “ joiner squirrel and old grub,” are plenty enough
out this way. Ha! ha! to think of her “team of atomies”
galloping across the panther’s snout.

Plague this unruly member! I can’t keep it from prating
about God! I'd like to know how high the Doctor roosts
to-night? I’m afraid that it is in Abraham’s bosom! I
wonder if he has pony with him? Pity he couldn’t have
had a bear-steak, with honey, before he went; I think he’d
have gone without a murmur then. But they say ‘hat
milk and honey flow through the streets up there—no
xccount of bears though. Sleep! “balmy sleep! tired

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 367

nature’s sweet—’” Sleep, indeed! I fear I shall never go
to sleep again. I find I shall have to take care of myself,
and see fair play. Things are almost getting serious.

Just to think how long that panther’s teeth were! He
keeps them very white, considering !

I wonder if its daylight up in old Kentuck now, and what
they are all doing. That good old man is trimming grape
vines. He has prayed for me this morning. He can pray!
And the girls,—weeding flowers, I warrant. And Willie,
that glorious boy, with the seraph struggling through his
great eyes,—pranking! pranking! like an elf. That's a
catamount mewing ; how soft his voice is—butter wouldn’t
melt in his mouth. Confound this drowsy fit—I had like to
have fallen. This nodding “’twixt earth and sky” is rather
more serious than, in my college days, I considered Homeric
nods to be. ‘

At it again down there! ‘Celestial Syren’s harmonies !”
you are discord to it! Howling, growling, snarling, yelling,
spitting, snapping—whew! how the bones crack—sweet-
tempered family these Felines! They are giving each other
farewell salutes and embraces—affectionate creatures !

But, thank Fate! it is the order of nature that day must
come, though it does seem to be a hundred years. And it
has come at last. The wassailers of the night, striped,
dotted, frecked, spotted, one and all, shrink away with
mean, guilty looks, while

a
“The morn, in russet mantle clad,

Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastern hill.”

Those surly panthers, though, unwilling to go, stop in full
view under an oak, to lick their paws, and are looking back
wistfully as if they would have thanked daylight to tarry yet
awhile. But it will not do, you are not Joshuas, and the sun
can’t stand still for your convenience. Good-by! When you

368 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

revisit the glimpses of the moon, “making night hideous,”
I am sorry to say I shan’t be here! “Such sweet com-
pulsion doth in music lie,” I shall be compelled to travel
away from yours! Well, as the coast is clear, I'll go down!

A pretty muss they’ve made of it down here. Fur, and
blood, and bones! That salient thief did get my tit-bits,
aure enough. Well, it is said there is such a thing as
starving possible! I suppose I am beginning to feel some-
thing like the premonitories. I have tasted nothing since
daylight yesterday morning; but they say an empty stomach
for long wind, and I am likely to need all the wind I can
raise before I get across this prairie. Some of the boys
will be in sight though, by the time I reach the mouth of
the gorge. It can’t be that they are all scalped, and they
must know that I am here. Oh, yes, I shall see them, and
what a laugh we'll have comparing roosts.

I set off down the valley, reached the prairie, strained my
eye over the desolate expanse, and not a living thing was to
be seen. I went to the tree where I left the Doctor dangling;
the wolves had stripped the bones of the bear, and were still
lingering around them. That immortal spear was sticking
between the ribs, where he had driven it, no doubt, with
splenetic vigor. I looked around for some trace of his
bones, but none were to be seen.

Great God, it can’t be they are not coming! Foolish
expletive! when one neither believes in the greatness or
the Godship. Instinct of education! Bah! one needs
something more get-at-able and substantial than instincts
and old wives’ tales at such times as this!

I climbed the tree to the top-most bough, and strained
my eyes till they ached again. Wide and terrible solitude;
not an insect chirped, not a leaf stirred. The pulses of my
heart sounded like the throes of a mountain; I began to
imagine it the centre of all vitality—the only thing that

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 369

throbbed and felt beneath the sun; and that His great fire
burnt alone for me. Pity that one couldn’t live on beams,
as they say the poets do.

I wish I was a poet! If things have been here, just as
they look now, since the Flood, I wonder if the grass, and
trees, and sun, have not become tired of each other’s faces,
everlastingly by the same. It must be quite a relief to them
to have me here.

Who—what hears me when I talk? ‘The earth, these
stolid hills, or the solemn oaks, or the bowed grass? They
all have ‘“‘airy tongues,” and mysterious whisperings have
been heard between them. It is evident if they talk they
must hear, and if they hear, they surely must pity me.
Pity! I must be whining of pity! What have I to do
with it? Have I been pitiful to friend or foe? Have I
not swelled, till I was nigh to burst with ravings of defiance
to the heavens above and the earth beneath, of the proud
mastery of my own will? Where is it now? Cowed by
silence! Egad! I did not know, that as he lay in his
“old couch of space and airy cradle,” this “‘silence’’ was
so awful! I wish I had Atlas’ shoulders—that old couch
and airy cradle are terribly heavy as they lean upon me!

What is this silence and this awe? Oh, is it God’s presence?
Is this the way he looks and comes—with a fearful calm
upon him! Is there a God out here in these tremendous
wilds? I cannot see Him—unless this vast stagnation, this
breathless, bare infinitude of waste, this huge, levelled corse
be He! I cannot feel Him, unless it is He, striving to crush
my life out with this hideous weight of stillness! Hah! He
is not, or He is a God who loves to torture. They will not
come. I have been set apart for an awful death, that His
dread hate may gloat upon my agonies, because I have defied
Him.

It shall not be. I will not starve, I fairly screamed ; life
is strong in me, and where the wolf lives, I can live. I'll

24

370 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

be subtler than the serpent. My scent shall be keener than
the sleuth-hound’s, my sight than the vulture’s. Il run
swifter than the deer. I will wrestle hand to claw with the
prairie wolf, that I may tear out his heart to eat—but I will
baulk that imperious Malignity. Die by inches? NotI. Pll
set the prairie on fire to beacon the Comanches, and dare
them to battle for my scalp, or give me food.

And so the infidel fiend within me mouthed its impotent
ravings, in the face of Heaven’s Majesty, until I almost
fainted with exhaustion.

I slid out of the tree, and threw myself upon the grass.
Long I lay there, half stupefied; my blood raging and brain
whirling with fearful images. A solitary raven “tolled in
his hollow beak,” and aroused me. I knew it was one of the
‘ill birds,’’ though I had never seen or heard one before. I
looked up. It sat upon the oak just over me, and the limbs
were swaying with its weight. It “tolled” that “sick man’s
requiem” again, then turned its head aside and stared, with
“grave inquisition’ in its black, glittering eyes, down upon
me. You've come too soon, you eborty wizard! Not dead
yet, I thank you! and I stared at its carnal glance. Its
gray, scaly legs had stains upon them—uairs were clotted
on its claws, and the fellow had not even wiped his sharp,
wedge-like beak clean.

Think how slovenly, when he came to offer the services of
the instrument to pick my eyes out! What wonder I felt
indignant, and the life began to wake up in me again. I
did not want him go! It was a ghastly companionship, but
then I had always felt strangely curious about them, for
they are wonderful creatures. They live where nothing else
can be seen to live—out in the trackless desert—vast
wildernesses of desolation—where even the clouds haye fled
away, and there is nothing but the sky and sun above, and
sands and rocks beneath; the winnow of their. black wings
stirs the dead air, and their harsh, sepulchral croak, startles

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 871

the torpid echoes from a sleep of ages. “He that feedeth
the young ravens!” I felt now the striking sublimity of
that figure.

Dark-plumed spirit of the. desolation, in what grim wild
hast thou thy home? Thou hast snuffed the slaughter from
afar, and been coursing with death around the world. Yet
there are wide throats gaping with ravin in that foul nest
of thine. How dost thou live, and how art they fed, while
thou art crossing continents, the mate of famine? Waugh!
waugh! woo-a-ugh! he “tolled” again, and spread his black
wings and flapped indignantly away! The omen of his coming
is not ill to me; where he goes there must be something to
live upon.

It is no miracle that gives refreshing to these tireless
wings. Ha! I have it. . The snails! Hays said the bears
came down to feed upon them. I rose, with new hope,
examined the ground about me, and, to my great joy found,
scattered here and there over the surface, quite a number
of snails, some of them as large as my thumb. Ah! ha! I
said, I should not starve! and a gleam of exultant triumph
shot through my inmost soul.

Defeated! defeated! I shouted, as I impiously shook my
clenched, paltry hand toward the fathomless wide heavens;
I shall neither die of starvation, nor, unless I will it, at the
hands of the Indians. There is game in the hills to be had
for the shooting, but I do not choose to turn “ root-digger,”’
as I should have to do when my ammunition gives out. 1
burrow with my claws for the gratification of no one. The
first shot would bring the Comanches upon me, and I am
not ready for them yet! I shall go back among men, and show
the cowards how much a haughty purpose can aceompiish.
With nothing to creep behind, deer could not be approached
on the dead level of the plain before me.

These snails, that ghostly-eyed, jolly old croaker has
helped me to, will last so long as the sterility and the sand

3872 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

continue. What a fool I was to have lain there mumbling
like a toothless crone, who pleads with death for one hour
more of palsied life, when my veins are full of life. I am
strong, and there is enough to eat scattered over the earth
A child could hardly ask for more! I soon collected enough
to make. a meal. Oh, ye epicures, tell me not of your
crustaceous delicacies, out of the deep sea. Snails—snails
that grow upon the sands for me; though they are rather
light food for a walk of three hundred miles, it must be
confessed.

Being refreshed in my inner man, I looked at matters
very coolly. The plain must be crossed; it lay between me
and life; and the sooner the attempt was made the better.
So I girded up my loins and started towards the sunrise.
All that I knew about the course was, that we came west,
and therefore east must be the direction back.

There were no objects to assist me in keeping the right
line. I must walk with my shadow behind me in the morning,
and before me in the evening, looking steadily at the horizon,
my gaze fixed upon some slight feature, a wave or curve of
its contour just under the sun. All day long I walked with
my eyes fixed on something, which turned out to be nothing
that could be distinguished from the vast level plain around
when I reached it. Yet, I felt that I had kept the line,
and that was a great deal. I had always to stop before it
grew dark, to look for snails and water. For a day or
two the snails were abundant, and I came to water at least
once a day, but then they both began to grow scarce. The
gnawings and parchings of hunger and thirst commenced
at the same time. I could no longer keep my course steadily,
for my eyes must be employed all the while in looking for
food and water. A herd of Mustangs would go by now and
then, stop a moment to shake their silky manes, snort and
stare in startled wonder, and then sweep on before I could
approach within gun shot. The deer would rise lazily from

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING, 3873

their couches of “knot-grass, dew be-sprent,” prick their
ears, toss their slight heads, whistle and bound away. The
awkward cranes would stalk to and fro, gesticulate with
their long necks, and croak; then stop, spread their broad
wings, and go with. their long shanks dangling behind them.
But I could never kill them; for, though hunger made me
reckless at last, and I could fire, I would hear the shot
rattle smong their thick feathers: but it availed nothing.
They still sailed croaking off.

These were the only living things, except “horned frogs,”
that IF saw; and while my strength held out, I would chase
the last, nimble, ugly little creatures, with an eagerness
inconceivable. Yes, there were wolves, too; but they are
minions of the devil, not honest, living things. Some of
them were on my trail all the time, determined to be in at
the death. Oh, how fiercely I hated them. I tried all
manner of devices to lure them within gun-shot, but it was
of no avail. They were too subtle. The hairy ghouls!
they have the “second sight.” They can see death before
he strikes, and they will slink and creep with horrid patience
in his wake, for one lap of blood. It would make me shiver
to turn and see them, like my shadow, forever trailing me.
And then at night they would sit around and howl and moan
for hours and hours, as if they were determined I should learn
my own requiem by heart!

Snails and water were becoming yet more difficult to obtain,
and I weaker and weaker every hour. Still Iatravelled on,
though my gait was staggering. I had drawn my hunger-
belt, until I looked like a wasp. My senses begame painfully
acute. The clang of a crane’s wing, or his croak as he rose,
would thump and crash against my tympanum like thunder,
and roar through my brain in reverberations for minutes
after. The earth’s smell became rank and oppressive; and
when the breeze swept by, it sounded like the whirring of

874 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.”

ten thousand wings. I began to see strange sights on the
prairie. Armies with banners would hurtle by, and their
tread would shake the earth. It would turn out to be a
flying troop of mustangs. Great lakes of water would
glimmer in the sun before me, and when I would reel along
a little faster to reach them, they would still travel on, and
I could not lessen the distance between them and me.

I was too weak to curse, but I thought of heaven-doomed
Tantalus! The star-beams hurt me with their icy keenness,
and the moon’s light made my teeth chatter; mist forms of
those I loved would sail along the air, solemnly and slow,
their still eyes fixed on me. The wail of the accursed wolves
would sound like the clamoring volume of agonies rolled up
from a teeming bell-pick, or the moaning of. a northern ocean
through cavernous icebergs. The blood tingled sharply and
stung along my veins; while my stomach was cold as if it
were dead. I felt as if I were cut in two, and my head and
feet acting from different volitions. At night, I would lie
with my mouth open and tongue out, gasping for the dew. I
would eat the grass like a beast, before the sun had dried it.

Yet I travelled on, for while I was in motionyI felt the
horrors less; and sometimes my body seemed to drink in
unnatural vigor from the atmosphere, giving me ecstatic
visions. The most delicious moments of my life would
crowd upon me, bringing all familiar faces, wearing the
expression I loved best to remember them by. But they
were spiritualized, and seemed to be the angels of old joys;
and they looked with such pitying tenderness into my eyes,
that tears woyld gush from them in hot torrents. And then
all mirthful phantasies would dance and gleam about me, in
such quaint shapes of sparkling beauty, that I would laugh
aloud and stretch my arms to clasp, that I might kiss them.
But when, from sheer exhaustion, I was compelled to lie
down, then the awful hell of torture would commence to

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING.: 875

rage within me; and famine would tear and wrench at my
vitals. Thirst, fiery thirst, would seethe, and boil, and shoot
like electric flame along my veins.

In this condition I had been moving along like one in a
dreadful dream, for two days, and yet no alleviation. I still
clung to my gun; but, merciful heavens! how heavy it had
become. It felt like Goliath’s beam; sunk into my flesh,
and seemed to be crushing the very bones. Yet I would
not give it up. I could not bear the thought of being killed
without the opportunity of revenge. It would have been a
glorious happiness to have met the Comanches, and died
defiant. Those fiend-whelps, the wolves, to have them
snarling their white fangs over me, while I was yet alive,
was too horrible. —

I had almost lost the capability of further wrestling with
inevitable fate, when I suddenly noticed on the prairie before
me, that which appeared like a cluster of trees. I was strong
again in an instant. My feet seemed to bu shod with some
buoyant principle. ‘Water! water! water.” my parched
lips. articulated at every step. As I approached, I could
perceive there were other “motts’” scattered at wide intervals
of miles in a line across the plain. This I knew indicated
the presence of a stream; and oh, what a thrill of hope, for
I was humbled now, it sent through my weakened frame.

In an hour I reached the nearest “mott,”—a cluster of
scrubby timber, covering about thirty square feet—and I
almost screamed with eager delight, as I saw from the gully
on which it stood, the gleam of water. I dropped my gun,
tumbled down the bank, threw myself prostrate on the brink,
and plunged my head up to the shoulders in the clear fluid.
I gulped several huge rapid swallows on the instant; but
when I paused for breath—horror of horrors !—Great God!
it was as salt as brine! It all came up in an instant, and it
was like tearing out my vitals. The blackness of darkness
came around my brain. I was insensible.

876 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

I cannot tell how long I lay there, but I fell with a portion

of my body in the water, and this revived me. I waked to
consciousness, with my brain clearer than it had been for
;several days. I felt that the game was all up now, anda
strange calmness took possession of me. I smiled even, to
think what a wild feverish struggle I had gone through to
preserve a boon so utterly worthless as life now seemed—
and how foolishly obstreperous and bitter I had been about
things that now appeared as mere conventional whimsicalities!
To die! why it is a sweet, a glorious prospect! What was
life without the joy and happiness of dying? To die of
starvation! It will be deliciously pleasant, as being lulled
to sleep by the roundelays of home.

Strange! I never thought of God now but as a name; it
was an inevitable law of being I obeyed, gladly and meekly!
The fancy took possession of me that I wanted to lie down
on the green moss under the trees. I must make one more
effort to get there. J attempted to crawl, but was too weak,
and fell! I lay for some time, and still that fancy haunted
me so singularly, that my powerless limbs regained a partial
vigor; I crawled on my hands and knees up the bank. It
took me a long time to do this. I felt as if it was my last
duty, and desperately I struggled to accomplish it. I passed
my gun and dragged it along with me. I thought of the
wolves, and wanted to go to sleep in peace.

I reached the mott. There was one bright green spot,
under the largest tree, in the, centre. That’s the place.
It will be a lovely couch. I managed to reach it, and
stretched myself upon my back, with my gun by my side,
and my head resting on a cushion of moss near the root.
My eyes were closed. An indescribable sense of weakness’
pervaded my being. I felt that I should never rise from
that place again. But I was happy. The agony was over;
the “fitful fever” had grown cal, and was slowly sinking
me to rest. The loved faces of that far away home came

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 377

around me for the farewell. Others stooped from the clouds
and beckoned and smiled for me to come on. They wore
wings—oh, how I longed to be with them. It was a pleasant
trance. I felt that I should never lose sight of them again:
that before many hours I should feel myself, buoyant as they,
rise up from the damp earth, and float away towards the
stars. A sunbeam, struggling through the leaves, fell on
my closed lids, and shocked me back to earth again. I
opened my eyes for one more look at the glad sun and
beautiful earth. I looked up.

What! can it be? Strange! strange! There zs a God!
That very being J—poor I—had thought to scorn, is here
in the sublimity of mercy. He has work for thee to do, and
has willed thou shalt not die yet!

Directly above me, within six feet of my face, crouching
close to the body of the tree, was a large Fox squirrel. The
instant my eye fell upon it, I felt that I had been reprieved,
and life and all its objects rushed back upon my heart again.
Not a shadow of an idea crossed my mind that there was
even a possibility of the creature escaping me. I felt as
well assured that I should get back to Bexar, and home, as
if I had already been sitting in the old rocking chair. [
felt awed, too, for here was the rebuke, broad and bright as
the sun’s path, of my feeble and impious presumption !

Who shall sound Thy compassion with a plummet, thou
marvelous Majesty of Heaven? His hand—the hand of the
God of Jacob! This is His act! I have looked upon that
hand, and in that act have heard his pitying voice. ‘Go,
thou poor worm,—live, and sin no more!” I lay perfectly
still several minutes, watching it breathe, and thinking how
its poor life had been given for mine. I had been too weak
to raise my hand before, now I slowly, and with care, lifted
my gun with one hand, without changing my position at all,
raised it without aim, for I felt I couldn’t miss it, and fired.
Tt fell upon my breast. I sat up, drew my knife, cut it up

378 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

deliberately, and ate as much as I cared at once, raw! and
then, with the first prayer of Faith, of thanksgiving, and of
praise that ever breathed upon my lips, sunk back, and was
sound asleep in a moment.

I slept for twenty-four hours, as near as I can judge.
On waking, I finished the remainder of the squirrel, and
felt quite able to walk again; though, on attempting to rise,
I staggered sorely for awhile. But the conviction that I
should meet with no further difficulty, had become a matter
of such positive certainty, that J never dreamed of a doubt.

“The evidence of ‘things unseen” had reached me through
the material at last. Faith looked: farther and higher than
the senses. I knew that I knew! The Penates of the soul,
the image of the desolation and the humble instrument, had
assumed their holy niches! I was happy, full of love, and
humble. Spring-time visions came again. The brazen,
glowing sky, and the red, cloudy earth, had passed from
before my eyes, and the blue heavens and a natural sun
were over me. The ice-ring melted from around my heart,
sense and thought and brain were clear again! The madness
had passed away. I clapped my hands and laughed aloud
for joy !

In about two hours I saw two men on horseback, herding
a drove of cattle. Iwas not surprised. I expected something
of the sort. The men rode towards me. I saw they were
Mexicans. I knew there was nothing to expect from these
traitorous wretches, by fair means, so I concealed my gun
by running it up my hunting-shirt, and waited for them to
come within range. They approached very cautiously, and
when they were within thirty paces of me, I drew my gun
suddenly forth and brought it to bear upon them. They
were desperately frightened, and would have wheeled and
galloped off, but something in my look showed that I was
not joking. I ordered them up to me, dismounted the one
on the best horse, took his seat, waved my hand in adieu to

METAPHYSICS OF BEAR HUNTING. 379

the chapfallen-looking scoundrels, who had expected to plunder
me, and galloped off.

The motion of the horse was dreadful. I remember
dropping the bridle, and seizing the high pommel with both
hands, while the horse dashed off towards the eastward, at
the top of his speed. The next thing I remember was being
lifted off by the Rangers at the door of Johnson’s, in the
square of Bexar. I heard some of them say, “ Poor fellow!
I thought it was his ghost.”

The days were a blank then for several weeks. My next
waking was in a pleasant room, in bed, with the little Doctor
bending anxiously over me. I was safe—the crisis was
past! The Doctor had been wounded, and was now a spare,
thin little body. I supposed he, too, had seen his troubles.

It appeared that the body of Comanches had been very
large. They had attacked the different detachments of our
scattered party, very nearly at the same time, and so entirely
dispersed it, that not more than two ever got together again.
Two men had been killed, and several others wounded. Hays
had saved the Doctor’s life, with the faithful aid of pony;
and it is said the Doctor means to have pony embalmed when
he dies. All had a hard time coming in; but my case was
rather the most desperate.

The sagacious critic will no doubt smile at the importance
I have attached to these simple incidents. He is free tu
sneer—they are facts, and the most remarkable under the
circumstances that ever came under my observation. This
“mott” was not more than thirty feet square; the trees
dwarfish, and none of them nut-bearing. It was fully six
miles, above and below, to the other motts, and they were
not 80 large as this one, and were thirty miles from any
other timber. :

The sterile prairie produced nothing which I could perceive
to be natural food for such an animal. It may have been

$80 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

migrating, but they generally do so in large numbers, keeping
near the water; there was none in this region. How the
creature got there, and how it lived, will always be a positive
mystery to me. The impression made by this combination
of singular circumstances—the fact of its being there at all—
then of my seeing it, just at the crisis when I thought I was
dying—its crouching so close to me as to make it a matter
of impossibility almost for me to fail of killing it, even in my
fecble condition,—all together, it can never fade from my
memory.

CHAPTER XIII.

HUNTING PL JARLES IN TEXAS—A BEAR-HUNT WITHOUT
THE METAPHYSICS.

NatuRAaLists are very fond of calling our American ani-
mals cowardly. This sweeping statement is only a partial
tii; and I, for one, have got tired of hearing it reiterated.
The animals of this continent were originally just as ferocious
towards man,—if that’s what they call bravery, and the fear
of him cowardice !—as were any of the most formidable of
the Eastern hemisphere, in proportion to the size and strength
of the races.

Our forefathers, with their terrible rifles in hand, found
our wild beasts quite sufficiently disposed, for their comfort,

381

3882 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to dispute ascendency with them in the land. They had
been accustomed to grapple with the Red man, armed only
as he was with lance and bow, and in these conflicts, the
animals were by no means unfrequently the conquerors.
Now they are compelled to battle with a new and invisible
power—an agent as mysterious in its operations, as it is
terrible in its effects—which, as it overawed and intimidated
their ancient foes, the Red men, might weil be expected to fill
them with the panic of an indefinable dread.

The growth of this wholesome fear has been very gradual .
and slow. The rifle had driven them from f-onticr to frontier
of all the older States, before any marked cnange in their
respect for the genus homo began to be apparent.

The Panther, which at first made fight wits the hunter
wherever he met him, had learned to be mire circumspect,
and instead of becoming the assailant, and haping from the
limb whereon he crouched above, diwn on his foe below, was
content to let him pass, and stand cnt:-ely upon the defensive ;
even the Black Bear, who formerly had been notorious for
his unceremonious habit of purhing his cold nose into what-
ever he might perceive going on before him, be the actors
who they might, became almost a proverb of prudence. The
wild cat, who sometimes lost his temper in love-making time,
and challenged any buck-skinned intruder he might meet on
the war-path for a fight hand to claw, now contented himself
with “giving the road” as his sagacious nostrils recognized
the smell of gunpowder ahead.

Now these changes should not by any means be stigmatized
‘as the result of cowardice, but be honorably set down to the
credit of a cautious reasoning: they had found an enemy
armed with an agency, the nature or effects of which they
could neither comprehend nor counteract; they therefore
wisely concluded to avoid it—just as any other logical
thinkers, reasoning from experience, would have done.

However, let any of those believers in the cowardice of

HUNTING PECCARIES IN TEXAS. 883

our wild animals, even at this late day, venture into the
fastnesses of the Dismal Swamp, or any of those enormous
cane-brakes locked up within the sluggish embrace of the
bayous of the Mississippi, and propose to shake hands with
the first Panther he meets, or offer the fraternal hug to Bruin,
and he will see what a reception he will find ?—let him be
armed with as many guns and pistols as he can carry, I’ll
engage he will need to make the most of them, the first tima
he comes within spring of a panther, or treads on the tail (?)
of a bear.

The fact is, the introduction of fire-arms, in modifying the
face of the whole globe, physically as well as morally and
mentally, bas not failed, of course, in its effects upon savage
animals as well as savage men. If it has thundered civiliza-
tion or extermination into the ears of one, it has as well
detonated circumspection into the ears of the other.

Before the Hast India conquests of the British introduced
fire-arms, the bold and open ravages of lions, tigers, and other
wild beasts, were frequently carried to such a formidable
extent, that whole villages of the imbecile natives were
depopulated by a single animal, to destroy which armies
had to be assembled; and even they have been beaten back
from the jungles, without effecting their object more than
partially. When British officers first commenced lion and
tiger hunting, it was considered the most dangerous sport
in the world; and the records and correspondence of that
period teem with fearful tales of bloody deaths at the horrid
jaws of those animals. At that time, the tiger, without
hesitation, attacked large parties of men, leaping into their
midst from the jungle, and carrying off a victim without
regard to epaulettes ur color: while the lion charged boldly
into camps, carrying off men, oxen, or any other dainties
that happened to suit his taste.

In hunting on elephants, it was so exceedingly rare to find
one who would charge a jungle after the scent of the tiger

884 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

had reached him, that such an animal commanded the highest
prices. Now the tables are so entirely turned, that we never
hear of any one being carried off by these animals, whether
native or not, except in the remote interior of the forests of
Bengal and Africa, into which the heavy and formidable rifle
of the British sportsman has not yet carried its ounce-ball
terrors. While hunting on elephants has become a sport,
attended with so little danger, that even the placid nerves
of a clerk from Threadneedle street may now venture to
partake of the indulgence, fortified with a little cotton stuffed
in his ears to drown the roars of the brute, and a little sal
volatile to stay his spirits when the blood begins to flow.

The dreaded tiger now skulks in caves and deepest jungles,
until frightened forth by the maddening and incessant play
of rockets, grenades, and every other species of torturing
fire-works. While the lordly lion waits behind the bush for
the assault of his foes, and is not known to charge, even
until several times wounded. In yielding to the mastery
mn has thus established, these animals have lost nothing
of their original characteristics, except so far as their rela-
tions to him are concerned—and in this the difference is
rither, as we have before remarked, to man the mechanical
intelligence, than to man the animal.

Nor are these gradual ameliorations of temper and habits,
so far as mankind are concerned, confined to quadrupeds
alone—birds, and all other creatures, partake of them, in
degrees proportioned to their intelligence. It is notorious
how soon game birds, and the whole family of rapacious
birds, learn to distinguish a man with a gun from a man
without a gun, and with such sagacity will they do this, tuo,
that we are seldom able to surprise them, by any stratagem
of concealed weapons.

And yet the white-headed eagle remains the white-headed
eagle, so far as its relations to the rest of the world are
concerned. It continues to thrash the vultures, to make

HUNTING PECCARIES IN TEXAS. 885

them disgorge their food—robs the fish-hawk of his shining
prey with just as splendid audacity as ever, and continues
with quite as ferocious astuteness to tear out the eyes of
any wounded deer or buffalo cow that it may perceive go
aside from the herd.

But, all rules have their exceptions—and it was to treat
concerning one of these exceptions, that this chapter has been
written. Certainly, however much other wild animals may
have yielded to the awful supremacy of that dread machine,
behind which man has entrenched his physical inferiority,
the Peccary cannot be accused of the same weakness; for of
a verity, it does seem to me that if those same formidable
tubes were to pour forth the thunders and fires of Hecla
itself, instead of the respectable little volcano, of which they
at present can boast, the belching of this huge and noisy
chaos would only increase the irate valor of this curious
little animal. It seems to be entirely insensible to all those
sudden influences, the unexpected supervention of which are
sure to cause panic in other animals. Ungovernable rage
seems to take the place of this panic—a rage quite as head-
long and as blind. Though scarcely more than eighteen
inches high by two and a half feet in length, it is yet,
really, one of the most formidable animals belonging to our
hemisphere. It is gregarious, and goes in droves of from
ten to fifty. Its jaws are armed after the manner of the
wild boar, with tushes, but they are of very different shape,
and if possible, more to be dreaded. They stand straight in
the jaws, instead of curving upwards, and have the form as
well as keenness of the lancet blade. Their motions are as
quick as lightning, and with shoulders, head and neck
possessing extraordinary muscular power, they manage to
slash and gash in the most horrible manner with ‘hese
villainous little weapons, which are only about an inch and
a half in length. As they do not hesitate to attack any
thing or any body, big or little, provocation or no provo-

25

886 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

‘

cation, that may chance to cross their paths, men and
animals very soon learn that their only safety is in flight.
As they rush upon the object in a body, and fight until the
last of their number is slain, it is fruitless to stop and battle
with them, as they would cut either a man or the largest
animal, so badly, before they could all be despatched, that
the victory would prove a dear one indeed.

There is no wild animal that will stop to fight them, and
men, dogs and horses run from them in the most ridiculous
consternation—indeed, they are the very terror of hunters.

This droll creature seems to be exactly the intermediate
between the family of hedge-hogs and that of the wild boar,
or common hog. Its general form, so far as the body is
concerned, resembles rather more that of the hedge-hog,
while its hair, which is about the average length of the
bristles of the common hog, is thinly set in a rough skin,
and flattened and sharp, as are the spines of the hedge-hog,
and of the same bony consistenee in appearance, though so
thin as not to be prickly to the touch, except very slightly,
when erected—as they always are if the animal is enraged,
after the manner of the whole family of porcupines. These
thin spines, or hairs, are also parti-colored—being barred with
the muddy white and bluish chocolate, producing the general
effect of a roan—they are destitute of a tail, (excepting
merely a fleshy protuberance,) in common with the hedge-hog,
and have that curious gland which is vulgarly called the
“navel on the back.” They have no appearance of the
navel underneath; and this depression of the spine, which
is directly over the loin, looks more like a navel than
anything else, though it contains a deposite of a certain
musk, which the animal gives forth when excited, and which
assimilates it again with the civet-cat of the East. Its
shoulders, neck and head resemble the wild boar quite
closely in conformation, though the outline, of course, is
muck more delicate, and sharpened at the snout. Its legs

HUNTING PECCARIES IN TEXAS. 387

and feet, also, are much like those of the boar. Its food
partakes of the character of that of both the boar and the
hedge-hog, consisting of mast, wild fruits, grains, grasses,
shoots of cane, roots, herbs, reptiles, &c.

But, with all its other peculiarities to answer for, the
drollest is yet to come. I refer to their mode of sleeping.
They usually frequent those heavy cane-brakes, through
which are scattered, at wide intervals, trees of enormous
size and age. ‘These, from their isolated condition, are
most exposed to the fury of storms, and, therefore, most
liable to be thrown down. We find their giant stems
stretched here and there, through the cane-brakes of Texas,
overgrown with the densest thickets of the cane, matted
together by strong and thorny vines. In these old trees
the Peccaries find their favorite lodgings. Into one of these
logs a drove of twenty or thirty of them will enter at night,
each one backing in, so that the last one entering stands
with his nose at the éntrance. The planters, who dread
them and hate them—as well on account of the ravages on
their grain crops which they commit, the frequent destruction
or mutilation by them of their stock, their favorite dogs,
and sometimes horses even, as on account of the ridiculous
predicaments, such as taking to a tree, or running for dear
life, ect., to which they have been subjected themselves by
them,—seek their destruction with the greatest eagerness.
When a hollow log has been found, which bears the marks
of being used by them, they wait with great impatience till
the first dark, cloudy day of rain. A dark drizzle is the
best, as it is well known that on such days they do not
leave their lodgings at all.

The planter, concealing himself just before day carefully -
out of view, but directly in front of the opening of the log,
awaits in patient silence the coming of sufficient light. Soon
as the day opens, peering cautiously through the cane he

888 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

can perceive the protruded snout and sharp watchful eyes of
the sentinel Peccary on duty, while his fellows behind him
sleep. Noiselessly the unerring rifle is raised, the ring of
its explosion is heard, and witha convulsive spring the
sentinel leaps forward out of the hole, and rolls in its death
struggle on the ground. Scarcely an instant is passed, a
low grunt is heard, and another pair of eyes is seen shining
steadily in the place the others had just held. Not a sound
is heard, the planter loads again with such dexterity that
not even a branch of the embowering cane is stirred. Again,
with steady nerve, the piece is fired, out springs the second
victim, as the first had done; then another takes its place,
and so on to the third, fourth, fifth, or twentieth, even to
the last of the herd; unless he should happen, by some
carelessness, to make a stir in the cane around him, when
out it springs, with a short grunt, without waiting to be shot
this time, and followed by the whole herd, when they make
a dash straight at the unlucky sportsman, who is now glad
enough to take to his heels, and blesses his stars if he should
be able to climb a tree or a fence, in time to save his legs.
If, during the firing, the sentinel should happen to sink in
the hole without making the usual spring, the one behind
him roots out the body to take its place. They do not
understand what the danger is, or whence it comes. Neither
do they fear it, but face its mysterious power dauntless to
the last. They never charge towards unseen enemies, until
guided either by the sight of some disturbance caused by a
motion in the thicket, or by those sounds, with which they
are familiar, indicating their position. Incredible as this
account may appear, it is actually the method in which the
settlements along Caney Creek and on the Brazos Bottoms
have been, of late years, in a great measure relieved of this
dangerous annoyance. When one is taken in a snare or
trap, it is torn to pieces by the others in their eagerness to

HUNTING PECCARIES IN TEXAS, 389

get it free. The planters amuse themselves very much by
relating these adventures, as there are many mirth-provoking
scrapes connected with them.

My first adventure with the peccaries I shall never forget.
I was stopping with a planter on Caney Creek for a few
days of rest and recreation. He was an old friend from my
native State, had been one of the early emigrants to Texas,
and was now settled with his brothers on a magnificent
plantation, of which their joint enterprise had made them
possessors. I was yet comparatively a new-comer, young,
eager, and withal the tragic incidents of my late initiation to
such life, an enthusiastic sportsman. Of course, I listened
curiously to their many relations of adventures in the chase,
which always form the chief topic of the social intercourse of
the border. It happened that the Peccaries had lately been
doing much mischief to their crops of grain, and as they
had been hunting them with great zeal and wrath, they
formed the principal theme of denunciation and narrative.
Their invective became quite amusing as they took me out
to show me several of their finest dogs, which had been
disabled by the shocking mutilation received in accidental
meetings with this fierce little animal. I say accidental,
because no dog could be found hardy enough to hunt it, after
having had one taste of its quality. The eldest brother told
me of a meeting with them the day before. He had walked
out with his rifle into a field of grain, on the border of the
plantation, to look for fresh traces of the bear, which,
together with the Peccary, had almost utterly destroyed his
corn. Here, by way of parenthesis, he exclaimed, “And I
did find the tracks of a whopping old he!”

“Tet us go hunting him then, this morning!” we all
exclaimed in a breath.

“Well, well, we'll see.”

When near the outside fence, he suddenly came upon a
drove of Peccaries in the very act of demolishment. It was

890 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

too late to retreat decorously, for he had already been seen,
and as is usual, they came charging headlong upon him,
grunting and snapping their white tusks at every jump.
It was useless to stop to shoot, taking to his heels was his
only chance. He made for the fence, which he succeeded
in climbing before they reached him. The foremost of them
reared themselves on their hind legs, endeavoring to reach
him, cutting at his feet with their sharp tusks most viciously.
It was a loose worm fence, and not very high, and they kept
him there for a few moments, dancing, to use his own
expression, “like a hen upon a hot griddle,” while he fired
as rapidly as he could load. He had killed several, without
any diminution of their ferocity. It rather indeed seemed
to be increased, if possible, when suddenly, to his unutterable
consternation, the frail fence broke down, and he measured
his length backward, in the cane outside. He sprang to his
feet, as you may imagine, with some celerity, and, before
they could reach him, over the ruins of the fence, had fairly
vacated. After a hearty laugh at this ridiculous misadventure,
the preparations for the bear hunt immediately commenced.

We were soon mounted and under weigh, four of us, and
attended by a negro “driver” on horseback, who, with his
long cow’s-horn swung about his neck, was to “put out”
the pack. The dogs were a fine and powerful breed, used
exclusively for bear hunting, and came of a cross of the
bull-dog on the fox-hound—they were all scarred with the
tusks of the Peccary and the claws of the bear. On our
way across the plantation my friend was particular in
counselling me how to behave in the event of any unpleasant
rencontre with the Peccaries—for he assured me flight was
my only alternative, unless I desired to have my horse
ham-strung, or every leg hopelessly gashed. I promised
to be very prudent, of course, but with the opening yell
of our dogs, all recollection of the existence of such creatures
as Peccaries vanished.

HUNTING PECCARIES IN TEXAS. 891

There was a nobler quarry on foot, and we plunged our
horses eagerly into the narrow tracks opening into the
cane-brake in the direction of the chase. We soon found
ourselves riding beneath the matted arches formed by the
meeting of the cane-tops, bound together by vines, ten or
twelve feet above our heads. The cane on either side
formed a wall so close, and seemingly so impregnable, that
it seemed to me that a starved lizard would have found
difficulty in making its way between the stems. So long
as we could remain in the paths, of which there were but
few, it was all very nice and exciting to listen to the fitful
music of the chase; but when it came bursting on us with
a roar of fitful yells, that made our horses shiver with
eagerness, and we scattered each man for himself, trusting
to his own ear, to enable him to intercept the chase, and
win the honor of the first shot, then the rough and fierce
realities of a bear hunt began to be realized. My fiery
horse plunged into the thickest of the brake, requiring my
whole strength to keep him within anything like bounds.
Now the bear had commenced circling in short turns through
the tallest and most dense of the cane; and very soon, when
the thundering chase went crashing past me, utterly invisible,
though within fifteen paces, my horse became entirely
unmanageable, and in three or four furious bounds, I was
torn from the saddle by the interlacing vines, through which
he was endeavoring to burst his way. I held on to the reins,
and recovered my seat, without stopping to count bruises ;
but the shock of the fall had brought me to my memory.
I now did what I should have done at first, had I retained my
self-possession, drew my heavy bowie knife, and commenced
cutting my way through the brake. Ho! the chase has made
another tack; and followed by the yells of my half-crazy
comrades, the wild route turns crashing and roaring towards
me again. This time my horse was even worse than before. At
the first plunge he again became entangled in the vires, and

392 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

whirling round and round in his furious efforts to release
himself, I soon had the satisfaction of finding myself and
horse twisted up in a net that would have defied the strength
of Samson to have burst. The pleasure of this predicament
was not a little increased, by the sight of the bear rushing
past at a few feet distance, with the whole pack biting at his
heels.

Alas for my prowess! in what a helpless case was I.
The moment my horse saw the bear, he uttered a wild
neigh—it was the first one he had ever faced—and backed
with such ungovernable terror and strength, that I was
almost torn to pieces by the vines, and choked in the bar-
gain. However, at the expense of my coat sleeve, which
was torn out at the arm-hole, my bleeding right arm was
freed from the infernal mesh, when a few desperate strokes
of my bowie-knife freed us from our desperate thraldom.
Now came, from near at hand, the deafening clamor of
baying, of shrieks, and hoarse growling, which told that
the bear had stopped to fight the dogs. Now is the chance
for the coveted shot, and it required no spur to urge my
horse in that direction. I commenced hewing my way
towards the scene, which seemed to be at the foot of a
large tree. I heard the shouts of my friends, who seemed
to be urging their way towards the same point. At about
the same moment two of us burst our way through the wall
of cane into the open space, about twenty feet in circum-
ference, that had been beaten down by the weight of the
enormous bear, during the battle. And such a scene as it
was! The bear, hearing our approach, had made an attempt
to climb the tree, and the dogs, encouraged by the same
sounds, had made a simultaneous rush, and were literally
all over his huge carcass, having hold of him on every side ;
our guns were instantly presented, but we feared to fire lest
we should kill the dogs.

While we stood thus hesitating, and the bear was tossing

HUNTING PECCARIES IN TEXAS. 393

the poor dogs like shuttlecocks to the right and left, quicker
than thought, a troop of grunting Peccaries came rushing in,
and charged headlong upon bear, dogs, and all. Such yells,
and screams, and roars of pain, and such a medley helter-
skelter rout as now occurred, would be difficult to describe.
The wounded dogs, with tails between their legs, came
skulking towards us. The bear, frantic with pain, rolled
his great carcass to and fro, and gaped his red mouth, as
he struck blindly about him here and there. The grunting
and rushing patter of an addition to the herd coming in
behind us, waked us from the sort of stupor this unexpected
scene had thrown us into for the instant. “ Run, run!”
shouted my friend, with a voice half choked with mingled
rage and laughter, and such a scurrying on all sides, for
the other hunters had just come in, and the cry of “Peccaries!
Peccaries! run! run!” and the popping of our guns all round
at them, as we urged our horses to escape through the cane,
closed this eventful scene, of my first introduction to the
Peccaries !

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BUFFALO.

But the wildest scenes to be witnessed on this hemisphere
are those connected with buffalo-hunting on the great plains.
This huge and shaggy brute affords a strong contrast in size
with the fierce and bristling little peccary, though in many
respects the formidable character of the two may be traced
tc a single and similar cause. The “downward eye,”
common to them, is this cause. Neither of them, from
the stiff and peculiar structure of the neck and placing of
the eye-balls, can, without an effort, see beyond the direct
plane of vision presented to the habitual carriage of the
head.

Whatever is thus exhibited to the peccary that has motion,
if it be merely the legs of an animal, it charges upon, as
we have seen; while the buffalo, which is less spontaneously
pugnacious, may regard the same as an object of stupid
suspicion, or of headlong, blundering terror. The buffalo
must be wounded to turn upon the pursuer, and then the
charge of the goaded and frantic monster, being always in
a straight line, is disarmed of half its dangerous character,
as the hunter is thus readily enabled to elude the effects
by a quick side motion.

The eye of the horse being more prominently placed, it
is enabled soon to acquire this facility of advantage; and
it is most surprising with what wary confidence the trained
steeds of a Black-feet, Sioux, or a Comanche will dash in
and through an interminable herd of these prodigious beasts,

304

THE BUFFALO. 895

winding in and winding out, amidst the surging tumult of
horns and heels, without receiving a scratch.

On no other conditions could this powerful animal be
assailed with sufficient effect to answer the requisitions of
the numerous tribes upon it for their yearly subsistence.
Were they able only to assail the outskirts of the herds, the
foraging they might do would be meagerly enough eked out
upon the weakly bodies of the sick and wounded and super-
annuated lingerers.

Indeed, were the buffalo possessed of the same alert, high-
headed and agile motions of the mustang, in addition to the
“bovine rage’”’ with which it seems so easily inspired, the
weight of the fore-parts of its body, and of the closely-
packed, incalculable columns in which it moves, of choice,
would make it the most formidable brute on earth, and
enable it to trample the mightiest armies of men like grass
in its path. There is no object in nature so terrible as the
headlong advance of a great herd of these animals thoroughly
aroused by terror. Niagara itself is not more tremendously
resistless than that black, bellowing torrent which is thus
sometimes poured through narrow defiles of Rocky Mountain
steppes, or which is suddenly turned loose like a new roaring
flood, to overwhelm the slant and trembling plains.

No sights equalling this are witnessed elsewhere on the
face of the earth, though South Africa exhibits an approxi-
mating parallel in the migratory movements of the Spring-
bock and other antelopes, to which we shall refer. <A
herd of elephant bulls, may be, and is properly esteemed
“ pro-di-gi-ous,” by English adventurers in that direction,
but the oceanic mases in which the native bison of our
plains are accust;med to move, have no real parallel except
those in which our people urge and act towards a given point
of empire !

When we come to think that at a rough estimate, more
than seventy thousand souls of our native tribes upon the

3896 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

plains depend, the year round, solely upon the slaughter of
buffalo for food, covering, and in a great measure, implements,
and then put this together, with the consideration that
probably not more than one out of twenty of the animals
slain is consumed, beyond the mere hide or hump, by these
thriftless and wasteful people, some estimate may be formed
of the aggregate increase necessary to keep up a supply for
the demand in this one quarter.

The inroads of our own race upon them, though great, .
are as yet comparatively insignificant. We are merely
guided by the utilities, and have slaughtered them rather
as objects of necessary food, than of commercial interchange
and profit. The wealth and dignity of the Indian warrior,
on the other hand, is nearly proportioned to the number of
buffalo robes he can afford to dispose of to the traders, and
therefore this article is to him the representative of value.
Hence he follows upon the track of the migratory herd, and
when undisturbed, continues to slay them with the sole and
improvident reference to the value of the skins at the
nearest trading post; while the object of food, amidst its
reeking abundance, is merely an incidental one. As it may
chance he merely cuts out some tit bit from the individual
slain, or leaves it, after stripping the skin, to the wolves who
follow faithfully in the wake of their sure purveyor.

