Wild Sports In The Far West
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It was all in vain that I attempted to give him an idea of the almost impenetrable swamps, of the difficulty of finding the few buffaloes which were there, and of the almost impossibility when found of bringing their skins or any other part away; his countenance bore the same joyous, amicable expression as before. When I had finished my remarks, he handed me the bottle, which I put to my lips without drinking. In a voice trembling with emotion, he assured me that he was prepared to venture every thing, even life itself, for the sake of killing a buffalo, and when life was at stake, who could take into consideration a few insignificant swamp-holes or thorns! And then, as it struck him that he was a father of a family, his voice became weaker and more tremulous, his emotion increased, a flood of tears gushed from his eyes, and before I was aware, the little round figure was hanging to my neck. The heavy weight forced from me a sigh, which he took for sympathy, and he began to squeeze so hard that I was afraid I should be suffocated, when his two friends, who had been more moderate with the bottle, sprang to my rescue. But this was no easy matter, and as he clung to me he cried out, “Let me alone! he’s my friend – he, he will save me!” I escaped from him by a sudden wrench, and his companions carried him off to bed, he all the while throwing about his little fat arms and legs, and calling them good-for-nothing buffalo dogs. Then he again began to whine and cry, the sounds changing gradually, first into a groan and then into a snore.
We arrived at the new farm about noon next day, and found the former proprietors loading their wagon. They took their leave in the afternoon, and left as a memorial an incredible quantity of dirt. As soon as our wagon was cleared, and the things under cover, S. returned with the two drivers for another load, leaving me in the house alone. It was in the midst of a thick forest, with a field of about seven acres, surrounded by the largest trees. But I had not much time to contemplate the beauties of Nature, for in unloading and stowing away, the hours had flown on the wings of the wind. The sun had set before I had collected wood from the forest to keep up a fire for the night, or had had time to prepare my supper; the latter duty did not take long, for my whole store of provisions consisted of maize flour, dried venison, and wild honey.
Darkness, thick darkness, lay upon the slumbering earth: yielding up my imagination to memorials of old times, I drew the solitary chair to the blazing fire, took out my zither, and with soft mournful tones, soothed the home-sickness, which in loneliness forces itself on the heart. After a time, overcome by fatigue, I extended myself on my buffalo skin before the fire, and soon a succession of fantastic dreams flitted across my brain. The little fat distiller sat with me and mine in a garden at Leipzig, relating all the hardships and dangers which he had undergone at the buffalo hunt, while my dear mother listened to him with astonishment: many other loved forms were sitting round a large table, each with their coffee before them, when we were all disturbed by a loud knocking at the gate, and started up to see what was the matter, except the little distiller, who laughingly told us it was only a tame buffalo that he had tied up at the gate. The knocking growing louder and louder, I jumped up in alarm: the fire was burnt out, thick darkness surrounded me, but the repeated loud knocking shook off the remains of sleep, and I hastened to the door.
One of the drivers who had left the day before, stepped into the room, his teeth chattering with ague. I made haste to light the fire, which soon burnt up brightly, and then looked to my patient, who had sunk down on a chair, telling me with a weak voice that his last hour was come. Luckily, I had some coffee at hand, and made him drink a couple of cups as hot as possible, sweetened with honey. He then threw himself on the skin and was soon asleep. Next day he was somewhat better, and we passed the time as well as we could, till S. should come with his second load. I employed myself in collecting wood for the fire, and in shooting turkeys, to make our provisions last. After a week, during the last days of which we had lived on turkeys and pumpkins, taking the latter, which were very sweet and delicate, from the field of a neighbor at no great distance, S. arrived with the rest of his property, cows, horses, pigs, geese, cats, chickens, and dogs. Then there was all the bustle of arranging and settling, and then another attack of ague, which seemed regularly to have fixed itself on me in this unhealthy country. I bore up against it, but was not well enough to mount a horse till the 20th November, when I took a ride of four or five miles with my rifle, for a breath of fresh air.
