A FATAL BRAWL--RETURN TO LITTLE ROCK--SUMMARY JUSTICE--DOWN SOUTH.
Drunken brawl at a whiskey-shop, and its lamentable
consequences--Little Rock and its vicinity--Shooting at the “salt
licks”--Justice in the backwoods--Summary proceedings against
horse-stealers--Curing skins--The dreams of dogs--Departure for New
Orleans--The 4th of July.
The two hunters had finished their game, and were sitting with me over
the whiskey, conversing about old times, when six more arrived, dressed
like ourselves with leggings and moccasins, armed with rifles and
knives; they brought several empty bottles, which they caused to be
replenished, and they all seemed to be in a fair way of getting drunk.
As they were rolling about, one of them tumbled over the feet of the
sleeper, who just mumbled some indistinct words, and fell off again.
This seemed to afford them much amusement, and they began to tickle him
under the nose with blades of grass, laughing immoderately at the faces
he made. The two other young Americans told them very civilly to leave
off, alleging that the sleeper was their friend, that his sleepiness was
a disease which he could not help, and begging them to leave him in
peace. A scornful burst of loud laughter was the answer. They said they
could and would do as they chose, and one of them had the goodness to
say, that he could eat us up altogether. My blood was already on the
boil. Still it was clearly no business of mine; a somewhat ruder
practical joke at length awoke the sleeper, who was a strong-built man.
He was still the butt of their wit, while yawning and stretching his
limbs, till suddenly on looking round on the circle, he seemed to catch
a glimmering of what had taken place. His yawning was checked, and
looking round attentively, he listened to their remarks, when the
greatest braggart amongst them stepped up to him, and laughing in his
face, wished him a good morning; in another instant, he lay bleeding on
the ground from a blow of the sleeper’s fist. This was the signal for a
general row, and nine blades glittered in the rays of the setting sun.
My knife was out as quickly as any of the others, and we had a regular
hand-to-hand combat; as long as I live I hope never to see such another.
It all passed so quickly, that I can only recollect that I defended
myself against two tall fellows, that my left hand pained me much, and
that one of my opponents uttered a loud cry. At this instant a shot was
heard, and one of the strangers reeled and fell; it acted like an
electric stroke on both parties; all the knives were lowered, and every
one appeared to be interested about the wounded man. The sleeper lost no
time in throwing himself on his horse, which was tied up at the gate,
and soon vanished in the forest. All were sobered in an instant, yet no
one thought of giving chase; all were intent on endeavoring to save the
wounded man. But in vain; as the sun sank behind a range of red clouds
he breathed his last.
The two other Americans now beckoned to me to follow them; and not
knowing whether the friends of the fallen man might not avenge
themselves in secret, they mounted, and one of them taking me up behind
him, we started at a gallop along a narrow path leading into the
interior, following the distinct hoof-marks of the fugitive’s horse. We
halted at dark and made a fire; setting off again at daybreak, we soon
arrived at the burnt-out fire of our comrade, who was again peaceably
sleeping unconcerned about any pursuit. Yet he must have thought one
probable; for a cocked pistol lay by his side, although his morbid
drowsiness had got the better of his fears.
I gently removed the pistol for fear of accident, and awoke him. I had
hardly touched his shoulder when he made a grasp at the vacant place;
but he soon recognized us, and we made him understand that this was not
the best place to sleep in undisturbed. He admitted that himself; a
hasty breakfast was devoured, and we took time to wash our hands from
human blood, partly our own, partly that of others. My left hand, which
I had hastily bound up the night before, began to be very painful; I had
received a thrust through the palm, and the sinews were exposed. Laying
wood-ashes on the wound I bandaged it again. I had also received a
slight cut on the left side. All the others were more or less hurt;
indeed, I seemed to have come off the best.
After breakfast, we left the path and struck into the forest, by no
means following my intended direction to the south-west; so I took a
friendly leave of the three men, turned to the right, and soon lost
sight of them. I have never seen them since, and do not even know their
names, nor they mine, though we fought side by side, and fled together.