The extent to which this reckless massacre is, and has
been habitually carried by the prairie Indians, can hardly
be computed; yet we have the strange and significant fact
that they have among them no tradition even of an appreciable
diminution in the numbers of the buffalo thus wantonly
slaughtered by them from remotest periods, which antedate
the first appearance of the white man upon their plains with his
sulphurous and panic-spreading engines of destruction. From
this ominous event the tribes date those fatal refluxes in
the stated periods and courses of migration of the herds,
which have been attended by most disastrous famines among

THE BUFFALO. 397

their people. Before this hated coming they and their
fathers had been accustomed to calculate, with the same
certainty with which the sailor does the ebb and flow of
ocean tides, these annual migrations, and could move with
or follow them at leisure and with confidence ; but suddenly
the mighty herds have snuffed some hidden danger on the
tainted breeze, and breaking away in mad and scattered
career over the plains, have defied pursuit, to gather again
in some remote and unaccustomed pastures beyond the reach
of this vague, indefinite dread which has met them on the
coming air.

Thus all calculations for the usual supply of the season
having been thrown entirely out, the tribes are left to struggle
with the precarious chances of again finding the buffalo.
They, too, have been accustomed heretofore to watching the
signs of the seasons, and could even scent a drought as far
as the grayest muzzle of the leaders of these herds, and
could, with unfailing sagacity, foresee what variation from
the usual trail this would cause with them. But now a new
sign was in the heavens, a prognostic of evil, which, as it
could only be felt in dread by their savage souls, was now
first more nearly interpreted by the sure instincts of their
brute co-occupants of these great solitudes and in these wild
panics, distant, so unaccountable to them at first, they soon
learned to recognize a mysterious apprehension of the remote
advance of that destroying Power, the realization of which
has now, though later, come to them more clearly. The
brute sense proved surer than the man’s in this, as in all
other instances in which circumstances have enabled us to
measure its actions and their results in regard to the
approaches of our race into the wildernesses of earth with the
fearful appliances of civilization. The shudder of approach--
ing dissolution has already passed through all those vast
herds, as well as felt in the awed souls of these savage
hunters.

898 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Of all the modes of hunting the buffalo practised by the
prairie tribes, there is no one, the accompaniments of
which are of such characteristic and terrible wildness, as
that of which the lithograph given is a strikingly accurate
delineation. The Indians are driving a maddened herd of
buffalo over the edges of one of those tremendous prairie
rifts or caviones, as they are sometimes incorrectly called by
the border men. These are vast yawning fissures, which
suddenly open on the great Plano Estacado, which stretches
in one prodigious plain from the foot of the Rocky Mountains
to the head waters of the Red River, Arkansas, &. Mr.
Kendall’s description of this scene in his Santa Fe Expedi-
tion, is so nearly accurate, that I give it here in his own
words.

We had scarcely proceeded six miles, after drying our
blankets, when we suddenly came upon another immense
rent or chasm in the earth, exceeding in depth the one we
had so much difficulty in crossing the day before. No one
was aware of its existence until we were immediately upon
its brink, when a spectacle, exceeding in grandeur any thing
we had previously beheld, came suddenly in view. Not a
tree or bush, no outline whatever, marked its position or
course, and we were all lost in amazement, as one by one
we left the double-file ranks and rode up to the verge of the
yawning abyss.

In depth it could not be less than eight hundred feet, was
from three to five hundred yards in width, and at the point
where we first struck it, the sides were nearly perpendicular.
A sickly sensation of dizziness was felt by all as we looked
down, as it were, into the depths of the earth. In the dark
and narrow valley below, an occasional spot of green relieved
the eye, and a small stream of water, now rising to the view,
then sinking beneath some huge rock, was foaming and
bubbling along. Immense walls, columns, and in some places
what appeared to be arches, were seen standing, modelle] hy

THE BUFFALO. 399

the wear of the water, undoubtedly, yet so perfect in form
that we could with difficulty be brought to believe that the
hand of man had not fashioned them. The rains of centuries,
falling upon an immense prairie, had here formed a reservoir,
and their workings upon the different veins of earth and stone
had formed these strange and fanciful shapes.

Before reaching the chasm we had crossed numerous large
trails, leading a little more to the west than we were travel-
ling ; and the experience of the previous day had led us to
suppose that they all terminated at a common crossing near
by. In this conjecture we were not disappointed, for a trot
of half an hour brought us into a large road, the thoroughfare
along which millions of Indians, buffalos and mustangs had
evidently travelled for years. Perilous as the descent
appeared, we well knew that there was no other near. The
leading mule was again urged forward, the steadier and older
horses were next driven over the sides, and the more skittish
and intractable brought up the rear. Once in the narrow
path, which led circuitously down the descent, there was no
turning back, and our half-maddened animals finally reached
the bottom in safety. Several large stones were locsened
from their fastenings by our men, during this frightful
descent; these would leap, dash and thunder down the
precipitous sides, and strike against the bottom far below
as with a terrific and reverberating crash.

We found a running stream on reaching the lower level of
the chasm, on the opposite side of which was a romantic dell,
covered with short grass and a few scattered cotton-woods.
A large party of Indians had encamped on this very spot but
a few days previous, the wilted limbs of the trees and other
“signs,” showing that they had made it a resting-place.
We, too, halted a couple of hours to give our horses an
opportunity to graze and rest themselves. The trail, which
led up on the opposite side, was discovered a short distance

400 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

above us, to the south, winding up the steep and rugged
sides of the acclivity.

As we journeyed along this dell all were again struck with
admiration at the strange and fanciful figures made by the
washing of the waters during the rainy season. In some
places perfect walls, formed of reddish clay, were seen
standing, and were they any where else, it would be
impossible to believe that other than the hand of man
formed them. The veins of which these walls were com-
posed were of even thickness, very hard, and ran perpen
dicularly ; and when the softer sand which had surrounded
them was washed away, the veins still remained standing
upright, in some places a hundred feet high, and three or
four hundred in length. Columns, too, were there, and such
was their appearance or architectural order, and so much
of chaste grandeur was there about them, that we were lost
in wonder and admiration. Sometimes the breastworks, as
of forts, would be plainly visible; then again the frowning
turrets of some castle of the olden time. Cumbrous pillars
of some mighty pile, such as is dedicated to religion or
royalty, were scattered about; regularity was strangely
mingled with disorder and ruin, and Nature had done it all.
Niagara has been considered one of her wildest freaks, but
Niagara sinks into insignificance when compared with the
wild grandeur of this awful chasm—this deep, abyssmal
solitude, as Carlyle would call it. Imagination carried us
back to Thebes, to Palmyra, and to ancient Athens, and
we could not help thinking that we were now among their
ruins.

Our passage out of this place was effected with the greatest
difficulty. We were obliged to carry our rifles, holsters, and
saddlebags in our hands, and in clambering up a steep pitch,
one of the horses, striking his shoulders against a projecting
rock, was precipitated some fifteen or twenty feet directly

THE BUFFALO. 401

upon his back. All thought he must be killed by the fall;
but, strangely enough, he rose immediately, shook himself,
and a second effort in climbing proved more successful—the
animal had not received the slightest injury !

By the middle of the afternoon we were all safely across,
after passing some five or six hours completely shut out from
the world. Again we found ourselves upon the level prairie,
and in looking back, after proceeding some hundred yards,
not a sign of the immense chasm was visible. The plain we
were then upon was at least one hundred and fifty miles in
width, and the two chasms I have mentioned were the reser-
voirs of the heavy body of rain which falls during the wet
season, and at the same time its conductors to the running
streams. The prairie is undoubtedly the largest in the world,
and the cafions are in perfect keeping with the size of the
prairie. Whether the waters which run into them sink into
them, or find their way to the Canadian, is a matter of
unsertainty—but I am inclined to believe the latter is the
case.

This description is accurate as the language is striking—no
language, indeed, can fully convey the sudden appal with which
this gaping waste of piled and torn immensity fills one coming
upon it for the first time. It forms a stern and most charac-
teristic feature of these dreary steppes, that climb through
thousands of miles by imperceptible slopes towards the white
soaring crests of the Rocky Mountain chain.

The buffalo trails leading from every conceivable direction
to centre at the far separated crossing places, are, most
probably, as old as the face of the continent, and are
frequently themselves worn into deep and impracticable
gullies, as you approach the point of convergence, by the
tramp of myriad hoofs through unrecorded centuries.

Nothing more strongly indicates the fatuitous recklessness
of the Indian tribes, whose sole dependence is upon this

animal, than the constant recurrence of such wanton and
26

402 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS,

wholesale massacres as this of which we give an illustration.
Although the buffalo, for causes at which I have hinted, are
yearly becoming less accessible to them—whether their num-
bers be so appreciably diminished in reality or not, yet they
persist, as of old, whenever they can come upon a herd,
however immense, feeding in such relative position to one
of these rifts as to offer the inducement of possible success,
in urging the panic-stricken masses over the sudden abyss,
where, bounding from rough point to point—down! down !—
their great bodies are piled in a huge hecatomb of blackened,
writhing, sweltering slaughter, such as could rejoice only
these Red Demons of destruction.

Next to this, in wholesale wantonness, among the methods
of hunting buffalo peculiar to their Indian foes, is the
“Prairie Surround.” The widely scattered line of the
Surround, enclosing some valley containing a herd, is
rapidly closed up by the yelling warriors composing it,
who drive the frightened animals from its circumference,
urging towards a centre, where, precipitated in the headlong
crush upon each other, the helpless mass sways, bellowing—
while amidst the dust-clouds of their collision, the forms of
the warriors, who have leaped from their horses upon the
backs of the buffalo, may be dimly seen treading the horned
tumult with fierce gestures, and wielding the long lance as
a rope dancer does his balance pole, with the slight difference,
that with nearly every step they thrust its sharp point down
through joint and marrow, between the spine and skull of
some new victim, whose shaggy back they have but pressed
in passing with their moccasined feet. Thousands are thus
slaughtered in a few moments.

This scene, as weird and wild as it is real, tames, by
contrast, all midnight phantasmagoria beneath the blaze of
the noon-tide.

CHAPTER XV.

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER FELINES.

In preceding articles I protested against any wholesale
denunciation of the native wild beasts of our continent ag
naturally cowards. It sounds like a sort of imputation upon
our soil, that it is not strong enough to have grown even
wild cats, panthers, bears, etc., with the full instincts of
destructiveness peculiar to their species elsewhere.

Mr. Audubon and Dr. Bachman, the editors of the new
work on the Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America,
entirely discredit what they call “the stories” of its boldness

in attacking larger animals, men or even children. I agree
408

404 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

that caution is a highly commendable trait in the character
of the Naturalist, but it may carry him into absurdities, too.
What is here asserted may be true enough of such poor
persecuted feeble specimens of these animals as may be
met with occasionally, lurking still about the borders of
swamps in the old States, and even at no great distance from
some of our southern cities—but that the wild cat did, and
does still, in remote localities, and during the rutting season,
attack grown up men with a prompt and formidable fierceness,
there is abundant evidence.

I have spoken fully of that salutary effect which the terror
of our formidable rifle has gradually impressed upon such
creatures in the progress of our civilization—but the frontier
settlements furnish many indubitable instances of their natural
ferocity. Indeed, I have myself heard from the venerable
lips of some of the honored compeers of Boone, in the settle-
ment of Kentucky, relations of personal encounters held by
themselves on unexpected meetings with creatures of this
feline family, for which they were unprepared, aid from
which they necessarily came off terribly mutilated.

I remember particularly one instance in which the wild
cat was met by the narrator in the narrow path which led
from his cabin to the spring. The hardy hunter, though he
had no weapon upon him but a common belt or sheath-knife
which he always carried, met his assailant with that, and
although he was fearfully wounded in the struggle, and
would, undoubtedly, have had his bowels torn out, but for
the partial protection which his stout buck-skin dress afforded
him, yet he succeeded in despatching it with this small
weapon.

The venerablé soldier, who, by the way, is the ancestor
of a very large and respectable family in Kentucky, showed
me the plain scar of wounds from its claws and teeth upon
his person. All corroborative circumstances which family
reminiscences and tho character of the man furnished, left

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 405

one no hook to hang a doubt upon in this case, and left me
more inclined to believe the many anecdotes of the same
kind, which are as familiar to us of the southwest as house-
hold words.

Nor are such relations to be thus summarily disposed of,
as old wives’ tales; the hearsay and hap-hazard gossip of the
borders, for they are sound, substantial realities—just as
much historical truths of those times as the battle of the
Horse Shoe, of the River Raisin, or of the Blue Licks, or
any other collision that might be named between the white
race and a foe quite as savage as even I can suppose the
most ferocious of these animals to have been, and like them
rapidly disappearing before our coming.

There can be no question that the port of the civilized
man, even without the adventitious aid of the fearful engines
he wields, is in itself sufficient, when he chooses to assert
his God-like supremacy upon a physical world, to overawe
and subdue the most untameable brutes; utierly changing —
their relations to himself, by the majesty of his presence
and his will!

The Editors of the Quadrupeds of America give, in a
short anecdote, an illustration to the point:

During a botanical excursion to the EHdista river, our
attention was attracted by the barking of a small terrier at
the foot of a tree. On looking up, we observed a wild cat,
about twenty feet from the ground, and at least three times
the size of the dog, of whom he did not appear to be much
afraid. He seemed to have a greater dread of man, however,
than of this diminutive specimen of the canine race, and
leaped from the tree when we drew near !

Yet with all the timidity this anecdote is intended to
illustrate, the wild cat, from its desperate fighting and
cunning, affords a very exciting sport to the hunter. When
overtaken by the dogs, several of them are frequently killed
by it, aud Mr. Audubon gives some instances of its subtlety

406 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

in eluding pursuit, which would do credit ‘a hood himself,
One of them is, that he makes for some half dried swamp
or pond, and runs into the most sticky clay, seeming to be
aware that the stockings with which his legs would be
defended when he came out, would prevent the scent being
deposited from his feet, and dull the ‘trail! A shrewd
conjecture that! but not, as I think, particularly plausible,
for in a few bounds the mire would be rubbed off the soles of
his feet, from which alone the scent is emitted, and leave him
badly off as ever. I have described the cunning strategy of
this creature, in the Night Hunt of an earlier chapter.

But I know hundreds of well authenticated instances in
which the cougar or panther attacked the early hunters—
springing upon them as readily from ambush, as they would
have done upon a deer.

I should not feel authorized to mention at second-hand
any incident of the many I could command, as entitle? to
stand among the facts of natural history, but that in my
own personal experience I have so frequently witnessed such,
that I am compelled to allow some of these a weight propor-
tioned to their authority.

In an excursion towards the Rocky Mountains, I have
met all our most formidable animals under the -most varied
circumstances of sudden collision. On this expedition we
saw several skins and two specimens in the flesh of the puma,
which is yet unrecognized by any American Naturalist. It
is evidently a transitional genus, partaking: of the charac-
ters of both the lion and the cougar. It has clearly the
rudimental mane and tufted tail, which characterizes the
former, while its habits approximate those of the latter.

I once, while hunting around a camp on one of the head
streams of the Red River, encountered a puma, in a manner ©
much resembling the instance of the wild cat given above.
I had gone out in the early morning to hunt, with a comrade,
and we were carelessly walking through the thick woods in

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 407

Indian file, when I, who was behind, suddenly observed a
creature, which I supposed to be a panther, in the act
of springing from the low limb of a bending tree on my
companion—who was a few feet in advance of me. I shouted
in warning to him, when he sprang forward, and I fired.
The ball struck the creature “on the leap” just between
the eyes, and it fell at my feet. The eyes were burst from
the sockets, and its yells and dying struggles were terrific.
On firing another load into it, these struggles ceased.

After our surprise had subsided, I examined it coolly, and
found it to be entirely distinct from the cougar, both in size,
which I am convinced was considerably greater, (I took no
measurement,) and color, which instead of tawny, was a light
roan, or mingled red and dull white. Then the head was of
greater size in proportion to the body, and the rudiments of
a mane and tufted tail were sufficiently distinctive. I regret
that I was not more careful at the time, for my measurement
might have substantiated a new species.

A hunter attached to Sir William Drummond Stewart’s
Expeditions, was assailed by a Puma leaping down upon him
from off the face of a bluff, as he rode beneath. He was
walking his horse slowly, when his attention was aroused by
the rolling down of a pebble or some fragment of rock.
Looking up quickly, the terrible brute was crouching above
him, with ears laid back close upon its head, and he saw
the wavy stir of the tail in the grass, and brambles above.
To whip out his holster was the act of an instant, and he
fired into its face, as the yellow glare of those eyes was
almost against his own in the descent of its leap. He was
considerably torn by its claws in the death-struggle, but
the heavy ball of his holster had crushed its skull to pieces.

Mr. Miller afterwards made a sketch of the scene of
this occurrence on the spot, and it is given at the head of
this chapter.

But what is more in point, we saw several skins of these

408 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

creatures, which had been killed near San Antonio de Bexar,
in Texas, which is a very old Spanish town; yet, on the
most careful inquiry, we learned from the hunters, that they
were quite as cowardly, and averse to attacking man as the
cougars, which yet linger in the swamps of the Mississippi,
the pine woods of the Carolinas, or along the course of
our Western rivers, are known to be.

The secret of this is, that the creatures we met on the
remote waters of the Red River, where the hunter’s rifle
had probably been never heard, were in fact living in entire
unconsciousness of its formidable prognostics and accompani-
menis.

I had also an adventure once with the oceolet, which fully
illustrates the progress this sort of intimidation has made in
altering our relations to such creatures. -

The oceolet—which is, next to the common house cat, the
base of the felines, and has always been set down in old
books of natural history as, in proportion to its size, one
of the most incorrigibly fierce of its tribe, and which may
still with truth be called the most untameable, as it is the
most beautiful of all—yet showed itself to be even more
timid than I, in a sudden rencontre !

I was hunting with a friend near his ranche, on the San
Antonio river, one morning. The two untrained dogs which
accompanied us soon ran off far enough ahead down the
course of the heavily timbered river bottom. We were
walking through a field which had been opened into the
timber, and which being now uncultivated, was fringed by
a thick briar-path. As we approached this, some creature
sprang up from its outer edge, where it had probably been
sunning itself, and we heard it rattling away into the
adjacent forest, which at this place was below where we
‘stood. '

On looking down over the top of the thicket, we saw the
beautifully mottled form of an oceolet, clinging to the trunk

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 409

of a large cotton-wood tree, some ten feet from its base, with
its striped face turned back over its shoulders, curiously
regarding us. It was in short point blank range, and I
immediately fired. It dropped out of view, and when I
forced my way through the thicket and reached the foot
of the tree, it had disappeared. There was a large hollow
in the foot of the tree, into which we supposed the creature
had fallen, for I felt sure of my aim.

On looking down, I saw it extended along the bottom,
apparently dead. I was anxious to obtain its skin, and
accordingly, after reloading my rifle, I, by a side-way
movement, pushed my arm, shoulders and head with diffi-
culty into the narrow gap, in hope that I should be able
‘to reach and draw it out. My head had scarcely been
introduced before a pair of flaming eyes looked up into
mine from the darkness, apparently within a few inches.
I, of course, struggled out as quickly as possible, under the
impression that the creature I supposed to have been killed
was only stunned. I put the muzzle of my rifle down the
hollow—and fired, as I thought, directly between the glowing
eyes. When the smoke was dissipated, I ventured to look
in again, and there lay the same creature, as I supposed,
stretched, and still in the old position.

I now determined on a second trial to draw it out. I had
forced in—arms, shoulders and head—so far as they would
go, when suddenly the fiery eyes made their appearance
again, so close to mine that they seemed almost to burn
them! I scuffled desperately to extricate my person, for
the idea of a pair of long white claws stuck into my phiz,
was not the most pleasant that could be conceived. I was
just in time; for, as I drew my face out, plump against it
came the heavy crush of soft fur, with a strong body behind
it, and I was prostrated on my back.

I was roused from the stun and fright together, by the loud
guffaws of my companion, who was to» much convulsed with

410 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

laughter to be able to shoot the cat, which we saw going off
through the woods at full speed. On examination, I found
the roots of the great tree had been hollowed far under
and beyond the line of vision, and concluded that the shot
into the hollow had missed aim, as I found the first animal
dead, which I had seen lying from the first. We now called
the dogs, which soon traced the fugitive to another hollow
etree, from which we smoked it down—as is the practice in
taking hares when they are “treed !”—and shot it dead as
it sprang out. We found this to be the dam, while the first
was a cub just grown.

It is a somewhat curious commentary upon the nature of
these animals, that the cub was found to have been so badly
torn by the teeth of the dam as to render its skin useless.
I suppose its falling into the den so suddenly and unusually,
was the cause of this unnatural act on the part of the mother,
who mistook it for some assailant. I have no doubt I should
have been badly mutilated by this creature had the incident
oceurred any where but in this neighborhood, where it had
been thoroughly initiated into the terrors of gunpowder and
the rifle.

The genus Lynx is very celebrated in those classic and
European legends, which, under the name of facts, have
come down to us as Natural History. The metaphor in
which a “ Lynx’s eye” is represented as being able to pierce
through stone walls, is familiar to our childhood. From very
ancient times, it has been known through curious and various
associations. It is a sort of anomaly—neither canine or
feline, strictly, but holding an intermediate position both
in grade and notoriety. Though it has been much identified
with the old world progress and story, yet it is even more
intimately connected with the associations of the new world
pioneer life. With us, north or south, every body has heard
of the Lynz rufus, (or common wild cat,) even though some
may have identified it with the Canada Lynx, and others,

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 411

puzzled by its varied marking and size, may have called it
by sundry names, such as catamount, etc. In truth, even
Naturalists have been sadly perplexed with regard to the
true place of this genus, and we should not wonder that
the common people of all countries should be as well. It
is unquestionably the transition species from the more defined
genera, felis and canis, and consequently, as a sub-genus, its
definitions have become more involved. In the dental arrange-
ment, there is only the slight variation from that of the
felines of one molar less on each side above; for the rest,
they have shorter bodies in proportion to the length of the
legs, and shorter tails. Their resemblance to the genus
canis (to which those of lupus and vulpes are sub-genera,)
seems to be less defined. They approach the dogs, not by
very distinct stages of transition, through both these sub-
genera. They live more like the fox, on the ground, and
approach its associations more in choice of localities and
manner of taking its prey. It resembles the dog in its
fleetness, and more particularly in its acute sense of smcll,
which no doubt gave rise to the legend about its being able
to see through a stone wall—the acuteness of one sense
being vulgarly substituted for that of another. But the true
physical characteristic, which distinguishes this from all the
other genera, is the tuft or pencil of hair which appears,
when they are in full pelage, on the points of their ears.
This is the most prominent character of the genus, which I
have left to be considered last, because it varies so much
with the shedding time and seasons, that it has been the
most fruitful source of confusion in classifying the animal.
At one time it is long, and at another scarcely visible—
hence careless observers have insisted upon a most com-
plicated subdivision of the genus.

Certainly this difficulty has quite naturally been increased,
by the extraordinary variations in markings or color, which
are peculiar to the Lynx rufus ; although the Canada lynx

412 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

is more strictly defined. Rafenesque even confounded it
into fifteen varieties; and when a Naturalist is led into such
errors, it ig not astonishing that the popular judgment should
make mistakes.- Indeed, I myself for a long time held the
opinion, based not only on the varied size, markings, length
of tail and ear-tufts, of the specimens which I had either
killed, or seen others kill, but as well upon a patient survey
of thousands of skins at the fur warehouses-in St. Louis—
that the catamount, or common wild cat, was a cross upon
the oceolet and Canada lynx. The oceolet is a true feline.
Indeed, all these singular variations have had their effect on
me, for I had seen the tail from one inch to four, and the
pelage not alone faintly banded, but mottled, through such
regular transitions, from plain olive brown to distinct mark-
ings, and then to the very peculiar black and unmistakable
rosette, which belongs to the pelage of the oceolet, that I
could not help thinking that the Canada lynx and the oceolet
may have perpetuated a middle species, partaking, as well in
habits as in markings, the characteristics of the two. The
authors of the Quadrupeds of America, however, take a different
view of the subject. They certainly bring up many formidable
instances to show that they are right; and until I have spent
as many years as they have in personal dedication to such
investigations, I shall fully accept their nomenclature. They
remark, in general terms, concerning the “ pelage :”

There are, however, at all seasons of the year, even in
the same neighborhood, strongly marked varieties, and it is
difficult to find two individuals precisely alike.

Some specimens are broadly marked with fulvus under
the throat, whilst in others the throat as well as the chin is
gray. In some, the stripes on the back and spots along
the sides are very distinctly seen, whilst in others they are
scarcely visible, and the animal is grayish-brown above, with
a dark dorsal stripe.

There are six species of lynx known to the old world, and,

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 413

as they suy, only two to North America! I am surely right
with regard to the old world, but whether they are, upon this
knotty point, right as to this, we will leave for future investi-
gation to determine. Be scientific truth on which side of the
controversy it may, the animal itself is a very interesting
one, and intimately associated with the legend and character,
not only of the pioneers, but of the older population of our
wide country, for it is found every where, from the middle
to the extreme southern and southwestern limits of settlement.
The Canada lynx, which is so frequently identified with it,
extends from the mountains of Pennsylvania to the northern
districts of Canada. With regard to the habits of the Lynz
rufus, the authors of the Quadrupeds of America say:

. The general appearance of this species conveys the idea
of a degree of ferocity, which cannot with propriety be con
sidered as belonging to its character, although it will, when
at bay, show its sharp teeth, and with outstretched claws and
infuriated despair, repel the attacks of either man or dog,
sputtering the while and rolling its eyes like the common cat.
It is, however, generally cowardly when attacked, and always
flies from its pursuers if it can; and although some anecdotes
have been related to us of the strength, daring and fierceness
of the animal, such as its having been known to kill, at
different times, a sheep, a full grown doe, attack a child in
the woods, ete., yet in all the instances that have come
under our own notice, we have found it very timid, and
always rather inclined to beat a retreat, than to make an
attack on an animal larger than a hare or young pig.

Dr. Bachman, Associate Editor of the Quadrupeds of
America, describes with some minuteness and reality the most
common mode of hunting the wild cat by daylight, when
undertaken in set fashion by the southern gentry, with all the
appliances of “hound and horn,” etc.; but his chase is wound
up by the shooting of the exhausted animal by some one of
the huntsmen.

414 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS

In a southern foxchase there can be nothing more unortho-
dox than such an expenditure of ammunition, for the hunters
would have been somewhat dangerously furious, and the
hounds themselves ready to tear in pieces the unlucky marks-
man who should have dared to interpose between their heated
ferocity and a legitimate consummation of the chase, in “the
death!” The wild cat injures the dogs, though, so much,
that after losing a few of the most valued leaders of the
pack in the bloody death-struggle with this savagely formi-
dable creature, the huntsmen soon learn to differ from our
friend Dr. Bachman’s opinion concerning its courage, and
become very cautious how they run the risk of having their
dogs overtake it. They easily tell, from the cry of the
hounds, when it is becoming exhausted, and has reached its
short doublings; and, as by this time they have enjoyed the
excitement of a long chase, they can very well afford to listen
to the dictates of prudence in shooting it, as described above.

The dogs used in a night hunt are not the full-blooded
hounds of the chase above. A cross of the fox or stag-hound
upon the fiercer, snapping, wire-haired cur, which seems to
be peculiarly the dog of the negro, makes a far more swift,
though not so long-winded or so sure a hunter; and, from its
strength and activity, is considered a much better fighter
than the aristocratic hound, which is owned solely by the
master. Indeed, the half-breeds of this and various other
crosses are almost exclusively used for the chase and destruc-
tion of the carnivorous animals throughout this country—the
game “‘full-bloods,” which, when heated by their long chases,
habitually rush in, closing instantly with their quarry, when
it has been brought to bay, suffer terribly when it turns out
to be wild cat, panther or bear; and, if permitted to chase
these animals, the pack is soon exterminated by them.

It is curious to observe the instant change in the appear-
ance of all dogs used in the chase, on striking the trail of
any one of these animals, but more especially that of the

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 415

wild cat or panther. The hair “roughs,” as the hunters
term it, that is, stands on end over the back and tail; and
their cry becomes a sort of eager growl. The drivers
understand these signs well, and when beating for deer or
fox they immediately call the dogs off the dangerous scent.

As a hunter, the bay lynx exhibits a good deal of cunning
and sagacity—quite as much, it would appear, as Reynard
himself. Dr. Bachman gives some curious relations upon
this head. One incident, which occurred at the plantation
of Dr. Desel, in South Carolina, is worth giving. It seems
that “the drove of geese were nightly lodged near the
house in an enclosure which was rendered apparently safe
by a very high fence. As an additional security, several
watch dogs were let loose about the premises; besides, an
excellent pack of hounds, which, by an occasional bark or
howl during the night, sounded the alarm in case any
marauder, whether biped or quadruped, approached. Not-
withstanding these precautions, a goose disappeared almost
every night, and no trace of the ingress or egress of the
robber could be discovered. Slow in attaching suspicion to
to his servants, the Doctor waited for time and watchfulness
to solve the mystery. At length, the feathers and other
remains of his geese were discovered in a marsh, about a
quarter of a mile from the house, and strong suspicion was
fastened on the wild cat! Stil, as he came at odd hours
of the night, all attempts to kill or shoot him proved, for a
time, unavailing. One morning, however, he came about
daylight, and having captured a good fat goose, was traced
by the keen noses of the hounds.”

The hounds tracked him up, and he was finally shot; but
his subtle in-goings and out-comings sound to us very like
the German stories of the witch or weir-wolf. It was surely
ticklish walking, though his toes be padded, for the wary.
plunderer amid so many foes. But his astuteness and
dexterity are quite as remarkable in those wild wood forays,

416 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

which the editors of the “‘ Quadrupeds” have had an oppor-
tunity of witnessing. Such examples are confirmed by my
own experience.

When this animal discovers a flock of wild turkeys, he
will generally follow them at a little distance for some time,
and after having ascertained the direction in which they
are proceeding, make a rapid detour, and concealing himself,
behind a fallen tree, or in the lower branches of some leafy
maple, patiently wait in ambush until the birds approach,
when he suddenly springs on one of them, if near enough,
and with one bound secures it. We once, while resting on a
log in the woods, on the banks of the Wabash river, perceived
two wild turkey-cocks at some distance below us, under
the bank near the water, pluming and picking their feathers ;
on a sudden one of them fled across the river, and the other
we saw struggling in the grasp of a wild cat, which almost
instantly dragged it up the bank into the woods and made
off. On another occasion, we observed an individual of this
species almost nine miles from Charleston, in pursuit of a
covey of partridges—(Ortyx Virginiana,)—so intent was
the cat upon its prey, that it passed within ten steps of us,
as it was making a circle to get in advance, and in the path
of the birds; its eyes were constantly fixed on the covey,
and it stealthily concealed itself behind a log it expected
the birds to pass. In a second attempt, the marauder
succeeded in capturing one of the partridges, when the rest,
in great affright, flew and scattered in all directions.

The Canada lynx is something larger than the bay lynx,
and though more formidable-looking, is not so fierce, bold, or
restless. Indeed, it seems to be quite remarkable for a shy
timidity, even when far removed from the neighborhood
of man. It is not mottled as the bay lynx, but is gray
above, a little clouded with irregular dark spots, and lighter
beneath. It is well protected against the cold of its northern
home by its long fur. It is very dexterous in capturing the

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 417

grouse, hares, squirrels, and other small creatures, which
constitute its habitual prey. It has even been represented
as having killed a deer—though I conjecture it must have
been a wounded one. It is true there is less known of its
habits than of those of the southern species; but on the
whole, I am disposed. to regard it as a less enterprising, and
therefore less interesting species.

Indeed, it is by no means through the character of this
gray northern animal, that the wide-spread notoriety of the
wild cat, in connection with border life, has obtained in this
country. It is to the more fierce, predatory, and pugnacious
temperament of its tawny.and mottled brother of. the south,
that the family reputation is mainly owing. The panther,
(or cougar,) with even its greater size and more formidable
attributes, is not more entirely identified with our wildest
legends, scenes, and adventures, than is this bay lynx.

I give, in conclusion, a characteristic paper, in which a
Cougar hunt is described by Mr. Audubon. This, as afford-
ing an additional glimpse of the adventurous out-door life of
the great Naturalist, possesses a greater interest than any
relation of personal adventure I could give, although such
are abundant enough. He says :—

There is an extensive Swamp in the section of the State
of Mississippi which lies partly in the Choctaw territory. It
commences at the borders of the Mississippi, at no great
distance from a Chickasaw village, situated near the mouth
of a creek known by the name of Vanconnah, and partly
inundated by the swellings of several large bayous, the
principal of which, crossing the swamp in its whole extent,
discharges its waters not far from the mouth of the Yazoo
River. This famous bayou is called False River. The
swamp of which I am speaking follows the. windings of the
Yazoo, until the latter branches off to the north-east, and at
this point forms the stream named Cold Water River, below
which the Yazoo receives the draining of another bayou

418 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

inclining towards the north-west, and intersecting that known
by the name of False River, at a short distance from the
place where the latter receives the waters of the Mississippi.
This tedious account of the situation of the Swamp, is given
with the view of pointing it out to all students of nature who
may chance to go that way, and whom I would earnestly
urge to visit its interior, as it abounds in rare and interesting
productions: birds, quadrupeds and reptiles, as well as mol-
luscous animals, many of which, I am persuaded, have never
been described.

In the course of one of my rambles, I-chanced to meet
with a squatter’s cabin on the banks of the Cold Water
River. In the owner of this hut, like most of those adven-
turous settlers in the uncultivated tracts of our frontier
districts, I found a person well versed in the chase, and
acquainted with the habits of some of the larger species of
quadrupeds and birds. As he who is desirous of instruction
ought not to disdain listening to any one, who has knowledge
to communicate, however humble may be his lot, or however
limited his talents, I entered the. squatter’s cabin, and imme-
diately 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 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 accompany me through the great
morass, ‘and allow me to become an inmate of his humble but
hospitable mansion, I was gratified to find that he cordially
assented to all my proposals. So I immediately unstrapped
my drawing materials, laid 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

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 419

with the gentle demeanor of the family. The wife and chil-
dren, 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 occupy
several pages. The husband, a native of Connecticut, 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 asked my kind host what
had induced him to remove to this wild and solitary spot.
“The people are too numerous now to thrive in New Eng-
land,” was his answer. I thought of the state of some parts
of Europe, and calculating the denseness of their population
compared 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 ourselves down on
pallets of bear skins, and reposed in peace on the floor of
the only apartment of which the hut consisted.

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 ravenous animal did not content
himself with the flesh of his pigs, but now and then carried
off one of his calves, notwithstanding 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; ané

420 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to these exploits the squatter added several remarkable feats
of audacity which it had performed, to give me an idea of
the formidable character of the beast. Delighted by his
description, I offered to assist him in destroying the enemy,
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, mount-
ing a horse, he went off to his neighbors, several of whom
lived at a distance of some miles, and appointed a day of
meeting.

The hunters, accordingly, 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 equipped 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 morasses than any in that country. A pack of large
ugly curs were already engaged in making acquaintance
with those of the squatter. He and myself mounted his two
best horses, whilst his sons were bestriding others of inferior
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, sticking close to the squatter, off we went through the
thick woods, guided only by the now and then repeated call
cf the distant huntsmen. We soon reached the spot, and in
4 short time the rest of the party came up. The best dog
was sent forward to track the Cougar, and in a few moments,
the whole pack were observed diligently trailing, and bearing
in their course for the interior of the Swamp. The rifles

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS. 421

were inmediatcly put in trim, and the party followed the
dogs, at separate distances, but in sight of each other, deter-
mined to shoot at no other game than the Panther.

The dogs soon began to mouth, and suddenly quickened
their pace. My companion 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 approached the spot, we all by degrees united into a
body, but on seeing the dogs at the foot of a large tree,
separated again and galloped off to surround it.

Each hunter now moved with caution, holding his gun
ready, and allowing the bridle to dangle on the neck of his
horse, as it advanced slowly towards the dogs. A shot from
one of the party was heard, on which the Cougar was seen
to leap 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
ery. The hunter who had fired came up and said that his
ball had hit the monster, and had probably broken one of his
fore-legs near the shoulder, the only place at which he could
aim. A slight trail of blood was discovered on the ground,
but the curs proceeded 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,

422 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

where in all probability ‘he would remain for a considerable
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,” alone delight you, I must mend
my pen before 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 forward, elated at the thought
of terminating the career of the cougar. Some of the dogs
were heard whining, although 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 headlong to the ground. Attacked on all sides by
the enraged curs, the infuriated Cougar fought with desperate
valor; but the squatter advancing in front of the party, and
almost in the midst of the dogs, shot him immediately behind
and beneath the left shoulder. The Cougar writhed for a
moment in agony, and in another lay dead.

PANTHERS, AND OUR OTHER CATS, 423

The sun was now sinking in the west. Two of the hunters
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 its skin, and its 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. A fire was lighted, and each hunter
displayed his pone of bread, along with a flask of whisky
The deer was skinned in a trice, and slices placed on sticks
before the fire. These materials afforded us an excellent
meal, and as the night grew darker, stories and songs went
round, until my companions, fatigued, laid themselves down,
close under the smoke of the fire, and soon fell asleep.

I walked for some minutes round the camp, to contemplate
the beauties of that nature from which I have certainly
derived my greatest pleasures. I thought of the occurrences
of the day, and glancing my eye around, remarked the
singular effects produced by the phosphorescent qualities
of the large decayed trunks which lay in all directions
around me. How easy, I thought, would it be for the
confused and agitated mind of a person bewildered in a
swamp like this, to imagine in each of these luminous masses
some wondrous and fearful being, the very sight of which
might make the hair stand erect on his hu.d. The thought
of being myself placed in such a predicament burst over my
mind, and I hastened to join my companions, beside whom
I laid me down and slept, assured that no enemy could
approach us without first rousing the dogs, which were
growling in fierce dispute over the remains of the cougar.

At daybreak we left our camp, the squatter bearing on
his shoulder the skin of the late destroyer of his stock, and
retraced our steps until we found our horses, which had not
strayed far from the place where we had left them. These

424 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

we soon saddled, and jogging along, in a direct course,
guided by the sun, congratulating each other on the destruc-
tion of so formidable a neighbor as the panther had been,
we soon arrived at my host’s cabin. The five neighbors
partook of such refreshment as the house could afford, and
dispersing, returned to their homes, leaving me to follow my
favorite pursuits.

CHAPTER XVI.

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE; HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE WOLVES.

Every body remembers the famous escape of Capt. Dan
Henrie at Encarnacion. This reckless and daring Ranger
probakly passed through a greater number of perilous and
singular adventures than any other man of the same age in
the service. Though one of the most light-hearted mortals
that the warm sun ever smiled upon, yet he had a careless
knack of getting into the most desperate scrapes on every
possible occasion, and then, of course, fought his way out
again with the most dashing gallantry.

Mark you, Dan never got into scrapes with his own people;
425

426 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

he was far too kindly and generous for that; but he had a
hatred for the “cussed yaller bellies,” and ‘copper heads,”
as he called the Mexicans and Indians, which was refresh-
ingly orthodox. His hatred of the Mexicans was amusingly
bitter and contemptuous while you listened to him talk of
them; but when this hatred came to be expressed in action,
it was of the most savage and deadly character. At Encar-
nacion, when the little band found themselves surrounded by
the heavy masses of Minon’s cavalry, the proposition, which,
we believe, originated with Cassius M. Clay, was made to
stand to their arms and fight it out with the Mexicans, to
the last gasp, in spite of the disparity of numbers. Lieu-
tenant Dan, who was then their guide, seconded this propo-
sition warmly, and went about among the men, urging them
‘to stand up to the rack,” as he called it, representing that
they could hope for nothing but bad faith, resulting in cold-
blooded massacre, if they surrendered to the Mexicans. He
reminded them of Goliad, and the Meir surrender, and of his
own experience in the last case. After showing, to his own
satisfaction, that the resolution of fighting their way through
was the only possible chance of safety or honorable death left
them, he concluded, with the characteristic piece of savage
advice, “Shoot low, boys—shoot them through their bellies,
so that their groans will frighten their comrades—one groaner
is worth half a dozen dummies!”

His perfect knowledge of the Mexican character, as well
as his mortal hatred of them, was fully displayed in this
advice. Dan knew perfectly that there would be no chance
for him, for he had already been recognized as one of the
Meir men by several Mexicans, whose faces he remembered
well; the surrender, therefore, placed him in a desperate
predicament. He knew, perfectly, that whatever faith they
migit keep with other prisoners, they would keep none with
him, although his safety had been provided for in an express

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIF 427

stipulation of the terms of surrender. I have never seen
the mode of his escape correctly related yet, so that it is
worth while to give it in his own version.

The Mexicans have a mortal hatred of the Meir prisoners,
one and all—but most particularly do they detest those of
them who rose at the Salado and escaped from Perote. Dan
had, unfortunately, not only been prominent in both these
affairs, but from the fact of speaking the language as well
as a native, he had always acted as interpreter, and thus
been put forward more conspicuously than any one of the
other prisoners. Besides this, he had previously made him-
self very notorious, too, as a Ranger. All these causes
combined to make his recognition general and sure at almost
any point on the whole route to Mexico; and if it had not
occurred immediately, there was no telling at what moment
it might occur, and of course, when his body might be made
the target of their cowardly hate.

He saw those men who had recognized him whispering
among themselves, and from his knowledge of the Mexican
character, felt sure that so soon as the commanding officers
had retired and left them in charge of the guard, he would
be shot from the ranks. It fortunately occurred, that when
they were started, Minon and his staff was moving in the
same direction down the lines of the Mexican force. Colonel
Gaines rode a very swift and beautiful mare. Dan rode up
to his side and whispered to him the discoveries he had made,
his fears, and his determination. Gaines at once, with a
generous promptness, proposed that he should take his mare
to make the attempt upon, as her high-blooded metal would
distance any Mexican horse with ease. This was precisely
what Dan desired, and he eagerly accepted the offer. The
officers had not yet been deprived of their pistols, and the
holsters of Gaines remained on the saddle.

The mare was very spirited and fiery, and Dan slily roused
up all her mettle by touching her with the spur. She began

428 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to pitch and plunge, and throw out her heels. This compelled
the escort, or rather guard, which rode on either side of the
prisoners, to open their line occasionally. Dan kept it up
for some minutes, so as to remove all suspicion, and watched
his chance, until he saw the guard were beginning to become
careless, and regard those unruly capers rather with amuse-
ment than otherwise. Then seeing his way open as they
moved slowly through the squadrons of green-coated cavalry,
1e suddenly reined up the mare in the midst of her capri-
solings, and plunging the spurs into her, she darted off like
an arrow loosened from the bow, while he stooped, laying
himself close along her side, after the manner of the
Comanche Indians. A shower of balls was fired hurriedly
after him, but without effect, as they all passed over him.

The plain to the foot of the mountains was very narrow
just here; and he had observed, before he made his break,
that they were opposite a road which came down a narrow
valley. He made for this gap, running the gauntlet between
several squadrons of cavalry, before he reached its shelter.
Just as he was diving into it, he wheeled in his saddle, and
amidst the whistling of balls, shook his clenched hand at
them, and shouted back his defiance. This sudden escape
caused great uproar and confusion among the Mexicans, and
several hundred men started at full speed in the pursuit;
but the gallant mare soon left them all far enough behind,
as she clattered with sparkling hoofs along the deep ravine.
Before the first two miles had been passed, the pursuit was
out of sight in the rear.

The valley road, which he had taken at hap-hazard, without
the slightest idea of where it led, now opened upon a small
plain of table-land, which was occupied by a hacienda of
considerable extent. As he swept by in front of the build-
ings, he saw a number of green-coats hastily mounting, and
in another moment heard the clatter of their pursuing horses
coming down the road. He looked over his shoulder and

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 429

saw that it was probably a foraging party of about ten
lancers. The first agony was over now, and he felt sure
of the game and speed of his mare; and with his usual
audacity, he determined to give the “aller bellies” some-
thing to remember him by before he took his final leave.
He accordingly reined up his mare gradually, and let them
gain upon him. They thought she was failing, and raised
a yell of triumph as they urged their horses to yet greater
exertions.

He looked behind again, and the officer, with one of his
men, was now considerably in the advance, and closing
rapidly upon him. He loosened a pistol from the holster.
The officer was foremost, and was already shouting to him,
with many “Garachoes,” to surrender, when. he wheeled
suddenly in his saddle and shot him dead. The lancer,
who was close behind, and coming on at furious speed,
attempted in vain to rein up his horse. It was too late—
he was carried by the impetus of his speed within ten feet
of Dan, who had by this time drawn his other pistol, with
which he shot him through the head, and then galloped
leisurely along, feeling sure that the remainder of his
pursuers would be stopped effectually by this bloody barri-
cade he had left across their path. He was not. mistaken,
for they halted there, and this was the last he saw of their
green coats.

All that day long he kept the noble beast in swift motion,
since at every little rancho or village he came to, it would
be necessary for the fugitive to make a desperate run for it,
before a pursuit could be organized. The roads were filled,
too, with scouting parties of the enemy, and it required all
his knowledge of their sort of tactics to enable him to dodge
them. ‘He several times very narrowly avoided rushing
headlong into the very midst of these advance parties. The
Mexicans are usually very noisy troops, and he would hear
them talking on the march in time to dodge to one side and

430 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

let them pass, for he had no fancy to try the hacienda trick
over again with empty pistols, since he had nothing to load
them with again. He finally threw them away as so much
“make-weight,” that was useless to him and embarrassing
to his mare.

So he hurried on, not daring to pause a moment to rest or
obtain food, until the next day, when, in a deep, wild gorge
among the mountains, his game and gallant mare fell beneath
him, dead! The ravenous and filthy galapotes, (turkey-
puzzards,) were gouging at her fawn-like eyes before they
were fairly glazed, and before her stiffened and staggering
rider was out of sight. Now came the most terrible part
of this wild and remarkable adventure. He was totally
without food, except what little fruit of the cactus he could
. gather during the day while he was skulking, for he only
ventured to travel at night now. This was scarcely enough
to keep body and soul together; while his clothes soon became
torn to pieces, and hung about his bleeding limbs like broad
and tattered ribbons. He, however, still continued making
his way steadfastly in the direction of General Wool’s camp.
At last, some of his scouts picked the poor fellow up when
almost speechless with thirst and hunger ;—he was yet feebly
reeling along like a ghostly and haggard drunkard.