These swamps and morasses partly realize the idea which Europeans entertain of the primitive forest, but in which they are frequently deceived, for the simple reason, that on the higher dry grounds which are covered with dry leaves and wood, fires are often made, not only by shooting parties, but by the settlers, for the sake of the grass, which comes up all the sooner when all these enormous quantities of leaves, &c., have been burnt; and the fire does not consume the young plants only, but considerably checks the growth of the older trees, excepting in the marshes, where the ground even in summer is moist; and there the trees grow to a colossal grandeur – I have seen some measuring seven, eight, and even nine feet in diameter.
Towards evening I saw a young buck, walking quietly and circumspectly through the wood; I dismounted, and left the horse to graze at leisure, while I crept nearer. He stopped when he saw the horse pawing the ground, raised his handsome head, and snuffed the air; my ball whistled through his ribs, and he fell lifeless to the ground. Weak as I was, it was some time before I could lift the not very large animal on to the horse, when I rode slowly homewards. Just before dark, I shot a turkey with the other barrel, and did not load again, not expecting to get another shot so late in the evening. The full moon set its soft silvery light among the dark shadows of the trees, to point out my path. I might have ridden for about an hour and a half through the thick forest on my heavily laden horse, and had gained a cattle track, which led to the house; the stillness of the night was broken by the cow-bells, the baying of the dogs and the neigh of my horse, in expectation of a good supper, when there was a sudden rustling among the bushes on my right. I pulled up, and a herd of swine rushed in wild haste across the path, just in front of me. I was about to ride on, when I heard further rustling amongst the dry leaves, and then one of the largest bears of the swamps stood in the path, not above six paces from my horse’s nose. He did not seem to know what to make of the figure looming through the glade of the forest by the light of the moon, and began to snuff the air. My rifle was not loaded, and the thought flashed upon me, that I should have to fight it out with the knife; but I resolved first to try and send him a bit of lead. I placed the butt of my gun on my left toe, and succeeded in loading; but, as I was about to place the copper cap, the horse, who had hitherto stood quite still, seemed inclined to examine the object before him a little closer, and giving a snort he made a step forward. Master Bruin, however, did not seem to like this, and with one bound he was in the jungle. Having finished my loading, I slipped off my horse, and crept into the bushes to get a shot, if possible. I may have gone about twenty paces over the dry leaves, when I stood still to listen. Not the slightest sound was to be heard; though I was firmly convinced that the bear could not be above ten paces off, for the leaves were so dry that if he had gone further I must have heard it. I raised my foot gently to make another step forward, when the bear, who had been standing so motionless before me that I took him for the root of a fallen tree, almost brushed my face, and took himself off with a growl; before I could recover from my surprise he had disappeared.
I returned, quite disappointed, to my horse, who remained quietly grazing, and rode away with two good resolutions in my head, – first, never to go a step with my gun unloaded; secondly, to seek a nearer acquaintance with Bruin on the morrow, if possible.
On the 22nd November, I was early afoot, and although the weather was cold and disagreeable, I set off with a neighbor and eleven dogs, full of joyous hopes.
Bear-shooting in America differs according to the time of the year, and the habits of the animal. It was now late in the autumn, almost winter, so that they could be hunted with dogs. Well mounted, with not less than from four to about eight or ten dogs, the hunters seek in the thickest and most unfrequented parts of the forest the favorite haunts of the bear. The men ride slowly through the thorns and creepers, the dogs seeking in all directions till they find a fresh trail, or a bear breaks cover, when they follow up in full cry. If the bear is fat he seldom runs far, but takes to a tree, or shows fight; if there are not dogs enough to master him, he knocks them over and continues his flight. If he takes to a tree, his fate is soon sealed by the rifle.
We had ridden along quietly for about an hour, when the dogs gave tongue, and started off, we after them as well as we could. My horse was an old hand at it, and I had nothing to do but to sit fast as he leaped the fallen trees, and try to avoid the creepers, which however often checked, and sometimes threw us.
Keeping up with the dogs was out of the question. I had long lost sight of my companion; I listened, and it appeared that the bear had turned to the left, towards the river; could he reach it he was safe, – it was too cold for the dogs – besides, they would hardly venture to swim, and we also must have remained on the bank.