Chance had thrown us into each other’s society, common interest had
united us for a moment, and now each went his way, caring neither who
the other might be, nor what his occupation; a true picture of American
life.
I was again alone, and on foot, and could only make short journeys, as
my hand was very painful, and the wound in my side, though not deep,
began to suppurate. Lounging slowly on, and keeping my direction as well
as I could, I followed the course of a small stream, and was looking out
for a convenient place to camp for the night, when I observed a young
buck feeding, without the slightest suspicion of the approach of any
being likely to disturb his peace. He passed away in the same happy
thought, for my ball pierced his brain. On pulling out my knife to break
him up, I could not avoid a shudder on observing the dark stains of
blood--of human blood. I washed it carefully, for I could not bear the
sight.
I did not take the trouble to skin the deer; in fact, I could not with
my wounded hand. So, taking the liver and kidneys, with part of the
back, I made a good fire, and soon lay stretched before it enveloped in
my blanket, with my body, but not my mind in repose.
I lay for a long time staring at the burning embers, recalling my former
life, and forming gloomy pictures of the future; at last I fell asleep
from fatigue. A penetrating icy feeling awoke me; it was raining hard;
the fire was out; all was dark, and the present was not calculated to
sweeten the past. I pulled my wet blanket closer around me, and in the
depths of my wretchedness, abused all the four elements, with the wind
and rain into the bargain. Day came at last. Your dweller in towns, when
he rises out of his warm bed, and hears the rain beat against the
window, looks down for a minute or two on the people hurrying along in
the street, pitying those who are driven out in such unpleasant weather
by business or necessity; then turns carelessly to his breakfast,
growling perhaps because he has let his tea or coffee get cold, and at
last throws himself on a sofa. How different the case with the
backwoodsman! Unrolling himself from his wet blanket, shaking his wet
hair, shivering with cold, devouring a morsel of cold, wet venison, not
as a dainty, but to satisfy hunger; then wringing his blanket, and
laying another piece of venison in its folds, he hangs it on his back,
and continues his journey through the cold, wet forest; the lock of his
rifle, and the inside of the powder-horn, being the only dry things
about the whole man. How various the course of things in this world. The
cold and wet had inflamed and swelled my hand, which pained me much; I
cut a long strip from the skin of the deer’s back, and made a sling of
it for my arm, packed my other things over my shoulder, grasped my
rifle, and wandered along under the dripping trees, turning my back on
the cold wind and rain.
As the day advanced, I became less dissatisfied with my fate and with
the weather. I was indifferent to both, and could even laugh when a
bush knocked my cap off, and cast it into a pool, while the wet branches
slapped my face. At length the rain ceased; a cold wind arose and dried
my upper garments, though my leggings still flapped disagreeably about
my feet. My course was directed towards Little Rock, without knowing
exactly what I was to do there. I was desirous of revisiting New
Orleans, yet did not like leaving the woods; so I walked on, trusting to
my good luck, and leaving the rest to chance. Fortunately, I reached a
house this evening, and obtained a good bandage for my wound and a dry
couch.
On the 27th February I arrived at Slowtrap’s, who gave me a hearty
welcome; but I only stopped one night, and crossed the river to
Kelfer’s, who also received me kindly. Still I could not remain quiet,
and in a few days I continued my journey to Little Rock.
Little Rock is, without any flattery, one of the dullest towns in the
United States; and I would not have remained two hours in the place, if
I had not met with some good friends, who made me forget its dreariness.
Several Germans have settled here, some of whom are doing very well;
many of them have good and prosperous farms in the neighborhood. The
land above the town is as dry and barren as it can well be; but on the
other side of the Arkansas, and at a short distance from the town, it is
of the finest quality. On the north of the town, with the exception of
the valley of the Arkansas, there is little except pine woods growing in
a stony soil.
I made some excursions in the neighborhood, formed an acquaintance with
a young American with a German wife, and was their guest for some time,
employing myself in looking out for turkeys, but with little success;
the mosquitoes in the various bayous or lagoons were so numerous as
almost to drive any man mad, who camped out in the open air. I remained
for some weeks, in spite of them, but if I had stayed any longer, I fear
I should have given up shooting for ever.