This affair very properly got him his promotion to a
captaincy. But strange, perilous, and even wonderful as
this escape seems, it is only one of many others quite as
remarkable, by which his most eventful life has been
checkered. In the Texan war with the Cherokees, which
was a very bloody business while it lasted, he passed through
scenes as bad, if not worse than this. Then his adventures
as a Ranger are very remarkable, for of many of these I
am myself personally cognizant; and of his cruel sufferings
and headlong daring during the Meir imprisonment, all the
country has been, to a certain degree, made aware since the
publication of General Green’s book.

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE 431

Dan, who was my comrade in many a curious adventure,
was the same Henrie of my previous narrative of the “Shot
in the Eye.” It is one of the drollest of his many personal
affairs that I propose to relate now. I shall endeavor to
give it as nearly as I can remember, in his own way, as
he related it to me; though I must confess, it will be very
difficult, if not impossible, to preserve the raciness of his
rattle-pate and peculiar manner. It was before he joined
the Meir expedition, and while yet with the Rangers, under
the command of McCullough.

Dan, whose excellence as a guide was well known to the
captain, was despatched by him, along with three others of
the troop, on a scouting expedition, towards the head waters
of the Nueces. This was in the early winter of the year
before the Meir expedition, and the Mexicans were in many
ways annoying and threatening the weak settlements along
that river. This state of things had encouraged the Indians,
as well, to make very bold descents. McCullough had on
his first arrival given them both a severe lesson, upon which
the marauders had taken the hint, and nothing further had
been heard from either party for several months. Unwilling
that his men should lie in camp at such a place as Corpus
Christi, with nothing to do but drink and carouse, the prudent
captain of Rangers had thought best to despatch all the
most restless spirits on tours of observation in various
quarters. Besides, the aspect of affairs in that part of Texas
generally, had begun to seem rather forlorn, and seemed to
eall.for unremitting vigilance.

Dan and his companions had reached the foot of the
mountains in which the western branch of the Nueces takes
rise, without meeting any other sort of incident than those
which are common to prairie travel. Here they formed their
camp, and as they had yet discovered no signs of Indians,
it was concluded that they would take each his own course
the next day, and after traversing as much ground as possible,

432 WILD SCENES AND WILD. HUNTERS.

return to camp and report, and if it should then appear that
no sign had yet been discovered by any of them, it was
agreed they should spend several days in a regular buffalo-
hunting frolic, as these animals seemed to abound greatly in
this region.

Accordingly they were under way quite early, each man
following the bent of his own humor and fancy for the time.

Dan had been travelling in a leisurely sort: of a way until
noon, when he came upon a scene of such remarkable beauty
that he involuntarily stopped to gaze upon it. He had,
without observing it, followed up the west branch of the
Nueces, until he now found himself at its very head-spring.
In front of him a bold and broken mountain stood out
somewhat from the chain, at the foot of which he had been
riding all the morning. The front of this mountain was almost
a square perpendicular, and looked as if it had been cleft
from crest to foot by a bolt of thunder, and hurled from out
the ranks of its peers. The huge masses of stone with which
it seemed built were seamed with a sort of eccentric regularity,
and evergreens were rooted along these seams. As the eye
descended, these masses became more broken, and assumed
a fantastic resemblance to the lines and forms of Gothic
architecture in decay—while from the prairie level sprung
a broken arch, one side of which was perfect in outline, and
the other concealed by the over-hanging masses of evergreen
shrubs. At a distance, this seemed the arched gateway: of
some huge cavern; but when he approached it, he found that
the rock slanted in at just sufficiént angle to give it, at a
distance, the appearance of shadow. Instead of an enormous
cavern, it proved to be only a recess or slanting niche, some
twenty feet deep at the bottom—from the back part of which,
a bold spring burst a little above the level of the prairie,
and rushed down and out from the shadow, rejoicing over
the white sand, until it sparkled in the checkered: sunlight,
beneath the over-hanging evergreens outside—then it coursed

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 433

‘away toward the chain of mountains and wound about their
feet. All off to the left, and beyond this remarkable
mountain, seemed an interminable stretch of rolling prairies,
over which, amidst clumps of cactus, were scattered herds
of deer, mustangs and buffalo, in view at once.

--Dan has not much poetry in him, but he could not help
being both astonished and enchanted by the strange, wild
loveliness of this scene. He slid from his saddle, and stood
leaning ‘against it for only a moment or two of wrapt
-contemplation, when the habitual instinct of watchfulness,
peculiar to the Ranger, caused him to change his position, .
and turn his head. As he did so he perceived one of the
droves of mustangs (wild horses,) moving slowly towards
him. They were a long way off, and there appeared nothing
peculiar about them—but it served to remind him that he
had a short time before seen the unshod tracks of horses and
mules moving at a gallop,—or that, though they might be
‘nothing more than mustangs, yet the simple fact of their
going at a gallop, was in itself suspicious of another fact or
so—either that they were the tracks of Indian horses and
mules, or of mustangs that had been chased or otherwise
frightened by them; so that whatever of enchantment there
may have been’for him in the scene, it now gave place
quickly to caution, and his head turned rapidly from side
to side, with the habitual manner of the old spy.

His eye now and then fell upon the advancing drove, but
not with any consciously defined suspicion. At length they
‘disappeared slowly down a long valley, like the sway of the
prairie undulations, and were out of sight so long that he
had quite forgotten them, when suddenly they appeared
again on this side, moving directly towards him, at a swift
gallop. He bounded into his saddle as quick as thought,
supposing that, may be, one or two Indians who were
mustang-hunting, had lain in wait for this herd, in the deep
grass of that prairie valley, and were now chasing them with

28

434 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the lasso. He urged his horse behind one of the many
clumps of cactus around him, with the intention of laying
in wait to give these dusky wild horse hunters a trial for
their scalps as they went past him.

As he changed his position, the figures which were
approaching became more distinctly defined against the
back-ground of sky, for they were descending towards him!
He saw, what sent his heart into his throat, that each
animal had an Indian slung along its side, by one hand
and foot, holding to either horn of the saddle! This is a
common trick of theirs in approaching an enemy by day-light,
on the prairies; and it is difficult of detection at a distance,
by the most experienced eye, as they ride close together,
and no part of the body is shown above the outline of the
horse.

Dan was off in a twinkling! The tables were very suddenly
turned; for instead of taking a scalp or two himself, as he
had expected, it would now require the best he knew to save
his own. It was well that he could trust his horse, for they
had got so close to him that his escape at all must be a matter
of sheer speed—he must run away from them or be run through
by them. “To be or not to be,” was the question now with
poor Dan, while he desperately urged his: good horse with
quirt and spur. So soon as they saw him start, the rascals
had wheeled up into their saddles again, and yelled their
war-whoop like exulting devils. This was a sound which,
though it came to his ears somewhat softened by the distance,
was by no means calculated to diminish the energy or urgency
of the calls upon the speed of his horse, which were made by
Dan. He glanced furtively over his shoulder and saw that
they were spreading out into the prairie with the intention
of hemming him in against the mountains. He instantly
perceived that his only chance was a desperate run for an
elbow of the chain, which, if he could reach and turn first, he
thought would secure his scalp for the present, as around it

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 435

‘the stream became heavily timbered, and he knew they would
not follow him into it for fear they might come upon his
friends.

It was a tremendous race, for the Indians knew the
advantage as well as he; and Dan vows that his long curly
hair began to straighten and lift his cap on its ends before
he reached the point, they pushed him so close and hard.
By the skin of his teeth he got by before they surrounded
him, and now he says his “hair fell as smooth and sleek as
if a pint of bear’s grease had been poured over it;’’ but not
until he had reached up and taken down his cap off the stiff
ends to wave as he shouted back at them in derisive triumph,
and then darted beneath the shades of the friendly wood.
They left him here as he expected; but as this was most
evidently a dangerous neighborhood, he concluded it would.
be safest not to tarry here but get out of it as fast as possible,
for there was no telling what new whim might take these
fellows when they had spread around on his trail and found
him to be alone! So away he went through the woods for
five or six miles without halting.

The hurry and necessities of his flight had taken him off
his course back to the rendezvous of his companions. He
now first discovered this as he emerged from the timber upon
the prairie again, and found himself far enough away from
the course of the stream. He paused but for a moment, to
collect himself and try and get back the true idea of his
direction. Thinking he had it, he urged his horse into a
swift run again. This was kept up for several hours, until
night began to close around him, and his horse to give
unmistakable indications that he must have rest before he
went much further. He came at last to a small rivulet
trickling along a deep, rough cut, and as he supposed, in the
direction of the west branch of the Nueces. He had passed
the camp far enough, he knew, but this would set him right
if he followed it up when daybreak came. So he selected

436 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

a small piece of meadow ground which was covered with
musquit grass, and well protected from view by the great
clusters of cactus which surrounded it on three sides. There
he stripped his faithful horse and turned him loose to graze,
and then taking for supper a hearty draught of water, threw
himself upon his blanket to sleep.

He had lost his provision wallet in the chase, and it was
more than he dare venture upon to shoot game, for fear of
betraying his hiding-place; and though hungry enough, he
was fain this time “to go to bed supperless.” He thought
of home before sleep came, of course, and wished himself
there most heartily, that he might attack the well-stocked
pantry, the contents of which danced in most tantalizing
visions before him during the whole night. This was too
. much a common predicament, however, to make any very
strong impression upon him otherwise.

He was mounted and off very early the next morning, and
was by no means delighted to perceive that his horse was
considerably gaunted by the yesterday’s hard work and the
somewhat narrow commons of the night. However, he moved
on now with something less of a hurry, as there were no
indications of pursuit apparent. Following the rivulet, he

soon reached the west branch, and turned up this with a
brisker movement, spurred by the cheerful hope of soon
rejoining his companions and finding them safe. In an hour
he was in sight of the ground, and put his horse into a swift
gallop in his eagerness to pass over the interval quickly. On
coming up, he saw, instead of his comrades, the dead body
of an Indian warrior lying across the very ashes of their
camp fire, all gashed and hewn with bowie-knife cuts. All
around the earth was deeply broken up, with the evidences
of a desperate hand to hand struggle. The breech of a
rifle, which he recognized, and a number of arrows, with a
_ broken lance and shield, were scattered around. He felt a
choking sensation and his blood ran cold at this sight.

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 437

His comrades had been surprised, no doubt, by the same
party which had pursued him, but with what result it was
impossible for him to tell certainly, though he had little
choice but to believe and fear the worst. Amid the multitude
of the tracks of unshod horses, he could distinguish the few
tracks of their shod horses. There was no trace of their
bodies in the hasty survey he had time to make, and it
seemed very strange that this dead warrior should be left
behind, so contrary to their well-known custom! He followed
the trail for some time, with great caution, but could make
no discovery, except a great deal of blood on the ground,
until towards noon, when rising the comb of a steep ridge,
he looked down into the plain below upon a large body of
Indians, encamped about a mile distant.

This was a startling sight, and they perceived him at the
same moment. Now he felt he would have indeed to run
for his life. One glance, as he wheeled, was sufficient to
show him warriors mounting the horses of his friends! He
did not dread a race with the horses of the Indians so much,
because his horse was more than a match for the best of
theirs; but the horses of his comrades were as swift, and in
every sense as good as his—now they were to be turned
against him! He cursed the rashness that had induced
him to follow up their trail, but this was no time to pause
for regrets—he was off, down the hill, at the best speed
his horse, already somewhat fagged, could raise. All
depended upon getting back to the timber and losing
them! He could’ hear their pursuing yells, distinctly, for
a moment, and this was no syren’s music to draw him
back! He had a good mile the start, but that was no
great matter, if, as he supposed, their horses were fresher
than his own! He had not time now to feel any alarm,
but only that there was hot work before, and he had it to
attend to! His object was to get out of sight as soon as
possible, for he gained a great deal by compelling them

438 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to run on his trail. He strained his horse tremendously, and
succeeded, for when the sudden burst of their voices came
from time to time, proving that they had reached the comb
of the ridge, he looked back, and could not see it or them.

He felt a little less tight about the heart now, and had
time to think something of his best course. Jt seemed a
forlorn chance for an escape—he was over six miles from
timber. He suddenly remembered that he had observed,
for several days past, a heavy smoke off towards the south,
and looking now in that direction, saw it filling the whole
horizon with gloomy masses, which seemed to be rising but
a few miles off. Observing that it was not very high, it
instantly occurred to him in his extremity, for he felt sure
from the action of his horse, that he would not last much
longer in the hard run before them, that the safest course
for him would be the most desperate, and this was to make
directly for the approaching line of this fire, and take his
chance of being able to force his way through it alive.
With such a barrier between himself and the Indians, he
was safe! Acting upon this stern and strange alternative,
he urged his horse steadily towards the fire. It was not
long before he met the dark advance guard of the smoke,
as it rolled along the grass, and rode beneath its stifling
shelter, the fire being yet a mile off.

He was now securely enough out of sight of the Indians,
and springing from his horse, proceeded to prepare himself
for a trial of the fiery sea. He cut his blanket into pieces,
with one of which he blindfolded his horse; another he tied
in a loose bag about the lower part of its head, enveloping
the mouth and nostrils. He then enveloped his own face
in a loose vizor of the same material. The blanket was
coarse and let in air enough to barely sustain life for a
short time, while it kept out the smoke. He could hear
the yells of his pursuers seemingly close at hand. He was
now in utter darkness, and mounting quickly again, headed

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 439

his horse directly for the fire. On he went, not knowing
where; the reins were tightened, and the lash and spur
applied with the energy of desperation.

Hotter and hotter the air became, but on he careered,
heady and blind. The fire has struck him with a roaring
surge! His hair flames crisply, and the flesh of his body
seems to be burning! The frantic and panting horse
attempts to shy: but no, the fierceness of the agony has
turned that rider’s arm and will to iron!

It cannot shy—the poor horse! On! on! scorching
through the stifling blaze! A few bounds more and the
terrific surges are past! The fresh air has met him! He
tore the envelope from his face and leaped from the stag-
gering horse upon the charred hot ground. The blanket
is torn away from its mouth, and the animal begins to
revive quickly, though it shivers and can scarcely stand
for the mortal terror! He is safe! He has accomplished
an unparalleled feat !

He hears faintly above the crackling and roar of the
retiring flames a howl of triumph from his pursuers, who
imagine they have driven him into the fire, and that he
is burnt, horse and all. He makes a feeble attempt to
answer them defiantly, but can scarcely hear his own voice.
Stunned, and gasping to recover the use of their almost
stifled lungs, he and his horse stand, side by side, upon
that blackened plain, without moving a step for more than
an hour.

But the perils of the day were by no means passed.
Before him, as far as the eye could reach, there was only
one charred, level, smouldering waste, which had to be
crossed before he could reach water, for which both himself
and horse were now almost perishing. He started on at
last, taking his course at random, for one seemed to his
bewildered sense about as good as another. He did not
ride at first, but mercifully led his poor horse, until tke

440 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

heat of the ground and the still smouldering stubs of grass
became insufferable to his feet, and then he turned to mount.
He now, for the first time, looked at the animal carefully,
and to his horror, saw that nearly every hair upon its body
was gone, and little but the bare skin left, and that was
so badly scorched in places, as to come off at the slightest
touch.

This was dreadful enough, but—water! water! water! he
must have that, or they would both die. He sprang into
the saddle and urged the wretched creature along with the
last energies of his sinking life. In an hour he had begun
to grow dizzy, and the blgckened earth swam round and
round, and tossed him to and fro! Now a strange noise
was about him; and as the lifting waves of the earth would
almost seem to leap up into his face, he would catch glimpses
of huge wolves careering on them, turning up their fiery
eyes to his, and howling at him with red hot open mouths
and lolling tongues! Suddenly his horse rushed down a
steep bank, and there was a great splashing. Water!
Blessed God, water! He tumbled from his saddle into
the cold delicious fluid.

In an instant his senses had returned, and he saw himself
surrounded by thirty or forty prairie wolves, some of whom
were swimming in the water after him, while the others sat
upon the bank of the small lake, and howled their gathering
cry. He struck those which were nearest with his gun barrel
and beat them off, while he had time to draw his heavy knife.
One of them had seized his passive horse, who, while it was
endeavoring to pull him down, stood still and drank—the
long eager draughts. He split the wolf’s head with his
knife, and soon sent the rest back out of the water, yelling
with their wounds. But those upon the bank only howled
the 1ouder, and they were answered near at hand and from
ufar by hundreds of others, who were swiftly gathering in
at the well-known call to a banquet. =

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 441

He now remembered that these weird and infernal brutes
always collect in large numbers, to follow in the wake of a
great prairie fire, and tear the carcasses of those animals
that are killed; or band together, to chase and drag, down
those that come through alive, but scorched, blinded and
staggering, as was his poor horse. They become very
savage with blood, impunity and numbers, and very. few
creatures which have escaped from the hungry flames can
escape from, their yet: more ravenous jaws. The creature,
at other times, is utterly contemptible for its cowardice;
but he shuddered when he called to mind the dreadful
stories ‘he had heard: of its deadly fierceness on such occa-
sions as this.

“My God!” he moaned aloud: ‘ Wasn’t it bad enough
for me to ‘pass that hell of flames back yonder! and have
I only escaped that to meet a fate a thousand times more
hideous ?” «

He looked at his horse; the animal was now, too, partially
refreshed, and began to be conscious of the new danger as it
gazed around with staring eyeballs upon the eager and swiftly
gathering crowd that howled along the bank. He snorted
in affright, and lifted his head with a wildly mournful
neigh, that seemed to poor Dan the most piteous sound
that ever rung upon his ear before. There was some com-
fort though, the horse had life enough in him to make one
more run for safety.

He mounted, and after having fired his rifle, with deliberate
aim, into the thickest of them, charged right through at full
speed. They leaped at his feet and attempted to seize his
horse’s legs, but the animal was too mortally frightened for
them to impede his way for an instant. Through he trampled,
and away across the prairie he flies, snorting with terror, and
moving with as great speed as if perfectly fresh; and away,
too, in pursuit, swept the yelling herd of wolves. There were
more than a hundred now, and seemed increasing in numbers

442 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

at every jump; for as Dan glanced his frightened eyes around,
he would see them straitened out with speed and their mouths
wide open, coming to join the terrible route from every direc-
tion over the prairie. He looks behind him—they were close
upon his heels. The great part of them, particularly those in
front, and who seemed most fierce and ravenous, were scorched
nearly naked; and with the white foam flying, their long red
tongues, their fiery glaring eyes, they presented the most
hideous picture of unearthly terror that ever mortal lived,
to be chased by unless by the horrible phantgsmagoria of
madness !

He fired his pistols back at them, but it made no difference ;
they only yelled the louder, and came on the more fiercely,
while five joined their long train for each one that he had
killed. If his horse should fall or give out, they would both
be torn to fragments in an instant! This appalling convic-
tion caused him to give all of eye and nerve that were left
him in the mortal fright to steadying and guiding his horse,
for the only hope now lay in him. He soon perceived,
however, that he was leaving the pack far behind, for there
is little comparison between the speed of a horse and that
of the prairie wolf.

He now began to feel something of hope; and as the
frantic speed of his horse placed yet a greater distance
between them, the unimaginable dread seemed to be lifting
from his life. Now he could not hear their yells, and could
barely distinguish, far in the rear, the long snake-like train
yet moving on in the relentless chase, over the undula-
tions of the bare plain. He sees timber ahead, and shouts
in an ecstacy of joyful relief, for then he himself at least
is safe! He can climb a tree—and in the delight of that
thought, he has no time for thinking that his poor horse
cannot climb trees!

The horse sees, and is inspirited, too—for to all creatures
on the prairies there seems to be a vague feeling of safety

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 443

in the sight of woods. But, alas, poor horse! They have
reached the timber, but scarcely a hundred rods have been
passed over, when the faithful creature gives out; and after
a few ineffectual efforts still to obey the urging spur, can only
lean against the trunk of a tree, and pant and groan with
exhaustion. Dan ascends the tree, tying the lariat of his
horse to one of the lower limbs. He then loaded his arms
in the forlorn hope of defending him if they came up. All
was still as death, but the loud panting of the exhausted
animal. He ascended higher to look out for the approach
of the wolves, for he had a faint hope that they had given
up the chase. But, alas! his heart sinks again. There they
come, the long yellowish looking train: and several large
white wolves have joined them now. He knows well the
tameless and pitiless ferocity of tnese red-eyed monsters,
and feels that his true, his noble horse, must go!

Now he can hear their cry! They are in the woods.
The poor horse shivers—looks back, and utters that wild
and wailing neigh, as they rush upon him in a body. Dan
fires down among them; but what avail is it! In a twink-
ling, his gallant beast is down, and has been torn to atoms!
The halter of the lariat hangs empty beside the tree.

Now they lie panting around the foot of the tree, with
their fiery eyes turned wistfully up at him—for the horse
had been only a mouthful a piece. Whenever he makes a
movement, they rise with eager yells, and leap up towards
him, as if to meet his fall. Dan says, that in the utter
and dreadfully hopeless desperation of his position now, a
grotesque sort of humor possessed him of a sudden, and
he commenced deliberately firing down at the red glaring
eyeballs of the white wolves, and would roar with laughter,
and fairly dance upon his ticklish perch with glee, when he
saw the creature tumble over with a shrill death-cry; and
then the whole pack rush on it and tear it into shreds in an
instant, with gnashing cries.

444 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

He says he amused himself in this way for an hour, and
‘made them tear to pieces every white wolf that had joined
the chase. This sport delighted him so much, that he
became careless, and narrowly escaped falling. -He only
saved himself by dropping. his gun, which they seized, and
almost tore its stock. to pieces before they discovered it
was not eatable. I saw the dents of their teeth in the
barrel afterwards. Darkness was coming on, and they
seemed not in the least disposed to go; and he felt that
he must tumble out from the faintness of hunger and
fatigue, if he was compelled to spend another hour in that
tree without food. He had become entirely reckless now,
and loaded up his pistols, determined, if he must fall, to
bring death with him for some more of them.

Suddenly he heard a distant yelling on the prairie, like
that which had sounded so dreadfully behind his flight.
The wolves sprung to their feet in a body, and with pricked
ears, listened. He looked out towards the prairie, and could
faintly discover a large buffalo bull plunging along over the
plain, surrounded by a great herd of wolves, who were
tearing him at every jump. He could even hear the low
bellowing of the creature’s agony. Another victim! and his
thirsty guardians started to join the chase. One after another
they went; while those who staid behind would turn their
heads to look back wistfully at him, and whine and lick
their dry chaps. When the chase come in sight though,
off they started in a body with savage yells. He fired his
pistols after them in farewell, and killed one of the hindmost,
while another, with a broken shoulder, kept on yelling with
the pack.

He knew he would be safe now if he could get a fire
kindled before they returned, if they did so at all. Before
they were out of sight, he had reached the ground, and
with trembling eagerness proceeded to light a fire with the
help of his flint and steel, which every Ranger carries. He

CAPTAIN DAN HENRIE. 445

soon had a great fire blazing, and then cutting a piece from
the last wolf he had: killed, proceeded to-roast it for food.
When he had eaten, he felt.so much refreshed that he could
now proceed to make provision for the night’s rest. He
gathered a igreat deal of dried wood, and built a large fire
in a circle about the spot he had selected to Heep upon.
The wolves came back in about an hour after he had finished
his arrangements for the night; but he now felt perfectly
secure, for though he could see their hungry eyes shining
all round the outside of the*circle; and they kept up a
continued howling all night long, he. laid himself down and
slept soundly until morning.

When he waked up, the-wolves were all gone but one or
two, craunching at the bones of yesterday’s feast. He shot
one of them with his pistol, and made a breakfast off of it
He picked up the gun, and found that though very much
torn, it could still be. used. He now took his course, and
started to foot it into the settlements. After a week of
almost incredible suffering, he got in safe, and saw nothing
more of the wolves or of his comrades, who are thought to
have been carried off prisoners, and afterwards murdered
by the Indians on their attempting to escape.

Dan was sick of a fever for several weeks at Corpus Christi
after he got in, and raved incessantly about wolves.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE DARKIE FIDDLER AND TOD *.OLVL-.

Poor Dan Henrie’s adventure with the wolves has reminded
me of one or two other incidents sufficiently characteristic of
the habits of that remarkable animal to be worthy of relation
here, by way of interlude.

The wolf, besides being the most ubiquitous of our
predatory animals, is the most active, tenacious and difficult
of extirpation. It is everywhere. It fills-in the chinks of
desolation. Its savage, grinning head peers through all the
broken glooms of our stern wildernesses—a ghoul-like presence
—hideous, gaunt and fierce! It knows no sympathies, and

446

THE DARKIE FIDDLER. 447

we give it none. Yet there is one droll incident with which
my boyhood was familiar, which seems to indicate a certain
susceptibility to the softer emotions—or more refized senses
—at least.

In the early days of the settlement of South Kentucky,
there was great trouble with the wolves. The large gray
wolf of the more wooded northern and middle districts, greatly
abounded in the heavy forests of the Green River Bottom,
particularly in th. neighborhood of Henderson, which is
situated on the Ohio, not far below the mouth of Green
River. The barn-yard suffered to a great extent, in the way
of pigs, calves, etc., from their depredations, which frequently,
in mid-winter, were even carried to the audacious extreme
of attacking human beings. Indeed, it was no unusual thing
for the belated footman, at such times, when they were
pressed by hunger, to find himself surrounded by a herd of
them in the woods. Some striking stories of hair-breadth
escapes and desperate ventures, belong to this period and
condition of things. No one of them ever made a stronger
impression upon me than the adventure of old Dick, the
fiddler.

He was “a good old good-for-nothing darkie,” as the word
went in the neighborhood, whose sole merit consisted in his
fiddling—but, by the way !—singular as this merit was,—it
in reality constituted him by far the most important “ gemmen
of color” within forty miles around. The fact is, nothing
of any interest could occur without his presence! It was
as important—skinny as it was!—as the very face of the
man in the moon,—beneath whose auspices the corn-shockings,
the weddings, the “break-downs” and Juba dances of the
neighborhood were enacted.

Old Dick, who was the property of one of the Hendersons,
from whom the town and county take their names, was
esteemed by his good-natured and wealthy master as decidedly

448 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

a privileged character. He had his time pretty much to
himself, and no one pretended to interfere with its disposal,
as his master humorously styled him a “necessary nuisance”
to the neighborhood, because he kept the darkies in a good
humor by his fiddle. Now Dick had most strongly developed
the stropgest and most marked traits of the fiddler, the world
over, namely, punctiliousness and punctuality. Upon either
of these points he was peculiarly irritable, nay even ferocious.
With all the proverbial timidity of the “child of genius,”
Old Dick was yet as savage as a hyena at any improprieties
of etiquette which might chance to turn up during the sable
orgies over which he presided; but nothing caused him to
so far forget ‘the proprieties’’ in his own person, as the
intervention of any unusual or accidental causes of delay
which prevented his being on hand in time! Poor Dick !—
but the story I have to tell of him will explain !

On the occasion of a grand wedding festival among the
colored gentry of a neighboring plantation, some six miles
distant, Old Dick was, of course, expected to officiate as
master of the ceremonies. It had been an unusually severe
winter, and a heavy snow lay upon the ground on the event-
ful evening, when, having donned his “long-tailed blue,”
with its glittering gilt buttons, and mounted the immense
shirt collar, by the aid of which the dignity of his official
character was properly maintained, the ancient Apollo
sallied forth, fiddle in hand, to dare the perils of the distant
way alone: for the younger darkies had all gone to the frolic
hours ago, with a haste and eagerness altogther keene
his importance.

The moon was.out, and the stars twinkled merrily over
head, as the spry old man trudged away over the crisp and
crackling snow. The path, which was a very narrow one,
led, for the greater part of the way, through the dark shadows
of a heavy bottom forest, which yet remained as wild as

THE DARKIE FIDDLER. 449

when the Indians roamed it, and was untraversed by a wagon
road for many miles.

The profound and dreary solitude of the way could not
have failed to impress any one who was not either more or
less than human, except under conditions of entire pre-occupa-
tion in one absorbing thought, such as now held absolutely
the body and soul of the old man, in the strained tension
of an anxious hurry to reach the seat of: operations, in exact
time. He was goaded at every step by the maddening vision.
of the expectant ranks of sable gentility, rolling the whites
of their eyes and stamping their stocking feet upon the
puncheon floor, impatient of his delay; for the truth was,
that he had lingered a little too long over the polishing of
those brass buttons and the setting of that plentitude of
collar, and he now first became conscious of it as he had
come forth beneath the moon and perceived its unexpected
height above the horizon.

On he dashed with unrelaxing energy, heedless of the
black shadows and hideous night-cries in the deep forest.
Wolves were howling around him in every direction, but he
paid no attention to sounds that were so common. However,
he was soon compelled to give more heed to these animals
than was by any means pleasing or expected. He had now
made nearly half of his journey, and the light opening ahead
through the trees showed him the “old clearing,” as it was
called, through which his path led. The wolves had been
getting excessively noisy for the last mile; and to the
undescribable horror of the old man, he could hear them.
gathering about him in the crackling bushes on either side,
as they ran along to keep pace with his rapid steps. The
woods very soon seemed to the old man to be literally alive
with them, as they gathered in yelling packs from far and
near.

Wolves are cautious about attacking 2 human being at

29

450 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

once, but usually require some little time to work themselves
up to the point. That such was the case, now proved most
lucky for poor old Dick, who began to realize the horrible
danger, as a dark object would brush past his legs every
few moments, with a snapping sound like the ring of a steel
trap; while the yells and patter of the gathering wolves
increased with terrible rapidity. Dick knew enough of the
habits of the animal to be fully aware that to run would
insure his instant death, as the cowardly pack would be sure
to set upon him in a body on the instant of observing any
such indication of fear. His only chance was to keep them
at bay by preserving the utmost steadiness until he could
1cach the open ground before him, when he hoped they
uight leave him, as they do not like to attack in the open
rround. He remembered, too, that an old hut still stood
in the middle of the clearing, and the thought that he might
reach that haven gave him some comfort.

The wolves were becoming more audacious every minute,
und the poor old soul could see their green eyes glaring
fiery death upon him from all the thickets around. They
rushed at him more boldly one after another, snapping as
they went past in closer and closer proximity to his thin
legs—indeed, the frightened fiddler instinctively thrust at
them with his fiddle to turn them aside. In doing so the
strings were jarred, and the despairing wretch took on some
hope to his shivering soul, when he observed the sudden-
ness of the sound caused the wolves to leap aside with
surprise. He instantly drew his hand across the strings
with vehemence, and to his infinite relief they sprang back
and aside as if he had shot amongst them. Taking imme-
diate advantage of this lucky diversion in his favor, as he
had now reached the edge of the clearing, he made a break
for the hut, raking his hand across the fiddle strings at every
jump, until they fairly roared again. The astonished wolves

THE DARKIE FIDDLER. 451

paused for a moment on the edge of the clearing with tails
between their legs, looking after him; but the sight of his
flying form renewed at once their savage instincts, and with
a loud burst of yells, they pursued him at full speed. Alas
for the unlucky fiddler, had he been caught now, it would
have been all up with him, even had his fiddle continued to
shriek more unearthly shrieks than that of Paganini ever
gave forth. He had broken the spell by running, for had
they caught him now, they would never have paused to
listen, had he been an Orpheus in reality.

Luckily the old man reached the hut just as they were at
his heels, and slamming the rickety door behind him, he had
time to climb out on to the roof, where he was comparativoly
out of danger. I say comparatively, for the perch he now
occupied, was too rickety to make it any thing rather than
desirable, except by contrast with the immediate condition
from which he had escaped.

The wolves were now furious, and thronging the intcrior
of the hut, leaped up at him with wild yells of gnashing
rage. The poor old sinner was horribly frightened, and
it required the utmost activity of motion to keep his legs
from being snapped by them. Wild with the agonized
terror as he was, pgor old Dick had managed to cling to his
fiddle through it all, and remembering that it had saved him
in the woods, he now, with the sheer energy of desperation,
drew his bow shrieking across the strings, with a sound that
rose high above all their deafening yells, while, with his feet
kicking out into the air, he endeavored to avoid their steel-like
fangs. An instant silence followed this sudden outburst, and
Dick continued to produce such frightful spasms of sound as
his hysterical condition conceived.

This outbreak kept the wolves quiet for 2 moment or two,
but old Dick soon learned to his increased horror that even
wolves are too fastidious to stand bad fiddling, for they com-

452 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

menced a renewal of the attack, as soon as the first surprise
was over, more furiously than ever. This was too much for
the poor fiddler, and most-especially when the head of a great
wolf was thrust up between the boards of the roof, within a
few inches of where he sat. He gave himself up now for a
gone darkie, and with the horrified exclamation—

“Bress God !—who dar ?”

He fell to fiddling Yankee Doodle with all his might, uncon-
sciously, as the dying swan is said to sing its own requiem in
its closing moments. With the first notes of the air silence
-commenced ; Orpheus had conquered! the brutes owned the
« “uing spell, and the terror-stricken fiddler, when he came
t. himself—astonished at the sudden cessation of hostilities—
saw he was surrounded by the most attentive and certainly
appreciative audience he had ever played before—for the
moment there was the slightest cessation ‘of the music, every
listener sprang forward to renew the battle, and set his pipe-
stem legs to flying about in the-air again. »

_But he had now learned the spell, and so long as he
continued to play with tolerable correctness, was compara<
tively safe. The old fiddler soon forgot his terror now in
professional pride, for he was decidedly flattered by such
intense appreciation; and entering fully into the spirit of
the thing, played with a gusto and effect such as he thought
he had never before surpassed or even equalled. Even the
wedding, with its warm lights, its sweetened whiskey, was
forgotten for the time in the glow of this new professional
triumph.

But all pleasures have their draw-backs on this earth; and
as time progressed, he began, with all his enthusiasm, to feel
very natural symptoms of cold, fatigue, and even exhaustion.
But it would not do—he could not stop 2 moment before they
were at him again—and there they persistently sat, that
shaggy troop of connoisseurs, fidgeting on their haunches,

THE DARKIE FIDDLER. 453

with lolling tongues and pricked ears, listening to their com-
pulsory charmer, for several weary hours, until the negroes
at the wedding, becoming impatient or alarmed about the old
man, came out.to look for him, and found him thus perched
upon the roof of the tottering hut, sawing away for dear life,
while-he was ready to drop every instant from sheer fatigue
and the freezing cold. _They rescued the old man from his
comfortless position, while the lingering forms of his late
audience .told that they most: unwillingly surrendered tha
:. fruition of their unwonted feast.

CHAPTER XVIII.

SKATER CHASED BY WOLVES.

Evrryzopy has read the remarkable adventure with the
wolves on the ice, related by Mr. Whitehead. The story has
made so strong an impression upon me, that I cannot resiss
the temptation of preserving it here, along with the previous
narrative, as incidental to our “ Wild Scenes,” entirely legiti-
mate here. I present it with an illustration, as one of th
most effective stories ever given about wolves.. i

During the winter of 1844, being engaged in the northern
part of Maine, I had much leisure to devote to the wild sports
of a new country. To none of these was I more passionatel7

454

SKATER CHASED BY WOLVES. 455

addicted than to skating. The deep and sequestered lakes
of this State, frozen by the intense cold of a northern winter,
present a wide field to the lovers of this pastime. Often
would I bind on my skates, and glide away up the glittering
river and wind each mazy streamlet that flowed beneath its
feticrs on toward the parent ocean, forgetting all the while
time and distance in the luxurious sense of the gliding motion
—thinking of nothing in the easy flight, but rather dreaming,
as I looked through the transparent ice at the long weeds
and cresses that nodded in the current beneath, and seemed
wrestling with the wave to let them go; or I would follow
the track of some fox or otter, and run ‘my skate along the
mark he had left with his dragging tail until the trail would
enter the woods. Sometimes these excursions were made by
moonlight ; and it was on one of these occasions that I had a
rencontre which even now, with kind faces around me, I
cannot recall without a nervous looking-over-my-shoulder
feeling.

I had left my friend’s house one evening just before dusk,
with the intention of skating a short distance up the noble
Kennebec, which glided directly before the door. The night
was beautifully clear. A peerless moon rode through an
occasional fleecy cloud, and stars twinkled from the sky and
from every frost-covered tree in millions. Your mind would
‘wonder at’ the light that came glinting from ice, and snow-
’ wreath, and incrusted branches, as the eye followed for miles
the broad gleam of the Kennebec, that like a jeweled zone
swept between the mighty forests on its banks. And yet all
was still. The cold seemed to have frozen tree, and air, and
water, and every living thing that moved. Even the ringing
of my skates echoed back from the Moccasin Hill with a
startling clearness, and the crackle of the ice as I passed
over it in my course seemed to follow the tide of the river
with lightning speed.

I had gone up the river nearly two miles, when coming to

456 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

a little stream which empties into the larger, I turned into it
to explore its course. Fir and hemlock of a century’s growth
met overhead, and formed an archway radiant with frost-
work, All was dark within; but I was young and fearless,
and, as I peered into an unbroken forest, that reared itself
on the borders of the stream, I laughed with very joyous-
ness; my wild hurrah rang through the silent woods, and I
stood listening to the echo that reverberated again and again,
until all was hushed. Suddenly a sound arose—it seemed to
me to come from beneath the ice; it sounded low and tremu-
lous at first, until it ended in one wild yell. I was appalled.
Never before had such a noise met my ears. I thought it
more than mortal; so fierce, and amidst such an unbroken
solitude, it seemed as though a fiend had blown a blast from
an infernal trumpet. Presently I heard the twigs on shore
crack as though from the tread of some brute animal, and
the blood rushed back to my forehead with a bound that
made my skin burn, and I felt relieved that I had to contend
with things earthly, and not of spiritual nature—my energies
returned, and I looked around me for some means of escape.
.. The moon shone through the opening at the mouth of the
creek by which I had entered the forest, and considering this
the best means of escape, I darted towards it like an arrow.
"Twas hardly a hundred yards distant, and the swallow could
scarcely excel my desperate flight ; yet, as I turned my head
to the shore, I could see two dark objects dashing through
the underbrush at a pace nearly double in speed to my own.
By this great speed, and the short yells which they
occasionally gave, I knew at: once that. these were the much
dreaded gray wolves.

I had never met with these animals, but from the. aoa
tion given of them, I had but little pleasure in making their
acquaintance. Their untameable fierceness, and the untiring
strength which seems part of their nature, render them
objects of dread to every benighted traveller.

SKATER CHASED BY WOLVES. 457

. With their long gallop, which can tite
The deer-hound’s hate, the hunter’s ire,”

they pursue their prey—never straying from the track of
their victim—and as the wearied hunter thinks that he has
at last outstripped them, he finds -that.they but waited for
the evening to. seize’ their prey, and falls.a prize to the tireless
animals.
The bushes ‘that skirted the shore flew past with the
velocity of lightning, as I dashed on in my flight to pass
the narrow opening. The outlet was nearly gained; one
second more and I would be comparatively safe, when my
pursuers appeared on the bank above me, which here rose
to the height of ten feet. There was no time for thought, so
I bent my head and dashed madly forward. The wolves
‘sprang, but miscalculating my speed, fell behind, while their
intended prey glided out upon the river.
-Nature turned me towards home. The light flakes of
snow spun from the iron of my skates, and I was some
distance from my pursuers, when their fierce howl told me
I was still their fugitive. I did not look back, I did not
feel afraid, or sorry, or glad; one thought of home, of the
bright faces awaiting my return, and of their tears if they
never should see me, and then every energy of body and
mind were exerted for escape, Iwas perfectly at home on
the ice. Many were the days that I spent on my good
skates, never thinking that at one time they. would be my
only means of safety. Every half minute an alternate yelp
from ‘my fierce attendants made me but too certain that they
were in close pursuit. Nearer and nearer they came; I
heard their feet pattering on the ice nearer still, until I
could feel their breath and hear their snuffing scent. Every
nerve and muscle in my frame was stretched to the utmost
tension.

The trees along the shore seemed to dance in an unce;tain
light, and my brain turned with my own breathless speed,

458 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

vet still they seemed to hiss forth their breath with a sound
truly horrible, when an involuntary motion on my part,
turned me out of my course. The wolves, close behind,
unable to stop, and as unable to turn on the smooth ice,
slipped and fell, still going on far ahead; their tongues were
lolling out, their white tusks glaring from their bloody
. mouths, their dark, shaggy breasts were fleeced with foam,
and as they passed me, their eyes glared, and they howled
with fury. The thought flashed on my mind, that by this
means J could avoid them, viz: by turning aside whenever
they came too near; for they, by the formation of their feet,
are unable to run on ice except in a straight line.

I immediately acted upon this plan. The wolves, having
regained their feet, sprang directly towards me. The race
was renewed for twenty yards up the stream; they were
already close on my back, when I glided round and dashed
directly past my pursuers. A fierce yell greeted my evoln-
tion, and the wolves, slipping upon their haunches, sailed
onward, presenting a perfect picture of helplessness and
baffled rage. Thus I gained nearly a hundred yards at
each turning. This was repeated two or three times, every
moment the animals getting more excited and baflled.

At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my sangui-
nary antagonists came so near that they threw the white
foam over my dress as they sprang to seize me, and their
teeth clashed together like the spring of a fox-trap. Had
my skates failed for one instant, had I tripped on a stick,
or caught my foot in a fissure of the ice, the story I am now
telling would never have been told.

1 thought all the chances over; I knew where they would
first take hold of me if I fell; I thought how long it would
be before FE died, and then there would be a search for the
body that would already have its tomb; for oh! how fast
man’s mind traces out all the dread colors of death’s picture,
only those who have been near the grim original can tell.

SKATER CHASED BY WOLVES. 459

_ But I soon came opposite the house, and my hounds—I
knew their deep voices—roused by the noise, bayed furiously
from the kennels. I heard their chains rattle: how I wished
they would break them! and then I should have protectors
that would be peers to the fiercest denizens of the forest.
The wolves taking the hint conveyed by the dogs, stopped
in their mad career, and after a moment’s consideration,
turned and fled. I watched them until their forms disappeared
over a neighboring hill, then taking off my skates, wended
ny way to the house, with. feelings which may be better
imagined than described. But even yet I never see a broad
sheet of ice in the moon-shine, without thinking of that
snullng breath and those fearful things that followed me so
c\.sly down the frozen Kennebec.

te

CHAPTER XIX.
THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE.

*¢Round-hoof’d, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head and nostrils wide,
High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong,
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide—
Look what a horse should have!”

“Loox what a horse should have!’’ Willie of Avon being
judge! and acknowledge, gentle sportsman, that the wild,
rattling, poacher scamp had as sharp an eye for the parts
of the noble animal on four legs, as he exhibited in his
epiritual anatomy of. the animal on two. Can any of you
‘seat that with all your modern breeding, in and out, crossings
and improvements? Can even the Napoleon of the turf
Limself suggest an addition or subtraction to or from this
masterly summary of what the “ horse’ should be ?—not
the draught-horse, the race-horse, the saddle-horse, the hunt-
ing-horse, the trotter or the pacer!—but the nonpareil,—
uniting in himself the nearest approach to the perfection of
all these!

“But,” says the gent., “deuce take it! where are you
gcing to find such a horse, now you've got him described?
li’s like shaking a basket of spring strawberries under the
nose of a convalescing man, and then pleading the doctor
on him, to tantalize us by dilating upon Shakspeare’s ideal,
when such an animal has long since been crossed and trained
out of being!”

Very true, sir! very true! “ The horse,” with his exube-
rance of power and unity of splendid traits, is ruled down

460

THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE. 461

now into “strains” of a single characteristic,—his parts and
paces determined with mathematical certainty before he is
foaled. Though there is a great deal gained in convenience
by this, there is more lost in the general excellence and
nobility of the animal. We need to recur again occasionally
to the primeval horse to throw a dash of freedom into the
hard lines of our too strictly ruled strains; to find this, we
shall probably always go back to the Arab on his yellow
sands. While I admit this to be the true mine of the
“porcelain earth” for the horse manufacture, I am astonished
that our American breeders have paid so little attention to
a “chip of the same grit” we have nearer home. I refer
to the mustang, or wild horse of our great prairies.

A very common and natural misapprehension exists with
regard to the value of the mustang, from the fact that it is
only the inferior animals of a drove that are taken, as a
general thing; and again, that the hunters always keep the
finest themselves, and send in the trifling ones to trade off
to the settlements; and it is only such as these we ever get
a sight off, unless we make a trip to the Rocky Mountains
or California in person! But it is a great mistake to suppose
that all mustangs are like the long-headed, donkey-tempered,
spindle-shanked, dwarfish creatures we see occasionally in
the country.

It would be just as wise to judge the stock in our racing
stables by some pot-bellied, shag-haired, scrub colt we might
chance to stumble upon, picking the short grass along with
the pigs in a country lane, as to form an opinion of the wild
horse as he is, fetterless and proud, upon his boundless
plains, from these miserable specimens. You must recollect
that the best are not to be taken every day; that their
liabiity to capture is exactly proportionate to their want
of speed, under the most usual method of securing them with
ths lasso! For this to be done, you are aware he has to
-be fairly run upon by the hunter, with a start of mile or

462 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS

two, sometimes; and the animal overtaken with such odds
must be immensely inferior to the one in pursuit!

So far is the fact of this inferiority from being found to
exist in the case of the finest of them, that I have known
instances of mustangs being chased for three or four days
together, all the time, night and day, with fresh horses put
in every four or five hours, and yet without any sensible
flagging of their speed; without their having been sufficiently
pushed to prevent them from stopping occasionally to graze
and drink. Their great powers of endurance will not be
particularly wondered at, when you remember the history
of their origin.

It will be recollected that the adventurers, who, lured by
the golden romance the stories of the earliest navigators had
thrown over the New World, had been induced to attach
themselves to the expedition of Cortez, were cavaliers, the
dissolute and spendthrift sons of the noble families of Spain,
who expecting to retrieve their desperate fortunes by the
realization of enormous wealth, strained the credit of their
friends to the last pitch that they might equip themselves
with a splendor worthy of their rank, and the glory of such
an enterprise.