I changed my course to cut him off, and luckily hit upon one of the cattle tracks that cross the wood in all directions. Once clear of the thorns, we went at a good pace, and soon heard the pack approaching. Suddenly the horse swerved to one side with a snort, and the bear burst out of the thicket. The moment he saw the horse, he stopped short and gave a deep growl. I had sprung off, and the bear had hardly stopped, when my ball was in his shoulder. The pack was close upon him, and he summoned all his strength to escape from the dogs; but the wounded shoulder checked his pace, the dogs attacked him, and he rose on his hind legs to oppose them. I could not venture a second shot for fear of injuring some of them, so charged him with my knife, and plunged it from behind the shoulder into his heart; this, with the furious bites of the dogs, soon ended his life.
My companion arrived at this moment, tired to death, all torn with the thorns, and his horse covered with foam. He was not a little vexed at coming too late; however, he helped to break up the bear, and strip off his skin, – and as each of us had a bag under the saddle, we divided the prize, and rode slowly home. The carcase is always equally divided amongst the hunters; the skin belongs to the first shot.
CHAPTER VII
WOODLAND SPORTS – CANE-BRAKES – MY EXAMINATION BY THE SCHOOL COMMISSION
Turkey hunting with dogs – American aptitude for barter – Hard life in the woods – Ague – Wolves – Unhousing a bear – Number of widows in the swamps – Postal system in the back states – Comfortable quarters – My musical propensities – The Mississippi at Memphis – Cincinnati and its German inhabitants – Our pill-box manufactory – My speculations in reeds – Democrats in America – The candidates for schoolmastership – My examination – Another cane trip – Buffalo shooting.
The weather became worse every day. The cold north wind blew furiously through the leafless boughs of the gigantic trees. All crowded together round the warm hearth, and the European began to long for the solid walls and warm rooms of his native land; for the wind blows, on all sides, through the crevices of the American block-houses; and as they are without windows, the door must be left open the livelong day to admit the necessary light. Thus it may be imagined, that in spite of the enormous fire, the temperature is not even moderate. In addition, we had nothing to eat but bear’s flesh, three times a day; so I put on my thick flannel hunting-shirt, took my rifle, and made up my mind to shoot a turkey, whereat the dogs began bounding and barking for joy.
Turkey hunting with dogs is one of the most amusing and convenient sports in the world. As soon as the dogs find a gang, as they are called, they run amongst them, barking furiously; although a turkey can run fast, he cannot outrun a dog; – so by way of escape, he flies heavily to the nearest tree, generally seeking the highest branches, and looks inquisitively from his exalted station, on the dogs jumping and yelping round the trunk. It now requires some good management on the part of the sportsman, for should the turkey catch sight of him, he will fly away again. The best plan is to make as much noise as possible, and, if the party is large enough to surround the tree, or the gang, breaking through the bushes with loud shouts; and while the bird is confused by the strange noises, the sportsman, having got near enough, must slip behind a tree. Then it requires a steady hand and correct eye to hit, with a single ball, a turkey at the top of a tree, from 130 to 140 feet high; it is not absolutely necessary that he be killed outright, for if a wing is wounded, his heavy weight will infallibly kill him in his fall. A hen turkey weighs from nine to fourteen pounds; the cock from sixteen to twenty, and even twenty-four. I killed three, and returned heavily laden home.
On the 21st December came the last load from l’Anguille, and another attack of ague for me. This was altogether too much, – I decided on bidding adieu to the unhealthy swamps, and trying the hills, and on the 4th January put my plan in execution. Saint had taken a strong liking to my double-barrelled rifle, and repeatedly wished to exchange something for it. This system of exchange is quite a passion with the Americans; they will barter any thing – lands, houses, horses, cattle, guns, clothes, even to the shirt and boots they have on – or, if you prefer it, they are just as willing to sell. Saint had a very good long rifle, and we soon settled the matter, by my taking it, and a good sum into the bargain.