Those were the palmy days of Spanish power, and her
nobility could command the choicest resources of the Old
World; and haughty and luxurious as they were, of course
nothing short of the purest and far-descended blood of
Barbary and the Deserts could prance beneath their purple
housings. Steeds, whose descent, could we believe the quaint
old chroniclers of the time, might be traced, without a spot
or blemish, back to the veritable pair who shook the big
drops of the Flood from their manes, and breasted its devour-
ing waves successfully, were the companions of the mad-cap
coxcombs on their perilous voyage.

You will remember their appearance on horseback alarmed
the simple natives more than even their pale faces and

THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE. 463

thunder. They considered horse and rider as one animal,—
like the Centaur of the Greek, a supernatural one,—and
sent them human victims for food, to propitiate their wrath.
These facts all prove that there was not even a tradition of
the existence of such an animal on our hemisphere at that:
time.

It will be recollected, finally, that led on by a remorseless
avarice, which even the palace halls of the Montezuma, heaped
to the ceiling with ingots of gold, could not touch, they
penetrated far into the interior, in the fantastic search of
mountains, whose rocks were of the precious metal without
alloy; and rivers, whose beds were amethyst, and pearl, and
glittering dust; and that instead of the realization of these
gorgeous fancies, they met with fierce: tribes amidst the
crags and valleys, who cut them to pieces. But as these
warlike men exhibited the same terror and astonishment at
the sight of the horse, the gallant beasts, as their riders
fell, were permitted by the superstitious conquerors to gallop
away for a new life of freedom upon the wide savannahs below.

There were several entire parties of the cavaliers killed
to a man, by these mountain hordes, all of whose horses
escaped. These bounded away joyfully, with neighings,
until they reached the luxuriant pasture of the plains, and
then fell to work to multiply and replenish.

From this royal lineage the wild horse of both continents
has undoubtedly descended. They spread gradually from
the pampas of California to the bleak and sterile ridges of
Canada, where starvation and the cold dwindled them down
to the shaggy pine-knot of a pony, retaining still the bright,
prominent eye, and devilish, indomitable spirit of their
ancestry. So that you see the pedigree of the mustang is
More immaculate than that of the proudest winner of a
hundred fields. But, independent of these historical facts,
no man who is familiar with the Arab can cast his eye over

464 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

a ‘“Cavayard” of Mexican mares, who are unadulterated
mustangs, without being instantly struck by the remarkable
resemblance between the two races.

You see there the same long, and rather angular. outline;
the same thin, wavy mane, sometimes. from . two to three feet.
in length; the same silky coat; the same round, flat hoof,
the bushy fetlock, and the spur distinctly defined; the same
round, straight fore-leg and short pasterns; the same gray-
hound. hams, and somewhat. ragged hips; the same short:
coupling; the same fine ear, thin head, rather lengthened:
for symmetry; wide, elastic nostrils, and deep mouth; but
foremost of all, the prominent socket; the wide-open lid,
the large eye-ball, lit with a tameless, but not vicious fire,
with its free play showing the broad stripe of creamy. white ;
and when they drink, which they do but once a day, the
same trick of plunging the nostrils up to the eyes in the
water, and swallowing with huge gulphs.

Then mount one, and if you can stick there, you will
find the analogy fully sustained. Day after day, in a long,
springy gallop, it will carry you eighty or a hundred miles,
for weeks together, with scarcely a perceptible diminution of.
spirit or vigor, and requiring nothing with all this but a long
draught of cool, clear water, and the grass of the prairies.

This is the mustang as he really is; as he is to be seen in
thousands multiplied, upon ‘the ocean-like meadows of: the
great South-West! But such specimens as this are to be
seldom seen off his native wilds, for the reason I have
given above; and which must be self-evident, that he is
seldom taken, and when he has been, is far too valuable to
the hunter to be parted: with. Mounted upon these magni-
ficent animals, they take in hundreds the stunted, vicious
little devils that have given reputation to the mustang’
among us!

Like human hunchbacks these creatures seem to become

THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE. 465

splenetic, and unconquerably ill-grained, in a ratio equal
th .r declension from the full standard of proportion and
povver.

The cavayards of the Rio Grande valley and California,
aro ccmposed sometimes of a thousand mares and eight or
ten studs, by whom the females are divided into families of
from eighty to a hundred and twenty, the number a good
des! regulated by their individual prowess. For wars of
jea: us rivalry are incessantly occurring among them, and
whe that is best able to protect his concubines has most of
tkeu. They sometimes have very furious battles with the
wi.l asses of the country, from which they generally come
off worst. These are most merciless ravishers; and after
having frequently killed, or entirely used up the stallions,
thy will scatter the cavayard so that they can never be got
together again.

The mares, which have all been disabled from running fast
by x cruel practice on the part of their owners, of severing
one of the tendons at the knee, cannot escape from these
ferucious gallants, who, more inexorable than the “Old Man
of the Sea” of Sindbad, will cling to them for days till their
object be accomplished, through sheer exhaustion on the
part of the victim. The produce of this connection

‘© Who in the lusty stealth of nature take
More composition and fierce quality—

is a clean-limbed, vigorous, powerful animal. Indeed, the
mule thus bred is, immeasurably, far the most active, spirited,
swift and enduring of all the long-eared genus. They are
not so heavy-boned as the Kentucky mules, but they can
kill two or three of them as travellers, and are really most
delightful animals for the saddle; and being high before,
with light heads, some of them are very handsome. and quite
the average height of our saddle horses.

As our hemisphere is indebted to the priest accompanying
30

466 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Cortez for the ass, as it is to the cavaliers for the horae,
it affords quite a suspicious comment upon the morals of
the reverend fraternity that their bruterepresentatives shouid
inherit such carnal propensities, and disturb the solivudes
of nature even to this late day by so obstreporous disp..ys
of them!

These mules approach nearly in temper and form to the
horse. I speak of the finest of them, of course, for {rey
are very heely, and, as in the case of the mustangs, are
seldom captured. You never see a drove of mustangs wuhout
a considerable proportion of mules among them; which gpes
to prove that the wild ass plays a consistent game with his
peer, the wild stallion; and, indeed, it is no unusual thir to
come across them in the spring and fall engaged in most
desperate contests. The method of managing these duc‘loes
is rather a comical one on the part of the ass.

I once had an opportunity of witnessing an “affair” of
the kind, which was something after this fashion. Th» ass
was his own trumpeter, and announced his approach from
afar with the euphoneous and ear-splitting symphony for
which he is so famous the world over. The ladies of the
herd seemed to be thrown into great consternation by this
ferociously amatory prelude, and rushed t.gether in a trem-
bling crowd around their rightful lord for protection. He,
extricating himself and shaking his streaming mane upon
the winds, with a disdainful toss of his fine crest, gallops
out in front to meet his vulgar and boisterous enemy—who,
with his wide jaws distended, in a very paroxysm of harmo-
nious delivery, comes tearing on with headlong violence.
The chivalrous stallion receives him with a salute from his
heels that fairly rings again upon his hard shaggy limbs—
this compliment, which would seem to have been sufficient
to have shaken, if not overturned a stout-sized barn—has
not the effect of even checking the impetus of the uncouth
foe, who rushes on, his mouth still open, right at the throat

THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE. 467

of the generous steed, thus breaking through his “guard,”
and fastening those massive distended clamps upon his wind-
pipe, hangs there like a bull-dog.

Then comes a sudden silence, and the frightened dames,
their bodies clustered together as close as they can crowd,
their heads all turned toward the combatants, stare in trem-
bling terror at the death-struggle. Many a frantic plunge
the poor horse makes—but all the lithe vigor of his polished
limbs avails him nothing—now rearing erect in the despera-
tion of his agony, he clatters his fore hoofs upon the tough
shoulders of his assailant, but they make about as much
impression there, as they would have done upon the trunk
of a live oak. Now, with every muscle strained, and the
big veins almost bursting through his delicate skin, he
springs wildly forward into the air as though he would
bound clear over the ugly brute; but no—with a stolid
and passive sturdiness, he hangs on, until, at last, all his
mighty strength expended in vain but furious strugglings,
with a deep smothered groan, the noble stallion falls heavily
upon his side. And now the rude conqueror condescends to
quit his hold, and with his bloody jaws distended in a still
louder bray of triumph, he rushes at the shivering squad of
mares! And such a scatterment! Like mad, they rush off
in every direction—he right upon their heels! Soon he
closes with some wretched unfortunate, and then comes
another frantic struggle between savage lust and fear.

The battles between the stallions though, are gallant
displays of graceful and splendid action—they rear and
wrestle like the athlete of olden time—their long and
silky manes dishevelled—their large eye-balls suffused and
red, glowing with angry fires—their pied and glossy coats
stained with blood upon the milk white ground, and gleaming
with the rapid play of agile limbs. Mr. Miller, our artist,
who took the sketch of the scene we give, on the spot,

468 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

through a glass, has presented rather, the grace and playful
action of their lives, than this fierce scene.

The colors of the mustang are surpassingly rich and
beautiful. They are all intense and decided. You will
find them white as the driven snow, without a dark hair on
their bodies; and again, black as the concentrated essence
of midnight—the sunbeams

“« Smoothing the ebon down of darkness till it smiled,”

at every movement of their buoyant humors; then a deep
blood bay, with black mane and tail, or a rich red sorrel.
Again, you find these dark colors mottled in clear relief
upon the pure white. The effect is sometimes exquisite
beyond description. I have seen them “spotted like a
Pard,’”’ and marked in elegant rosettes like the skin of the
African panther. The startling contrast of these deep colors,
in graceful lines, banded and star’d, flecked and dotted, upon
the snowy ground, is above the “Ken of Fancie,” beautiful.

The Comanches—Nomadic tribes, who from their mountain
fastness descend upon the plains below for plunder—like
birds of prey stooping from their eyries, are mounted upon
the finest specimens of these horses that are to be found,
and with such rapidity do they move, that they will traverse
hundreds of miles, carrying death and fear with them along
a whole frontier, and yet retreat to their rocky holds in
safety before the inhabitants can organize a pursuit.

The warriors have a great passion for these “‘ paint horses”
as they are called, and if I live to the age of Methuselah, f
shall never forget the picturesque appearance of a party of
twenty of them we pursued once for fifteen miles, all of
whom were mounted upon fancifully mottled horses. Over
the prairie and through the deep woods we scurried in that
wild desperate chase—the dark gaunt savage forms on their
snowy and freckled steeds, now and then to be seen ahead

THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE. 469

of us, glancing past the leafy trunks of the great trees—
now in a line like a great spotted snake, arrowy gliding over
the green sea of grass.

They had run their horses nearly forty miles before we
get on their trail, and yet our American horses, which were
perfectly fresh, were thoroughly used up before we closed
with them—but “thereby hangs a tale,” touching and strange,
indeed—which we cannot stop here to tell.

The incident strikingly illustrates though, the wonderful
powers of this animal.

The bearing of the stallions toward their families is the
very ideal of chivalry—each one seems to consider himself
solely responsible for the safety of those he has taken under
his protection. He is always on the alert—feeding apart
from them on the highest ground, his watchful survey—every
moment or two scans the horizon, and if any thing suspicious
is detected, off he dashes, fearless in his might and speed,
and circling around the doubtful object till he has determined
its character—if it be an enemy, his trumpet neigh gives
warning to his dames, who have been quietly feeding all this
time, to be off upon their flight! while he, with proud curvot
ings, follows on as if half determined not to fly at an,
“sometimes he trots as though he told his steps,” facing
back towards his pursuer, while

‘* His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,
As from a furnace, vapors doth he send.”
And when a long look and the nearer approach of the enemy.
has satisfied his curiosity, wheeling again, he flies with sur-
passing speed and louder neighing after his retreating herd—

while
“ Through his mane and tail the high wind sighs,
Fanning the hairs, who wave like feathered wings.”
It is a very common thing, when the hunters with the
lasso dash in among the herd, for these gallant fellows to
injure them or their horses seriously, by kicking and biting

470 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

them. The hunters seldom venture upon the experiment
of lassoing them, for the moment an old stallion feels the
lasso upon his neck he will rush at the man and tear him
from his seat. I knew an instance in which a Mexican
was maimed for life. Some of these stallions are very
famous for their incredible swiftness, beauty and endurance.
The hunters know their color, their fine parts and haunts
as well as they know the features of the Pilot Knobs.

You all remember Kendall’s fine description of the “white
steed of the prairies,” so remarkable for his pace that no
hunter had ever yet been able to make him break it! I had
often heard of.the same animal from them, and what is a
curious coincidence, all the white mustangs I have ever seen
are natural pacers.

There is another animal even more magnificent than these,
frequenting the plains west of San Antonia. I had a good
opportunity of seeing this fellow, and was one of a party
that chased him for several days, in the effort to run him
down that we might “pen” him, the only method of hunting
them which is ever successful in securing one of the splendid
creatures. But we must defer the story for another time.

The code in these herds is a very imperious one. Rivalry
is not submitted to from any quarter. As soon as the stud
colts begin to “feel themselves” they are most unceremoniously
banished by the old patriarch. They then lead a solitary
life for several years, until feeling confident in their strength,

.they dash into the nearest herd, and if they should prove
able, whip off the leader and take possession of his seraglio.

In passing those prairies diversified like old English parks
with a cluster of timber here, and a huge moss-hung live-oak
there, I have frequently been amused by the disconsolate air
of one of these expatriated horses, standing “solitary and
alone” beneath the shade, his head drooping, evidently
brooding over bitter memories, and ruminating dire revenge.
The hunters always have a laugh at the sight of such a fellow.

THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE. 471

But the point I wish particularly to direct the attention
of our breeders to. is the importance of crossing the mares
upon our big-boned American stock. A great many facts
have come under my observation which would prove this to
be an exceedingly interesting field of inquiry. The experi-
ment has already been tried upon the western frontier of
Texas, and it is perfectly astonishing what a splendid animal
‘is produced by the cross of even a very coarse American
stud, so he has size, upon these high-blooded and fiery little
mares. A single cross makes the best saddle horse, take
him altogether, I have ever met with, and we have some
pretty passible hacks in Kentucky! It could hardly well be
otherwise, when we look at the pure descent of these mares !

Yet apart from these considerations of utility, if a herd
of buffalo be the grandest and most formidable of our prairie
sights, certainly a drove of mustangs must be accounted the
most magnificently beautiful. No imagination can compass
the exceeding grace and airy freedom of the arched and
silken-tossing chaos, as it sways to and fro, glistening in
‘beamy mail beneath the sun, while sportively unconscious of
observation. How grandly they plunge, curvette and wrestle,
wheel like trained columns, charge, scatter and form again
in the swift change of magic convolutions, shifting like cloud
’ shadows eddied on an April breeze along the grass, as swift,
if not as fleeting !

So they appear from the distance, at which they can alone
be viewed, as in our sketch. Sometimes I have come upon
them suddenly amidst the motts of timber; when the mo-
mentary, but nearer view, would disclose the muttled variety
of their coats to which I have referred; but most usually
they are seen in swift battalions, scurrying across the plains,
and stopping for-a moment, on the last undulation, for a
parting look at the intruder, cluster with flying hair against
the sky, and are gone!

= STAHL

CHAPTER XX.
A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF THE SPECLATER.

TuRN we now to the northward, for our ‘“ Wild Scenes”
have lingered long upon the green dnd waving Plains that
shimmer in the breezy sunshine of the mellow South. Ws
have felt the slumbering electricity in its treacherous air jar
us through smiles, and amidst its fierce extremes of beauty
and of terror, realizod something of the wild unexpectedness
of action peculiar to life amidst the latent power of such
fierce elements, as there “do mostly congregate.”

The “ Hunter-Naturalist”—like an invisible Presence—
has walked with us amidst these scenes, “informing the

472

WILD LAKES OF THE ARIONDACK, 473

Spirit” of them all with this most gossip and desultory
mood in which our volume was at first conceived.

A sum.ner’s journey of sporting adventure towards the
North, dating at'a much later period in my life than those
previously given as personal, included a sojourn amongst
that linked and wonderful cluster of Lakes, extending from
Haulton county, in the west of New York, north to Lake
Ch..plain and the St. Lawrence. Something of the “Wild
Secnes” and characteristic incidents amidst the haughty
solitudes of those rugged hemlock-bristled Ariondacks,
and their chaste, cold, glistening Lakes, I must give in a
fragmentary way.
~ Thad reached Lake Pleasant in Hamilton county, the
semi-civilized outpost of the wilderness interior of ‘“ Sporting
Grounds,” through the ordinary tribulations of jolting,
fatique, mud, rain, etc., in company with an English friend,
a placid “‘son of the angle,” in the strict Waltonian sense,
but altogether an unaccustomed hunter of wilderness game.

Lake Pleasant, upon the outlet end of which we were
tenorarily located in a rude board hovel, dignified as “ mine
inn !”’—was overlooked at the opposite by an abrupt moun-
tain—one of the Ariondacks—named from the Indian name,
the Speclater. The inlet came in at its foot, and from the
steep top, a bird’s-eye view could be obtained of the whole
scene of our future operations. After a night’s rest, we
made a day of it to clamber the huge rocky sides of this
ancient sentinel that from its bald crest we should look
forth, that our eyes might be “‘made aware.”

I wanted to convey some idea of what we saw, but I find
that though very nice in theory the practice is difficult. I
could only think, as we ascended, in the words of one who
spake of old— Get thee up into the top of Pisgah, and lift
thine eyes westward, and northward, and southward, and east-
ward, behold it with thine own eyes!’ And, verily, when we ,

474 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

reached the top of Mount Speclater did we lift our eyes
and behold the promised land of sportsmen—the Canaan,
not of milk and honey, by a long jump—but of the ferx
nature— ‘a whole yearth full ‘er God-a-mighty’s wild var-
mints!” as a sublimity-struck Connecticut Pedlar ejaculated
from the same point of view! Of a truth it was a wonderful
sight—looking down at your feet, then off to the South, and
then to the North-west, upon this wild chaos of savage-looking
hills, lit up by the scattered shine of thirty-six Lakcs, which,
within the space of about the same number of miles in length,
look like bright patches which had fallen in benediction out
of a summer’s sky into these sullen glooms!

There they go, far away beneath us—those younger ranks
of pine-haired Titans, that make the blue line of the Arion-
dack! See them stretch their misty arms to one another,
rank upon rank, to form these cordons of impregnable defence
about those shadowy basins, up from which the silver sheen
of many a grotesque form of Lake is thrown into our dazzled
eyes.

What a sight is this, within twenty-four hours of New
York, with its smoke, and din, and crush!

Hurrah! to think that these bright sheets are gleaming
down through their still blue depths with shoals of the
magnificent salmon trout, with their dark marbled backs
and lustrous mottled sides, and that every silver thread of
river, rivulet and inlet binding them together, glitters upon
its ripples or within its shaded pools to the arrowy leap of
that crimson flecked keystrel of the streams, the brook trout!

Hurrah! hurrah! to think, too, that these unbroken forests
which still wear the solemn look of Earth’s Primeval births,
yet shelter within their difficult fastnesses, her earliest chil-
dren. That the huge moose which came before the red man,
yet rouses the sluggish echoes with its hoarse bellowings.
That the red deer whistles and snorts to the boding how!

WILD LAKES OF THE ARIONDACK. 475

of the tireless gray wolf; and the brown bear, like a clumsy
boxer, cuffs the screaming panther away from its newly slain
feast ! : m

The Indian is gone, but yet his ancient foes and victims
have flourished apace, and may usurp their inheritance.

Hurrah! hurrah! Arkwright and Fulton have not yet

conquered the free earth of God in this direction—and
bound aiZ its limbs in chains!
_ “The undevout astronomer is mad’”—and the devout
sportsman may be forgiven, if at such a sight he, too, grow
mad and should fall to capering, and become something of
a heathen in his glee, shouting as I did. i

“Take my cap, Jupiter, and thank thee!” Against such
uncanonical sins I hereby formally warn all other faithful
sons of Nimrod, who may be “taken aback” under similar
circumstances.

As to the propriety of capering and throwing up one’s
cap on the top of a mountain, I must in meekness confess
to its being “Aéghly improper” —“‘unworthy the dignity,”
ete.—but bless our soul, who could help it? Not any genuine
sportsman, I am sure, whether he be “ Venator,” ‘“ Piscator,”
or “ Anceps!’—or all combined as—“TI flatter myself !’’—
ahem !

No, it was not in human nature—or more inclusively,
sportsman’s nature—to look down upon a scene so gloriously
fresh—so impregnably savage—hemmed in with its blue-
topped barriers forever !—without feeling rich—rich as the
discoverer of some new gold-bearing island of the ta»pic
sea of dreams—richer far than one of England’s proud lords
when he waved his hand towards his fenced and great domain ;
for this, too, was mine—was ours—was all mankind’s—was
Gon’s, as the executor for ALL!

And what if I were guilty of some saltant absurdities ?
There were no game law iniquities upon my shoulders to
weigh down my heels!—all this was free, and the fatness

476 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

thereof was mine for the winning—mine to be struggled
for manfully with my brother—mine to be pouched, carried
off and eaten, if my right hand retained its cunning! Even
my placid friend, Piscator, felt within him the movings of a
mild exultation, as he stretched forth his hands above it in
calm blessing, and peacefully smiled!

Here and there the white mist-clouds lay along the hill-
sides above them—seeming to form high up against the
purpled green the zrial double of the lakes—and there, ng
doubt, the swift-winged swallows—though we couldn't see
them—dived through the fleecy waves like brook-trout, and
the fish-hawk swooped ke the ravenous salmon—if they
didn’t at them below!

Of this we had much more palpable evidence, for we saw
many of them rise, beating their wings with exulting screams
as they went circling up and up, bearing a three to a five
pounder in their talons. Fat pickings for fish-hawks, any
how, in these thirty odd lakes! How I envied the rascals,
and wished to hear :the war-cry of a bald eagle, and see
him come down from the clouds above, hurled swiftly, like
the bolt he once bore, upon resistless wings, to strike the
gluttons and make them drop their struggling prey, and
then to see the conquering robber pause and dive with a
roar of plumes down the still air and snatch the glistening
spoil before it reached the wave again.

These are the quick, fierce battles of the air-kings that
we sometimes see from such a perch!

But let us count our riches over, and name their names
and places that we may know them.

Sheer down from our pinnacle on the northern side lies
Lake Pleasant—a great white opal, with an emerald in the
centre. This is

The captain jewel of the carcanet,”

and old earth wears it proudly for its beauty, and its name

WILD LAKES OF THE ARIONDACK. 477

1s most happily named. Its shape is somewhat irregular,
and its length is four miles, with an average breadth of two
miles, and a depth of sixty feet. At the opposite extremity
is the narrow but deep outlet which forms the Sockendog
River, after passing through Cungamunck Bay, a few res
farther on, and then strikes off to the north-east, a bold
and boisterous mountain stream, clattering among tho hills
until it looses itself in the great Hudson, as its western
branch.

The shores of Lake Pleasant have quite a cultivated aspect
—this is of course comparative. A number of beautiful
grazing farms are opened to view around its rolling shores
down to the water’s edge. They are very rudely cultivated
yet, but they might be made surpassingly lovely scme day.

At the N. W. extremity of Lake Pleasant is the inlet of
Round Lake, which is about half a mile in length. Round
Lake! Gloomy, wild and picturesque Round Lake! twin
sister of Lake Pleasant, “but grander and more rude than
she !”—rimmed, like a Titan’s brimming drinking cup, with
low rocks, all around and above them the unbroken forest
slanting up to blue-topped hills. How deep, austere and
solemn its repose.

What a shadow beside the sunny loveliness of its contrasted
sister! It is three miles both ways, and deeper than Lake
Pleasant. There is no sign of cultivation upon its savage
shores except at the outlet. It has several inlets, which go
glimmering faintly through the narrow valleys towards the
north-west. They connect it still with smaller lakes, Echo
Lake, Lake Sound, and—Q! euphonious accord !—Mud
Lake!

When a few miles to the west another chain commences with
Long Lake, which is two miles and a half in length by a
half in width. This connects with Fly Lake, which is
smaller still, and this with Falls Lake, about the same size,
which outlets into Piseco, eleven miles west. This is

478 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

famous lake, and is about seven miles long and twelve
wide. Through its outlet, West River, it is one of the
feeders of Sockendog River, which forms the west branch
of the Hudson.

This, too, is a lovely lake, partaking of many of the
features of Lake Pleasant. There is some rude presence of
civilization on the north end and eastern side, where a few
farms and a small village are to be seen along the smoothly
undulating shore. The country opens level to the south-east,
but on the north-west the Panther mountain beatles over it
protectingly stern.

This lake has been made renowned among sportsmen by
the feats of the noted Piseco Club—a fraternal band who
went thither once a year upon a devout pilgrimage to offer
up a sacrificial hecatomb of fish bones and buck’s horns to
the manes of their hirsute progenitor, Ham! After very
nearly exhausting its waters and shores, they have deserted
them, and are now threatening some one of the wilder lakes
we see towards the north-west. Here, when we talk of
exhausting Piseco, we must be understood as when talking
of the progress of civilization—in a comparative sense—for
be it understood—these six devout pilgrims regarded one
hundred pounds a day as the small expression of their fervid
religious zeal; and the beautiful lake fell into discredit with
them so soon as it refused to render up this slight diurnal
tribute. “ Sportsmen of less zeal still find it a charming
resort. ,

Now look away to the north-west, and you can count along
the line of vision, until it is lost in the dim serrated line
of the Blue Ariondack, twenty-five wild, lovely lakes, upon
whose virgin solitudes no‘ Piseco Club has ever intruded with
its exhausting zeal. Look closely now, and you will be
able to trace the threads of three of the finest trout streams
in America. They form the eastern branch of the Hudson!

Here we are perched above and in the centre of the head

WILD LAKES OF THE ARIONDACK. 479

springs of that majestic river, and can almost trace even the
attenuated rills to their junction, and we can see, too, in the
blue mountains, the dividing ridge between its waters and
the clear, gelid flood of the St. Lawrence!

A glorious perch, is it not?

First: six miles N. W. we can see Jessup’s River. This
is the nearest stream abounding with speckled trout, and
where sport at this season is sure to be abundant. To “the
Bridge’ and to “the Indian Clearing” everybody must go
first “to fecl the joy that anglers feel.”

This last place has been rendered immortal by the extra-
ordinary feat of our friend Porter, of the Spirit of the
Times. We do not venture to give the number of pounds
withm a given time—he is “tall’’ enough and his shoulders
are broad enough to bear the responsibility—but we can
bear witness, from our high and responsible position, in the
presence of all these solemn-looking hills and lakes, that
our “experience” at the Indian Clearing entirely bears him
out in the assertion of prodigies to be wrought there.

Then comes Whittaker Lake—thereby hangs a tale! Then
comes the two Dug Mountain Lakes and Mason Lake—these
are all small.

Now comes Louis Lake—the next most famous to Piseco,
and affording now better fishing and hunting. It is twelve
miles from the Speclater, and is the favorite resort of
those who come for a short stay and ready sport. This is
one of the most beautiful of the lakes—its outlet forms a
junction with Jessup’s River in a few miles, and is thence
called Indian River to its junction with the east branch of
the Hudson.

But I have not space for more particular enumeration. I
m' st pass to the curious Trinity of the Cedar Lakes, which
etipty, too, into the Hudson by Moose River—better fishing
even than the Jessup’s River—and here we are at Racquett’s
Lake, which is in this direction almost the ultima thule and

480 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Fil Dorado of the sportsman cémbined. It is fourteen by
saven L.iles, average, broken into two great basins, connected
by a narrow strait. It is the largest and most savagely
picturesque of the lakes, and most abounding in game of
every sort.

rout of both kinds are so abundant in the great basins and
the numerous inlets, that the sport soon becomes fatiguing.
It has twenty-four islands,.of from one hundred acres to ten
feet. On the west side is the inlet of a singular chain of small
lakes, eight in number, all of which abound in both varieties
of trout, and the accompanying fish, suckers, chubs, shiners,
blue cats, sun perch, etc. This remarkable chain extends
about fourteen miles north and east of the lakes, is deep,
clear and ice cold. On the east side of Racket Lake is the
inlet of Blue Mountain Lake, which is cold—almost to
freezing point—and like a solid crystal set upon a snowbank
of blanched sand.

You can see, as you hang suspended in mid-air here in
your boat, the shoals of trout go by in twenty feet water!
Think of that! Then comes Long Lake again—this time
in earnest—for it is twenty miles long, with an outlet
towards Lake Champlain. Here is the difficult paradise of
sportsmen ; and from Louis Lake, north, the moose becomes
more abundant, with its attendant train of smaller game,
and the distance, all told, from our perch on Speclater
Mountain to Long Lake, is only sixty miles! These are
the principal points of attraction within the range of our
utinost vision which I have here noted; though now we can
perceive that even yet there are more than thirty-six lakes,
the names and distances of which I have not space to notice
in this bird’s-eye view.

But verily, this view of this our exceeding riches, in a
land so rude and unpromising in the mouth of fame, and it
muy be together with the rareness of the air, has sharpened
our appetite for testing again the flavor of the good things

WILD LAKES OF THE ARIONDACK. 481

therein contained. Yea, our placid friend, Piscator, stroketh
his stomach as his anticipative eyes are turned towards
yonder humble looking house. Let us descend. What have
we ‘here, our tidy hostess? Fresh green peas—a salmon
trout—a delicate steak of venison—strawberries, currants,
cream! O, ye gods on high Olympus! eShade of Epicurus!
Let us fall to!

The blessing of Piscator was somewhat curiously commen-
tated—“ Thank thee for thy manifold mercies, good Lord:
Amen. Verily a good wife is a jewel unto her husband!"
Amen! we responded.

31

,CHAPTER XXI.

TROLLING IN JUNE.
.

“TROLLING,” anywhere over good water, has its merits,
but “trolling” over Lake Pleasant and Round Lake, of a
sultry, pulseless summer’s day, after the season has gone
by, has its romance; and it is concerning this striking
feature thereof, that I propose now to write.

“Patience is a virture of the serene gods,” say the meek
brothers of the angle; but I say their godships never sub-
jected that sublimest attribute to the test of trolling one
of the last days of June anywhere in Hamilton county;
neither do I believe Old Nick ever thought of that merciful
dispensation in favor of Job, or we should have heard a
different story. It passeth all comprehension—not “
still imagination in bottomless conceit—” could. ! But
I anticipate!

I was extremely ambitious of salmon trout—or “lakers,”
as they call them; and must confess that my inner visuals
were so preoccupied by the glistening image of a twenty-
pounder dancing in the air before them, while preparing
to come here, that it never once occurred to me to inquire
whether I should be in season or out of season for them.
As for my friend Piscator, his contented fancy had never
soared above a brook-trout of three pounds; and when he
heard the stories of these huge fellows, his large eyes would
grow rounder, and lambent with a liquid inspiration at the
thought.

With what an eager smile, betwixt wonder and awe, he
would listen, while he toiled at his delicate tackle, renewing

482

TROLLING. 483

its parts and strengthening its joints in preparation for the
momentous struggle! We impatiently questioned our oracle,
George Holland, as to the chances of success in trolling;
but George, like all other oracles, was both prudent and
mystical. He saw that we were determined that it should
be in season, whether or no; that we would take some
salmon trout, “bite or no bite;’’ and therefore he waived
answering our questions directly, but told of his success four
weeks ago; said the day was not very fine for ’em—but we
might try, and if they did bite, we would probably take
some! Encouraging, very! and the sly twinkle in the fellow’s
eye, still more so! But we hadn’t come two hundred miles
to be discouraged, and we went.

My friend had new-rigged his tackle with the painstaking
skill of true science—while I, who pretend to no knowledge
of the niceties of art, had left mine to the' experience of
George. The ‘shiners’ were taken for bait with a dip net
at the outlet, and then in a light boat we launched upon
the lake. We were two in a boat—which is contrary to all
precedent, as laid down in the Journal of Lake Piseco Trout
Club, which has been appended to Wiley & Putnam’s elegant
edition of Walton and Cotton. There it is described ex
cathedra, as follows—

The trolling is done by rod and reel, each fisherman
using two at the same time; the reels are improved by
having a bearing upon them instead of a catch, so that the
rod may be laid down with the line extended without running
out, unless struck by a fish or some other obstruction. When
a fish seizes the bait the oarsman quits his oars, the other
is handed to him, and he reels up the line to prevent its
falling upon the bottom, or the fish, from entanglement.

This, of course, implies one fisherman to a boat—but with
such an oarsman as ours, we found there was not the slightest
danger of entanglement, with one at each end, while the
oarsman was left free to use the gaff without apy risk of

484 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

unsteadying the boat too much by giving him two things to
do at a time. Our tackle, however, agreed precisely with
their formula, which we give.

The tackle is of the most delicate kind; a leader of
from six td nine feet of single gut, with sncll having five
hooks, arranged with two at the end placed back to back,
two more one inch above, and a fifth, or slip hook, one inch
above, which passes through and secures the upper and
lower jaw of the minnow, which serves for bait; one of the
middle hooks is placed in the back of the bait, and one of
the lower hooks in the tail. These hooks are so small that
they will scarcely allow the barrel of a quill to rest in them.

Thus far we were “conformists;” and George, after a few
strokes of the oars, paused, and taking a shiner from the
bucket in which they swam, placed one upon each of our
lines. The operation is a very nice one—as the object is
to retain the fish in the position of swimming, and keep it
alive, too, as long as possible, by closing its jaws with the slip
hook, which prevents it from drowning; the two other hooks
on the same side are so carefully placed under the back fin
and through the tail, that I have seen them swim briskly
off after an hour’s trolling. George then cast them off, and
struck out for the deep water with powerful strokes which
made the boat fairly leap sgain.

The shores of Lake P]-asant on this side slope beautifully
over a fair sand bottom for several hundred yards to the
deep water. Before we reached this dark transparency, our
lines had been reeled off to over a hundred and fifty feet,
and were trailing a few feet below the surface, far in our
rear. Qur oarsman then altered his stroke to a slow and
noiseless dip, which scarcely rippled the calm surface. Now
a “strike,” if we were to get one at all, might be expected. —
and with this-skillful rowing, our wake closed far enough this
side the bait to leave it floating in calm water, where the
trout might see the flash of the shiner’s side gleam slant

TROLLING. 485

down the cold depths of the “spring-holes” where they
lay.

There we sat, stem and stern, Piscator and I, holding our
poles erect, like statues, petrified by our own eagerness,
while the angry sun looked down in sweltering wrath upon
our simplicity. Not a breeze came with its blessing to turn
aside his curse—not a cloud went up to the sky to shelter
us with brooding wings. The pitiless lake held up its
burnished shield—still as the death of winter—to hurl the
sun’s keen arrows, yellow with heat, full in our faces.
Round and round Lake Pleasant (infernal mockery of name!)
went the slow boat, until the silence of its glide became
torture to me, for I longed to hear the ring of ripples and
the cool splash of oars. How I began to curse the skill
of our patient boatman. As we wheeled slowly past the
island it looked like heaven, with the dark, cool shadows
of its towering pines. How I longed to have said my
prayers more regularly, that I might be permitted to lie
down beneath them—and caught myself murmuring rapidly
over and over, with my childhood’s intonation of piety—z. e.
through the nose—“ And now I lay me down to sleep,” &c.

But I couldn’t catch up! Not a bite yet. That would
have been some comfort! I moaned as I tossed my basting
limbs to and fro.

“Curse all salmon-trout! would that the bull-frogs and
mud-cats had ye in the spawn—hope ye may all be toasted
alive upon the trident of the god of waters—ye illuscry
imps—ye speckled whelps, hag-born—may it be the fate of
each of ye to be frozen stiff and be made into runners to
some furred Kamskatkan’s dog-drawn sled !—but pshaw !—
there’s no outlet that way; curse ’em anyhow! Phew, ()
scizzors !” ,

George—loquitur—* Gentlemen, think we'd better go inte
Round Lake—the water's colder and deeper there, we'd
have a better chance ?”’

486 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

Ego—“ Yes! in the name of mercy go anywhere—where
its cold—into Round Lake or Nova Zembla. Wish Round
Lake, Lake Pleasant and all the rest of your lakes were
boiling in the cauldron of Hecla, and I was sitting on an_
iceberg to witness it—how I would rejoice to see the bleached
salmon tossed up on the bubbles!”

Piscator—solemnly—“ but then we should eat them without
the glory of capturing them alive. Unless I had felt them
play upon my tackle I should have no stomach for their
blanched sides. It is a wish unworthy a true brother of the
angle!”

Ego—“ Piscator, when you die, the Zodiac will be the
richer, for you will surely be translated into the sign of
the fish!—to join the patriarchs who have gone before—
Walton, and Cotton, Mr. Secretary Bibb—when he does
go! A breeze! a breeze! my kingdom for a breeze!
George, let us away to Round Lake—this bad cannot be
made worse!”

We pass into the narrow inlet, and the boat glides briskly
among the parched water lilies, the drooping flags and long
bowed grass. A half mile of its winding way, and we are
shot, with a long sweep of oars, into Round Lake. “ Beau-
tiful! beautiful!’—I exclaimed aloud—‘‘ What a scene of
fairie.”’

Piscator—“ Verily, it seems promising for trout here, at
last, George. They are known to bite on this deep water
such days as this?”

Ego—“No, unfortunate Piscator—you may rest assured
never! They would scald their noses if they came near
enough the surface to strike, even here.”

George—with a sly evasion—It requires a breeze, sir,
for them to bite most any time!”

Piscator—“ Here goes with another shiner—breeze or no
breeze, we must have a trout for dinner! Would that I had
my hook of flies!”

TROLLING. 487

Ego—“ Piscator, thou unbelieving Thomas! What would’st
thou do with flies here ?”

“Piscator—We of the brotherhood know them to work
miracles, and therefore believe in their efficacy.”

Ego—with a gasp and a sigh of exhaustion—“TI see! Ah,
Piscator! Piscator! The ruling passion strong in death!”

“ George—Looking behind him—“ A breeze! There comes
a breeze, gentlemen !””

“Thank the good gods,” and I almost overset the boat as
I lifted up my forehead eagerly to catch the first cool brush
of its coming wing.

“Now for a trout,” chuckled Piscator, with glistening eyes.

Ah, it comes at last-—so cool—so balmily delicious—driving
the white-topped wavelets before it—on! on with it came the
black shadow of that angel-ridden cloud to shelter us. I
could have shouted for my joy—aye, lifted up my exulting
soul in peeans, as cloud after cloud came drifting on their
white plumes over us, with a legion of airy ministers which
had come to our relief; but that my eyes fell upon the warm
face of Piscator, shining with perspiration and expanded into
a smile of pleasing expectancy as he watched the vibrations
of his line. I was amazed into dumbness. I gazed upon
the devotee in “a mute astound,” when lo! a heavy jerk—
a lurch and a shout, “you've got him!” from George, made
me aware that a fish had struck. “Reel him in!” said
George, as I hastily let go the line. “Reel him in,” he
has line enough.” I reeled away, while Piscator, too
generous to show his disappointment, did the like with
his, watching at the same time with benevolent interest
for my success.

It was a pause of breathless interest, as I reeled rapidly
up for a few moments. ‘Curse it, George,” I exclaimed
petulantly, “I feel nothing—the fellow has broken away.”
He was watching my line—“<No! no! reel on—you have
him, you'll feel him directly.” Reel! reel! reel! and

488 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

now a few faint surges which bent the rod slightly. There!
the flash of his gleaming side darts up the blue wave! now
he has waked up! Tug! splash! whiz—there he goes bound-
ing clear out of water on the taut line! Steady! steady!
George is ready with the gaff. Now he rises again—there,
he has it! Floundering over our feet lays a beautiful two-

pound laker !
“No great shakes after all, Master George—but ah! what

a lovely creature it is. Here, let me look at him well before
his glorious colors fade. See his long gracefully tapering
body; see the dark greenish purple of his richly marbled
back, how it lightens quickly down his side, like silver
burnished bronze; and then those rows of spots so regularly
placed along it—the two outside of yellow, like gold drops,
that down the middle of small carbuncles! There! there!
the splendors are fading already !””

Beautiful dweller of the dark blue waters, farewell until
we meet, again at the dinner table! Ah, Piscator! Piscator !
my hapless friend! you perceive the jealous Deities of the
lake have visited an austere judgment upon you in permitting
to me alone the “spoila opima’” of the excursion, can you
not perceive the reason ?

Piscator—“ To rebuke your want of faith and wishes on
their behalf this day, I suppose !”

Ego— Infatuated! can you not feel that it has been to
punish your presumption in wishing you had flies—when
George, our: oracle and their High Priest, had already
revealed to you that they would only take living shiners,
and were not to be fooled by mimic monsters of wool and
feathers! you shamefully discredited their sagacity thereby!”

Piscator—with suspended nostrils and lightning in his eye
—‘Pshaw, nonsense! I shall take a trout greater than five
of thine before we reach yonder shore !”

Ego—compassionately—“ Vain man !”

. Again we ‘glided off, across and about, around and around

\

TROLLING. 435

we went for a weary time the same noiseless way—when
suddenly our curse came again, and I remembered—

‘Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
*Twas sad as sad could be.”

And then:

“‘ All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun, at noon,” &. &c.

I verily shuddered as I felt the hot stagnation settle upon
my forehead and my lungs. I looked appealingly to Piscator.
What? Horror!—the despairing wretch !—the disappoint- ©
ment and all has been too much for him! With head thrown
back, and eyes rolling wildly towards the zenith—his large
manly throat bared, he held—the brandy flask to his lips !—
the forgotten brandy flask! and then my time came. I
imbibed from it contemplatively and laid it aside solemnly.
I had rested the end of my rod in the gunwale of the boat,
and did not take it up again. I laid myself reposefully in
the bow. The vanity of all sublunary things—but most
that of trolling for lakers out of season, had been male
apparent to me. I looked up to the clouds—above us they
had vanished, and all was “a hot and copper sky:” as if
to the spell of some strange wizard of the North, their
careering legions had been called down and rested toward
the pole upon the mountain tops—still!—still as if they
paused in the terror of a weird necromancy, which held
them frozen in its dreadful will. They were strangely piled,
and strewn, and marshalled. I never saw such clouds before
—the forms were all of white, with a dark distinct outline.
I became strangely elated and laughed out wildly, and then
muttered—

“Aye, yonder is the pageant of our lives—the substance
whereof our realities are made, and yet how strange it seems,
how it has become so palpable. Look at it closely; you will
see there

490 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

‘The shadows of all forms that think and live

Till Death unite them, and they part no more;
Dreams and the light imaginings of men,

And all that faith creates of love, desires
Terrible, strange, sublime and beauteous shapes.’

Every thing there, Piscator! Even to that white throne,
heaped up like a reflex of the frowning Speclater; and there
on the cloudy Olympus I can see particular deities of Lake
Pleasant and Round Lake. It must be confessed, that
though their ‘brows are awful,’ their tails look somewhat
‘fishy!’ See! ‘there is a veritable representative of the
salmon trout whom you have this day insulted! He kneels
with a graceful bend of his pedestal fin, and with open mouth
is complaining to their Godships concerning you. See how
they wag their misty heads and scowl the feathery bolts of
their ire down at you! Tremble, presumptuous Piscator !’

Piscator—laughing dolorously—“ Aye! aye! my Pithian!
Pass him the flask, George !’”

Ego—with a grandiose wave of the arm—‘No, sir! no
more brandy. My inspiration is there—

All the gods
Are there, and all the powers of nameless worlds;
Vast sceptred phantoms; heroes, men and beasts ;
And Demogorgon, a tremendous gloom ;
And he, the supreme Tyrant on his throne
Of burning gold.’

Blind worm—(I should call you angle-worm, Piscator)—
can you not see them? Look, I say !—there is the Northern
Bear, distinct, upreared upon his mighty hinder parts, and
boxing with his frosty paws the small and feathery curled
efigy of a French poodle, which assails him from above
with snarling jaws!”

Piscator— Bah! you are becoming a political prophet.
Do you see John Bull there?”

Ego—indignantly—“ Where are your eyes? Do you not

TROLLING. 491

see him on this side below the bear, tumbling down the white
cliffs of Albion, from which he has just been brought by one
stroke of those white gelid paws—with hoofs in air, and
upward mouth wide-stretched with bellowings? (Piscator is
an Englishman!) Eyeless Angle-worm! can you not see ?”

Piscator—placidly—“ No, no! I have no eyes for your
mad visions !”’

Ego—with furious emphasis—“ Mad, are they ?

——‘ Call at will
Thine own ghost or the ghost of Jupiter,
Hades, or Typhon, or what mightier gods—hey !’”

A tremendous lurch! Boat nearly turned over! My rod
almost bent double! as the boat is wheeled violently from its
course, and we all thrown as violently upon our sides, for in
the wake a huge trout leaped from the water, and when he
falls back the boat rights, and we all look foolish.

George, vehemently—“ There, you’ve lost him Me

Piscator, indignantly—‘“ There! if you had held your rod
in your hand, instead of ranting nonsense on your back
you wouldn’t have lost that twelve-pounder !”’

Ego—faintly—“ But he didn’t bite at a fly, or at the hook
of a fly fisher !”

Moral—never troll lake trout after the first of June.

Sa “

Eta

CHAPTER XXII.

A NIGHT HUNT UP THE CUNGAMUNCK.

ALTHOUGH the most inveterate of veteran fly-fishers, Pis-
cator had, even in our short survey of these wild sporting
grounds, become thoroughly aroused to a sense of “ higher
things” than brook trout, and not in the least discouraged at
the signal failures of the first flights of his ambition at the
great lake trout, he now breathed quicker, with a yet more
eager emulation for nobler quarry still! In short, as our
guide, George, said—‘ He’s down on the deer up Cunga-
munek !”

The reader is no doubt familiar with the mode of hunting

492

A NIGHT HUNT UP THE CUNGAMUNCK. 493

deer “by torch-light,” which has been so often described—
but I have some doubts about his being so with that of
hunting them “by candle-light,” which, I believe, is peculiar
to the Lake country. This hunt must take place during the
warm months, when flies are most abundant. Indeed, it is
as much to escape from their persecutions as to browse upon
certain varieties of water-plants, which then make their
appearance along the edges of the marshes, streams, and
lakes, that the deer come into the water to feed, and thus
. afford an opportunity for this evening sport.