I soon found that I was no longer master of my former powers, as when I knew the word “tired” only by name. Frequent attacks of ague had robbed my muscles of their elasticity: with all my exertions, I could hardly accomplish more than twenty miles the first day, and had enough to do to make thirteen the next; in the evening, tired to death, I arrived at Von G.’s, on the Little Red river. Next day it came on to rain heavily, and I considered myself fortunate in having a good roof over my head. I remained with Von G. till the 9th, when I went to my old friend Hilger. I passed a few very pleasant weeks with him, helped the old fellow at his work now and then, but generally went out turkey shooting. I was treated as one of the family. But my restless spirit and desire for change, which drove me away from every place where I had made friends, would not allow me to remain here; I must away, for the peaceful life of the happy family caused me mournful thoughts: to escape them, I determined to return to the swamps, as in winter the danger was less imminent.
The Hilgers begged me to remain, but the spirit which possessed me was too strong for them, and I took a warm leave of them all; the children, however, would not hear of my departure, and the little three-year-old girl was only to be pacified by a promise that she should go with me. The dear little thing actually put on her bonnet, accompanied me for a quarter of a mile, and then her brother had to carry her home by force; my eyes moistened as she held forth her little hand, and called out my name.
On, on, without delay, till the evening of the 25th January saw me at Bay de View, a little river running between, and parallel to, the Cash and l’Anguille. I pitched my camp on one of the many old Indian sepulchral mounds there. Deer and turkeys were plentiful, but, like the little distiller, the idea of a buffalo hunt had got fixed in my head. So on the 27th I followed the course of the stream, through the wild forest, and at night, beside the crackling fire, gave myself up to troubled thoughts. I had become so used to forest life, that I seldom required the compass; in the level marshy land, with its straight gigantic trees, the traveller can easily find his way by paying attention to the moss, which grows much longer and fuller on the north side than on the south.
In a day or two it began to freeze; as the ground was covered with water, in many places knee deep, the noise I made in breaking the ice drove away all the game within hearing. On the 28th and 29th January, I could not get a shot, and lived on the remains of a turkey, and some maize I had in my pockets. On the 30th I had nothing but the maize, which I roasted and devoured with the greatest appetite; but instead of appeasing my hunger, it only served to excite it the more, and I began seriously to chew tender stems of sassafras, in order to have something in my stomach.
My baggage was no great burden to me. At White river I had exchanged my buffalo skin for a blanket – I had one spare shirt in my game-bag, with a pair of rather woful looking socks, a small cord, a bullet mould, and a few bits of lead; but my greatest incumbrance was the zither, which hung over my shoulder. Yet it fully repaid me for all my trouble, when I reposed by the fire after the day’s toil, and I never could have prevailed on myself to leave it in the lurch.
Towards evening, as, still suffering from raging hunger, I was looking out for a dry spot to sleep on, I felt it growing colder every moment; I made haste to light a good fire, and threw myself before it completely exhausted. A hard frost came on, and a little later I was delighted to see it begin to snow. I coiled myself up as well as I could and was soon asleep. I was awakened in the night by the frightful howling of the wolves, which probably had no better sport than myself, and I consoled myself with the idea that perhaps they were only half as hungry. I got up several times during the night to shake off the snow, and feed the fire with the large logs I had collected the evening before; so that, notwithstanding the severity of the cold, I enjoyed a comfortable warmth.
A bough breaking with the weight of snow, roused me out of my sleep, and when I pulled the blanket from my eyes they were nearly blinded by the bright reflection of the sun’s rays from the white surface. The snow suited my purposes very well; I rubbed my hands and face with it, till they were quite in a glow, and having no breakfast to cook, I was soon on the march. Though weakened by my long fast, my good night’s rest and reawakend hope inspired me with new force, and I lost no time in seeking something to appease my ravenous appetite, as I roamed at random under the heavily laden trees. The evening before, I had discovered, near my sleeping place, an overcup oak, bearing sweet acorns, some of which I gathered and devoured, so as not to leave my stomach entirely unemployed. This tree grows to a great size, but only in the marshes; – the leaves are small, and the acorn is covered by the cup, with the exception of a small opening at the top, whence the name. It is nearly round, and serves for food in case of need, being less bitter than the common sort. Bears are particularly fond of it.