Yes, the “dander” of my placid associate, Piscator, “is
riz!” He vows in his mild, but not the less significant
manner, that nothing short of a “ten prong buck” will
satisfy him, and so proceeds in a severe and ominous silence
with his preparation.

The beautiful “‘double-barrel”—which had heretofore been
guilty of nothing more serious than wood-cock and ducks—
was to be unscrewed, taken apart, and cleaned to the last
degree of scrupulous nicety, in preparation for the more
important work on hand. Then, with mathematical pre-
cision, it was duly charged, and then, with a flask in each
pocket—for two kinds of ammunition are indispensable on
such occasions! and a well-filled cigar case, he is ready!
And he casts his eyes about—something is wanting! Yes!
yes! the “India rubber overall.” For Piscator, like all
true brothers of the angle that I have yet met, has a peculiar
horror of risking the wetting his skin.

I have, after much study, accounted satisfactorily for this
phenomenon, by the philosophical conclusion, that they are
haunted by the constant apprehension of transmigration into
the corporate forms of the trout, to which they are so devoted.
I had even ventured to hint as much to Piscator, but the
nervous dread with which he evidently avoided the subject,
caused me to forbear, in courtesy, pressing it farther! Being
a zealous disciple of Priesnitz, I have no fear of cold water

494 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

before my eyes; and therefore my equipment in this respect
was considerably simplified, though I must confess to you I
had an ever-present terror of the flies, which was quite an
offset to Piscator’s transmigration, and cost me quite as much
preparation to guard against.

I knew that the oil of pennyroyal was a specific against
their attacks; but aside from my aversion to the use of so
disagreeable an article, I had forgotten it, so that the only
resource left me, had been to buy a green veil at Northfield,
and cutting a hole in the centre large enough for the crown
of my broad brimmed leghorn to pass through, I had the ends
taken up and a “ puckering string’ run around them, so that
they could be drawn close about my neck—thus securely
surrounding my face with a net which would defy even
“black gnats.” Thus, with rifle (which is my favorite weapon)
in hand, and my personal dividend of ammunition in pocket,
I, too, considered myself equipped for the night hunt.

Piscator was characteristically disregardful of “the flies,”
and laughed quite as much at my precautions against them
as I had done at his against getting wet. He said, somewhat
pedantically, that ‘‘ Patience was a more magnanimous divinity
than Prudence, seeing that the one was always irritable,
distrustful, and guarding herself against the wisdom of the
Higher Powers, while the other was content in calm humility
to abide the evil the Gods might send along with the good!”

Whereto I replied—‘‘ The Gods do not send black gnats,
Piscator; for I have sufficient proof in their color that they
are hatched in Acheron, and are loosed upon earth by the
Evil Deities to make good men swear against Jupiter—there-
fore, I guard against the crime rather than provoke it—while
you itpiously shield your shoulders against the rain, which
is confessedly the chiefest benediction of the covering heavens.”

Piscator did not reply, but somewhat petulantly tossed his
Iudia rubber overall upon his shoulders, and calling our
guide, tramped away, followed by me, towards the boat at

A NIGHT HUNT UP THE CUNGAMUNCK. 495

the outlet. There we found every thing needful already in
the boat. The additions to its ordinary equipment were very
few and simple. A stout pine stick had been let into an
auger hole through a board which had been placed across
the bow. This stood some four feet high; and upon the top
of it was placed a triangular shaped box, open at the wide
end, and which was intended to hold the lighted candles.
Then there was a low seat, which was intended for the
marksman, who sat forward, just behind the staff and box-
lantern; then we had a paddle, which was to be used when
we reached the scene of operations, where the ordinary oars
were to be laid aside.

Now we embarked, and set off down the narrow but deep
outlet. It here takes the name of Sockendog river, and its
course towards the southeast is through a wide valley, between
two chains of hills. The water spreads over the surface of
this valley in reality, though it is so overgrown by the
“mash” of tall grass, flags and water-lilies, that the real
channel seems like a dark shining ribbon laid along a rippled
and rustling waste of green. Soon we reached Cungamunck
Bay, which spreads a quarter of a mile in width, with the
hills rising abruptly on the east. It is a pretty sheet of
water, covered with the white and yellow flowers of the lily.
Sockendog plunges on through a gorge by the foot of the
hills, while we turn towards the north-west, pushing through
the grass and lilies for the thread-like channel of the Cunga-
munck river, which comes winding down from out a forest
of wild hills.

Now the valley narrows rapidly, and the hills stand
marshalled on either hand in close dark lines. The sun
is yet over an hour high, and its yellow glitter is broken
upon our faces through the firs and pines which bristle on
the ridges. We are gliding with a “stilly creeping” glide,
beneath their long shadows and up the tortuous vistas of this
curious stream, which comes creeping slowly down through

496 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the grass like a great snake out of its lair of night, with
here and there the golden morning glistening on its scales.

It was a strange, lonely scene, and a dream-like hush was
over it, so that we could hear our hearts beat above the soft
lapsing of the deeply winnowed oars. It seemed so wild, and
was so still here, that no other sounds should intrude but the
splash of the plunging bull-frog, the rustling ripple of the
wading deer among the flags, and the musically shrill metallic
warble of the black-winged scarlet tanager, from out the deep
shadows of the hill-side forest of old pines and hemlock.
Now is the time when the deer begin to come down from the
hills to feed upon the tender ‘grasses and water plants that
grow in the bed and along the edges of the stream; and we
may expect any moment, when we make the short turns,
which, although the stream is deep, are often hardly long
enough for the boat to lie m, or wide enough for the oars,
to see a tawny head uplifted in the startle, and reaching out
from the long grass over the channel to gaze at our coming
with pricked ears.

Piscator and I drew lots for the first shot at starting, and
I won, so that I had the forward seat, and with rifle at
“present,” I sat in statue-like and breathless expectation as
we made each turn, and came upon a new and always wilder
and more lovely picture of green islets, deep receding coves,
where the trout leaped like quick gleams of moonlight over
the white lilies—or small meadows waving to and fro, in live
contrast with the gray and solemn-looking boulders of granite
which are piled up behind them, with the matted and snake-
like roots of the ancient pines above, twisted and twined
along their edges. I was so lulled and enchanted by the
constantly varying beauty and the presiding repose of these
scenes, that, with all the eager instincts of the sportsman
rampant in my veins, I could not help hoping, at moments,
that no deer would make its appearance, and thus compel
me to mar this harmonious calm. Nor did it happen so, for,

A NIGHT HUNT UP THE CUNGAMUNCK. 49%

contrary to our expectation, not one showed itself to tempt
me, although it was three miles up to where this stream
outlets in Elm Lake.

It was in the last half mile of our approach to this and
around its mashy shores, that we looked for the sport of the
night to begin in earnest; and any that might have occurred
on the way would have been incidental, and could therefore
be well dispensed with for the higher and more placid enjoy-
ment of the scene. As we approached the Lake the stream
became more shallow, and we were compelled at last to get
out and let our guide drag the boat up the ripples. The sun
was now setting, and at the first place where the low water
thus compelled us to land for a few moments, we were
suddenly introduced to that most inconceivable torment, the
black gnat !

As the shades of evening advance, these gnats, which at
first hover near the surface of the water, rise slowly on the
strata of miasmatic air. Wishing to examine some object on
the sand-bar more closely, I stooped, when instantly, as if an
infinitesimal shower of red-hot sand or fine vitriol drops
had been dashed into my face and eyes, I felt them—blister-
ing against neck and bosom, up sleeves and pants, they at
once invested me in a maddening reality of the fabled terrors
of the shirt of Nessus! No imagination is sufficiently vivid
to.conceive the intensity of that keen-poisoned, stinging
nettle-rash with which we found ourselves suddenly assailed
by this invisible torturer from Acheron, rising to meet us on
its thick, pestilent airs. I did not know what it meant at
first, and, blinded with the pain, rushed with the instinct of
the cold water man, to plunge my face in the stream for
relief. This was, fortunately, the best thing I could have
done; and I now gasped out, “George! George! what is
it!” “The gnats, sir! the gnats—you had better put on
your veil !”’

I did so as quickly as possible ; and when I turned, there

ad

198 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

stood Piscator, with a wild look of endurance, earnestly
fighting away at his invisible torturers with a leafy bough
which he had plucked; his warm face glowed again with
the malignant ardor of their stings, and he stopped at
intervals in the fierce battle to rub his goaded limbs, and
fairly danced in the restless shifting of his feet. Suffering
as I was, or rather, had been, I could not help laughing at
the comical sight. But he did not regard me, and coolly
proceeded to stuff the legs of his pants down his boot-tops,
‘to protect himself from their assaults in that quarter; and
then turning up his coat collar, tied his handkerchief about
his ears, and soon, with recovered equinimaty, came smiling
to his seat in the boat, while the bough played yet faster
about his face. I could but wonder at the man. I watched
him in utter amaze; puzzled whether most to admire the
thickness of his skin or the immovability of his temper.
As soon as the boat was in motion they left us, for they
were drifted behind on air-currents in our wake.

We were soon at the wider mash meadows, which indicated
our approach to the outlet of Elm Lake, and here was the
ground where the night hunt was to commence. Darkness
had not not yet settled down, and until it came our lights
would be of no avail; so the oars were hid, and the boat
run through the mash to shore, and there we were to stand
until it became dark enough to light the candles!

We stood underneath the bordering pines, and as soon
as we became stationary—heavens and earth! the dusky air
thickened with the black and venomoys swarms of mosquitos,
flies and gnats, and the hungry diapason of their blistering
music was fairly roared into our ears! No herd of famished
wolves was ever so desperately ravenous as this fierce multi-
tude seemed to be—for as I was fully protected by my veil,
T could afford to be philosophical in my observations on the
suffering of the two outside unfortunates.

George was very loquacious, and having provided himself

A NIGHT HUNT UP THE CUNGAMUNCK. 499

with a thick bough, kept that in motion with his words;
for he seemed to have a desperate sort of feeling that he
must keep up our courage and his own by talking, or else
we would be compelled to give in! He amused us in this
trying interval with many stories of his bold adventuring
through these northern snows (a fortunate contrast!) in
hurting the dangerous moose. While Piscator puffed his
segar—patiently fought in open battle his myriad foes, and
smiled appreciatingly through his torture as the stories sped.
How I admired the superhuman heroism of the man!

I could not help enjoying the forlorn and» melancholy
efforts of the guide to be merry in his suffering. But the
night settled rapidly, though it brought no alleviation of the
plague of flies, which on warm evenings most abound after
sunset for some hours. Now George stepped cautiously to
the stern of the boat, and taking the candles from the box,
proceeded to light them and place them in the triangular
box on the staff at the bow. Then with great care we
noiselessly took our seats, and he paddled the boat with
surprising stillness up the outlet. Mine was the foremost
seat—as allotted—and though the light above shone power-
fully upon the shrubs and grass in front of us on the side
of the channel, yet not one ray of it fell upon me! So
with a far-thrown light before us, we glided in darkness up
the channel, seeing every blade of grass as we advanced,
while we were ourselves unseen! But the sky had now
clouded, and the white mist began to curl up before us, and
we only saw the.rank grass and elder bushes in advance as
it lifted at intervals.

We glided through the white-wreathed silence for awhile,
with the mash plants and grass showing through the gloom
on one side, and the tall shrubs on the other, when suddenly
there is a splashing to our right—the boat stops—splash !
splash! splash! off they go with ,a loud whistle as they
plunge away—two deer are gone! They had been frightened

500 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

‘by the incessant movement of our hands in striking off the
clinging flies !

George curses strong and deep, “sotto voce,” and we move
on into the lake without a word from us. Now we are
gliding along its marshy shore, and the only sound we make
is that caused by the low grating of the bottom of our boat
against the heavy leaves of the water-lilies, which cover the
whole surface as far as we can see, but that is not far. The
heavy mist-wreaths still curl up around us and arching to
our light, roll and spread their whitened volumes murkily.
The slow boat ploughs through these fantastic shapes as if
it labored with their weight; but now and then an eddy of
the mountain wind lifts them, whirling in broken masses,
and reveals the dark shadows of the forest on the shore,
with the shining flags that push up among the bordering
lilies. The night is becoming chill, and we have crept into
every cove and winding strait among the inlets along the
Shore, and still the same slow-rising vapor twists and rolls in
huge white phantoms, bushing past us; and, lifting in solemn
sweep upon the winds, the jaws of darkness open over
the broad water, as if on that side the abyss of black infinity
were yawning to engulph us. No deer yet, for they seem
to have been all startled by our first misadventure; we
should have seen a dozen eyes shine our light before this!
We are cold as cold can be, for much time has now passed,
and chilled, too, by the disappointment. Now we shoot
into a narrow cove between two islands. The long grass
and shrubs on either side nearly meet above our heads, we
must move with still greater caution lest we brush them.

Now the narrow way widens again somewhat, and we go
winding on, while our advance light dawns with a strange
gleam beneath the curling vapor upon the dense wall of leafy
stems on either side, and we seem urging up, among ghastly
clouds, the glistening stegp of night. It is a wild, unearthly
scene; we shudder with chilly awe, for the vast weight of

A NIGHT HUNT UP THE CUNGAMUNCK. 501 .

midnight has crushed the world, the wide and mighty
world, into that little circle of light with its wizard shapes,
‘thronging above and around us—all else is void—nothing!
nothing !

Ha! close to my hand a little summer duck comes swim-
ming. That looks as if there were an outer world—a
something beyond this wizzard chaos! See it comes close in
our charmed circle—it cannot get away. Its great black
eyes shine still, as if it were in a dream of dazzled splendors,
it does not see us, it moves as the sleep walker moves, round
and round, yet not away. There, I had nearly caught it
with my hand, but it glided like a beam-eyed shadow from
beneath my grasp. It seems as ghostly as all else here.

Hark! a splashing plunge in the deep marsh to our right,
that sounds like earth—like a reality!

“Hist!” says George, in a whisper, “rise up! rise softly,
he stands there—over the bushes—see his eyes !’’

“Steady, George.” I rise as carefully as my stiffened limbs
would permit, and now the mist-wreaths on an eddy of the
night-wind rise with me. Slowly! slowly! See the antlered
head above the cover and the shining eyes. A shrill, loud
whistle—I fire as he bounds—a heavy plunge—a struggle in
the tossing covert and all is still!

“Youve got him! you got him that time, sir!” shouted
George, and the sound of his human voice broke the spell
that was upon me, as of a heavy vision, and with a long
breath of suppressed excitement, I plunge after him to
assist in dragging our prey to the boat. It was a fine buck,
and I had shot him between the eyes. Ah, that was a
moment of cruel exultation, but I will not tell you how I
triumphed at the blank looks of poor Piscator, when, as he
took his seat now in front, we discovered that the lights
were nearly exhausted, and that there would be little chance
for him to get a shot at ali! The candles soon gave out,

502 WILD SCENES AND WILD -HUNTERS.

and we got lost upon the lake, where our bewildered guide
continued to row up and down until nearly daylight, through
the pitchy darkness; at last he found a landing by accident;
and, nearly frozen, we made our way to the house of a
hunter, whose kind hospitality gave rest to our weary and
chilled frames.

CHAPTER XXIII.
TROUTING ON JESSUP’S RIVER.

WE could not remain quiet long at a time, for my restless
friend had not yet had a fair trial of the “flies” at trout.
After all, laugh at Piscator’s violent passion for it as I
may, the sport which lasts longest, is the most abundant,
the most admired, and most practised by the frequenters of
the Lake country, is that of taking the speckled or brook
trout with the rod!

The larger lakes afford good trolling grounds, when resorted
to in the right season ; but the trolling season, which begins
in March, is too early for the majority of anglers, who cannot
leave their spring business for mere sport. But when summer
comes, business is over; then the rejoicing anglers, like chil-
dren broke loose, from school, scatter abroad over the moun-
tainous places of the land, literally gasping with panting
bosoms for fresh air.

To such it makes little difference, when they reach here,
to find that the fishing-grounds for trout are not close at
hand, but that they must go yet farther from five to thirty
miles, among the rough wild hills, to fresher streams, amidst
valleys deeper than these. It seems strange, to be sure, and
very provoking to them, if they go without a proper knowledge
of the season—to find that these wide clear sheets, with all
their inlets and outlets, are but so much dead water to them
—affording no sport after the tenth of June, worth notice.
But they are soon over this, for the mountain breezes are
very inspiriting ; and with expanding chests they look towards
the blue ridges with emulation, and brace themselves up tc

503

b04 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

meet the rude exigencies of a “tramp” and “shanteeing
out” for a few days, amidst storm or sunshine, as the evening
heavens may send !

“The Bridge” at Jessup’s River, is well known to sports-
men, and to this point we made our first fly-fishing expedition.
The eyes of Piscator glistened at the thought, and early was
he busied with almost hasty fingers through an hour of ardent
preparation amongst his varied and complicated tackle. Now
was his time for triumph! In all the ruder sports in which
we had heretofore been engaged, I, assisted by mere chance,
had been most successful—but now the infallible certainty of
skill and science were to be demonstrated in himself, and
the orthodoxy of flies vindicated to my unsophistic sense.

The preparations are simple, and were early completed.
The tidy housewife soon had ready the huge loaves of fresh
nice bread—the can of yellow butter, and other minor
appliances of a feast in the woods—the main condiments
and dishes of which we were expected to supply from our
own sharpened appetites and skill. Then the cooking appa-
ratus, which was primitive enough to suit the taste of an
ascetic, as it consisted in a single frying pan. Then the
blankets, with the guns, ammunition, rods, &c.

These were all disposed in the wagon of our host, which
stood ready at the door. It was a rough affair, with stiff
wooden springs, like all those of the country, and suited to
the mountainous roads they are intended to traverse, rather
than for civilized ideas of comfort. We, however, bounded
into the low-backed seat; and if it had been cushioned to suit
royalty, we could not have been more secure than we were
of luxurious comfort—a fanciful illusion which it took but
little time, however, to dissipate in an astound, as we found
ourselves rumbling, pitching, and jolting over a road even
worse than that which brought us first to the lake. It
seemed to me that nothing but the surprising docility of the
pretty span of glossy black ponies which drew us, could

TROUTING ON JESSUP’s RIVER. 505

have saved us, strong wagon and all, from a sudden return
to our original atoms. I soon got tired of this, and sprang
out with my gun, determined to foot it ahead, in the hope
of seeing a partridge or red squirrel.

The wagon, with its thundering rumble, was soon left
behind, and for several miles I tramped on alone through
the oppressive stillness of those old spruce and hemlock
forests, which line the road upon the hill-side and down steep
shaded valleys. It was then I observed the extraordinary
stillness, which I found characterized the woods there, in
whatever direction I had penetrated.

I wondered for some time what was the cause, and what
it was I missed so much, until I discovered the almost total
absence of the different varieties of squirrel. Then I under-
stood at once.

These creatures are the great enliveners of forest scenery,
and we unconsciously as much expect to hear them rattling
over the dry leaves—their rustling leap from bough to bough
—the pattering of nuts they are unhusking over head—their
saucy chattering and defiant bark—or to see their graceful
forms leap across the path—dart up and around the standing
trunks or along the dead logs, as we do, to see the trees
themselves, or hear the winds murmur through their leaves.
Every where, except in the tropics, they are ever-present
and more essential to the complete characteristics of forest
scenery, than even the birds themselves. This is particularly
the case at the north, where the varieties of the birds are
neither so abundantly musical or large as in the Middle
States. I never saw woods before through which you might
walk all day, from day to day, for weeks, and most probably
not see or hear the sound of a single squirrel.

I had spent much time in the woods, and had not been able
to reconcile myself to this strange want, which impressed me,
even before I heard the cause, with something like a funeral
desolation—with the shadow of a feeling like that which we

506 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

would have in walking through the echoing streets of a
plague-depopulated city. I was greatly surprised when I
found how analogous the case really was. On inquiring
among the old hunters, I heard from them the reason.

In the first place, the chickaree, or common red squirrel,
is the only one, except the little chip squirrel, they have
there at all as a resident variety—for although the gray
squirrel has occasionally made its appearance for a little
while, the black martin, which is very abundant, is said
to enter its hole and destroy it, before it has time to breed
much, while the hole of the chickaree is too small for it to
gain admittance. Well, about twenty years ago, the country
was literally overrun one summer by a plague of red squirrels,
curiously enough, too, accompanied by great numbers of the
little deer mouse or jumping mouse. The two united,
destroyed nearly the whole of the standing crops of grain,
and swarmed over the outhouses and even the dwelling-
houses themselves, and along the fences by the roadside,
and indeed through the woods every where. :

The people were alarmed by the apprehension of great
loss, and even a partial famine, when suddenly the curse
was swept away in a most singular manner. The squirrels
all at once began to act strangely; they were observed to
drag themselves slowly along the ground across the roads,
so that the people could crush them with their heels. Those
on the fences would mope and stagger along the railg, or
falling off, would be seen in dozens hanging by one claw,
until they dropped dead to the ground. They could be
killed by hundreds, with a small stick, and the very air
became impure with the stench of their dead bodies. On
examination, it was found they were literally covered over
their whole bodies witn warty and vermillion-tolored pustules,
which looked very foul and angry. The mice were visited .
in the same way, and nearly all, if not all, died off; since,
for several years after, not a creature of either kind was to

TROUTING ON JESSUP’S RIVER. 507

be seen, and to this day they have remained remarkably
scarce.

This story seemed very strange to me, but one day I shot
a young red squirrel, the first I had killed since I came—for
lack of opportunity—and I found it covered by this same
warty disease, which had been described as causing their
extermination so long ago. The pustules were quite small
upon it, and not so thickly placed as in the time of the
plague, when they were as large as a pea of good size, and
there was not the space of a pin’s head any where between
them! This accounts for their not having increased more
rapidly—since the fact shows that the disease continues to
linger with them, preventing, as I suppose, their arriving at
maturity, in the majority of cases.

But I have gone a good way aside from my theme to
narrate these curious facts, and must get back to the ‘Bridge’
again, at which we arrived about the middle of the afternoon.
There we found an old field just across the bridge. It was
called Wilcox’s Clearing, and like all such places I had seen
in this fine grazing region, was still well sodded down in
Timothy, blue grass, and clover. Our luggage having been
deposited in the shantee, which consisted nearly of boards
torn from the old house, which were leaned against the sides
of two forks, placed a few feet apart, we set off at once for
the Falls, a short distance above. This was merely an initial
trial, to obtain enough for dinner, and find the prognostics
of the next day’s sport in feeling the manner of the fish.

At the Falls the river is only about fifteen feet wide,
though its average width is from twenty-five to thirty. The
water tumbles over a ledge of about ten feet, at the bottom
of which is a fine hole, while on the surface sheets of foam
are whirled round and round upon the tormented eddies—for
the stream has considerable volume and power.

We stepped cautiously along the ledge, Piscator ahead, and
holding his precious flies ready for a cast, which was most

508 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

artistically made, not without a glance of triumphing pity at
poor me, who was preparing to do the same with the humble
angle-worm. The ‘flies’ fall—I see the glance of half a
dozen golden sides darting at them—but, by this time, my
own cast is made, and I am fully occupied with the struggles
of a fine trout.

What a thrilling sensation it is!—the bite of the first
trout !—renewed each season, too, in all the strength of
novelty, when you, perhaps, for the fiftieth time after the .
weary interval otherwise employed, feel again the electric
shock of its pull, communicated through your arm to all
your frame—the heart bounds as gladly, and the eyes gleam
in as wild an ecstacy of delight, for the moment, as on your
boyhood’s first capture. But the ‘black flies’ swarmed by
this time with such a wounding, maddening buzz into my
eyes, nostrils and mouth, behind my ears, and up my sleeves,
that no mortal enthusiasm could stand it any longer.

“ Here, George, in heaven’s name take my rod! My veil!
—where is it? I have forgotten it!”

“No, here it is—I thought of it!” and he drew it from
his bosom. How I blessed the fellow! It was on and
adjusted in an instant—and then I had time to draw a
long breath and look around me.

“Hey! seven trout. What, did I catch all those in this
little while?” I exclaimed, in a surprise not very compli-
mentary to Piscator’s ‘ flies.’

““T caught one of ’em!” growled he—while he persever-
ingly whipped the foam with his flies. I turned towards
him, and through my green veil his forlorn, despairing face
looked jaundiced. I was moved to pity.

“Try the worms, good Piscator—here they are. This is
not the right time of day for them to take the flies in this
river, I judge!”

He was soothed, and eagerly improving the door of escape
thus opened to him, took off the flies and used worms with

TROUTING ON JESSUP’S RIVER. 509

immediate and brilliant success, which brought back the
placid smile to his face, and he would now and then as
calmly brush away the distracting swarm of flies from his
face, as if they had been mere innocent motes. He had
only taken the one with his flies at the first instant of his
cast—and afterward, not a single trout would rise to them.
But later that evening came a temporary triumph for Piscator.
The hole at the Falls was soon exhausted, and we moved on
down to glean the ripples. It was nearly sundown, and here
the pertinacious Piscator determined to try the flies again.
He cast with three, and instantly struck two half-pound
trout, which, after a spirited play, he safely landed. Never
did I see so proud a look of exulting triumph as that which
glowed upon his as he bade me “look there!” when he landed
them.

“Very fine, Piscator! a capital feat! but I fear it was an
accident! You will not get any more that way!”

“We shall see, sir!” said he proudly, and commenced
whipping the water again, but to no avail, while I continued
throwing them out with great rapidity.

I carefully abstained from watching him, for I had no
desire to spoil his evening sport by taunting him, to continue
his experiment. I soon observed him throwing out the fish
with great spirit again. I merely shouted to him across the
stream—‘ The angle-worm, once more, Piscator ?”

“Yes!” with a laugh.

As the sun went down, the black gnats began to make
themselves felt in their smarting and infinitesimal myriads,
and we forthwith beat a hasty retreat to the shantee. These
creatures, which are the most diabolical pests that ever
haunted the air and water-side, are, J think, identical with
the sand fly in Texas—where it is the terror of all low, sandy,
bottom lands, and valleys below the sea range. It follows
the black fly, which is about half the size and a good deal the
shape of the common house fly. About an hour after its

510 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

appearance in the afternoon, and its coming is considered
the universal signal for retreat from the fishing grounds, as
no heroism, not even that of Piscator, could long withstand
their assaults.

We had taken about ten pounds of trout; and the first
procedure, after reaching the camp, was to build a ‘smudge,’
or smoke-fire, to drive away these abominable gnats, which
fortunately, take flight with the first whiff of smoke—and the
next was to prepare the fish for dinner, though not till all
had been carefully dressed by the guide, and placed in the
cold current of the little spring stream near, that they might
keep sound.

Now came the rousing fire, and soon some splendid trout
were piled upon dishes of fresh pealed elm bark before us.
They were very skillfully cooked, and O, ye deluded Epicu-
reans! let me tell ye! ye know not, on your rich and
massive plate, the true flavor of this rare morsel for the Gods
to smack their lips at, that I took up in my fingers from the
bark dish—no, the ripe, high color of the flesh—the sweet,
melting, luscious, glorious titillation of the palate by which I
was exalted there in that rude shantee, to the highest heaven
of the sense, you cannot know! The exquisite aroma has
passed away before it reaches you, fading with the splendid
colors of the skin, and ye cannot catch it! Not-all your
wealth can transport it in the season, delicious as we had it.
You can get them so in the winter, when it is cold enough to
freeze them instantly on coming from the water, but not
otherwise.

The feast being over, then to recline back upon the fresk
couch of soft spruce boughs, and with a cigar in mouth, watch
the gathering ‘night-shades’ brooding lower and more low
upon the thick wild forest in front—far into the depths of
which the leaping flames of our crackling fire go, darting
now and then with a revealing tongue of quick light—and
listening to the owl make hoarse answer to the wolf afar off

TROUTING ON JESSUP’S RIVER. §11

—to think of wild passages in a life of adventure years ago
amidst surroundings such as this; with the additional spice
of peril from savage and treacherous foes, and then, as the
hushed life subsides into a stiller mood, see the faces of loved
ones come to you through the darkness, with a smile from ou:
your distant home, and while it sinks sweetly on your heart,
subside into happy and dream-peopled slumber! “This! this
is bliss /”” the bliss of the shantee to the wearied sportsman !
a bliss unattainable to the sluggish and jaded gourmand of
the city !

We were on foot with the sun next morning, and after
another feast, which we appreciated with unpalled appetites,
we set off for some deep spring holes nearly a mile above the
Falls. The morning set cloudy, and rain fell piteously for
several hours. During this time we had reached the neigh-
borhood of the holes, after an abominably rough scramble
along the mountain side; and here George set to work to
construct a raft of the decayed spruce which stood around.
"This completed, it was launched with great labor into the
stream; and as the day was beginning to clear off, Piscator
so far conquered his horror of getting wet, as to agree to
start. We pulled noiselessly up to the spring hole, and
found it very deep, and quite large for the general size
of the stream.

The instant my hook was in the water, a fine trout was
hung, and even Piscator, who still persevered with the
flies, was successful the first cast, as usual. But as no
further notice was taken of the flies by the trout, and I
continued to pull out the noble fellows as fast as I could
throw my hook in, he changed very quickly again to the
worm. The sport was now magnificent, and all the time,
one line or the other was singing through the deep water to
the struggles of a trout, and often both at the same time.
We found the raft very convenient, for having no landing

512 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

net, while they were playing vigorously, we would take them
on @ spring upward through the water, and by a quick move-
ment, adding to their impetus, would land them on the raft.
We took several of that most splendidly beautiful of all trout,
the “‘red bellied”—for their bellies are as if of burnished
gold, heated to a red heat, while the spots upon their sides
fairly glitter, while their fins are black, bordered with white.

The moment they were hooked, we could see their sides
flash up from the depths of the hole like the gleam of an
angry blaze, and they shot like fiery meteors through the
air as they leaped from it. We moved on slowly down the
stream with our raft, after they ceased to bite here, and took
from one to two and four pounds from every hole we passed,
until I became weary of the sport, and even Piscator con-
fessed himself for once to have had enough of trout fishing.
The time had come for our return home, and now the inter-
minable rain set in again more violently than ever, and our
guide, who had fifty pounds of trout upon his shoulder,
shrank from clambering back over the mountain with such a
burden, and we landed on the opposite side of the river, to
return by a new and longer though more level route.

Of all the dismal and exhausting walks ever taken, this
seemed to me the most so. A violent west wind had set in,
dashing on its cold current the colder rain into our faces.
We were chilled and wet in an instant after starting. Much
of the way led through a deep tangle of elder and raspberry
bushes, which were as high as our heads, and bent with the
burden of icy rain drops. So this gave us a double bath.
We managed—or, our guide did for us!—to get lost in the
bargain; had five miles to ‘tramp through the thick pine
woods, plunging through swamps, and stumbling into deep
holes, over roots, dead trees, and rocks. There was one
comfort before us, at least, the prospect that we should find
our host waiting for us at the bridge with the wagon.

TROUTING ON JESSUP’S RIVER. 513

On we staggered bravely—splash! splash! drip! drip.
Above us, under, and on every side, the gelid rain! As ig
an incessant shower bath, far more exhausting than a pro-
tracted plunge—so was this wading through wet bushes
beneath the pitiless pelting rain. I am sure that it abstracted
a greater amount of vital heat and strength from us than
wading the same length of time in cold water would have
done. At least I never remember to have been more utterly
exhausted than when we reached the bridge, and found, to
our great joy, the wagon in waiting.

Fortunately, our host had been prudent enough to bring
blankets with him, and wrapping our shivering bodies in
these, we hurried off on our return. It was no use going
to our shantee for comfort—the fire was out, and the rain
had set in for a week to come, and it was a poor affair at
best. Though it was a break-neck road, I urged him with
chattering teeth, to drive faster; but the immovable Piscator
quietly suggested that I should “take it easy!” I stared at
the man, for I was excessively nervous and irritable, politely
wishing him in a warmer place with his philosophy. He only
laughed, and as that made me still more angry, I was soon
nearly warmed up again.

Strange as the remedy may seem to those who are not
familiar with the miracles of bathing, I took forthwith a bath
of very cold water on reaching home. This warmed me
instantly and thoroughly, and then the flesh brush and dry
clothes completed the magical process of immediate transfer
from the arctic to the tropics, which my sensations underwent,
without the aid of fire or sun.

I never felt more delightfully than I did when I sat down
to a fine dinner that evening in the old Tavern, and very
much of this pleasurable feeling of entire comfort I attributed
to the prompt use of the cold bath. I have mentioned
Piscator’s hydrophobia, so i be the external application of

514 ILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

cold water was concerned, and the fact, that when we met
at table, he appeared, in spite of his philosophy, far from
refreshed or cheerful, 1 could not help attributing it to
his neglect of this precaution. Poor Piscator, with all his
puisance in ‘flies,’ his appetite for that delicious trout dinner
failed him.

CHAPTER XXIV.

ANECDOTES OF MOOSE AND DEER HUNTING AMONG THE
NORTHERN LAKES.

I wave already furnished a description of two modes of
hunting deer, practised in the lake country; one by driving
them into the lake, the other, by candle light on the marsh.
These are methods almost peculiar to this Ariondack region,
while there are several more which they practice there, in
common with many other parts, such as driving on the
“run-ways’’—still-hunting, and hunting on the “crust” with
snow-shoes.

Deer are so surprisingly abundant, that it is worth while

515

516 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to know something of the how, the wherefore and the when
of all these methods—for nothing is more certain than that
you,can get this game, and an abundance of it, if you only
go at the right time, and seek it in the right way. °

The two favorite methods of taking deer are running them
into the lake, and hunting them on the crust—the first for
summer and fall, the other for winter, of course.

The proper time for the first method is about the beginning
of September—when the down is off their horns, and they
are getting into the “blue coat.” That is—the season may
be said to be then commenced, for, of course, the deer are
improving every day. In three weeks more they will be
“seal fat,” and will take to the water almost as soon as you
start them. This sport continues until the lakes freeze over,
when bunting on the crust takes its place.

Driving on the run-ways is not much practiced here, for
the run-ways are so numerous that it requires a large company
to man them all, which must be done in most instances to
insure sport, since it is next to impossible to tell through
which of them all the deer will pass a second time.

But as I could at any time start a deer within half a mile
of where I then quartered, at a rude farm house near a small
lake, and that within the hour, too, by the help of the old
hound, Ring, it is not to be wondered at that I have several
times succeeded, with all the uncertainty, in getting a deer
on the run-way. None but a native, with his fly-proof skin,
can ever do much at ‘still hunting” here, so long as the,
warm weather lasta,—for as the whole success of this hunt
depends upon your preserving the most perfect and statue-like
stillness, it requires a test of heroism which I could never
biing myself up to meet. It is easy enough to find where
the deer are, and even to catch a glimpse of them or hear
them as they run off, but your hands must be going so
incessantly, for the protection of your excoriated face and
neck, that the wary and keen-sighted creatures are almost

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 517

sure to see,you first, and then you only get whistled at by
them for your pains!

So that, after trying every other mode of summer and fall
hunting, you are compelled to fall back upon the lakes at
last. Round Lake and Pleasant used to be famous for this
hunt, but they have fallen greatly into disrepute now; though
it is still very easy any warm morning to drive a deer into
this end of Lake Pleasant, as I have found by repeated
experiments.

However, there are other lakes at hand where the sport
is much more exciting and sure. Whittaker Lake is now
more resorted to, and that, too, with more surprising success,
than any other nearer than Louis Lake. It always has been,
and must continue, so long as there are any deer in the
country, to be the favorite place of refuge for them, on account
of its peculiar conformation. Its two islands, and the many
narrow coves for which it is peculiar, offer many facilities
for ready escape, by losing the dogs. In this hunt there
should generally be at least two boats on the lake. This
is particularly necessary at Whittaker, where there were
formerly two boats. To give some idea of the method of
conducting this hunt, practiced by the natives here, each
of whom is a good oarsman of course, I will give an outline
of what three men accomplished in a single day’s hunt.

Three is the proper number to act without mutual embar-
rassment, two to man the boats and one to “put out” the
dogs. This party had two dogs, one of which was remarkably
sagacious and well trained. They shanteed on the shore
the over night, and the dogs were put out by sunrise in
the morning.

The two boatmen, or rather one in a boat and the other in
a small canoe, took position; the boat hid in the grass of the
marsh at one end, and the canoe under the alders at the
point of one of the islands. In a very short time a large
buck came splashing through the marsh in a terrible panic,

518 WILD) SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

and nearly ran over the man in the boat, who shot him before
he reached the deep water. The dogs were then put out
again, and before ten o’clock they brought another deer
down to the water—but this fellow skulked, swam across a
narrow cove, and made off again. He did not return to this
lake, which is very unusual, but made off to another, iJm
Lake, three miles distant. The dogs were not reclaimed
until noon. After feeding and a short rest, they were put
out for a third race, and in a little while drove in a third
deer, which struck out for the widest part of the lake.

Both hunters started in pursuit; the oarsman cut it off
from land, and the boatsman, who was furnished with a long,
forked stick, across the prongs of which a slip-noose of rope
was tied, now came up by the side of the swimming deer,
and threw the rope over its head. It plunged very violently,
but in spite of its struggles he pushed its head under water
with the assistance of the fork, and soon drowned it. This
was a fine doe.

The dogs were again put out, and after a long race brought
in a yearling spike buck. It came to the water twice, but
as it had the wind of the two hunters, both times it turned
and went out. It came at last on the opposite side, and
struck right out for the open water. The canoe man did
not succeed in cutting it off this time, and it reached one
of the islands. The boatman shot at.it as it was going out,
and missed.

They then took a position on each side to prevent its
escape, while “Old Sound,” who had reached the shore, and
comprehended in a moment how matters were, swam to the
island and soon routed the little buck, which now attempted
to reach the second island. The man in the canoe cut it
off this time, and darting up alongside of it as it swam,
seized it by its short horns, and drawing its head back, cut
its throat. :

But the bcatman in the meantime had his hands full as

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING, 519

well. He had not time to load his gun or see what became
of the young buck, for the other dog had brought down an
enormous old buck, which took water at the same time near
him. He lay still and let it swim out some distance, and
then gave chase. He was soon up with him in wide water,
and attempted to throw the noose over its horns. The buck
showed fight, and striking up, suddenly knocked the stick
from his grasp. Then, with stiffened bristles, and a hoarse
low of wrath, it raised itself in the water, and planted its
fore-feet on the side of the boat.

The man was too old a hunter to be mach alarmed, though
the deer seemed determined to turn the boat over or get in.
The gun was empty, as we have said, but these men always
throw a stout club of heavy green wood into the bottom of
the boat to provide against contingencies such as these:
ingeed, they frequently take nothing else with them, as this
is usually sufficient to kill any deer. A rapping blow across
the head with this club caused the buck to drop back into
the water, with his courage considerably cooled.

However, it soon renewed the fight, and as it caught most
of the blows aimed at its head upon its immense horns, the
man found he had both a tough and a dangerous job before
him. The deer, in the meantime, was making gradually for
the shore, and the hunter saw that it would effect its escape
at last, if he continued to fight—so he directed all his efforts
to turning it off from shore, shouting at the same time to his
comrade for help. He was nearly worn out with fatigue,
and had received several severe blows from the horns c’
the deer, when his friend came to his assistance and ek it
it through the head.

It was now nearly dark, and with four deer as the result
of one day’s sport, they returned perfectly satisfied, as well
as worn out, to their shantee for the night. This day’s
work, though an unusually successful one, will stand in its
modes and incidents, for a pretty fair epitome of the sport

520 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

of “driving deer into the lake!” The Piseco Club boast
of having noosed a buck and taken him a prisoner to shore,
and tied him up to a tree. But this is a feat very easy of
accomplishment, so far as noosing the deer is concerned;
though, I suppose, no one else would fancy the troublesome
and useless job of getting the animal out of the water alive.

The boatman often takes the deer by the tail, and makes
it draw the boat; and I know of instances where the perilous
feat of seizing a buck by the horns, and holding its head
under water until drowned, has been performed. But such
feats as this last are as rare as they are unwise. The most
amusing instance I have heard, though, of these attempts
to capture a grown animal, is furnished in that which was
made by a party of sagacious hunters in this neighborhood,
a winter ago, to take an old bull moose alive with ropes.
As this leaves the feat of the Piseco Club far in the pate)
I am tempted to give it.

Some lucky hunter had lately succeeded in capturing a
couple of moose alive, and had sold them to a menagerie
company for a round sum. This set all the hunters in a
furor to capture live moose. The yard of a famous large
bull having been discovered by a half-breed Indian hunter,
he was accompanied by several of the hunters about Lake
Pleasant, on a grand turn-out to make the attempt. upon this
fellow. The snow was very deep, and the moose was soon
brought to a stand by the men on their snow-shoes. When
they came up, they found he had backed himself into a
strong position, with the roots of a torn-up tree in his rear,
on one side, and a great shelving rock on the other. He
was an enormous fellow, and they proceeded te mnake their
demonstrations with most respectful caution.

One of the party ascended the trunk of the inclining tree
from his rear, and climbing thence on to the shelving rock
above, from, as he supposed, a very safe elevation, succeeded
in throwing a rope-noose over one of its spreading antlers.

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. §21

Anothet adventurer, more daring than the first, took up
a position on the trunk of a fallen tree, almost touching
the flanks of the animal wth his feet, and reaching over
dropped a second rope upon its horns, and was proceeding
tr:umphantly to give it a turn around the trunk, thinking
they had it all safe now. The creature shook its head, and
making a sudden plunge forward, jerked the men headfore-
most from both rocky shelf and log, snapping their nooses.
They fell against the hinder parts of the moose; but as those
in front, seeing their danger, made a great clamor at the
moment, the animal did not notice them; though, as it
retreated back to its strong position, it trampled upon their
prostrate forms with its hind feet. The fellows yelled to
them to shoot, but as they had irritated the moose in front, it
mad a dash at them again, and they crawled out considerably
bruised. Not discouraged by any means, as yet, another
of the party succeeded in getting hold of the end of the
broken rope, and this was immediately secured to a limb
of the fallen tree once more.

They now thought they were certain to triumph, as they
roped its horns more securely than before, and proceeded to
throw slip-nooses among its feet, in the hope that it might
step into them, and that they would then be able to throw it.
It was very wary of the ropes. They thus caught one foot
only, after worrying the whole day with the creature, and
getting several of the party even more severely hurt. But
when the hunter who had this rope, and who was standing
lirectly in front of the infuriated animal, attempted to jerk
the foot from under it, it made one tremendous surge at him,
snapped the rope about its horns, and tossed him into the air
some ten feet on its broad, snow-shoveling antlers—while the
second hero of the ropes on the log had his legs jerked from
under him, and fell as the first had fallen. There was a
frightened scattering of the whole party this time in earnest,
while the moose, with bristling sulkin:ss, retreated again to

§22. WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

148 old-position. The bruised and crippled hunter who had
been thus summarily tossed, seized his gun, limped up close
to the moose, and shot it dead in his rage, just as if he had
any right to have expected any other treatment for his folly.

This party was thoroughly satisfied with their single experi-
ment, and have very safely promised their anxious mothers
and sweethearts, never to make another such.

But crust hunting is by far the most destructive method
of pursuing the deer known in this region. The deer form
“yards” on the bleak northern sides of the mountains, and
the e are sometimes five or six miles in extent, and containing
s great number of deer. They have deep roads or paths
leading in every direction, through the snow, and will never
leave these unless forced by the dog to do so. The deer
seldom runs far, but stops to fight until the hunter comes
up and kills it with his rifle, and sometimes with a club
or axe.

There is a well authenticated instance in illustration, that
I will relate. My guide has been a famous hunter in his
day. When he was about sixteen his father lived upon «¢ high
hill, in sight of my shantee. In a valley half a milo from
the hut, he had a small sugar camp. One bright morning,
early in March, when a slight snow had fallen over night,
upon the old crust, which was thin and melted through
in places, Clark, who was a stout yvuth, started to the
sugar camp to clean and set the troughs, as it promised to
be a fine day for the sap to run. He said he would be back
in time for breakfast, and followed by a noble hound, he was
soon out of sight.

‘rhe family waited and, waited in vain for his return, until
noon, when his father, overcome by uneasiness, started in
pursuit of the bny—for knowing that he had no kind of
weapon, noi even a pocket-knife, with him, he could not
but fear that some accident had happened. He met him
returning, panting up the hill.

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 523

“Why, Clark! what in the name of wonder has been
keeping you all the morning ?” :

“T got myself into business, and had it to attend to}; I’ve:
been killing deer !”

“Killing deer? What, did you gouge their eyes out?
you'r got nothing about you to kill deer with.”

“ But I found a spruce knot that answered !”

The boy then went on to relate how he had found the
tracks of four deer that had come into the sugar camp.
The dog pursued them. It should be explained that the
spring thaw had commenced, and the snow was nearly melted
down, except under the shade of the deep woods, where it
was as deep as ever, and the crust so thin that the deer went
through easily. So soon as they came to the deep snow the
dog stopped one. The boy followed along, and where the
snow had thawed he found an old spruce log of great size,
which had fallen into decay and left the knots of the limbs,
which run back clear into the heart, round as ever and heavy
almost as-iron. Clark snatched up one of these, and when
he came in sight the dog immediately seized the deer and
dragged it down on the snow. Clark came up with his knot-
club and knocked it on the head. They then followed on
again, and in a short time came up with another, which was.
served in the same way, and a third also.

The fourth got to the Cungamunck river, and plunged into
a small hole through the ice. The dog would follow on the
ice as it swam round and round, and watching an opportunity,
neize the deer by the nose, and pulling back with all his
might, endeavor to drag it out. The deer would place its
fore feet against the ice and resist this proceeding, until
Clark came up at last, and for fear his dog might be dragged
in and get under the ice, he ended the pulling match by
knocking the deer on the head.

This was a pretty fair morning’s work for a youth without
arms of any kind, but those nature had given him. This

524 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

same dug, “Old Sound,” met with a great many adventures
in his day. One of these is worth relating. His master,
with two other men, were out deer hunting in snow shoes,
and on the side of Dug Mountain the dog started three
deer. They followed on, and soon killed two of them; the
other, a fine young three-year old buck, showed himself to
be, as the old man said, “the cunningest deer I ever see’d !”
There is a tremendous ledge on the side of this mountain,
which gives it its name, for it is bare of earth and almost
perpendicular, and looks as if it had been “dug” down the
face. : ;

The deer was in full view, and commenced climbing up
along the edge of this ledge to escape from the dog, who,
when he came up, in vain essayed the same feat. After
falling back several times, in the effort to follow the deer,
the sagacious creature gave it up, and followed along: tho
foot of the ledge to the other side. The deer looked as if he
must fall from its airy perch every instant, and they expected
to see it dashed to pieces; but it descended in safety, to be
met by the dog on the other side. There the chase was
renewed until the old man knew, by the manner of his bark,
that the dog had brought it to bay. The three hunters now
endeavored to outstrip each other in getting to the deer; but
the others, not being accustomed to snow shoes, got theirs
entangled, in their hurry, and fell. The old man came up
in sight of the deer alone.

He had followed the tracks in the snow, and to his great
surprise had not heard the dog bark for some time. There
stood the deer in the snow, bolt upright, with its feet gathered
up under it, and with bristles raised as if for a spring, but it
remained perfectly still, eyeing the approaching hunter.

“There’s the deer,” he said to himself, “but where’s my
dog? I can’t see him any where!” But the first thing to
be done was to shoot the deer—which he did. The animal
fell over in the snow, and to his great astonishment, the dog

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 525

bounded up from beneath its feet, shaking the snow from his
hair.

Old Sound looked rather humiliated, and seating himself
a little distance off, gazed upon his dying conqueror in
demure silence. ‘The cunningest deer” having been baffled
in an extraordinary effort to get rid of its noisy foe, had
adopted the curious expedient of first beating him down in
the snow with its fore-paws, and then deliberately standing
on his prostrate body. Deer do some ugly things of this
kind occasionally. One of the neighboring hunters, who
was passing through the woods on the crust, without any
weapon but his pocket-knife, came upon three deer, one of
which was an immense buck.

The buck eyed the man as he came up, until he was within
a few yards of him, and then made right at him with his hair
turned the wrong way. He knocked the man down in the
snow, and commenced very deliberately stamping him to
death. He kept it up until the man lay still, and then he
would step off a little distance and turn to look at his victim.
If the man moved, he would plunge upon him again and give
him another pounding, until he was content to lie still. This
came had been repeated several times; and the man, whose
strength was fast going, felt that he would soon be killed
if he could not get out of this scrape in some way—for even
if he laid still the deer showed no disposition to leave him,
and he must freeze to death soon in his cold bed. He now
for the first time bethought him of his knife, and at the
expense of another pounding, got his hand into the pocket.

The deer stood off a little distance watching him; but
when he had secured the knife, and managed to work it
open with one hand, he made a movement by kicking up the
snow with his feet. The buck was on him in an instant, as
usual, and the man, urged now to despair, rose upon his
elbow, and making three or four savage cuts upwards with
his knife, succeeded in reaching the vitals of the buck who

.§26 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

staggered off a few paces and fell dead upon the snow with
all its entrails let out. The man got home with great diffi-
culty and was laid up for some time after with his hurts.
This was a lesson he never forgot, and always took a gun
with him afterwards when he went into the woods on a crust.

Piscator and I having determined on a trip to the famous
Whittaker Lake, we set off on a fine morning before sunrise,
and on foot, accompanied by two guides and as many dogs,
-well trained to this lake hunting. The morning proved to
.be especially warm, and one of the guides most expressively
characterized it, as we passed up the southern side of a long
hill—

“Tswow! but it’s a yaller day!’ was gasped out by the
fellow.

I laughed heartily, and thought that might “pass.” The
little oxen performed miracles in dragging the sled with our
boat on it through the inconceivably rugged and tangled
-woods, to the lake. The two guides went ahead to open
the way. We reached the margin between twelve and one.
When I reached the gap of the forest, which gave us an
‘outlook over the lake—for I was some little distance ahead
—imagine my astonishment at seeing four or five deer
leisurely feeding on the edge of the water, on the opposite.
shore. My first hasty impulse was to fire my rifle at them,
they seemed so close; but then I remembered, and was at
the same time reminded by the guide who followed, that
the lake was nearly half a mile wide. The deer had not
observed or heard us, since we had approached as quietly
as possible.

I stood and watched for some time the graceful and
unconscious creatures leisurely cropping the lily leaves and
buds that lay upon the surface of the calm lake. What a
shame it seemed that we had thus come to disturb and rouse,
,with a bloody reveille, this happy quiet. They seemed, in
their hill-girt home, to be utterly ignorant of man’s harshness

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 527

in the world, and the old buck tossed his antlered head, as
proudly as if he were sole monarch of these wilds. They
were in view, feeding and sporting along the water of the
‘edge for a full half hour.

It would have been a lesson for those “budge doctors of
the stoic fur,” of whom my friend Piscator is an emulous
‘disciple, to have witnessed the elate and eager longing of
the smile which radiated from his face while he gazed upon
this tranquil scene. His double-barrel quivered in his grasp
with the excitement, and his round, red lips looked watery.
With such a sight before us, you may rest assured there was
no time lost in dispatching our “bite” of a dinner, prepara-
tory for work. The boat was now quickly launched, and
the moment it touched the water, loud and unearthly cries,
deafening and sonorous, rose from every part of the lake.
I looked around in astonishment, and the eyes of Piscator
sought mine with something of a wild flaring in them, but
the guides smiled.

“‘Them’s the loons!” said George.

Two or three of them now swam out from the point of the
nearest island, and curiously approached us. I saw at once
that it was the loon, or northern diver; one of the most
beautifully marked of all the water-fowl. They properly
resented our intrusion upon their lovely and secluded breed-
ing-places, of which they evidently had not been conscious
until the splash of launching our boat upon their favorite
element conveyed to them, through some mysterious medium
of sympathy, the warning of our dangerous approaches.
Their cry is strangely human, and yet inhuman; too, and
there is a wild and mournful quaver in it, such as I have
always observed to be peculiar to birds which frequent
desolate and solitary places. There is a strange and harmo-
nious fitness in this which never struck me so forcibly at
any other time, as during our stay at this lonely place.

Lotden, the “yaller-day” man, who was to put out the

528 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

dogs to drive the deer, was first taken across the lake with
his two dogs, and landed. George, who was now beginning
to develope new traits, which we afterwards found rather
characteristic of the professional guide among the lakes,
then brought back the boat for us. There were two islands
in the lake, a mile and a half long, and we were to stand
upon .he larger one. At least, so Master George insisted.
He, in the boat, alone, was to undertake to drive the accomo-
dating deer that might swim into the lake, along up to us, to
be shot. A delectable plan, truly! We were to stand, like
two innocents, on the island, to enjoy the sport of seeing
our guide chase and capture all the deer that came in. I
instantly perceived that this was one of the knavish tricks
of the guide, who, having in some such way laid the trouble-
some sportsman on the shelf, quietly monopolizes all the fun
to himself. I now began to obtain some insight into this
same Master George, in whom I fondly hoped I had found that
paragon—an honest guide. I would not stand this impudent
trick, of course, since I paid the fellow for ministering to my
amusement, not his own. ‘The pretence was, that the boat,
with two in it, would be too much freighted for the swift
rowing necessary for overtaking the deer. And good, easy
Piscator, eager as he was to retrieve his lost ground, and
immortalize himself in the world of his own self-content, by
_killing the first deer, would insist that George must be right,
as it was his business to know better than we.

I insisted that he did not know better, and that it was
sheer knavery in him, and so indignantly urged it, that
Piscator was persuaded at last; and as I surrendered the
first chance to him —he was to take his seat first in the boat
I now left them,-and took my stand on the other end of the
island. Soon all was perfect silence again, broken only at
intervals by the clarion-like whoop of the troubled loons I
watched two of them, which, as I lay upon the moss, could see
me only indistinctly, and urged by their strong curiosity,

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 529

swam back and forth, each time coming slowly nearer me,
until they were so close that I could see the shine of their
dark eyes, and the white rings about their necks.

Soon the dogs open musically on, far up on the deep-

. wooded side of Dug Mountain. It is a short and spirited
race, and while I lie abstractedly tracing the reverberations
of their voices among the mountains—a splash! My heart
leaps. There! The deer has taken water at the southern
end of the lake. See, he-swims already! It’s a noble fellow!
Ha! he is not coming for the open water! We shan’t get
him! He swims across that narrow cove—now he’s out!
See him shake the drops from his tawny hair, as he walks
deliberately into the woods again !

There come the dogs! Old Turk, with his face half white
and black, stands upon the shore an instant, snuffing over
the water. In he plunges! What a bold and rapid swimmer!
He swims out into the lake towards us. The trick has told
—he has lost the deer. George puts out in the boat to meet
him. He takes him in and rows towards where the buck
went out. He has nearly reached the shore—the dog stands
with his fore paws on the edge of the boat, snuffing the air.
There! he plunges—he has caught the scent again, and
away he goes, with eager yells, on the track.

He is off, and Master George does not return to us with
the boat. The rascal is out of our reach, and is determined
now, in spite of me, to carry out his purpose. Knowing
that he can invent some excuse which will satisfy Piscator, I
swallow my anger; for this is his chance, and if he chooses
to lose it, well and good. In half an hour the deer is back,
takes the water on the other side of the lake, and makes for
the second island. Master George is off, and pulling with
his best might and skill to cut the deer off from the shore.
He has started too soon; the deer has seen him, and turns.
They both disappear behind the point of the island.

The audacious rascal! One of us should have been in that
34

530 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

boat. The deer will be lost, for the gun he has is worthless.
In a moment we hear the gun, and then all is silent for
nearly half an hour. He has probably shot the deer. A
pretty business this! We paying this impudent fellow to
take the deer from under our very noses. I was greatly
enraged, and it was well he did not make his appearance
soon. But the other dog has started now. A noisy and
exciting chase to and fro along the shore woods. After
awhile, who should make his appearance but Master George
again, shouting at the top of his voice, as he turned a point
of the island, with some small object swimming in the water
before him—

“‘Here’s your deer! Here’s your deer!”

“The devil it is!’ I exclaimed, for I had now rejoined
Piscator. ‘“ That’s no deer. It looks more like a rabbit or
musk-rat.”

“Come along down shore and shoot it; its a fawn,”
shouted our redoubtable boatman.

“Why, you rascal, I don’t want to hurt that little
creature! Take it alive!” I shouted.

The fellow felt he had his peace to make, and accordingly
did his best to take the fawn alive. In his efforts to accom-
plish this, a most ludicrous and amusing scene occurred.
The dog Turk, who had lost the trail of his deer at the
water, then joined in the chase after the fawn, and now
came swimming boldly out after it. George had seized the
active little creature by the hind feet, and was endeavoring
to drag it into the boat. He had nearly succeeded, when
Turk leaped half way out of the water and upon the back
of the bleating fawn. George must release his hold to fight
off the dog, and now the struggle commenced. The fierce
and headstrong Turk, as in duty bound, is determined to
kill the game, and George that he shall not. While these
two are struggling, the poor little fawn would make some
headway, then George would be compelled to take up his

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 581

oars. The boat would shoot alongside again, and he would
seize it by the ears or tail to have the same scene over
again, for Turk was on hand to drag it back into the water,
when he had lifted it partly out. George became furious at
last, and his half-frantic, half-despairing screams of—

“You Turk! Get away, Turk! Begone Turk!” mingled
with the bleating of the fawn and the angry barking of the
dog, and the splash and sputtering of the watery strife, pro-
duced a combination of sounds and scene so irresistibly comic,
that I sunk to the very earth with peal upon peal of unre-
strainable and almost hysterical laughter; for I enjoyed so
immensely the agony of George, that I had no time to think
of that of the poor little fawn.

At last this ludicrous contest came to a crisis. The fawn
had all this time been making for the shore, and now it, had
struck shallow water, and was about to make its escape, when
George seized his gun and shot it through the head. I had
rather the blood of this little spotted thing had been on his
conscience than mine, and to do him justice, he seemed very
sorry for it afterwards. It turned out that the fellow had
missed the deer after all, and let it escape. I now peremp-
torily put a stop to that favorite joke of his—going alone—
and as Piscator had lost his chance, went into the boat
myself. I was still angry, but I had not the heart to abuse
him after affording me so hearty a laugh.

It was late, but the dogs made another start, and after
a short race, a fine young buck entered the water, and instead
of swimming, attempted, as the others had, to skulk along
the shore. We knew he was lying down, for we should have
seen his whole body, had he been standing up in the shallow
marsh. We watched in silence to see what the next maneuvre
would be when the dog came up, when suddenly a gun
exploded from the woods on shore, the deer rose, and with
a long bound, made for the shore. It was out of our rifle
range, but I could not resist the inclination, and sent a ball

532 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

after him as he went into the bush. It was the presuming
guide who put out the dogs. He did not see us as we lay
concealed in the grass, and had fired at the deer. The dogs
came up, we put them on the track, and they went off
splendidly.

It was not more than a minute, and we all three stood in
open view upon a log, upon which we had run the boat, when
the deer came in again at precisely the same place. We
stood still as if suddenly congealed—I with my rod half-
driven home; it came cautiously into the water at first, but
did not seem to have noticed us, as is always the case if you
are perfectly motionless. At last it struck across the lake; we
waited until it was too far from shore to turn back.—‘‘ Now!”
I sprang into the boat, which George pushed off at the same
moment, and we darted through the water. We soon closed
upon the deer, which commenced bleating as we approached,
and it saw that capture was sure—but yonder came the dogs
swimming out to us. We must make quick work of it. ie

“ Shoot !””

I fired a ball into its head, and as it was going down,
George seized it by its hind legs, and drew it into the boat.
The weather now becoming unfavorable for the continuation
of our sport, we concluded to break up our shantee the next
day, and dismissing our worthless guide, we pushed on some
six miles further, through the mountains to the north, to
Louis Lake, where we purposed spending a week in hunting
and fishing at the shantee of “‘Old Sturge.” His two boys,
who were fifteen and sixteen years old, officiating as our
guides.

This is the most picturesque and loveliest of all the lakes;
and here we had abundant sport. The boys were extraordi-
nary specimens of the Wild Turkey breed of natural-born
hunters, and proved to be admirable guides. These youths
had been in the habit of walking since their early childhood
the most incredible distances, in these wild mountains, and

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 533

entirely alone. They were equally at home every where, ag
much so as the wild deer they hunted.

Old Sturge himself is a ‘case’ for any country. He will
walk forty miles a day with as little trouble as a dandy would
feel it to be promenading from the Astor to the Broadway
hotel; and ‘Sturge’ will have the advantage in that, though
he only carries a pack on his shoulders of sixty or eighty
pounds dead weight, the dandy is burdened with an unappre-
ciable quantity of live brass. He goes in and out to‘his
favorite Lake twice a day, something as if it were “only
cross the way.”’ He is a helter-skelter, harum-scarum, good-
uatured, headlong fellow, who is forever blundering into the
most ludicrous scrapes with wild animals, and yet has man-
hood enough to come out right end up usually.

He always has a number of traps set near the Lake. He
was coming in one morning with one or two old hunters, and
passing by a trap on the way, found a large bear caught by
the hind-leg. Without waiting to shoot the creature, or
indeed thinking at all of it, he rushed upon it with his knife
to cut its throat. Bruin of course met him with the hug
fraternal, and then commenced between them a desperate
struggle. His comrades were too much paralyzed with
laughter to come to his help, and before he succeeded in
despatching the bear with his knife, his clothing had all been
stripped off, and himself badly torn and bruised.

Nobody on the face of the earth but ‘Old Sturge,’ would
ever have dreamed of doing such a stupidly reckless thing ;
but this is only one out of many such madcap capers. How-
ever, he is pioneering a settlement to Louis Lake most
effectively, by taking there a large family of children—most
of them boys, and as hardy as young partridges. He intends
‘to keep a corner of the shantee for sportsmen, who prefer
Louis Lake, and the tough, wiry old fellow will hold himself
in readiness to carry them astride his shoulders—if they desire
it—thirty miles further into the wilderness.

584 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

There is an amusing story told of Old Sturge’s first inter-
view with a moose, which is worth giving before we dismiss
him. It was soon after he came to the country from ‘down
east,’ and when he was somewhat green upon the subject of
‘wild varmints’ in general.

Some one had shown him how to set his traps at Louis
Lake, and one morning when he went to visit them, rifle in
hand, he saw a huge black beast lying in the place of one
of his traps. He said he thought it was the Old Harry
himself, with a bundle of pitchforks, and iron-wooden shovels
on his head—but though mortally frightened, and very much
disposed to run back home, he concluded finally, that to save
his manhood he must take a shot at it ally how. It had not
seen him, and he was quite close, so he blazed away. Whether
he shut his eyes or not, he does not know, but the creature
paid no attention to him, and did not even turn its head.

Finding himself alive after this desperate venture, he took
courage, hid behind a tree, and loaded again. He fired
again with the same result. He began now to think that
it surely bore a charmed life, and said that when he
looked along the barrel at it, it grew as large as a meeting
house, and that when in spite of his fear he aimed right at
the middle of this great pile, the ball would go clear through,
and it would close up again. He says he got madder and
madder, and worse and worse scared every time he shot,
until he supposed he had been at it an hour or two, when, as
his last load was fired, the great black beast got up and gave
one tremendous bound. He heard his steel trap fall clashing
back against the stones, and it was gone.

After he had sufficiently recovered from his trepidation,
he went up to the trap, and found there, between its saw-like
teeth, the veritable ‘split hoof,’ for which the old gentleman
he took it for is so famous! He swears to this day that
there was a strong smell of sulphur in the woods, which
remained for weeks afterwards.

CRUST AND LAKE HUNTING. 535

He came into the settlement in a great fright with the
hoof, but the old hunters looked wise and solemn, shaking
their heads. Sturge, poor fellow, could get no consolation
out of them. When winter came, he went with a party to
hunt moose, and when in the yard, they came upon a huge
bull moose, Sturge was for making tracks as fast as his snow
shoes would let him, yelling—

“That’s him! there he is again!””—but the hunters stopped
him with roars of laughter, and let him shoot at the bull
until he brought it down, when he satisfied himself that it
had not the ‘forked tail,’ and therefore was not the genuine
Old Harry! But this was when Sturge was young and
verdant, and his mistake after all was no more remarkable
than many others that have been made at the susceptible
age. He has killed many moose since, but always has to fire
a great many shots at them—for he says that somehow, since
that time, they “will look so big he can’t see his sights !”

CHAPTER XXV.
HUNTING ELEPHANTS IN SOUTH AFRICA.

But the “ Hunter-Naturalist”’ is not confined to the “ wild
scenes” of our young continent. There yet remain upon the
oldest continent of the Old World “Realms of Ancient
Solitude” as vast, as savage, as difficult of penetration; where
action as wild, and passions as uncontrolled as those we
have been witnessing and depicting, find “verge and room
enough.”

The same audacious spirit of inquiry and passionate aban-
don of taste, which has characterized the half-scientific,
half-Nomadic explorer here, has carried, in some stage of
development, the “‘ Hunter-Naturalist” in whatever direction
the empire-measuring eye of Britain has been turned, forward
as the “surveyor,” in advance of chain and staff, to explore,
of his own free will, and report of his own free fancy, concern-
ing the prospective riches of these remote lands.

Thus a new class of adventurers has grown up under the
far-seeing policy, first of the Honorable East India Company,
and afterwards, perforce of example, under the general
military administration of British colonial affairs, which
aspires at once to combine all characteristics of the Boones
and Audubons of our history. The stories of tiger hunting
on elephants by officers of the British army, which have for so
long constituted the staple of savage romance in that direction,
as to render their details now superlatively stale, have yet
had their effect in developing this new British type, though

it be but a secondary one; yet the lawless magnificence of
5386

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 537

action and association which had rendered the character of
Pioneer and Hunter-Naturalist nearly synonomous in renown
here, had still more to do with this result in affording the most
extraordinary and illustrious instances of individual heroism
the world ever saw. Men became emulous of this personal
glory, with which the association of single names with the
conquest of empires, first with mere handfulls of followers, as
with Cortez and Pizarro, and afterwards through all unex-
pected disparities of numbers, down to the solitary man, as
with Boone, had been made so familiar since the discovery
of the New World. If there were no new worlds to discover,
there were at least new regions to explore; if there were
no more Perus or Mexicos to conquer, there were great herds
of peaceful elephants browsing the unpenetrated forests of the
vast interior of Africa, in the hunt of which energies as rest-
less and irrepressible could be expended. Thus the pacific
and curious traveller, such as Bruce, or “more merchant-
like,” as Marco Paulo and Sir John Mandeville, has given
place to such Nimrods on parole as Major W. Cornwallis
Harris, R. Gorden Cummings, etc., of the British army in
South Africa, who have lately made themselves illustrious as
having gone forth—if not literally

With a pine
For a spear, ’gainst the mammoth,”

at least practically, with’ their short rifles against

foaming behemoth.”

The adventures of these men open a new and very curious,
as well as striking chapter of “Wild Scenes and Wild —
Hunters” in the old world. Each tells his own story with the
characteristic extravagance of the adventurer; but this con-
sists more in expression than fact. They are both inspired
with the genuine spirit of the ‘‘ Hunter-Naturalist,” and in
their eager emulation of securing “ trophies” of specimens.

538 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

have done much to illustrate the Natural History of an
immense and wholly unknown country. Of the two, Harris
has ten years the precedence in the field; and to say the
least, there is a somewhat suspicious resemblance between
many of the incidents in Cummings’ book and his on the
“Sports of South Africa.” This coincidence, however natural,
from the fact that much the same ground has been gone
over by both, is yet strong enough to show that Cummings
has taken Harris for his master and model. As a proper
introduction to these “Wild Scenes,” I shall give from
Cummings a general sketch of the habits of the elephant.
Before proceeding further with my narrative, it may here
be interesting to make a few remarks on the African elephant
and his habits. The elephant is widely diffused through the
vast forests, and: is met with in herds of various numbers.
The male is very much larger than the female, consequently
much more difficult to kill. He is provided with two enormous
tusks. These are long, tapering, and beautifully arched;
their length averages from six to eight feet, and they weigh
from sixty to a hundred pounds each. In the vicinity of
the equator the elephants attain to a greater size than to
the southward; and I am in the possession of a pair of tusks
of the African bull elephant, the larger of which measures
ten feet nine inches in length, and weighs one hundred and
seventy-three pounds. The females, unlike Asiatic elephants
in this respect, are likewise provided with tusks. The price
which the largest ivory fetches in the English market is from
£28 to £32 per hundred and twelve pounds. Old bull
elephants are found singly or in pairs, or consorting together
in small herds, varying from six to twenty individuals. The
younger bulls remain for many years in the company of their
mothers, and these are met together in large herds of from
twenty to a hundred individuals, The food of the elephant
consists of the branches, leaves and roots of trees, and also of
a variety of bulbs, of the situation of which he is advisec by

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 539

his exquisite sense of smell. To obtain these he turns up
the ground with his tusks, and whole acres may be seen thus
plowed up. Elephants consume an immense quantity of
food, and pass the greater part of the day and night in
feeding. Like the whale in the ocean, the elephant on land
is acquainted with, and roams over, wide and extensive
tracts. He is extemely particular in always frequenting
the freshest and most verdant districts of the forest; and
when one district is parched and barren, he will forsake it
for years, and wander to great distances in quest of better
pasture.

The elephant entertains an extraordinary horror of man,
and a child can put a hundred of them to flight by passing
at a quarter of a mile to windward; and when thus disturbed,
they go a long way before they halt. It is surprising how
ae ae i animals = aware of the oe of a
hunter in their domains. When one troop has been attacked,
all the other elephants frequenting the district are aware of
the fact within two or three days, when they all forsake it, and
migrate to distant parts, leaving the hunter no alternative
but to inspan his wagons and remove to fresh ground. ~ This
constitutes one of the greatest difficulties which a skillful
elephant-hunter encounters. Even in the most remote parts,
which may be reckoned the head-quarters of the elephant, it is
only occasionally, and with inconceivable toil and hardship, that
the eye of the hunter is cheered by the sight of one. Owing to
habits peculiar to himself, the elephant is more inaccessible,
and much more rarely seen, than any other game quadruped,
excepting certain rare antelopes. They choose for ‘their
resort the most lonely and secluded depths of the forest,
generally at a very great distance from the rivers and
fountains at which they drink. In dry and warm weather
they visit these waters nightly, but in cool and cloudy weather
they drink only once every third or fourth day. About
sundown the elephant leaves his distant mid-day haunt, and

540 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

commences his march toward the fountain, which is probably
from twelve to twenty miles distant. This he generally
reaches between the hours of nine and midnight, when,
having slaked his thirst and cooled his body by spouting
large volumes of water over his back with his trunk, he
resumes the path to his forest solitudes. Having reached a
secluded spot, I have remarked that full-grown bulls lie down
on their broadsides, about the hour of midnight, and sleep
for a few hours. The spot which they usually select is an
ant-hill, and they lie around it with their backs resting
against it; these hills formed by the white ants, are from
thirty to forty feet in diameter at their base. The mark
of the under tusk is always deeply imprinted in the ground,
proving that they lie upon their sides. I never remarked
that females had thus lain down, and it is only in the more
secluded districts that the bulls adopt this practice; for I
observed that, in districts where the elephants were liable
to frequent disturbance, they took repose standing on their
legs beneath some shady tree. Having slept, they then
proceed to feed extensively. Spreading out from one another,
and proceeding in a zigzag course, they smash and destroy
all the finest trees in the forest which happen to lie in their
course. The number of goodly trees which a herd of bull
elephants will thus destroy is utterly incredible. They are
extremely capricious, and on coming to a group of five or six
trees, they break down not unfrequently the whole of them,
when, having perhaps tasted one or two small branches, they
pass on and continue their wanton work of destruction. I
have repeatedly ridden through forests where the trees thus
broken lay so thick across one another that it was almost
impossible to ride through the district, and it is in situations
such as these that attacking the elephant is attended with
most danger. During the night they will feed in open plains
and thinly-wooded districts, but as day dawns they retire
to the densest covers within reach, which nine times in ten

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 641

are composed of the impracticable wait-a-bit thorns, and here
they remain drawn up in a compact herd during the heat of
the day. In remote districts, however, and in cool weather,
I have known herds to continue pasturing throughout the
whole day.

The appearance of the wild elephant is inconceivably
majestic and imposing. LIlis gigantic height and colossal
bulk, so greatly surpassing all other quadrupeds, combined
with his sagacious disposition and peculiar habits, impart to
him an interest in the eyes of the hunter which no other
animal can call forth. The pace of the elephant, when
undisturbed, is a bold, free, sweeping step; and from the
peculiar spongy formation of his foot, his tread is extremely
light and inaudible, and all his movements are attended
with a peculiar gentleness and grace. This, however, only
applies to the elephant when roaming undisturbed in his
jungle; for, when roused by the hunter, he proves the most
dangerous enemy, and far more difficult to conquer than any
other beast of the chase.

Harris has given a most graphic description of the imposing
scene of his first introduction to the South African Elephants.
Here it is in his own picturesque style.

Early in the afternoon the Hottentots returned with the
oxen, and we proceeded without loss of time to the eastward,
following the course of the mountains through very high
grass, and passing between two conical hills of singular
appearance, which stood like sentinels on either hand ; after
crossing six inconsiderable streams, we with some difficulty
gained the vicinity of a remarkable abrupt opening in the
range, which through a telescope appeared to afford a prac-
ticable road to the northward. Both our wagons stuck fast
in the Saut river, and were with difficulty extricated by the
united efforts of the teams. The heat was intense, not a
breath stirred; the heavy black clouds fast collecting bade
us prepare for a deluge. We therefore formed the camp

542 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

in an elevated and sheltered position, under the lee of a high
stone enclosure, which only required the entrance to be closed
with bushes to make a secure pound for the cattle. Scarcely
were these arrangements completed, when a stream of liquid
fire ran along the ground, and a deafening thunder-clap
exploding close above us, was “instantly followed by a torrent
of rain which “came dancing down to the earth,” not in
drops, but in continuous streams, and with indescribable
violence, during the greater part of the night; the thunder
now receding and rumbling less and less distinctly, but more
incessantly, among the distant mountains—now pealing in
echoes over the distant hills, and now returning to burst with
redoubled violence over our heads.

“Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leapt the wild thunder, not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain soon had found a tongue.”

The horses and oxen were presently standing knee-deep
in water; our followers remained sitting all night in the
baggage wagon, which, being better covered, fortunately
resisted the pitiless storm. Sleep, however, was out of the
question, the earth actually threatening to give way under
us, the lightning being so painfully vivid that we were glad
to hide our heads under the pillow.

Those only who have witnessed the setting in of the south-
west monsoon in India, are capable of understanding the
awful tempest I have attempted to describe. About an hour
before dawn its fury began to abate, and at sunrise it was
perfectly fine, but the rivers were quité impassable. I pro-
ceeded with some of the Hottentots to reconnoitre the pass,
but found that it was impassable for wagons, being nothing
more than a narrow channel flanked by perpendicular erags,
between which the Saut river rushes on its way to join the
Singkling, making a number of abrupt windings through a

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 542

most impracticable country, intersected by a succession of
rocky declivities. From the highest peak we saw several
herds of buffaloes, and whilst descending came upon the
tracks of a huge elephant that had passed about an hour
before. This being the largest foot-print we had seen, I had
the curiosity to, measure it, in order to ascertain the animal’s
height—twice the circumference of an elephant’s foot being,
it is notorious, the exact height at the shoulder. It yielded
a product of about twelve feet, which, notwithstanding the
traditions that have been handed down, I believe to be the
maximum height attained by the African elephant.

We followed the trail across the Saut river, which had now
considerably subsided, and finding that it proceeded eastward
along the mountain chain, returned to our encampment for
horses and ammunition.

Leaving the wagon to proceed to a spot agreed upon, we
again took the field about ten o’clock, and pursued the track
indefatigably for eight miles over a country presenting every
variety of feature. At one time we crossed bare stony ridges,
at another threaded the intricacies of shaggy but dilapidated
forests ; now struggling through high fields of waving grass,
and again emerged into open downs. At length we arrived
among extensive groups of grassy hillocks, covered with loose
stones, interspersed with streams, and occasional patches of
forest, in which the recent ravages of elephants were sur-
prising. Here, to our expressible gratification, we descried
a large herd of those long-sought animals, lazily browsing at
the head of a distant valley, our attention having been first
directed to it by the strong and not to be mistaken effluvia
with which the wind was impregnated. Never having before
seen the elephant in his native jungles, we gazed at the sight
before us with intense and indescribable interest. Our feel-
ings on the occasion even extended to our followers. As for
Andries, he became so agitated that he could scarcely articu-

544 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

late. With open eyes and quivering lips he at length stuttered
forth—

“ Dar stand de olifant!”

Mohanycom and Lingap were immediately dispatched to
drive the herd back into the valley, up which we rode slowly
and without noise, against the wind; and arriving within one
hundred and fifty yards unperceived, we made our horses
fast, and took up a commanding position in an old stone
kraal. The shouting of the savages, who now appeared on
the height, rattling their shields, caused the animals to move
unsuspiciously towards us, and even within ten yards of our
ambush. The group consisted of nine, all females, with large
tusks. We selected the finest, and with perfect deliberation,
fired a volley of five balls into her. She stumbled, but
recovering herself, uttered a shrill note of lamentation, when
the whole party threw their trunks above their heads, and
instantly clambered up the adjacent hill with incredible
celerity, their huge fan-like ears flapping in the ratio of
their speed. We instantly mounted our horses, the sharp
loose stones not suiting the feet of the wounded lady, soon
closed with her. Streaming with blood, and infuriated with
rage, she turned upon us with uplifted trunk, and it was not
until after repeated discharges, that a ball took effect in her
brain, and threw her lifeless upon the earth, which resounded
with the fall.

Turning our attention from the exciting scene we have
described, we found that a second valley had opened before
us, surrounded by bare strong hills, and traversed by a thinly
wooded ravine. Here a grand and magnificent panorama
was before us, which beggars all description. The whole
face of the landscape was actually covered with wild elephants.
There could not have been fewer than three hundred within
the scope of our vision. Every height and green knoll was
dotted pver with groups of them, whilst the bottom of the

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 545

glen exhibited a dense and sable living mass—their colossal
forms being at one moment partially concealed by the trees,
which they were disfiguring with great strength; and at others
seen majestically emerging into the open glades, bearing in
their trunks the branches of trees, with which they indolently
protected themselves from the flies. The back-ground was
filled by a limited peep of the blue mountainous range, which
here assumed a remarkably precipitous character, and com-
pleted a picture at once soul-stirring and sublime !

Our approach being still against the wind, was unobserved,
and created little alarm, until the herd that, we had left
behind suddenly showed itself, recklessly thundering down
the hill to join the main body, and passing so close to us
that we could not refrain from firing a broadside into one
of them, which, however, bravely withstood it.. We secured
our horses on the summit of a stony ridge, «s.d then station-
ing ourselves at an opportune place on a ledge overlooking
the wooded defile, sent Andries to maneuvre, so that as
many of the elephants as possible could pass before us in
order of review, that we might ascertain by a close inspection
whether there was not a male amongst them. Filing slug-
gishly along, they occasionally halted beneath an umbrageous
tree, within fifteen yards of us, lazily fanning themselves
with their ample ears, blowing away the flies with their
trunks, and uttering the feeble and peculiar cry so peculiar to
Indian elephants. They all proved to be ladies, and most of
them mothers, followed by their little old-fashioned caives,
each trudging close to the heels of her dam, and mimicking
all her motions. Thus situated, we might have killed any
number we pleased, their heads being frequently turned
towards us in such a position, and so close, that a single ball
in the brain would have sufficed for each; but whilst we
were yet hesitating, a bullet suddenly whizzed past Richard-
son’s ear, and put the whole herd to immediate flight. We
had barely time to recede oe a tree, before a party of

546 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

about twenty, with several little ones in their wake, were
upon us, striding at their utmost speed, and trumpeting
loudly with uplifted heads. I rested my rifle against the
tree, and firing behind the shoulder of the leader, she dropped
instantly. Another large detachment being close behind us at
the same moment, we were compelled to retreat, dodging from
tree to tree, stumbling amongst sharp stones, and ever coming
upon fresh parties of the enemy. This scene of ludicrous
confusion did not long continue, and soon approaching the
prostrate lady, we put an end to her struggles by a shot in
the forehead. Andries now came up in high good humor at
his achievements, and in the most bravado manner, discharged
his piece into the dead carcass, under the pretence that the
animal was shamming. His object evidently was to confound
the shots, for, thrusting his middle finger into the orifice
made by my two-ounce ball, he with the most modest assurance
declared himself the author of the deed, being pleased
altogether to overlook the fact of the mortal shot having
entered the elephant on the side opposite to that on which
he was stationed, and that his own ball, whether designedly
or not, had all but expended my worthy and esteemed fellow-
traveller.

On our way to the camp, of the exact position of which
we were uncertain, in consequence of the late inundation, we
passed three other large herds of elephants. One of these
standing directly in the route, we attacked it, and pursued
the fugitive about a mile over loose stones. Much has been
said of the attachment of elephants to their young, but neither
on this, nor on any subsequent occasion, did we perceive
them evinse the smallest concern for their safety. On the
contrary, they left them to shift for themselves, and Mohany-
com and Lingap, who were behind us, assagaied one, the
tail of which they brought in. We slew another old female
as we ascended the brow of an eminence, and at the same
moment perceived our wagons within a few hundred yards of

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 547

the spot. The whole herd dashed through the can.p, causing
indescribable consternation amongst cattle and followers, but
fortunately no accident occurred; and after the fatiguing
day’s work we had undergone, we were not sorry to find
ourselves at home.

Watery clouds hung about the sun as he set heavily behind
the mountains. Loud peals of crashing thunder rent the
air, and ere it was yet dark, we had a repetition of yesterday’s
storm; the river roaring past us with frightful fury; troops
of elephants, flying from the scene of slaughter, passed close
to our wagons during the darkness, their wild voices echoing
amongst the mountains, and sounding like trumpets above
the tempest. It was impossible to keep the fires burning;
and the oxen and sheep were alarmed to such a degree that
they broke from the kraal, and sought safety in the wilder-
ness. Tired as I was, the excitement I had undergone
banished sleep from my eyes. I ruminated on the spirit-
stirring events of the day, and burned with impatience to
renew them. Heedless of the withering blast that howled
without, I felt that my most sanguine expectations had been
realited, and that we had already been amply repaid for the
difficulties, privations and dangers that we had encountered
in our toilsome journey towards this fairy-land of sport.

It was still raining heavily when the day gloomily dawned.
The mountain torrents having overflowed their banks, the
valley in which we were encamped had become a continuous
pool of water, and those of our followers who had slung
their hammocks beneath the wagons, were partially sub-
merged. High-roads had been ploughed through the mire
by the passage of elephants, and whole acres of grass, by
which we had been surrounded the preceding evening, had
been completely trampled down. Soon after sunrise it cleared
up, and the cattle having been recovered, we armed a party
with hatchets, and proceeded on foot to cut out the teeth of

548 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the slain elephants; but walking was exceedingly toilsome,
and our feet sinking to the ankles in black mud, were extri-
cated with inconceivable difficulty. Taking advantage of our
situation, an irritated rhinoceros sallied from behind an old
stone wall; and the damp causing three of the balls to misa
fire, he was actually amongst us, when my ball fortunately
pierced his eye, and he fell dead at our feet.

Not an elephant was to be seen on the ground that was
yesterday teeming with them; but on reaching the glen,
which had been the scene of our exploits during the early
part of the action, a calf about three feet and a half high,
walked forth from a bush, and saluted us with mournful
piping notes. We had observed the unhappy little wretch
hovering about its mother after she fell, and having probably
been unable to overtake the herd, it had passed a dreary
night in the wood. Entwining its little proboscis about our
legs, the sagacious creature, after demonstrating its delight
at our arrival by a thousand ungainly antics, accompanied
the party to the body of its dam, which, swollen to an enor-
mous size, was surrounded by an inquest of vultures. Seated
in gaunt array, with their shoulders shrugged, these loathe-
some fowls were waiting its decomposition with forced
resignation ; the tough hide having defied all the efforts of
their beaks, with which the eyes and softer parts had been
vigorously assailed. The conduct of the quaint little calf
now became quite affecting, and elicited the sympathy of
every one. It ran round its mother’s corpse with touching
demonstratious of grief, piping sorrowfully, and vainly
attempted to raise her with its tiny trunk. I confess that
I had felt compunctions in committing the murder the day
before, and now half resolved never to assist in another;
for in addition to the moving behavior of the young elephant,
I had been unable to divest myself of the idea that I was
firing at my old favorite, Mowla-Bukhsh, from whose gallant

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 549

back I had vanquished so many of my feline foes in Guzerat
—an impression which, however ridiculous it must appear,
detracted considerably from the satisfaction I experienced.
The operation of hewing out three pairs of tusks occupied
several hours, their roots, embedded in massy sockets, spread-
ing over the greater portion of the face. My Indian friends
will marvel when they hear of tusks being extricated from
the jaws of a female elephant—but with very few exceptions,
all that we saw had these accessories, measuring from three
to four feet in length. I have already stated my belief that
the maximum height of the African male is twelve feet; that
of the female averages eight and a half—the enormous magni-
tude of the ears, which not only cover the whole of the
shoulder, but overlap each other on the neck, to the complete
exclusion of the mahout, or driver, constituting another
striking feature of difference between the two species. The
forehead is remarkably large and prominent, and consists of
two walls or tables, between which, a wide cellular space
intervening, a ball, hardened with tin or quicksilver, readily
penetrates to the brain, and proves instantaneously fatal.
The barbarous tribes that people Southern Africa, have
never dreamed of the possibility of rendering this lordly
quadruped serviceable in a domestic capacity; and even
amongst the colonists, there exists an unaccountable super-
stition that his subjugation is not to be accomplished. His
capture, however, may readily be achieved ; and as he appears
to possess all the aptitude of his Asiatic relative, the only
difficulty that presents itself, is the general absence, within
our territories, of sufficient food for his support. Were he
once domesticated and arrayed against the beasts of the
forest, Africa would realize the very beaw ideal of magnifi-
cent sport. It is also worthy of remark, that no attempt has
ever been made on the part of thg colonists to naturalize
another most useful animal, the camel, although the soil, cli-
mate, and productions appear alike to favor its introduction.

550 . WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

All this is plain sailing, and something we common mor
tals can comprehend, foreign and unusual as its picturings
and details are; but it is nothing comparatively with what
Mr. Cummings has to tell of different modes of hunting the
elephant, as practised by himself higher up in the extraordi-
nary valley of the Limpopo. Hear him for his story—

On the 17th of September I resolved to leave the fountain
of Seboono, as it was much disturbed, and to proceed with
a few Bakalahari to a small yet famous water about six miles
to the south-east. We accordingly saddled up and held
thither. On reaching this fountain, which is called by the
natives “ Paapaa,” I found the numerous foot-paths leading
to it covered, as I had anticipated, with fresh spoor of
elephant and rhinoceros. I then at once proceeded to study
the best spot on which to make our shooting-hole for the
night. It would be impossible to prevent some of the game
from getting our wind, for the foot-paths led to it from every
side. The prevailing wind was from the east, so I pitched
upon the south-west corner of the fountain. The water was
not more than twenty yards long and ten broad. The west
side was bounded by tufous rock, which rose abruptly from
the water about five feet high. The top of this rock was
level with the surrounding vley, and here all the elephants
drank, as if suspicious of treading on the muddy margin on
the other three sides of the fountain. J made our shooting-
box within six or eight yards of the water, constructing it in
a circular form, of bushes packed together so as to form a
hedge about three feet high. On the top of the hedge I
placed heavy dead old branches of trees, so as to form a fine
clear rest for our rifles; these clean old branches were all
lashed firmly together with strips of thorn bark. All being
completed, I took the Bakalahari and our steeds to a shady
tree, about a quarter of a mile to leeward of the fountain,
where we formed a kraall, and off-saddled. This day was
particularly adapted to bring game to the water, the sun

ELEPHANT HUNTING. h51

being extremely powerful, and a hot, dry wind prevailing all
the afternoon. I told Carey that we were certain of having
a good night’s sport, and I was right, fer we undoubtedly
had about the finest night’s sport and the most wonderful
that was ever enjoyed by man.

A little before the sun went down, leaving our kraal, we
held to the fountain, having with us our heavy-metaled rifles,
karosses and two Bakalahari. We also had two small guns,
my double-barreled Westley Richards and Carey’s single-
barreled gun. As we approached the fountain, a stately
hull giraffe stood before us; the heat of the day had brought
him thither, but he feared to go in and drink; on observing
us, he walked slowly away. Two jackals were next detected.
Guinea-fowl, partridges, two or three sorts of pigeon and:
turtle-dove, and small birds in countless thousands, were
pouring in to drink from every airt, as we walked up to our
hiding-place and lay down. In a few minutes the sun was
under; but the moon was strong and high (it being within
three nights of the full), and the sky was clear, with scarcely
acloud. Very soon a step was heard approaching from the
east: it was a presuming black rhinoceros. He came up
within ten yards of the hiding-hole, and, observing us with
his sharp, prying eye, at once came slowly forward for a
nearer inspection. I then shouted to him; but this he did
not heed in the slightest. I then sprang up and waved my
large kaross, shouting at the same time. This, however,
only seemed to amuse Borélé, for he stood within four yards
of us, with his horn threatening our momentary destruction,
nor would he wheel about until I threw a log of wood at him.
Black rhinoceroses are very difficult to scare when they do
not get the wind; the best way to do so is to hit them with
a stone—that is, in the event of the sportsman not wishing
to fire off his gun.

Soon after Borélé departed, four old bull elephants drex

552 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

near from the south. They were coming right on for the
spot where we lay, and they seemed very likely to walk over
the top of us. We therefore placed our two big rifles in
position, and awaited their forward movement with intense
interest. On they came, with slow and stately step, until
within twenty yards of us, when the leading elephant took
it into his head to pass to leeward. We let him come on
until he got our wind; he was then within ten yards of the
muzzles of our hcavy-metaled rifles; on winding us, he
tossed his trunk aloft, and we instantly fired together. I
caught him somewhere about the heart, and my big six-pound
rifle burst in Carey’s hands, very nearly killing us both.
The elephant, on being fired at, wheeled about, and retreated
to the forest at top speed. I now directed “ Stick-in-the-mud”
to make use of his single-barreled twelve to the pound in the
event of more elephants coming up; and thanking my stars
that the old Dutch rifle had not sent us both to the land of
the leal, I sat down and watched the dark masses of trees
that cut the sky on every side, in the hope of seeing a mass
as high and wide come towering forward into the open space
that surrounded the fountain.

Nor did I watch long in vain, for very soon three princely
bull elephants appeared exactly where the first came on, and
holding exactly the same course. They approached just as
the first had done. “When the leading elephant came within
ten yards of us, he got our wind and tossed up his trunk,
and was wheeling round to retreat, when we fired together,
and sent our bullets somewhere about his heart. He ran two
hundred yards and then stood, being evidently dying. His
comrades halted likewise, but one of them, the finest of the
three, almost immediately turned his head once more to the
fountain, and very slowly and warily came on. We now
heard the wounded elephant utter the cry of death, and fall
heavily on the earth. Carey, whose ears were damaged by

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 553

the bursting of the big rifle, did not catch this sound, but
swore that the elephant which now so stealthily approached
the water was the one at which we had fired.

It was interesting to observe this grand old bull approach
the fountain: he seemed to mistrust the very earth on which
he stood, and smelt and examined with his trunk every yard
of the ground before he trod on it, and sometimes stood five
minutes on one spot without moving. At length, having
gone round three sides of the fountain, and being apparently
satisfied as to the correctness of everything, he stepped
boldly forward on to the rock on the west, and, walking ut
within six or seven yards of the muzzles of our rifles, turned
his broadside, and, lowering his trunk into the water, drew
up a volume of water, which he threw over his back and
shoulders to cool his person. This operation he repeated
two or three times, after which he commenced drinking, by.
drawing the water into his trunk and then pouring it into
his mouth. I determined to break his leg if possible; so,
covering the limb about level with the lower line of his body,
I fired, Carey firing for his heart. I made a lucky shot;
and as the elephant turned and attempted to make away,
his leg broke with a loud crack, and he stood upon his three
sound ones. At once disabled and utterly incapable of
escaping, he stood statue-like beside the fountain, within a
few yards of where he had got the shot, and only occasion-
ally made an attempt at locomotion.