I had not gone far from my bivouac when I came on the fresh trail of an old buck, which I followed up swiftly and silently through snow half a foot deep, passing several places where he had lain down. After following the track for about three hours, it became confused, but as I was forcing my way through a thickly tangled thorn-bush, the buck stood before me, looking at me with inquiring eyes. Ere I could clear myself of the good-for-nothing creepers, he was off again, leaving me to admire the immense leaps he had made in the commencement of his flight; his third leap had been over a bush from eight to nine feet high, and from the spot where he took off to that where he lighted was about twenty feet. I found that he had soon slackened his pace to a walk, so quickening my steps, I followed him cautiously. I saw him a second time standing in a thicket about a hundred paces off, and evidently on the look-out; I had no hopes of getting nearer, so took steady aim and fired: he gave a start on one side, then fled in wild haste through the thick jungle. I was now certain of him, so loaded quietly and walked to the spot where he had been standing. The snow was discolored with blood, and a broad stripe of large dark red spots pointed out the path he had taken.
Being somewhat exhausted by the sharp pace, and wishing to allow the poor beast to lie down in peace, I seated myself on a fallen tree. After half an hour’s rest, I followed him again; unfortunately he had made for the river, to lave his burning wound in its cool waves, and, having swum across, he was lying dead on the snow, on the other side, in a pool of blood.
Had I not been half starved, I should not have thought of venturing into the cold water; but necessity would admit of no hesitation. I bound together some logs of decayed wood, as floating lightest, laid on the raft my rifle, zither, blanket, hunting-shirt, powder-horn, gamebag, and shirt, and stepped into the icy-cold water. I kept on my lower garments, as they were already wet through from the small streams I had waded in the course of the chase. I dipped my head as soon as I could, and then swam across, pushing my raft before me.
Shivering with cold, I had some difficulty in making a fire, on account of the deep snow which covered every thing; – but I managed it at last with the help of my tomahawk; dried myself, and having laid some steaks on the fire, I devoured them ere they were well warmed through.
The exertion of the chase and the cold bath was too much for my weakened frame. I threw myself down by the fire, and soon felt another attack of ague. The shivering fit lasted full two hours, and seemed the worst I had ever experienced: it was succeeded by a hot fit, which made me forget ice and snow. Towards evening I was somewhat better, but not in condition to continue my journey; so I cleared away the snow, piled it up like a wall to keep off the wind, collected a good store of wood and slept calmly and sweetly through the night. Next day the ague had left me, but I felt very weak, and remained all day extended before my warm fire, enjoying my venison. Towards evening I took a little turn for the sake of exercise, and to see if I could get a shot, returning to my old quarters to sleep, and setting out next day for the long desired buffalo.
I struck off in a southerly direction, and had lounged along for about a couple of hours, when I came to a place where at least twenty of these creatures must have passed the previous night. I lost no time in following the broad trail of the herd down the bank of the river. After a time, the trail turned suddenly to the northward. As it grew dark, I lighted a good fire and laid down, having cleared away the snow. It was dreadfully cold. The wolves howled fearfully, but did not come near me.
After a good breakfast, I again followed up the trail, which ran zigzag and in all directions, and when I laid down again for the night I knew that I could not be very far from my prey. I slept under the shelter of a fallen tree, which kept off the wind, and the fire burnt brightly. About midnight, the wind changed from north-west to south-west, of which I did not much approve, for the sky foreboded a change. Dark masses of cloud assembled in the south, and the air became perceptibly warmer. I dreaded the consequences.
On the 5th of February it began to thaw, yet I would not all at once give up my hopes of the buffaloes, till several abortive attempts to find the trail convinced me of the fruitlessness of further pursuit. Shower followed shower. In a few hours all the beautiful snow had disappeared, leaving a waste of waters, in which no trail was visible.
I had now to ponder within myself what was best to be done, but the approaching night soon settled that matter. The darkness and pouring rain informed me that there was nothing to be attempted at present. A fire was out of the question, and I cowered under a half-fallen tree, to be sheltered as much as possible from the rain. I had some broiled venison in my bag, but felt no appetite, and passed a miserable night, shivering with cold. The wolves seemed almost tame, for some came within a few paces of me, and howled awfully. I was in such a state of despondency that I would not take the trouble to draw my knife, because I should have had to move; besides, in the humor I was in, it almost seemed that to be shaken by wolves till I was warm would have been rather pleasant than otherwise.