The patch of my rifle fired at this elephant’s comrade had
ignited a large ball of dry old dung, about eight yards to
leeward of our kraal, and, fanned by the breeze, it was
now burning away very brightly, the sparks flying in the
wind. Presently, on looking about me, I beheld two bull
elephants approaching by the self-same foot-path which the
others had held. The first of these was a half-grown bull,
the last was an out-and-out old fellow with enormous tusks.
They came on as the first had done, but seemed inclined

554 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

to pass to windward of us. The young bull, however, observed
the fire; he at once walked up to it, and, smelling at it with
his trunk, seemed extremely amused, and in a gamboling
humor threw his trunk about, as if not knowing what to
think of it. The larger bull now came up and exposed a
fine broadside; we took him behind the shoulder and fired
together; on receiving the shots; he wheeled about and held
west with drooping ears, evidently mortally wounded.

Some time after this I detected an enormous old bull
elephant approaching from the west. If we lay still where
we were, he must in a few minutes get our wind, so we
jumped up and ran forward out of his line of march.
Here a borélé opposed our further progress, and we had
to stone him out of our way. The elephant came on, and
presently got the wind of where we had been lying. This
at once seemed to awake his suspicions, for he stood still
among the trees, stretching his trunk from side to side to
catch the scent, and doubtful whether he should advance or
retreat. We then ran toward him, and stalked in within
forty yards of where he stood, and, taking up a position
behind a bush, awaited his forward movement. The elephant
came slowly forward, and J thought would pass to windward
of us, when he suddenly altered his course, and walked boldly
forward right for where we stood. He came on until within
seven or eight yards, when I coughed loudly to turn him.
He tossed up his trunk and turned quickly round to fly; as
he turned, however, we fired together, when the elephant
uttered a shrill cry of distress, and crashed away, evidently
hard hit. When this bull was standing before us, we both
remarked that he was the finest we had seen that night: his
tusks were extremely long, thick, and very unusually wide set.

We now returned to the fountain, and once more lay down
to watch. Rhinoceroses, both black and white, were parading
around us all night in every direction. We had lain but
a short time when I detected a single old bull elephant

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 555

approaching from the south by the same path which all the
others had held. This elephant must have been very thirsty,
for he came boldly on without any hesitation, and, keeping
to windward, walked past within about eight yards of us.
We fired at the same moment; the elephant wheeled about,
and, after running a hundred yards, reduced his pace to a
slow walk. I Slapped Carey on the shout ier, and Said, “We
have him.” I had hardly uttered the words when:he fell
over on his side; he rose, however, again to his feet. At
this moment the same presuming borélé who had troubled us
in the early part of the night came vp to us again, and,
declining as before to depart by gentle hints, I thought-it a
fitting moment to put an end to his intrusion, and accord-
ingly gave him a ball behind the shoulder. On receiving it,
he galloped off in tremendous consternation, and passed close
under the dying elephant, who at the moment fell dead with
a heavy crash, and broke one of his hind legs under him in
the fall.

About an hour after two more elephants came towering on
from the east. When they came up they stood for a long
time motionless within forty yards of the water; and at
length the finer of the two, which was a very first-rate old
bull, and carrying immense tusks, walked boldly forward,
and, passing round the north side of the fountain, commenced
drinking on the rock, just as the crippled bull had done. We
both fired together, holding for his heart; the bullets must
have gone nearly through him, for we had deuble charges of
powder in our weapons. On receiving the shots he dropped
a volume of water from his trunk, and, tossing it aloft, uttered
a loud cry and made off, steering north; but before he was
out of our sight he reduced his pace to a slow walk, and I
could quite plainly hear, by the loud, painful breathing
through his trunk, that he was mortally wounded; but
whether the natives were too lazy to seek him, or having
found him would not tell me, I know not, but I never got

556 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

him. We shot another bull elephant shortly after this; he,
too, uttered a shrill cry, and went off holding the same course
the last one did; that was, however, all that I ever saw of
him. F

Eight elephants killed and four ‘bagged’ were the ‘trophies’
of this extraordinary night’s sport, beside the ‘ borelé’ and
other ‘small fry’—enough, surely, to have arpeased the
appetite for slaughter of the veritable Nimrod of cld himself
—but there follows a variation upon this comparatively tame
Bport.

The next night I put in practice a novel experiment J had
long entertained—that of hunting elephants by moonlight
with dogs and horses, as in the day, being very much annoyed
at wounding and losing in the last week no less than ten first-
rate old bull elephants. I communicated my idea to ‘Stick-
in-the-mud,’ and we hastily proceeded to saddle my steed. I
led my dogs, eight in number, through the forest to leeward
of where a bull who had come to the fountain to drink had
gone in, and when I saw that they had got his wind I slipped
them. They dashed forward and next minute I followed the
baying of the dogs, and the crash and the trumpet of the
elephant. He rushed away at first without halting, and held
right for the mountains to the south-west. When, however,
he found that his speed did not avail, and that he could not
get away from his pursuers, he began to turn and dodge
about in the thickest of the cover, occasionally making
charges after the dogs. I followed on as best I could,
shouting with all my might to encourage my good hounds.
These, hearing their master’s voice beside them, stuck well
by the elephant, and fought him better than in the day. I
gave him my first two shots from the saddle; after which, I.
rode close up to him, and, running in on foot, gave him some
deadly shots at distances of from fifteen to twenty yards.

The elephant very soon evinced signs of distress, and
ceased to make away from us. Taking up positions in the

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 557

densest parts of the cover, he caught up the red dust with
his trunk, and throwing it over his head and back, endeavored
tv conceal himself in a cloud. This was a fine opportunity
to pour in my deadly shafts, and I took care to avail myself
of it. When he had received about twelve shots, he walked
slowly forward in a dying state, the blood streaming from
his trunk. I rode close up to him, and gave him a sharp
right and left from the saddle: he turned and walked a few
yards, then suddenly came down with tremendous violence on
his vast stern, pitching his head and trunk aloft to a pro-
digious height, and, falling heavily over on his side, expired.
This was an extremely large and handsome elephant, decidedly
the finest bull I had shot this year. Afraid of taking cold
or rheumatism, for I was in a most profuse perspiration, I
hastened back to my fireside, having first secured all the dogs
in their couples. Here I divested myself of my leather
. trowsers, shooting-belt, and veldt-schoens, and, stretched on
my kaross, I took tea, and wondered at the facility with
which I had captured this mighty elephant.

Feeling fatigued, I intended to lie down and rest till
morning. Just, however, as I was arranging my saddles
for a pillow, I beheld another first-rate old bull elephant
advancing up the vley from the south. I at once resolved
that he, too, should run the gauntlet wish the dogs. In
immense haste, therefore, I once more pulled on my old
leathers, and buckled on my shooting-belt, and ran down
into the rank long grass beside the fountain to meet him,
armed with the large two-grooved rifle, having directed Carey
and Piet to come slowly up with the dogs and my horse and
gun as soon as they were ready. The elephant came on, and
stood drinking within thirty yards of me. When I saw
Carey coming on with the dogs and steed, I fired, but my
rifle hung fire. The shot, however, gave the dogs good
courage, and they fought well. The elephant took away
at a rapid pace toward the other fountain where the Bechu-

558 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

anas lay, and at first led me through very bad wait-a-bit
thorn cover, which once or twice nearly swept me out of the
saddle. Presently he inclined to the west, and got into
better country; I then rode close up to him, and bowled
him over with four shots.

With one more glimpse of the cool extravagance charac-
teristic of the Professional Hunter, and of which Cummings
has prided himself upon giving us so many specimens, we
take our leave of elephant hunting in South Africa. The
following is most refreshing.

On the 31st I held south-east in quest of elephants, with a
large party of the natives. Our course lay through an open
part of the forest, where I beheld a troop of springboks and
two ostriches, the first I had seen for a long time. We held
for Towannie, a strong fountain in the gravelly bed of a
periodical river: here two herds of cow elephants had drunk
on the preceding evening, but I declined to follow them; and
presently, at a muddy fountain a little in advance, we took
up the spoor of an enormous bull, which had wallowed in the
mud, and then plastered the sides of several of the adjacent
veteran-looking trees. We followed the spoor through level
forest in an easterly direction, when the leading party overran
the spoor, and casts were made for its recovery. Presently
T detected an excited native beckoning violently a little to my
left, and, cantering up to him, he said that he had seen the
elephant. He led me through the forest a few hundred yards,
when, clearing a wait-a-bit, I came full in view of the tallest
and largest bull elephant I had ever seen. He stood broadside
to me, at upward of one hundred yards, and his attention at
the moment was occupied with the dogs, which, unaware of
his proximity, were rushing past him, while the old fellow
seemed to gaze at their unwonted appearance with surprise.

Halting my horse, I fired at his shoulder, and secured him
with a single shot. The ball caught him high upon the
shoulder-blade, rendering him instantly dead lame; and

ELEPHANT HUNTING. 559

before the echo of the bullet could reach my ear, I plainly
saw that the elephant was mine. The dogs now came up and
barked: around him, but finding himself incapacitated, the old
fellow seemed determined to take it easy, and, limping slowly
to a neighboring tree, he remained stationary, eyeing his
pursuers with a resigned and philosophic air.

I resolved to devote a short time to the contemplation of
this noble elephant before I should lay him low; accordingly,
having off-saddled the horses beneath a shady tree which was
to be my quarters for the night and ensuing day, I quickly
kindled a fire and put on the kettle, and in a very few minutes
my coffee was prepared. There I sat in my forest home,
coolly sipping my coffee, with one of the finest elephants in
Africa awaiting my pleasure beside a neighboring tree.

It was, indeed, a striking scene; and as I gazed upon the
stupendous veteran of the forest, I thought of the red deer
which I loved to follow in my native land, and felt that,
though the Fates had driven me to follow a more daring and
arduous avocation in a distant land, it was a good exchange
which I had made, for I was now a chief over boundless
forests, which yielded unspeakably more noble and exciting
sport.

Having admired thé elephant for a considerable time, I
resolved to make experiments for vulnerable points, and,
approaching very near, I fired several bullets at different
parts of his enormous skull. These did not seem to affect
him in the slightest; he only acknowledged the shots by a
“salaam-like” movement of his trunk, with the point of which
he gently touched the wound with a striking and peculiar
action. Surprised and shocked to find that I was only tor-
menting and prolonging the sufferings of the noble beast, which
bore his trials with such dignified composure, I resolved to
finish the proceeding with all possible dispatch ; accordingly,
I opened fire upon him from the left side, aiming behind the
shoulder; but even there it was long before my bullets

560 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

seemed to take effect. I first fired six shots with the two-
grooved, which must have eventually proved mortal, but as
yet he evinced no visible distress; after which I fired three
shots at the same part with the Dutch six-pounder. Large
tears now trickled from his eyes, which he slowly shut and
opened; his colossal frame quivered convulsively, and, falling
on his side,:he expired. The tusks of this elephant were
beautifully arched, and were the heaviest, I had yet met with,
averaging ninety pounds weight apiece.

All this is cool—very! It is picturesque, not to say
theatrical! Mr. Cummings, at this rate, might be educated
into a good American Borderer, and some day “come up to
the scratch” in a dwello, hand-to-claw with a Grisly Bear,
after having exchanged the compliments of the morning with
him beneath the cold shadows of the Rocky Mountain peaks!

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE GIRAFFE.

I nave before hinted at the degree in which Cummings
has made Harris his model, in his new book, “Five Years
in South Africa.” I therefore propose to give, one after the
other, the account each has furnished of his first interview
with the giraffe. They are different, yet alike in many
curious particulars; and as their fasts are equally inter-
esting, it is pleasing to compare the impressions of these
two notorious, if not remarkable examples of the Hunter-
Naturalist, from nearly the same point of view. I give
Cummings the advantage of presenting his first.

This day was to me rather a memorable one, as the first
on which I saw and slew the lofty, graceful-looking giraffe
or camelopard, with which, during many years of my life, I
had longed to form an acquaintance.

These gigantic and exquisitely beautiful animals, which
are admirably formed by nature to adorn the fair forests
that clothe the boundless plains of the interior, are widely
distributed throughout the interior of Southern Africa, but
are nowhere to be met with in great numbers. In countries
unmolested by the intrusive foot of man, the giraffe is found
generally in herds varying from twelve to sixteen; but I
have not unfrequently met with herds containing thirty indi-
viduals, and on one occasion I counted forty together; this,
however, was owing to chance, and about sixteen may be
reckoned as the average number of a herd.

» These herds are composed of giraffes of various sizes, from
the young giraffe of nine or ten feet in height, to the dark,
86 561

562 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

chestnut-colored old bull of the herd, whose exalted head
towers above his companions, generally attaining to a height
of upwards of eighteen feet. The females are of lower
stature and more delicately formed than the males, their
height averaging from sixteen to seventeen feet.

Some writers have discovered ugliness and a want of
grace in the giraffe, but I consider that he is one of the
most strikingly beautiful animals in creation; and when a
herd of them is seen scattered through a grove of the
picturesque parasol-topped acacias which adorn their native
plains, and on whose uppermost shoots they are enabled to
browse by the colossal height with which nature has so
admirably endowed them, he must indeed be slow of concep-
tion who fails to discover koth grace and dignity in all their
movements.

There can be no doubt that every animal is seen to the
greatest advantage in the haunts which nature destined him
to adorn; and among the various living creatures which
beautify this fair creation, I have often traced a remarkable
resemblance between the animal and the general appearance
of the locality in which it is found. This I remarked at
an early period of my life, when entomology occupied a
part of my attention. No person following this interesting
pursuit can fail to observe the extraordinary likeness which
insects bear to the various abodes in which they are met
with. Thus, among the long, green grass, we find a variety
of long, green insects, whose legs and antenne so resemble
the shoots emanating from the stalks of the grass that it
requires a practiced eye to distinguish them. Throughout
sandy districts, varieties of insects are met with of a color
similar to the sand which they inhabit.

Among the green leaves of the various trees of the forest
innumerable teaf-colored insects are to found; while, closely
adhering to the rough, gray bark of these forest-trees, we
observe beautifully-colored gray-looking moths of various

THE FIRST GIRAFFE HUNT. 563

patterns, yet altogether so resembling the bark as to be
invisible to the passing observer.

In like manner, among quadrupeds I have traced a corres-
ponding analogy; for, even in the case of the stupendous
elephant, the ashy color of his hide so corresponds with the
gray, thorny jungles which he frequents throughout the day,
that a person unaccustomed to hunting elephants, standing
on a commanding situation, might look down upon a herd
and fail to detect their presence.

And further, in the case of the giraffe, which is invariably
met with among venerable forests, where innumerable blasted
and weather-beaten trunks and stems occur, I have repeatedly
been in doubt as to the presence of a troop of them until I
had recourse to my spy-glass; and on referring the case to
my savage attendants, I have known even their optics to fail,
at one time even mistaking these dilapidated trunks for
camelopards, and again confounding real camelopards with
these aged veterans of the forest.

Although we had now been travelling many days through
the country of the giraffe, and had marched through forests
in which their spoor was abundant, our eyes had not yet
been gifted with a sight of “Tootla” himself; it was there-
fore with indescribable pleasure that, on the evening of the
11th, I beheld a troop of these interesting animals.

Our breakfast being finished, I resumed my journey
through an endless gray forest of cameel-dorn and other
trees, the country slightly undulating, and grass abundant.
A little before the sun went down my driver remarked to
me, “I was just going to say, sir, that that old tree was a
camelopard.” On looking where he pointed, I saw that the
old tree was indecd a camelopard; and, on casting my eyes
a little to the right, I beheld a troop of them standing
looking at us, their heads actually towering above the trees
of the forest. It was imprudent to commence a chase at
such a late hour, especially in a country of go level a

564 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

character, where the chances were against my being able
to regain my wagons that night. I, however, resolved to
chance everything;,and directing my men to catch and
saddle Colesburg, I proceeded in haste to buckle on my
shooting-belt and spurs, and in two minutes I was in the
saddle. The giraffes stood looking at the wagons until I
was within sixty yards of them, when, galloping round a
thick bushy tree, under cover of which I had ridden, I
suddenly beheld a sight the most astounding that a sports-
man’s eye can encounter. Before me stood a troop of ten
colossal giraffes, the majority of which were from seventeen
to eighteen feet high. On beholding me they at once made
off, twisting their long tails over their backs, making a loud,
switching noise with them, and cantered along at an easy
pace, which, however, obliged Colesburg to put his best foot
foremost to keep up with them.

The sensations which I felt on this occasion were different
from anything that I had before experienced, during a long
sporting career. My senses were so absorbed by the won-
drous and beautiful sight before me, that I rode along like
one entranced, and I felt inclined to disbelieve that I was
hunting living things of this world. The ground was firm
and favorable for riding. At every stride I gained upon the
giraffes, and after a short burst at a swinging gallop I was
in the middle of them, and turned the finest cow out of the
herd. On finding herself driven from her comrades and
hotly pursued, she increased her pace, and cantered along
with tremendous strides, clearing an amazing extent of
ground at every bound; while her neck and breast coming
in contact with the dead old branches of the trees, were con-
tinually strewing them in my path. In a few minutes I was
riding within five feet of her stern, and, firing at a gallop,
I sent a bullet into her back. Increasing my pace, I next
rode alongside, and, placing the muzzle of my rifle within a
few feet of her, I fired my second shot behind the shoulder ;

THE FIRST GIRAFFE HUNT. 865

the ball, however, seemed to have little effect. I then placed
myself directly in front, when she came to a walk. Dis-
mounting, I hastily loaded both barrels, putting in double
charges of powder. Before this was accomplished she was
off at a canter. Ina short time I brought her to a stand
in ‘the dry bed of a water-course, where I fired at fifteen
yards, aiming where I thought the heart lay, upon which she
again made off. Having loaded, I followed, and had very
nearly lost her; she had turned abruptly to the left, and
was far out of sight among the trees. Once more I brought
her to a stand, and dismounted from my horse. There we
stood together alone in the wild wood. I gazed in wonder
at her extreme beauty, while her soft, dark eye, with its
silky fringe, looked down imploringly at me, and I really felt
a pang of sorrow in this moment of triumph for the blood I
was shedding. Pointing my rifle toward the skies, I sent a
bullet through her neck. On receiving it, she reared high
on her hind legs, and fell backward with a heavy crash,
making the earth shake around her. A thick stream of dark
blood spouted out from the wound, her colossal limbs quivered
for a moment, and she expired.

I had little time to contemplate the prize I had won.
Night was fast setting in, and it was very questionable if
I should succeed in regaining my wagons; so, having cut
off the tail‘ of the giraffe, which was adorned with a bushy
tuft of flowing black hair, I took “one last fond look,” and
rode hard for the spoor of the wagons, which I succeeded in
reaching just as it was dark.

No pen nor words can convey to a sportsman what it is to
ride in the midst of a troop of gigantic giraffes: it must be
experienced to be understood. They emitted a powerful
perfume, which in the chase came hot in my face, reminding
me of the smell of a hive of heather honey in September.
The greater part of this chase led through bushes of the
wait-a-bit thorn of the most virulent deseription, which

566 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

covered my legs and arms with blood long before I had killed
the giraffe. I rode as usual in the kilt, with my arms bare
to my shoulder. It was Chapelpark of Badenoch’s old gray
kilt, but in this chase it received a death blow which it never
afterwards recovered.

Now comes Harris’s story—and between them we shall get
a pretty clear idea of the sensation of killing the first giraffe.
He says:

To the sportsman, the most thrilling passage in my adven-
tures is now to be recounted. In my own breast, it awakens
a renewal of past impressions, more lively than any written
description can render intelligible; and far abler pens than
mine, dipped in more glowing tints, would still fall short of
the reality, and leave much to be supplied by the imagination.
Three hundred gigantic elephants, browsing in majestic tran-
quillity amidst the wild magnificence of an African landscape,
and a wide stretching plain, darkened, far as the eye can
reach, with a moving phalanx of gnoos and quaggas, whose
numbers literally baffle computation, are sights but rarely to
be witnessed; but who amongst our brother Nimrods shall
hear of riding familiarly by the side of a troop of colossal
giraffes, and not feel his spirit stirred within him? He that
would behold so marvellous a sight must leave the haunts of
man, and dive, as we did, into pathless wilds, traversed only
by the brute creation—into wide wastes, where the grim lion
prowls, monarch of all he surveys, and where the gaunt hyena
and wild dog fearlessly pursue their prey.

Many days had now elapsed since we had even seen the
camelopard—and then only in small numbers, and under the
most unfavorable circumstances. The blood coursed through
my veins like quicksilver ; therefore, as on the morning of the
19th, from the back of Breslar, my most trusty steed, with a
firm wooded plain before me, I counted thirty-two of these
animals, industriously stretching their peacock necks to crop
the tiny leaves which fluttered above their heads, in a mimosa

THE FIRST GIRAFFE HUNT. 567

grove that beautified the scenery. They were within a hun-
dred yards of me, but having previously determined to try
the boarding system, I,reserved my fire. Although I had
taken the field expressly to look for giraffes, and had put
four of the Hottentots on horseback, all excepting Piet had
as usual slipped off unperceived in pursuit of a troop of
koodoos. Our stealthy approach was soon opposed by an
ill-tempered rhinoceros, which, with her ugly calf, stood
directly in the path; and the twinkling of her bright little
eyes, accompanied by a restless rolling of the body, giving
earnest of her intention to charge, I directed Piet to salute
her with a broadside, at the same moment putting spurs to
my horse. At the report of the gun, and the sudden clatter-
ing of hoofs, away bounded the giraffes in grotesque confusion,
clearing the ground by a succession of frog-like hops, and
soon leaving me far in the rear. Twice were their towering
forms concealed from view by a park of trees, which we
entered almost at the same instant; and twice, on emerging
from the labyrinth, did I perceive them tilting over an
eminence immeasurably in advance. A white turban, that
I wore round my hunting cap, being dragged off by a
projecting bough, was instantly charged by three rhinoce-
roses; and looking over my shoulder, I could see them long
afterwards fagging themselves to overtake me. In the course
of five minutes, the fugitives arrived at a small river, the
treacherous sands of which receiving their long legs, their
flight was greatly retarded; and after floundering to the
opposite side, and scrambling to the top of the bank, I
perceived that their race was run. Patting the streaming
neck of my good steed, I urged him again to his utmost, and
instantly found myself by the side of the herd. The stately
bull, being readily distinguishable from the rest by his dark
chestnut robe, and superior stature, I applied the muzzle of
my rifle behind his dappled shoulder, with the right hand,
and drew both triggers; but he still continued to shuffle

568 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

along, and being afraid of losing him, should I dismount,
among the extensive mimosa groves, with which the land-
scape was now obscured, I sat in my saddle, loading and
firing behind the elbow, and then placing myself across his
‘path, until, the tears trickling from his full brilliant eye, his
lofty frame began to totter, and at the seventeenth discharge
from the deadly grooved bore, bowing his graceful head from
the skies, his proud form was prostrate in the dust. Never
shall I forget the tingling excitement of that moment! Alone,
in the wild wood, I hurraed with bursting exultation, and
unsaddling my steed, sank exhausted beside the noble prize 1
had won.

When I leisurely contemplated the massive frame before
me, seeming as though it had been cast in a mould of brass,
and protected by a hide of an inch and a half in thickness,
it was no longer matter of astonishment, that a bullet dis-
charged from a distance of eighty or ninety yards, should
have been attended with little effect upon such amazing
strength. The extreme height from the crown of the
elegantly moulded head to the hoof of this magnificent
animal, was eighteen feet; the whole being equally divided
into neck, body, and leg. Two hours were passed in com-
pleting a drawing; and Piet still not making his appearance,
I cut off the tail, which exceeded five feet in length, and was
measurelessly the most estimable trophy I had gained; but
proceeding to saddle my horse, which I had left quietly
grazing by the side of a running brook, my chagrin may be
conceived, when I discovered that he had taken advantage
of my occupation to free himself from his halter, and abscond.
Being ten miles from the wagons, and in a perfectly strange
country, I felt convinced that the only chance of recovering
my pet, was by following the trail, whilst doing which with
infinite, difficulty, the ground scarcely deigning to receive a
foot-print, I had the satisfaction of meeting Piet and Mohany-
som, who had fortunately seen and recaptured the truant

THE FIRST GIRAFFE HUNT. 569

Returning to the giraffe, we all feasted heartily upon the
flesh, which, although highly scented at this season with the
rank mokaala blossoms, was far from despicable; and after
losing our way in consequence of the twin-like resemblance
of two scarped hills, we regained the wagons after sunset.
The spell was now broken, and the secret of cameleopard
hunting discovered. The next day Richardson and myself
killed three; one a female, slipping upon muddy ground, and
falling with great violence, before she had been wounded, a
shot in the head dispatched her as she lay. From this time
we could reckon confidently upon two out of each troop that
we were fortunate enough to find, always approaching as
near as possible, in order to insure a good start, galloping
into the middle of them, boarding the largest, and riding
with him until he fell. The rapidity with which these awk-
wardly formed animals can move, is beyond all things
surprising, our best horses being unable to close with them
under two miles. Their gallop is a succession of jumping
strides, the fore and hind leg on the same side moving
together instead of diagonally, as in most other quadrupeds,
the former being kept close together, and the latter so wide
apart, that in riding by the animal’s side, the hoof may be
seen striking on the outside of the horse, momentarily threat-
ening to overthrow him. Their motion, altogether, reminded
me rather of the pitching of a ship, or rolling of a rocking-
horse, than of any thing living; and the remarkable gait is
rendered still more automaton-like, by the switching, at
regular intervals, of the long black tail, which is invariably
curled above the back, and by the corresponding action of
the neck, swinging as it does, like a pendulum, and literally
imparting to the animal the appearance of a huge piece of
machinery in motion. Naturally gentle, timid and peaceable,
the unfortunate giraffe has no means of protecting itself but
with its heels; but even when hemmed into a corner, 1t
seldom resorted to this mode of defence. I have hbefure

570 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

noticed the courage evinced by our horses, in the pursuit of
game. Even when brought into actual contact with these
almost unearthly quadrupeds, they evinced no symptom of
alarm, a circumstance which may possibly be traced to their
meagre diet.

The colossal height, and apparent disproportions of this
extraordinary animal, long classed it with the unicorn and
the sphynx of the ancients, and induced a belief that it
belonged rather to the group of chimeras with which the
regions of imagination are tenanted, than existed amongst
the actual works of nature. Of its form and habits, no very
precise notions were obtained until within the last forty years;
and even now, the extant delineations are far from the truth,
having been taken from crippled prisoners instead of from
specimens free in their native deserts. The giraffe is by no
means a common animal, even at its headquarters. We
seldom found them without having followed the trail, and
never saw more than five-and-thirty in a day. A traveller
whom I met in the Cape Colony, assured me, before I visited
the interior, that he had himself counted eight hundred
giraffes in a single day; and during his travels, had ridden
down hundreds. On my return, however, after a little cross-
examination, the number destroyed dwindled gradually down
to one; which solitary individual appeared, upon further
investigation, to have been been taken in a pitfall! The
senses of sight, hearing and smell, are acute and delicate;
the eyes, which are soft and gentle, eclipsing those of the
oft-sung gazelle of the East, and being so constructed that,
without turning the head, the animal can see both before and
behind it at the same time. On the forehead there is a
remarkable prominence; and the. tongue has the power of
mobility increased to an extraordinary degree, accompanied
with the faculty of extension, which enables it, in miniature,
to perform the office of the elephant’s proboscis. The lofty
maned neck, possessing only seven joints, appears to move

THE FIRST GIRAFFE HUNT, 571

on a pivot, instead of being flexible like that of the swan or
peacock, to which, from its length, it has been likened.

The giraffe utters no ery whatever. Both sexes have
horns, covered with hair, and are similarly marked with
an angular and somewhat symmetrical pattern. The male
increases in depth of color according to the age, and in some
specimens is nearly black; but the female is smaller in
stature, and of a lighter color, approaching to yellow.
Although very extensive, the range of its habitat is exclu-
sively confined to those regions in which the species of
mimosa termed mokaala, or kameel-doorn, is abundant, the
leaves, shoots, and blossoms of that tree being its ordinary
food.

On the 22d, being encamped on the banks of a small
stream, a cameleopard was killed by a lion, whilst in the
act of drinking, at no great distance from the wagons. It
was a noisy affair, but an inspection of the scene on which
it occurred, proved that the giant strength of the victim had
been paralyzed in an instant. Authors have asserted that
the king of beasts is sometimes carried fifteen or twenty
miles, “riding proudly’? on the back of the giraffe; but
notwithstanding the amazing and acknowledged power of this
superb animal, I am greatly disposed to question his ability
to maintain so long a race under such merciless jockeyship !

Sensations very well described—capitally, indeed !—only
it is surprising how much alike “First Giraffe Hunts” must
be, since such a remarkable coincidence of feeling expe-
rienced, and of the action described, should have occurred
in these two thus, performed by different persons, at an
interval of ten years. The fact of their being so much
alike, may console those of us in this prosy real world who
may chance to be emulous of a Giraffe Hunt.

a

CHAPTER XXVII.
SOUTH AFRICAN LIONS.

Now for the lordly King of Beasts! As these wild African
Hunters found him, the grandeur of his ancestral name is
not a little heightened. There are some pictures of this
South African monarch of the wastes furnished as well by
the daring missionaries of the Christian Church in this
direction, which are quite as striking as those given by the
professional Hunters themselves. These we shall give after
first taking the general sketch of the habits of the animal
furnished by Cumming.

The night of the 19th was to me rather a memorable one,
as being the first on which I had the satisfaction of hearing
the deep-toned thunder of the lion’s roar. Although there
was no one near to inform me by what beast the haughty
and impressive sounds which echoed through the wilderness
were produced, I had little difficulty in divining. There was
no mistake about it; and on hearing it I at once knew, as
well as if accustomed to the sound from my infancy, that
the appalling roar which was uttered within half a mile
of me was no other than that of the mighty and terrible
king of beasts. Although the dignified and truly monarch-
ical appearance of the lion has long renJered him famous
among his fellow quadrupeds, and his appearance and habits
have often been described by abler pens than mine, never-
theless I consider that a few remarks, resulting from my
own personal experience, formed by a tolerably long acquaint-
ance with them both by day and by night, may not rrove
aninteresting to the reader. There is something so noble

572

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 573

and imposing in the presence of the lion, when seen walking
with dignified self-possession, free and undaunted, on his
native soil, that no description can convey an adequate idea
of his striking appearance. The lion is exquisitely formed
by nature for the predatory habits which he is destined to
pursue. Combining in comparatively small compass the
qualities of power and agility, he is enabled, by means of
the tremendous machinery with which nature has gifted
him, easily to overcome and destroy almost every beast of
the forest, however superior to him in weight and stature.
Though considerably under four feet in height, he has
little difficulty in dashing to the ground and overcoming the
lofty and apparently powerful giraffe, whose head towers above
the trees of the forest, and whose skin is nearly an inch in
thickness. The lion is the constant attendant of the vast
herds of buffaloes which frequent the interminable forests of
the interior; and a full-grown one, so long as his teeth are
unbroken, generally proves a match for an old bull buffalo,
which in size and strength greatly surpasses the most
powerful breed of English cattle: the lion also preys on all
the larger varieties of the antelopes, and on both varieties
of the gnu. The zebra, which is met with in large herds
throughout the interior, is also a favorite object of his pursuit.
Lions do not refuse, as has been asserted, to feast upon
the venison that they have not killed themselves. I have
repeatedly discovered lions of all ages which had taken
possession of, and were feasting upon, the carcasses of
various game quadrupeds which had fallen before my rifle.
The lion is very generally diffused throughout the secluded
parts of Southern Africa. He is, however, nowhere met
with in great abundance, it being very rare to find more
than three, or even two, families of lions frequenting the
same district and drinking at the same fountain. When a
greater number were met with, I remarked it was owing to
long-protracted droughts, which, by drying nearly all the

574 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

fountains, had compelled the game of various districts to
crowd the remaining springs, and the lions, according to their
custom, followed in the wake. It is a common thing to come
upon a full-grown lion and lioness associating with three or
four large ones nearly full-grown; at other times, full-growr
males will be found associating and hunting together in a
happy state of friendship; two, three, and four full-grown
male lions may thus be discovered consorting together.

The male lion is adorned with a long, rank, shaggy mane,
which in some instances almost sweeps the ground. The
color of these manes varies, some being very dark, and
others of a golden yellow. This appearance has given rise
to a prevailing opinion among the Boers that there are two
distinct varieties of lions, which they distinguish by the
respective names of “Schwart fore life’ and ‘“Chiel fore
life ;” this idea, however, is erroneons. The color of the
lion’s mane is generally influenced by his age. He attains his
mane in the third year of his existence. I have remarked
that at first it is of a yellowish color; in the prime of life it is
blackest, and when he has numbered many years, but still
is in the full enjoyment of his power, it assumes a yellowish-
gray, pepper-and-salt sort of color. These old fellows are
cunning and dangerous, and most to be dreaded. The
females are utterly destitute of a mane, being covered with
a short, thick, glossy coat of tawny hair. The manes and
coats of lions frequenting open-lying districts utterly destitute
of trees, such as the borders of the great Kalahari desert,
are more rank and handsome than those inhabiting forest
districts.

One of the most striking things connected with the lion
is his voice, which is extremely grand and peculiarly -
striking. It consists at times of a low, deep moaning,
repeated five or six times, ending in faintly audible sighs;
at other times he startles the forest with loud, deep-toned,
solemn roars, repeated five or six times in quick succession,

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 5TE

each increasing in loudness to the third or fourth, when his
voice dies away in five or six low, muffled sounds, very much
resembling distant thunder. At times, and not unfrequently,
a troop may be heard roaring in concert, one assuming the
lead, and two, three, or four more regularly taking up their
parts, like persons singing a catch. Like our Scottish stags
at the rutting season, they roar loudest in cold, frosty
nights; but on no occasions are their voices to be heard
in such perfection, or so intensely powerful, as when two or
three strange troops of. lions approach a fountain to drink at
the same time. When this occurs, every member of each
troop sounds a bold roar of defiance at the opposite parties ;
and when one roars, all roar together, and each seems to
vie with his comrade in the intensity and power of his voice.
The power and grandeur of these nocturnal forest concerts
is inconceivably striking and pleasing to the hunter’s ear.
The effect, I may remark, is greatly enhanced when the
hearer happens to be situated in the depths of the “forest,
at the dead hour of midnight, unaccompanied by any attend-
ant, and ensconced within twenty yards of the fountain
which the surrounding troops of lions are approaching. Such
has been my situation many scores of times; and though I
am allowed to have a tolerable good taste for music, I
consider the catches with which I was then regaled as the
sweetest and most natural I ever heard.

As a general rule, lions roar during the night; their
sighing moans commencing as the shades of evening envelop
the forest, and continuing at intervals throughout the night.
In distant and secluded regions, however, I have constantly
heard them roaring loudly as late as nine and ten o’clock on
a bright sunny morning. In hazy and rainy weather they
are to be heard at every hour in the day, but their roar is
subdued. It often happens that when two strange male
lions meet at a fountain a terrific combat ensues, which not
unfrequently ends in the death of one of them. The habits

576 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

of the lion are strictly nocturnal; during the day he lies
concealed beneath the shade of some low, bushy tree or wide-
spreading bush, either in the level forest or on the mountain
side. He is also partial to lofty reeds, or fields of long,
yellow grass, such as occur in low-lying vleys. From these
haunts he sallies forth when the sun goes down, and com-
mences his nightly prowl. When he is successful in his
beat and has secured his prey, he does not roar much that
night, only uttering occasionally a few low moans; that is,
provided no intruders approach him, otherwise the case would
be very different.

Lions are ever most active, daring and presuming in dark
and stormy nights, and consequently, on such occasions, the
traveller ought more particularly to be on his guard. I
remarked a fact connected with the lion’s hour of drinking
peculiar to themselves; they seemed unwilling to visit the
fountains with good moonlight. Thus, when the moon rose
early, the lions deferred their hour of watering until late in
the morning; and when the moon rose late, they drank at
a very early hour in the night. By this acute system many
a grisly lion saved his bacon, and is now luxuriating in the
forest of South Africa, which had otherwise fallen by the
barrels of my “ Westley Richards.” Owing to the tawny
color of the coat with which nature has robed him, he is
perfectly invisible in the dark; and although I have often
heard them loudly lapping the water under my very nose,
not twenty yards from me, I could not possibly make out so
much as the outline of their forms. When a thirsty lion
comes to water, he stretches out his massive arms, lies down
on his breast to drink, and makes a loud, lapping noise in
drinking not to be mistaken. He continues lapping up the
water for a long while, and four or five times during the
proceeding he pauses for half a minute as if to take breath.
One thing conspicuous about them is their eyes, which, in a
dark night, glow like two balls of fire. The female is more

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 517

fierce and active than the male, as a generalrule. Lionesses
which have never had young are much more dangerous than
those which have. At no time is the lion so much to be
dreaded as when his partner has got small young ones. At
that season he knows no fear, and, in the coolest and most
intrepid manner, he will face a thousand men. A remarkable
instance of this kind came under my own observation, which
confirmed the reports I had before heard from the natives.
One day, when dut elephant-hunting in the territory of the
“Baseleka,” accompanied by two hundred and fifty men, I
was astonished suddenly to behold a majestic lion slowly and
steadily advancing toward us with a dignified step and
undaunted bearing, the most noble and imposing that can
be conceived. lLashing his tail from side to side, and growl-
ing haughtily, his terribly expressive eye resolutely fixed
upon us, and displaying a show of ivory well calculated to
inspire terror among the timid “ Bechuanas,” he approached.
A headlong flight of the two hundred and fifty men was the
immediate’ result; and, in the confusion of the moment, four
couples of my dogs, which they had been leading, were
allowed to escape in their couples. These instantly faced
the lion, who, finding that by his bold bearing he had
succeeded in putting his enemies to flight, now became
solicitous for the safety of his little family, with which the
lioness was retreating in the back-ground. Facing about,
he followed after them with a haughty and independent
step, growling fiercely at the dogs which trotted along on
either side of him. ‘Three troops of elephants having been
discovered a few minutes previous to this, upon which I
was marching for the attack, I, with the most heartfelt
reluctance, reserved my fire. On running down the hill side
to endeavor to recall my dogs, I observed, for the first time,
the retreating lioness with four cubs. About twenty minutes
afterwards two noble elephants repaid my forbearance.
Among Indian Nimrods, a certain class of royal tigers

578 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

is dignified with the appellation of “man-eaters.” These
are tigers which, having once tasted human flesh, show a
predilection for the same, and such characters are very
naturally famed and dreaded among the natives. Elderly
gentlemen of similar tastes and habits are occasionally met
with among the lions in the interior of South Africa, and
the danger of such neighbors may be easily imagined. [
account for lions first acquiring this taste in the following
manner: the Bechuana tribes of the far interior do not bury
their dead, but unceremoniously carry them forth, and leave
them lying exposed in the forest or on the plain, a prey to
the lion and hyena, or the jackal and vulture; and I can
readily imagine that a lion, having thus once tasted human
flesh, would have little hesitation, when opportunity presented
itstlf, of springing upon and carrying off the unwary traveller
or “ Bechuana”’ inhabiting his country. Be this as it may,
man-eaters occur; and on my fourth hunting expedition, a
horrible tragedy was acted one dark night in my little lonely
camp by one of these formidable characters, which deprived
me, in the far wilderness, of my most valuable servant. In
winding up these few observations on the lion, which I trust
will not have been tiresome to the reader, I may remark
that lion-hunting, under any circumstances, is decidedly a
dangerous pursuit. It may nevertheless be followed, to a
certain extent, with comparative safety by those who have
naturally a turn for that sort of thing. A recklessness of
death, perfect coolness and self-possession, an acquaintance
with the disposition and manners of lions, and a ‘tolerable
knowledge of the use of the rifle, are indispensable to him
who would shine in the overpoweringly exciting pastime of
hunting this justly celebrated king of beasts.

It would be a pity, if, amidst his other lauded character
istics, the lior should not be quite as remarkable for manners
as magnanimity. Moffat, the daring agent of the London
Missionary Society in South Africa, who for twenty-three

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 579

years was exposed to all the perils of general resident, and
travelling supervision, of the Society operations in that wild
region, has given many striking and memorable anecdotes
of the lion, which are worth comparison with the rabidly
_ egotistical narratives of Cumming, &. We quote one, in
his own language, of the authenticity of which there can be
no reasonable doubt—at least it stands upon quite as broad a
basis of authenticity as any thing in that species of literature.
Conversing with the party one evening, when sitting around
the fire, on the conduct of children to their parents, I observed
that they were as bad as lions. ‘ They are worse,” réplied
Africaner. This he illustrated from the well-known charac-
teristics of the king of beasts; or, more properly, king of the
beasts of prey. Much has been written about African lions,
but the half has not been told. The following trait in their
character may not be intrusive, or partaking of the marvelous,
with which the tales of some travellers are said to abound. I
give it as received from men of God, and men who had been
experienced Nimrods, too. The old lion, when in company
with his children as the natives call them, though they are
nearly as big as himself; or, when numbers together happen
to come upon game, the oldest or ablest creeps to the object,
while the others crouch on the grass; if he be successful,
which he generally is, he retires from his victim, and lies
down to breathe and rest, for perhaps a quarter of an hour;
in the meantime, the others draw around, and lie down at a
respectful distance. When the chief one has got his rest, he
commences at the abdomen and breast, and after making
havoc with the tit-bits of the carcass, he will take a second
rest, none of the others presuming to move. Having made
a second gorge, he retires, the others watching his motions,
rush on the remainder, and it is soon devoured. At other
times, if a young lion seizes the prey, and an old one happens
to come up, the younger retires till the elder has dined. This

580 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

was what Africaner called better manners than those of the
Namaquas.

Here are others as droll from the same source :—

Passing along a vale, we came to a spot where the lion
appeared to have been exercising himself in the way of leap-
ing. As the natives are very expert in tracing the maneuvres
of animals by their foot-marks, it was soon discovered that a
large lion had crept towards a short black stump, very like
the human form; when within about a dozen yards, it bounded
on its supposed prey, when, to his mortification, he fell a foot
or two short of it. According to the testimony of a native
who had been watching his motions, and who joined us soon
after, the lion lay for some time steadfastly eyeing its sup-
posed meal. It then arose, smelt the object, and returned to
the spot from which he commenced his first leap, and leaped
four several times, till at last he placed his paw on the
imagined prize. On another occasion, when Africaner and
an attendant were passing near the end of a hill, from which
jutted out a smooth rock of ten or twelve feet high, he
observed a number of zebras pressing round it, obliged to
keep the path, beyond which it was precipitous. A lion was
3een creeping up towards the path, to intercept the large
stallion, which is always in the rear to defend or warn the
sroop. The lion missed his mark, and while the zebra rushed
round the point, the lion knew well, if he could mount the
rock at one leap, the next would be on the zebra’s back, it
being obliged to turn towards the hill. He fell short, with
only his head over the stone, looking at the galloping zebra
switching his tail in the air. He then tried a second and a
tnird leap, till he succeeded. In the meantime two more
lions came up, and seemed to roar and talk away about
something, while the old lion led them round the rock, and
round it again; then he made another grand leap, to show
them what he and they must do next time. Africaner added,

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 581

with the most perfect gravity, “They evidently talked to
each other, but though loud enough, I could not understand
a word they said; and, fearing lest we should be the next
objects of their skill, we crept away and left them in council.”

This is a fine story, and I do not regard it with near the
suspicion with which I do those vaunting ones of personal
adventure to which I have referred. Ido not at all doubt
the sagacious measuring of strength with distance by the
lion. How else could certainty be secured in the next
experiment—though the self-educating processes of the
young lion are plainly indicated. Another story of more
tragic character is given.

The following fact will show the fearful dangers to which
solitary travellers are sometimes exposed. ' A man belonging
to Mr. Schmelen’s. congregation, at Bethany, returning home-
wards from a visit to his friends, took a circuitous course in
order to pass a small fountain, or rather pool, where he hoped
to kill an antelope, to carry home to his family. The -sun
had risen to some height by the time he reached the spot,
and seeing no game, he laid his gun down on a shelving low
rock, the back part of which was covered over with a species
of dwarf thorn-bushes. He went to the water, took a hearty
drink, and returned to the rock, smoked his pipe, and being
a little tired, fell asleep. In a short time the heat reflected
from the rock awoke him, and opening his eyes, he saw a
large lion crouching before him, with its eyes glaring in his

* face, and within little more than a yard of his feet. He sat
motionless for some minutes, till he had recovered his presence
of mind, then eyeing his gun, moved his hand slowly towards
it; the lion seeing him, raised its head, and gave a tremendous
roar; he made another and another attempt, but the gun
being far beyond his reach, he gave it up, as the lion seemed
well aware of his object, and was enraged whenever he
attempted to move his hand. His situation now became
painful in the extreme; the rock on which he sat became

§82 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

so hot that he could scarcely bear his naked feet to touch
it, and kept moving them, alternately placing one above the
other. The day passed, and the night also, but the lion
never moved from the spot; the sun rose again, and its
intense heat soon rendered his feet past feeling. At noon
the lion rose and walked to the water, only a few yards
distant, looking behind as it went, lest the man should move,
and seeing him stretch out his hand to take his gun, turned
in a rage, and was on the point of springing upon him. The
animal went to the water, drank, and returning, lay down
again at the edge of the rock. Another night passed; the
man, in describing it, said, he knew not whether he slept, but
if he did, it must have been with his eyes open, for he always
saw the lion at his feet. Next day, in the forenoon, the
animal went again to the water, and while there, he listened
to some noise apparently from an opposite quarter, and dis-
appeared in the bushes. The man now made another effort,
and seized his gun; but on attempting to rise, he fell, his
ankles being without power. With his gun in his hand, he
crept towards the water, and drank; but looking at his feet,
he saw, as he expressed it, his “toes roasted,” and the skin
torn off with the grass. There he sat a few moments, expect-
ing the lion’s return, when he was resolved to send the
contents of the gun through its head; but as it did not
appear, tying his gun to his back, the poor man made the
best of his way on his hands and knees, to the nearest
path, hoping some solitary individual might pass. He could”
go no farther, when, providentially, a person came up, who
took him to a place of safety, from whence he obtained help,
though he lost his toes, and was a cripple for life.

The preceding lion stories, selected from many more, will
serve for the present to illustrate something of the character
of that noble, but dangerous creature.

Here is another from Moffat, of quite as curious though
rather of the opposite and a more grotesque nature.

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 582

As to his being afraid of the human eye, I shall touch on
that subject in another part of my work, when I describe
those which have tasted human flesh, for which they ever
afterwards retain an uncommon relish. With all their bold-
ness, they are sometimes arrant cowards. On one occasion,
I remember a man who, coming unexpectedly on a lion,
fainted. The lion raised himself to look over the bushes,
7 seeing no one, seemed to suspect a plot, and scampered
off with his tail between his legs. It is but justice to add,
that the man was no less cowardly; for, on awaking from his
swoon, and looking this way and that, he imagined the object
of his terror was still there, and taking to his heels, he made
towards the wagon. I have known Bushmen, and even
women, drive the lion away from the prey he has just seized,
by beating their clubs on dry hides, and shouting; neverthe-
less, by day, and especially by night, he is an object of terror.

Here is yet another, from a Missionary of South Africa,
which is analogous. It is from a narrative of a visit to the
Mauritius and South Africa, by James Backhouse.

A Bushman residing near the Orange river, in the direc-
tion of Hardcastle Kloof, was hunting with some companions,
and observing a considerable number of vultures soaring in
the air, he concluded that some animal had been accidentally
killed, of which he might possibly obtain a share; he therefore
left his companions and repaired to the spot, where he found
a hartebeest lying, off which he drove a number of these birds.
On doing this, a lion, which he supposed had killed the harte-
beest and satisfied its hunger, came from behind a neighboring
bush and growled at him.

Petrified with fear, the Bushman stood perfectly still. The
lion walked round him, so close as to brush him with its tail,
uttering at the same time a low growl; it went to a short
distance and sat down, looking at the Bushman, who kept his
eye upon it and drew back a few paces; but when he drew
back the lion advanced, he therefore stood quite still till the

584 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

lion retired a little and lay down. The Bushman seized the
opportunity, picked up a few straws of dried grass and began
to try to strike a light; but as soon as the lion heard the
tapping of the flint and steel, it rose again and walked around
the Bushman, brushing him as before; again the Bushman
was still, and again the lion retired. The Bushman once
more plied his flint and steel, and again the lion advanced
from his retreat. At this moment the Bushman deed
obtaining a light, but such was his terror that, forgetting
himself, he continued blowing at it till it scorched his face.
The lion made a stand when he saw the flame, and as this
increased when the burning grass was dropped into a dry
bush, the lion fled. The Bushman, who had been thus
detained from noon to sunset, lost no time, when the lion
was sufficiently far gone, in also making his retreat; he said
he had never run so fast before, and when he reached his
companions he was pale and sick with fright. ;
These missionary stories most strikingly illustrate that
mysterious power over “the beasts of the field’’ which is
undoubtedly exercised by all beings, even though they be
degraded Hottentots, who chance to bear the “upturned
countenance” which was stamped upon the human race as
a “sign of dominion.” Cumming gives a still more extraordi-
nary relation of an incident of the same class which happened
to himself. Although this has generally been set down as
an apocryphal anecdote, yet I am, from my own experience
of animals, if not for many, other reasons, disposed to believe
it a real incident, and therefore give it as he tells it literally.
Ruyter came towards me, and I ran forward to obtain a
view beyond a slight rise in the ground to see whither the
lioness had gone. In so doing I came suddenly upon them,
within about seventy yards; they were standing: looking
back at Ruyter. I then very rashly commenced making a
rapia stalk in upon them, and fired at the nearest, having
ouly one shot in my rifle. The ball told loudly, and the

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 585

lioness at which I had fired wheeled right round, and came
on lashing her tail, showing her teeth, and making that
horrid, murderous deep growl which an angry lion generally
utters. At the same moment, her comrade, who seemed
better te know that she was in the presence of man, made a
hasty retreat into the reeds. The instant the lioness came
on, I stood up to my full height, holding my rifle, and my
arms extended, and high above my head. This checked her
in her course; but on looking round and missing her comradé,
and observing Ruyter slowly advancing, she was still more
exasperated, and, fancying that she was being surrounded,
she made another forward movement, growling terribly.
This was a moment of great danger, I felt that my only
chance of safety was extreme steadiness; so, standing
motionless as a rock, with my eyes firmly fixed upon her, I
called out in a clear, commanding voice, “ Holloa! old girl,
what’s the hurry? take it easy; holloa! holloa!’ She
instantly once more halted, and seémed perplexed, looking
round for her comrade. I then thought it prudent to beat
a retreat, which I very slowly did, talking to the lioness all
the time. She seemed undecided as to her future movements,
and was gazing after me and snuffing the ground when I last
beheld her.

But here we have another adventure of his with a lioness,
too, in which he does not prove altogether so successful in
“running his face” upon the roused lady of the wastes.

Suddenly I observed a number of vultures seated on the
plain, about a quarter of a mile ahead of us, and close beside
them stood a huge lioness, consuming a blesbok which she
had killed. She was assisted in her repast by about a dozen
jackals, which were feasting along with her in the most
friendly and confidential manner. Directing my followers’
attention to the spot, I remarked, “I see the lion ;” to which
they replied, “ Whar? whar? Yah! Almagtag! dat is he;”
and instantly reining in their steeds and wheeling about,

586 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

they pressed their heels to their horses’ sides, and were
preparing to betake themselves to flight. I asked them
what they were going to do. To which they answered,
“Wo have not yet placed caps on our rifles.” This was
true; but while this short conversation was passing, the
lioness had observed us. Raising her full, round face, she.
overhauled us for a few seconds, and then set off at a smart
canter towards a range of mountains some miles to the north-
Ward; the whole troop of jackals also started off in another
direction ; there was, therefore, no time to think of caps.
The first move was to bring her to bay, and not a second
was to be lost. Spurring my good and lively steed, and
shouting to my men to follow, I flew across the plain, and,
being fortunately mounted on Colesburg, the flower of my
stud, I gained upon her at every stride. This was to me a
joyful moment, and I at once made up my mind that she or
I must die. 3

The lioness having had a long start of me, we went over
a considerable extent of ground before I came up with her.
She was a large, full-grown beast, and the bare and level
nature of the plain added to her imposing appearance.
Finding that I gained upon her, she reduced her pace from
a canter to a trot, carrying her tail stuck out behind her,
and slewed a little to one side. I shouted loudly to her to
halt, as I wished to speak with her, upon which she suddenly
pulled up, and sat on her haunches like a dog, with her
back towards me, not even deigning to look round. She
then appeared to say to herself, “‘ Does this fellow know who
he is after?’ Having thus sat for half a minute, as if
involved in thought, she sprang to her feet, and, facing
about, stood looking at me for a few seconds, moving her
tail slowly from side to side, showing her teeth, and growling
fiercely. She next made a short run forward, making a
toud, rumbling noise like thunder. This she did to intimidate
me; but, finding that I did not flinch an inch nor seem to

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 587

heed her hostile demonstrations, she quietly stretched out
her massive arms, and lay down 6n the grass. My Hottentots
now coming up, we all three dismounted, and, drawing our
rifles from their holsters, we looked to see if the powder was
up in the nipples, and put on our caps. While this was
doing the lioness sat up, and showed evident symptoms of
uneasiness. She looked first at us, and then behind her, as
if to see if the coast were clear; after which she made a
short run towards us, uttering her deep-drawn, murderous
growls. Having secured the three horses to one another by
their rheims, we led them on as if we intended to pass her,
in the hope of obtaining a broadside. But this she carefully
avoided to expose, presenting only her full front. I had
given Stofolus’ my Moore rifle, with orders to shoot her if
she should spring upon me, but on no account to fire before
me. Kleinboy was to stand ready to hand me my Purdey
rifle, in case the two-grooved Dixon should not prove sufficient.
My men as yet had been steady, but they were in a precious
stew, their faces having assumed a ghastly paleness, and
I had a painful feeling that I could place no reliance on
them.

Now, then, for it, neck or nothing! She is within sixty
yards of us, and she keeps advancing. We turned the horses’
tails to her. I knelt on one side, and, taking a steady aim
at her breast, let fly. The ball cracked loudly on her tawny
hide, and crippled her in the shoulder, upon which she
charged with an appalling roar, and in the twinkling of an
eye she was in the midst of us. At this moment Stofolus’s
rifle exploded in his hand, and Kleinboy, whom I had ordered
to stand ready by me, danced about like a duck in a gale
of wind. ‘The lioness sprang upon Colesburg, and fearfully
lacorated his ribs and haunches with her horrid teeth and
claws; the worst wound was on his haunch, which exhibited a
sickening, yawning gash, more than twelve inches long, almost
laying bare the very bone. I was very cool and steady, and

588 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

did not feel in the least degree nervous, having fortunately
great confidence in my own shooting; but I must confess,
when the whole affair was over, I felt that it was a very
awful situation, and attended with extreme peril, as I had no
friend with me on whom I could rely.

When the lioness sprang on Colesburg, I stood out from
the horses, ready with my second barrel for the first chance
she should give me of a clear shot. This she quickly did;
for, seemingly satisfied with the revenge she had now taken,
she quitted Colesburg, and, slewing her tail to one side,
trotted sulkily past within a few paces of me, taking one
step to the left. I pitched my rifle to my shoulder, and in
another second the lioness was stretched on the plain a
lifeless corpse. In the struggles of death she half turned
on her back, and stretched her neck and fore arms con-
vulsively, when she fell back to her former position; her
mighty arms hung powerless by her side, her lower jaw fell,
blood streamed from her mouth, and she expired. At the
moment I fired my second shot, Stofolus, who hardly knew
whether he was alive or dead, allowed the three horses to
escape. These galloped frantically across the plain, on
which he and Kleinboy instantly started after them, leaving
me standing alone and unarmed within a few paces of the
lioness, which they, from their anxiety to be out of the way,
evidently considered quite capable of doing further mischief.

Such is ever the case with these worthies, and with nearly
all the natives of South Africa. No reliance can be placed
on them. They will to a certainty forsake their master in
the most dastardly manner in the hour of peril, and leave
him in the lurch. A stranger, however, hearing these
fellows recounting their own gallant adventures, when sitting
in the evening along with their comrades round a blazing
fire, or under the influence of their adored “Cape smoke”
or native brandy, might fancy them to be the bravest of the
brave. Having skinned the lioness and cut off her head, we

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 589

placed her trophies upon Beauty and held for camp Before
we had proceeded a hundred yards from the carcass, upwards
of sixty vultures, whom the lioness had often fed, were
feasting on her remains.

These tawny ladies appear to have a temper of their own,
in common with the sex generally; indeed, it appears to be
the united testimony of travellers, that the lioness is most
apt to be aggressively dangerous when she has cubs; while
the attacks of the lion are only to be greatly dreaded when
wounded, while he stands on the defensive. Harris, however,
exhibits the monarch in one of those grand and terrible out-
bursts of apparently causeless wrath, to which he, in common
with the elephant and all the larger beasts, seem to be subject,
both in their native wilds and in confinement. Here is his
story.

Peeping out, however, to ascertain if there was any
prospect of its clearing up, we perceived three lions squttted
within a hundred yards, in the open plain, attentively
watching the oxen. Our rifles were hastily seized, but the

dampness of the atmosphere prevented their exploding. One
after another, too, the Hottentots sprang out of the pack
wagon, and snapped their guns at the unwelcome intruders,
as they trotted sulkily away, and took up their position on
a stony eminence at no great distance. Fresh caps and
priming were applied, and a broadside was followed by the
instantaneous demise of the largest, whose cranium was
perforated by two bullets at the same instant. Swinging
their tails over their backs, the two survivors took warning
by the fate of their companion, and dashed into the thicket
with a roar. In another half hour the voice of Leo was
again heard at the foot of the mountains, about a quarter
of a mile from the camp; and from the wagon top we could
perceive a savage monster rampant, with his tail hoisted and
whirling in a circle, charging furiously along the base of the
range, and in desperate wrath, making towards Jobn April,

590 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

who was tending the sheep. Every one instinctively grasped
his weapon, and rushed to the rescue, calling loudly to warn
the: expected victim of his danger. Without taking the
smallest notice of him, however, the infuriated monster
dashed past, roaring and lashing his sides, until concealed
in the mist. Those who have seen the savage monarch of
the forest, in crippled captivity only, immured in a cage
barely double his own length, with his sinews relaxed by
confinement, have seen but the shadow of that animal which
“clears the desert with his rolling eye..”

This is by far the noblest picture of the king of brutes in
all the magnificence of his freedom, and terror of his might
and wrath, that I remember in the whole range of this species
of literature. The simple grandeur of the recital is in most
unfavorable contrast with a rather sputtering attempt, on the
part of Cumming, to “do up the sublime,” in his description
of a@rencontre with the dreaded ‘man-eater lion,” which
carried off one of his men at night from the midst of his
camp, and was next day slain by him. There is such huge
overstraining of epithetical horrors on the part of the narrator
of an event, sufficiently hideous in itself, that I decline
inserting it here—but shall quote instead from the gallant
Missionary, Moffat, a much more modest and comprehensible
account of an incident something parallel, which will at least
convey a most clear idea of what the appetite of a lion is, as
well as something of the dangers from them to be encountered
by the traveller in South Africa.

Having put my wagon in order, taken a driver, and a little
boy as leader of the oxen, and two Barolongs, who were going
to the same place, I left the station, my wife and family, for
an absence of two or three months. Our journey lay over a
wild and dreary country, inhabited by Balalas only, and but
a sprinkling of these.- On the night of the third day’s
journey, having halted at a pool, (Khokhole), we listened,
on the lonely plain, for the sound of an inhabitant, but all

i

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 691

was silent. We could discover no lights, and, amid the dark-
ness, were unable to trace footmarks to the pool. We let
loose our wearied oxen to drink and graze, but as we were
ignorant of the character of the company with which we
might have to spend the night, we took a firebrand, and
examined the edges of the pool to see, from the imprints,
what animals were in the habit of drinking there, and, with
terror, discovered many spoors of lions. We immediately
collected the oxen, and brought them to the wagon, to which
we fastened them with the strongest thongs we had, having
discovered in their appearance something rather wild, indi-
cating that either from scent or sight, they knew danger was
near. The two Barolongs had brought a young cow with
them, and though I recommended their making her fast also,
they very humorously replied that she was too wise to leave
the wagon and oxen, even though a lion should be scented.
We took a little supper, which was followed by our evening
hymn, and prayer. I had retired only a few minutes to my
wagon to prepare for the night, when the whole of the oxen
started to their feet.

A lion had seized the cow only a few steps from their tails,
and dragged it to the distance of thirty or forty yards, where
we distinctly heard it tearing the animal, and breaking the
bones, while its bellowings were most pitiful. When these
were over, I seized my gun, but as it was too dark to see any
object at half the distance, I aimed at the spot where the
devouring jaws of the lion were heard. I fired again and
again, to which he replied with tremendous roars, at the
same time making a rush towards the wagon, so as exceed-
ingly to terrify the oxen. The two Barolongs engaged to
take firebrands, advance a few yards, and throw them at him,
so as to afford me a degree of light, that I might take aim,
the place being bushy. They had scarcely discharged them
from their hands, when, the flame went out, and the enraged
animal rushed towards them with such swiftness, that I had

592 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

barely time to turn the gun and fire between the men and the
lion, and providentially the ball struck the ground imme-
diately under his head, as we found by examination the
following morning. From this surprise he returned, growling
dreadfully. The men darted through some thorn-bushes
with countenances indicative of the utmost terror. It was
now the opinion of all that we had better let him alone if
he did not molest us.

Having but a scanty supply of wood to keep up a fire, one
man crept among the bushes on one side of the pool, while I
proceeded for the same purpose on the other side. I had not
gone far, when, looking upward to the edge of the small basin,
I discerned between me and the sky four animals, whose
attention appeared to be directed to me, by the noise I made
in breaking a dry stick. On closer inspection, I found that
the large, round, hairy-headed visiters were lions; and
retreated on my hands and feet towards the other side of
the pool, when coming to my wagon-driver, to inform him
of our danger, I found him looking, with no little alarm, in
an opposite direction, and with good reason, as no fewer than
two lions, with a cub,»were eyeing us both, apparently as
uncertain about us as we were distrustful of them. They
appeared, as they always do in the dark, twice the usual size.
We thankfully decamped to the wagon, and sat down to keep
alive our scanty fire, while we listened to the lion tearing and
devouring his prey. When any of the other hungry lions
dared to approach, he would pursue them for some paces,
with a horrible howl, which made our poor oxen tremble, and
produced any thing but agreeable sensations in ourselves.
We had reason for alarm, lest any of the six lions we saw,
fearless of our small fire, might rush in among us. The two
Barolongs were grudging the lion his fat meal, and would
now and then break the silence with a deep sigh, and expres-
sions of regret that such a vagabond lion should have such a
feast on their cow, which they anticipated would have afforded

ADVENTURES WITH LIONS. 593

them many a draught of luscious milk. Before the day
dawned, having deposited nearly the whole of the carcass in
his stomach, he collected the head, back bone, parts of the
legs, the paunch, which he emptied of its contents, and the
two clubs which had been thrown at him, and walked off,
leaving nothing but some fragments of bones, and one of my
balls, which had hit the carcass instead of himself.

When it was light we examined the spot, and found, from
the foot-marks, that the lion was a large one, and had
devoured the cow himself. I had some difficulty in believing
this, but was fully convinced by the Barolongs pointing out
to me that the foot-marks of the other lions had not come
within thirty yards of the spot, two jackals only had
approached to lick up any little leavings. The men pursued
the spoor to find the fragments, where the lion had deposited
them, while he retired to a thicket to sleep during the day.
I had often heard how much a large, hungry lion would eat,
but nothing less than a demonstration would have convinced
me that it was possible for him to have eaten all the flesh of
a good heifer, and many of the bones, for scarcely a rib was
left, and even some of the marrow bones were broke as if
with a hammer.

After this, I think the curiosity of few would carry them
so far as to desire to test the appetite of a hungry South
African lion under any circumstances, where “proxy” could
not conveniently be substituted as in this case, with the poor
cow. Here I wili take leave of the South African lion with
the remark, that with all the grandeur of his roarings, his
strength, and his appetite, he is on the whole a most pusil-
lanimous sneak; and in consistent ferocity, is not near so
much to be dreaded, or so formidable, indeed, as our Grisly
Bear, which is not only fully his equal in strength, but sur-
passes him in courage altogether.

38

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE RHINOCEROS AND HIPPOPOTAMUS.

Our African adventurers plume themselves evidently upon
having out-Heroded the Herods of all previous Romance of
Hunting—in having capped the climax of dashing extrava-
gance, by combatting both behemoth and the unicorn in
their own meadows and beneath forests as hoar as their
renown. It certainly constitutes a very striking element
of true romancc—this picture of two young men penetrating
the most ancient solitudes of earth, to battle, single-handed,
with these sule representatives of monsters before the Flood,
whose huge remains now fill the generations with such awe!

594

BEHEMOTH AND THE UNICORN. 595

Verily the rifle has brought us back to the antediluvian
prowess of that period, concerning which it is recorded, as
I have before remarked,—“‘and there were giants in those
days!”

Cumming, in his off-hand way, thus introduces us to the
unicorn.

Of the rhinoceros there are four varieties in South
Africa, distinguished by the Bechuanas by the names of
the borélé, or black rhinoceros, the keitloa, or two-horned
black rhinoceros, the muchoch», or common white rhinocercs,
and the kobaoba, or long-horned white rhinoceros. Both
varieties of the black rhinoceros are extremely fierce and
dangerous, and rush headlong and unprovoked at any object
which attracts their attention. They never attain much fat,
and their flesh is tough, and not much esteemed by the
Bechuanas. Their food consists almost entirely of the
thorny branches of the wait-a-bit thorns. Their horns are
much shorter than those of the other varieties, seldom
exceeding eighteen inches in length. They are finely
polished with constant rubbing against the trees. The skull
is remarkably formed, its most striking feature being the
tremendous thick ossification in which it ends above the
nostrils. It is on this mass that the horn is supported.
The horns are not connected with the skull, being attached
merely by the skin, and they may thus be separated from
the head by means of a sharp knife. They are hard and
perfectly solid throughout, and are a fine material for
yarious articles, such as drinking-cups, mallets for rifles,
handles for turner’s tools, &. &. The horn is capable
of a very high polish. The eyes of the rhinoceros are
small and sparkling, and do not readily observe the
hunter, provided he keeps to leeward of them. The skin
is extremely thick, and only to be penetrated by bullets
hardened with solder. During the day the rhinoceros will
be found lying asleep or standing indolently in some retired

596 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

part of the forest, or under the base of the mountains,
sheltered from the power of the sun by some friendly grove
of umbrella-topped mimosas. In the evening they commence
their nightly ramble, and wander over a great extent of
country. They usually visit the fountains between the hours
of nine and twelve o’clock at night, and it is on these
occasions that they may be most successfully hunted, and
with the least danger. The black rhinoceros is subject to
paroxysms of unprovoked fury, often ploughing up the
ground for several yards with its horn, and assaulting large
bushes in the most violent manner. On these bushes they
work for hours with their horns, at the same time snorting
and blowing loudly, nor do they leave them in general until
they have broken them into pieces. The rhinoceros is sup-
posed by many, and by myself among the rest, to be the animal
alluded to by Job, chap. xxxix., verses 10 and 11, where it
is written, ‘‘Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in
the furrow? or will he harrow the valleys after thee? Wilt
thou trust him because his strength is great? or wilt thou
leave thy labor to him?” evidently alluding to an animal
possessed of great strength and of untameable disposition,
for both of which the rhinoceros is remarkable. All the
four varieties delight to roll and wallow in mud, with which
their rugged hides are generally incrusted. Both varieties
of the black rhinoceros are much smaller and more active
than the white, and are so swift that a horse with a rider
on his back can rarely overtake them. ‘The two varieties
of the white rhinoceros are so similar in habits, that the
description of one will serve for both, the principal difference
consisting in the length and set of the anterior horn; that
of the muchocho averaging from two to three feet in length,
and pointing backwards, while the horn of the kobaoba often
exceeds four feet in length, and inclines forward from the
nose at an angle of forty-five degrees. The posterior horn
nf either species seldom exceeds six or seven inches in

BEHEMOTH AND THE UNICORN. 597

length. The kobaoba is the rarer of the two, and it is found
very far in the interior, chiefly to the eastward of the
Limpopo. Its horns are very valuable for loading rods,
supplying a substance at once suitable for a sporting imple-
ment and excellent for the purpose. Both these varieties of
rhinoceros attain an enormous size, being the animals next
in magnitude to the elephant. They feed solely on grass,
carry much fat, and their flesh is excellent, being preferable
to beef. They are of a much milder and more inoffensive
disposition than the black rhinoceros, rarely charging their
pursuer. Their speed is very inferior to that of the other
varieties, and a person well mounted can overtake and shoot
them. The head of these is a foot longer than that of the
borélé.. They generally carry their heads low, whereas the
borélé, when disturbed, carries his very high, which imparts
to him a saucy and independent air. Unlike the elephants,
they never associate in herds, but are met with singly or in
pairs. In districts where they are abundant, from three to
six may be found ijn company, and I once saw upward of a
dozen congregated together on some young grass, but such
an occurrence is rare.

Here, too, is his first introduction to the unicorn.

Shortly after this I found myself on the banks of the
stream beside which my wagons were outspanned. Follow-
ing along its margin, I presently beheld a bull of the borélé,
or black rhinoceros, standing within a hundred yards of me.
Dismounting from my horse, I secured him to a tree, and
then stalked within twenty yards of the huge beast, under
cover of a large, strong bush. Borélé, hearing me advance,
came on to see what it was, and suddenly protruded his
horny nose within twenty yards of me. Knowing well that
a front shot would not prove deadly, I sprang to my feet
and ran behind the bush. Upon this the villain charged,
blowing loudly, and chased me round the bush. Had his
activity been equal to his ugliness, my wanderings would

598 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

have terminated here, but by my superior agility I had the
advantage in the turn. After standing a short time, eyeing
me through the bush, he got a whiff of my wind, which at
once alarmed him. Uttering a blowing noise, and erecting
his insignificant yet saucy-looking tail, he wheeled about,
leaving me master of the field, when I sent a bullet through
his ribs, to teach him manners.

But the most extraordinary fact connected with the history
of the rhinoceros comes under the observation of Cumming
immediately after this incident. It is thus introduced :—

On the forenoon of the 23d a native came and informed
me that he had discovered a white rhinoceros lying asleep in
a thick cover to the south. I accordingly accompanied him to
the spot, and commenced stalking in upon the vast muchocho.
He was lying asleep beneath a shady tree, and his appearance
reminded me of an enormous hog, which in shape he slightly
resembles. He kept constantly flapping his ears, which they
invariably do when sleeping. Before I could reach the proper
distance to fire, several “rhinoceros birds,’ by which he was
attended, warned him of his impending danger by sticking
their bills into his ear, and uttering their harsh, grating cry.
Thus aroused, he suddenly sprang to his feet and crashed
away through the jungle at a rapid trot, and I saw no more
of him.

These rhinoceros birds are constant attendants upon the
hippopotamus and the four varieties of rhinoceros, their
object being to feed upon the ticks and other parisitic insects
that swarm upon these animals. They are of a grayish color,
and are nearly as large as a common thrush; their voice is
very similar to that of the mistletoe thrush. Many a time
have these ever-watchful birds disappointed me in my stalk,
and tempted me to invoke an anathema upon their devoted
heads. They are the best friends the rhinoceros has, and
rarely fail to awaken him even in his soundest nap. ‘ Chu-
kuroo” perfectly understands their warning, and, springing

BEHEMOTH AND THE UNICORN. 599

to his feet, he generally first looks about him in every direc
tion, after which he invariably makes off. I have often
hunted a rhinoceros on horseback, which led me a chase of
many miles, and required a number of shots before he fell,
during which chase several of these birds remained by the
rhinoceros to the last. They reminded me of mariners on
the deck of some bark sailing on the ocean, for they perched
along his back and sides; and as each of my bullets told on
the shoulder of the rhinoceros, they ascended about six feet
into the air, uttering their harsh cry of alarm, and then
resumed their position. It sometimes happened that the
lower branches of trees, under which the rhinoceros passed,
swept them from their living deck, but they always recovered
their former station; they also adhere to the rhinoceros
during the night. I have often shot these animals at mid-
night, when drinking at the fountains, and the birds, imagining
they were asleep, remained with them till morning, and on
my approaching, before taking flight, they exerted them
selves to their utmost to awaken Chukuroo from his deep
sleep.

This account of the bird guardians of the rhinoceros,
though apparently extravagant, is not without many corres-
pondencies throughout the natural world. We have among
us a familiar instance in the habits of the cow-pen bird.
Audubon says, concerning it:

This species derives its name from the circumstance of its
frequenting cow-pens. In this respect it greatly resembles
the European starling. Like that bird it follows the cattle
in the fields, often alights on their backs, and may be seen
diligently searching for worms and larve among their dung.
In spring, the cattle in many parts of the United States are
much infested with intestinal worms, which they pass in great
quantities, and on these the cow-bird frequently makes a

delicious repast.
Of the abundance of the rhinoceros in the upper part of

600 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the valley of the Limpopo, Harris gives us the following
graphic sketch :

The country now literally presented the appearance of a
menagerie; the host of rhinoceroses in particular that daily
exhibited themselves, almost exceeding belief. Whilst the
camp was being formed, an ugly head might be seen pro-
truded from every bush, and the possession of the ground
was often stoutly disputed. In the field, these animals lost
no opportunity of making themselves obnoxious—frequently
charging at my elbow, when in the act of drawing the trigger
at some object—and pursuing our horses with indefatigable
and ludicrous industry, carrrying their noses close to the
ground, moving with a mincing gait, which ill-beseemed so
ungainly and ponderous a quadruped, and uttering the while,
a sound between a grunt and a smothered whistle. In remov-
ing the horn with an axe, the brain was discovered seated in
a cavity below it, at the very extremity of the snout—a phe-
nomenon in the idiosyncracy of this animal, which may in
some measure account for its want of intelligence and piggish
obstinacy, as well as for the extraordinary acuteness of smell
with which it is endowed. Irrascible beyond all other quad-
rupeds, the African rhinoceros appears subject even to unpro-
voked paroxysms of reckless fury; but the sphere of vision is
so exceedingly limited, that its attacks, though sudden and
impetuous, are easily eluded, and a shot behind the shoulder,
discharged from the distance of twenty or thirty yards,
generally proves fatal. =

On our way from the wagons to a hill, not half a mile
distant, we counted no less than twenty-two of the white
species of rhinoceros, and were compelled in self-defence to
slaughter four. On another occasion, I was besieged in a
bush by three at once, and had no little difficulty in beating
off the assailants.

But we will dismiss this fierce, grotesque, and ridiculous
animal, with the following striking remark from Moffat, which

BEHEMOTH AND THE UNICORN. 601

exhibits its prodigious strength in a more formidable light
than any thing else we have yet heard of it. He says,
speaking of the black rhinoceros:

‘They fear no enemy but man, and are fearless of him when
wounded and pursued. The lion flies before them like a cat;
the mohohu, the largest species, has been known even to kill
the elephant, by thrusting his horn into his ribs.

But Harris’s account of behemoth is too graphic to be
omitted or amended. Here it is:

Of all the mammalia, whose portraits, drawn from ill-stuffed
specimens, have been foisted upon the world, the Behemoth
has perhaps been the most ludicrously misrepresented. I
sought in vain for the colossal head—for those cavern-like
jaws, garnished with elephantine tusks—or those ponderous
feet with which “the formidable and ferocious quadruped”’ is
wont “to trample down whole fields of corn during a single
night.” Defenceless and inoffensive, his shapeless carcass is
but feebly supported upon short and disproportioned legs, and
his belly almost trailing upon the ground, he may not inaptly
be likened to an overgrown “prize pig.” The color is pinkish
brown, clouded: and freckled with a darker tint. Of many
that we shot, the largest measured less than five feet at the
shoulder ; and the reality falling so lamentably short of the
monstrous conception I had formed, the “river horse’ or
“sea, cow,” was the first, and indeed the only South African
quadruped in which I felt disappointed.

Our next movement brought us to the source of the Oori
or Limpopo—the gareep of Moselekatse’s deminions. Led
by many fine streams from the Cashan range, this enchanting
river springs into existence as if by magic; and rolling its
deep and tranquil waters between tiers of weeping willows,
through a passage in the mountain barrier, takes its course
to the northward. Here we enjoyed the novel diversion of
hippopotamus shooting, that animal abounding in the Lim-
popo; and dividing the empire with its amphibious neighbor,

602 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

the crocodile. Throughout the night, the unwieldy monsters
might be heard snorting and blowing during their aquatic
gambols, and we not unfrequently detected them in the act
of sallying from their reed-grown coverts to graze by light
of the moon; never, however, venturing to any distance from
‘ the river, the strong-hold to which they betake themselves on
the smallest alarm. Occasionally during the day they were
to be seen basking on the shore amid oose and mud, but
shots were more constantly to be had at their. uncouth heads
when protruded from the water to draw breath, and if killed,
the body rose to the surface. Vulnerable only behind the
ear, however, or in the eye, which is placed in a prominence
so as to resemble the garret window in a dutch house, they
require the perfection of rifle practice, and after a few shots,
become exceedingly shy, exhibiting the snout only, and as
instantly withdrawing it. The flesh is delicious, resembling
pork in flavor, and abounding in fat, which in the colony is
deservedly esteemed the greatest of delicacies. The hide is
upward of an inch and a half in thickness, and being scarcely
flexible may be drawn from the ribs in strips, like the planks
from a ship’s side. Of these are manufactured a superior
description of jambok, the elastic whip already noticed as
being an indispensable piece of furniture to every boor pro-
ceeding on a journey. Our followers encumbered the wagons
with a large investment of them, and of the canine teeth, the
ivory of which is extremely profitable.

It is truly surprising how completely a little cool common
sense will sometimes strip a favorite marvel of all prodigious
attributes. The thing was never more completely done than
by Harris. in this instance. Being a clever artist himself,
he took sketches of the animal on the spot; which fully
confirm his words, if they were not equally strengthened by
other travellers in the same region. But Mr. Cumming,
however, has chosen to dissent from him after a fashion so
peculiarly his own, that I cannot, among other reasons,

BEHEMOTH AND THE UNICORN. 603

resist giving it for the contrast between the mental habitudes
of the two men it affords. While Harris is simply content
with giving a clear and effective delineation of what he sees,
Cumming is so egregiously beset with the mania for the pro-
di-gi-ous and for the amplification of his own deeds, that it is
evident if he had chanced to have seriously encowntered
‘‘rats” during his “five years in South Africa,” they would
have been nothing short of mammoth rats—or colossal
at the very least. He had come upon a herd of fourteen
hippopotami, several of which he had already wounded and
lost, having made his first shot at one which temporarily
escaped. He says of it—

The one I had first shot was now resting with half her
body above water on a sand-bank in the Limpopo. From
this resting-place I started her with one shot in the shoulder
and another in the side of the head; this last shot set
her in motion once more, and she commenced struggling
in the water in the most extraordinary manner, disappearing
for a few seconds, and then coming up like a great whale,
setting the whole river in an uproar. Presently she took
away down the stream, holding to the other side; but,
again returning, I finished her with a shot in the middle
of the forehead. This proved a most magnificent specimen
of the female of the wondrous hippopotamus, an animal with
which I was extremely surprised and delighted. She far
surpassed the brightest conceptions I had formed of her,
being a larger, a more lively, and in every way a more
interesting animal that certain writers had led me to expect.

The “certain writers” alluded to so significantly, must
include our friend Harris, who so clearly differs with the
enthusiastic elephant-hunter in his admiring appreciation of
the sprightly graces of the sea-cow. It is always a pity
when doctors disagree, but it rather seems like adding insult
to injury on the part of Cumming, when he first steals from
his master Harris, and then snubs him.

CHAPTER XXIX.
BUFFALO AND ANTELOPES OF SOUTH AFRICA.

AFTER treating of Behemoth, I suppose buffalo and
antelopes must be classed as small game, although the
Buffalo is represented as a larger animal than our Bison,
and the Eland, which is classed as an antelope, “not
unfrequently attains the height of nineteen hands, and
weighing two thousand pounds!’ Tolerable specimens these
of small game for any country! but we have to admit that
all things are comparative, and where the giraffe of nineteen
feet is the standard in height and the elephant of bulk, the
processes in dimuendo must necessarily be slow.

This South African is undoubtedly the true Buffalo, and
is in some respects individually a more formidable animal
than that known by the same name upon our plains. Harris
speaks of a specimen of the African buffalo slain by him,
standing sixteen hands and a half at the shoulder; his
ponderous horns, measuring four feet from tip to tip, like a
mass of rock, overshadowing his small, sinister, gray eyes,
imparting a cunning gloom and vindictive expression to its
head, which was of such weight that one powerful man could
with difficulty lift it into the wagon; Cumming, however,
surpasses him, as usual, since it required the utmost strength
of two men to lift the head of a similar monster he slew!
He says—

I ordered the Bechuanas to release the dogs; and spurring
Colesberg, which I rode for the first time since the affair
with the lioness, I gave chase. The buffaloes crossed the

604

AFRICAN SMALL GAME. 605

valley in front of me, and made for a succession of dense
thickets in the hills to the northward.. As they crossed
the valley, by riding hard I obtained a broadside shot at
the last bull, and fired both barrels into him. He, however,
continued his course, but I presently separated him, along
with two other bulls, from the troop. My rifle being a
two-grooved, which is hard to load, I was unable to do so
on horseback, and followed with it empty, in the hope of
bringing them to bay. In passing through a grove of
thorny trees I lost sight of the wounded buffalo; he had
turned short and doubled back, a common practice with them
when wounded. After following the other two at a hard
gallop for about two miles, I was riding within five yards
of their huge broad sterns. They exhaled a strong bovine
smell, which came hot in my face. I expected every minute
that they would come to bay, and give me time to load; but
this they did not seem disposed to do. At length, finding I
had the speed of them, I increased my pace; and going
ahead, I placed myself right before the finest bull, thus
expecting to force him to stand at bay; upon which he
instantly charged me with a low roar, very similar to the
voice of a lion. Colesberg neatly avoided the charge, and
the bull resumed his northward course. We now entered on
rocky ground, and the forest became more dense as we pro- °
ceeded. The buffaloes were evidently making for some strong
retreat. I, however, managed with much difficulty to hold
them in view, following, as best I could, through thorny
thickets. Isaac rode some hundreds yards behind, and kept
shouting to me to drop the pursuit, or I should be killed. At
last the buffaloes suddenly pulled up, and stood at bay in a
thicket within twenty. yards of me. Springing from my
horse, I hastily loaded my. two-grooved rifle, which I had
scarcely completed when Isaac rode up and inquired what
had become of the buffaloes, little dreaming that they were
standing within twenty yards of him. I answered by pointing

606 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

my rifle across his horse’s nose, and letting fly sharp right
and left at the two buffaloes. A headlong charge, accom-
panied by a muffled roar, was the result. In an instant I
was round a clump of tangled thorn trees; but Isaac, by the
violence of his efforts to get his horse in motion, lost his
balance, and at, the same instant, his girths giving way, him-
self, his saddle, and big Dutch rifle, all came to the ground
together, with a heavy crash, right in the path of the infu-
riated buffaloes. Two of the dogs, which had fortunately
that moment joined us, met them in their charge, and, by
diverting their attention, probably saved Isaac from instant
destruction. The buffaloes now took up another position in
an adjoining thicket. They were both badly wounded,
blotches and pools of blood marking the ground where they
had stood. The dogs rendered me assistance by taking up
their attention, and in a few minutes these two noble bulls
breathed their last beneath the shade of a mimosa grove.
Each of them, in dying, repeatedly uttered a very striking,
low, deep moan. This I subsequently ascertained the buffalo
invariably utters when in the act of expiring.

On going up to them, I was astonished to behold their size
and powerful appearance. Their horns reminded me of the
rugged trunk of an oak tree. Each horn was upward of a
foot in breadth at the base, and together they effectually
protected the skull with a massive and impenetrable shield.
The horns, descending, and spreading out horizontally, com-
pletely overshadowed the animal’s eyes, imparting to him a
look the most ferocious and sinister that can be imagined.

This conveys to us a striking picture of the power and
prowess of the individual animal, but; although: these gentle-
men are, with perhaps pardonable exaggeration, constantly
using the term “vast,” in reference to the herds of buffalo
encountered by them in these regions, yet I am compelled
to classify this use of a word so significant along with that
they uniformly make of forest, which after all means in

AFRICAN SMALL GAME. 607

reality, according to their own showing, nothing more than
what we term “bushy woodlands”—hbeing groves of mimosa
bushes or shrubs, eighteen or nineteen feet in height, on the
tops of which the giraffe is represented as browsing. It
sounds about as droll to a backwoodsman’s ears to hear these
shrubs called forest trees, as it would to hear a herd of three
thousand buffaloes called “vast,” when armies of hundreds
of thousands, or even millions, are by no means considered
either extraordinary or unusual on our plains. Things are
comparative in more ways than one; and although the
African buffalo may stand higher on its legs than our bison,
the bulk is certainly not greater. And as for the petty herds
in which it moves, expressing anything of that indescribable
grandeur with which the American animal is poured along in
countless shaggy legions over trembling plains, the very idea
of comparison is like that of a mill-tail to Niagara; or the
dangers of shooting cowardly lions, helpless sea-cows,
peaceful elephants and harmless giraffes, amidst the stupid,
poorly armed, half-monkey tribes of Africa, accompanied
by huge wains, lumbered with the luxuries of wines, cigars,
tea, coffee and bread,—with the perils to be faced by the
wild border hunter of America!

Mounted on his mustang, with the occasional luxury of
a pack mule and coffee and sugar for the first week out,
the Borderer will traverse thousands of miles alone, armed
with rifle and knife, through desert regions, scoure: by
the fiercest, most cruel, the best mounted Nomads in the
world, whom he must baffle wile with wile and force by
force—will meet, single-handed, the terrible Grisly Bear
that knows no panic, and cannot be turned aside when
roused, even by fire—or cross, unscathed, the thundering
track of myriad Bisons; and think himself very lucky, if,
at the end of a year or two, after having eaten up his
saddle skirts and made soup of his moccasins some half
dozen times—he gets back to a trading post or settlement,

608 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

and can obtain a taste once more of a “corn dodger,” and
a little “‘bald-face” or “old rye!”

These are what we call Hunters in America, and such
are the comparative conditions of suffering and danger in
the life here and in South Africa! yet Harris, on his return
from his South African Expedition, with great simplicity,
enumerates it among his other hardships, that he had lived
for four or five months upon nothing but the monotonous
round of tea, coffee, brandy, bread and meat!!!!

Our Hunters and Hunter-Naituralists do not withal con-
sider themselves heroes by any means—and would laugh at
you for the supposition ; such things are too much matters of
course with them. Yet I do not the less respect the manly
and dashing achievements of these British South African ~
adventurers, nor hesitate to deny to them in their fine zeal
for ‘specimens,”’ the true and hardy spirit of the Hunter-
Naturalist. I would insist, nevertheless, upon having it
understood, as before hinted, that some things are compara-
tive as well as others. With one moré short picture from
Harris, I am done with the buffalo. He says—while on the
Limpopo—

Wild buffaloes, too, might often be seen from the wagons.
Riding up a narrow defile, flanked by steep banks, I one
morning found myself suddenly confronted with the van of
a vast troop of these formidable animals, which were ascend-
ing from the opposite: side—their malevolent gray eyes
scowling beneath a threatening brow. Unable to turn,
they must have charged over me, had my horse not contrived
to scramble up the bank; from the top of which I fired both
barrels into the leader, a ponderous bull, whose appearance
stamped him father of the herd. Falling on his knees, the
patriarch was instantly trampled under foot by his followers
as they charged, bellowing, in close squadrons down the
declivity, with the fury of a passing whirlwind, and making
the woods re-echo to the clatter of their hoofs.

AFRICAN SMALL GAME. 609

But the only South African animal which at all approxi-
mates in its habits the prodigious migratory movements of
our bison, is a beautiful antelope of the smaller species,
alled by the Dutch Boers the Springbok. Cumming thus
describes his first sight of the migrations of the springbok—

A person. anxious to kill many springboks might have
bagged thirty or forty that morning. I never, in all my
subsequent career, fell in with so dense a herd of antelopes,
nor found them allow me to ride so near them. Having
inspanned, we proceeded with the wagons to take up the
fallen game. Vast and surprising as was the herd of spring-
boks which I had that morning witnessed, it was infinitely
supassed by what I beheld on the march from my vley to
old Sweir’s camp; for, on our clearing the low range of hills
through which the springboks had been pouring, I beheld
the boundless plains, and even the hill sides which stretched
away on every side of me, thickly covered, not with “ herds,”
but with “one vast herd” of springboks; far as the eye could
strain the landscape was alive with them, until they softened
down into a red mass of living creatures.

To endeavor to form any idea of the amount of antelopes
which I that day beheld, were vain; but I have, nevertheless,
no hesitation in stating that some hundreds of thousands of
springboks were that morning within the compass of my
vision, Old Sweirs acknowledged that it was a very fair
“trek-bokken,” but observed that it was not many when
compared with what he had seen. “You, this morning,”
he remarked, “behold only one flat covered with spring-
boks, but I give you my word that I have ridden a long
day’s journey over a succession of flats covered with them, as
far as I could see, as thick as sheep standing in a fold.”

My limits press upon me so, that, with regret, I take
leave of the antelopes, the most brilliant and interesting of
the groups of African game, with a parting glimpse of the

39

610 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS.

magnificent riches of the great valley of the J.impopo, in
strange, grotesque and lovely forms.

Here may be seen the graceful pallah, shy and capricious,
with knotted and excentrically:inflected horns of extraordi-
nary proportions; the rare and majestic water-buck, which
is never found at a distance from rivers, in which he delights
to plunge; the sluggish roan antelope of the elevated downs
and ridges, charging viciously, when unable to continue its
flight, with its heavy build and size equaling that of a large
horse. Here too, is found the majestic koo-doo, with its
brilliant colors of lively French gray, approaching to blue;
with transverse white bands over the back and loins;

The grotesque and awkward gnoo wheels and prances in
every direction, his shaggy and bearded head arched between
slender and muscular legs; his long, white tail streaming to
the wind; his wild, sinister eyes flashing fire, and his frequent
snort, like the roar of a lion. The sassayby, with his crescent
horns, drooping hind quarters and brilliant colors, purple
and violet, and the hartebeest of bright orange, and legs
excentrically marked; the splendid oryx, with its sweeping
tail, reversed mane, shaggy breast-and straight, slender
horns; the beautiful zebra, with the more faintly banded
quagga, and the riet-buck of the sedge-grown rivulets; the
prodigious eland, fat always like a prize ox, and nearly as
large; and most glorious of all, the swift and rare sable
autelope, with its scimetar-shaped horns and snowy breast,
flying along the mountain ridges.

These are but a few of the twenty different varieties of the
antelope, in which this veritable Paradise of the Ferse Naturze
abounds, and most of those here enumerated are frequently
in view in one landscape, which will yet be diversified by the
presence of the larger beasts we have spoken of before. :
Verily is the life of the Hunter-Naturalist filled with “ Wild
Scenes!”

CPN tt, Raley dealt iy Tall bem Soe pe let _ hae
SERSES = te

ba, a
rh bal), Pett
Store deals at 5
REE “a : i
esate } as

aye ey 8) re
seeders

2

POL
203)

ODO
Zia

tote
TA Ea,

ey

be
Re
na
NO
yay

“3

Us

coh

at
i)
~
a)

os
oh

iy
0)

eres

aoe ae
gz geeie mtn
= oe :

(ex