My hunting shirt was in rags, and only held together by my belt; and as
deer skins were now in a good state for dressing, I made up my mind to
return to the Fourche le Fave, and shoot at the salt licks, till I had
skins enough to make a good hunting shirt; intending to dress the skins
myself for the purpose.
Not finding any letters, I gave up the idea of going to New Orleans, and
started for the Fourche le Fave towards the end of April. I gained my
old shooting ground on the second day, and leaving the frequented paths,
struck through the forest to a lick, where I had killed several deer the
year before, and where I hoped to find the platform I had erected, still
in its place. I reached the spot just before sunset, and hastened to
collect and split wood, and by working hard I managed to get enough
before dark;--for the twilight is very short in this latitude. I then
set to work on the stand, to raise one side which had given way: most of
the earth remained on the platform, but on putting my shoulder to it,
and exerting all my force, I succeeded in raising it to its old
position. The effort, however, had been too much for my strength; I had
tasted nothing since the previous evening, having taken no food with me;
nor had I seen any game on the way; the long march, the hard work of
hauling and splitting wood, the fatigue and exhaustion overpowered me,
and I fell fainting or at least senseless to the ground. How long I may
have remained so, I cannot say. When I recovered my senses, it was quite
dark. I got up to collect myself and consider where I was, when I heard
a deer, which had got scent of me, spring, blowing and snorting, out of
the lick, and bound away over the dry leaves.
I went, in the first place, to a running stream, close by, and took a
long hearty draught. Feeling considerably refreshed, I made a fire on
the platform, and sat underneath, wrapped in my blanket, patiently
awaiting the approach of game. In less than an hour a young buck
advanced with light and cautious tread. I heard him for ten minutes on
the dry rustling leaves, before he came within sight. When he appeared,
he was about forty paces off, so that I could distinguish the outline of
his form, as he stood still staring at the fire, his eyes shining like
two stars out of the dark background. He cautiously advanced a few
steps, coming nearer the lick, and looking almost white in the light of
the fire. I whistled: he stopped and raised his head; my ball passed
through both shoulder blades, and he died without a cry.
Transgressing all the rules of the craft, I neither reloaded nor
remained quiet in my place to await a second; but rushed out, dragged
him to the fire, broke him up, and in a very few minutes, portions of
him were put down to roast. I then reloaded, and kept a sharp look-out.
Probably the smell of roasting meat kept others away; for though I heard
snorting and stamping, I saw no more for the present--but my stomach
could not hold out any longer.
Refreshed and strengthened by the food, I stirred the fire to a bright
glow, and, again on good terms with myself and the whole world, I sat
patient and watchful under the towering flames. Nothing stirred till
about one in the morning, when I again heard a light measured step, and
a doe appeared coming straight towards me. She had not the slightest
suspicion of danger, but stood staring at the fire with clear shining
eyes, hardly six paces from the stand. She was with young; still I must
have a hunting shirt, and I had raised the death-dealing tube, when
three more deer arrived on the scene, one of them a fine buck. They
passed round the lick, and then stopped about ten or eleven paces behind
the doe, who never once moved from her place. Turning the rifle a little
aside, I fired at the buck, who bounded high in the air and fell dead,
the doe flying off like the wind. She was so close that she must have
been singed by the powder.
Deathlike stillness again prevailed. I was nodding a little, but waking
up suddenly and looking before me, I saw two glowing eyes shining
through the darkness, and soon afterwards descried the whole form of a
deer. He came straight towards me, stood for a moment, turned a little
aside, and disappeared after the crack of the rifle. I gave myself no
concern about him, but reloaded and watched for more. Whip-poor-will had
already begun his monotonous song, which regularly resounds through the
woods shortly before the first gleam of day, when I again heard the
measured tread of a deer on the dry leaves, and he received my ball just
as the gray dawn was appearing. As it grew lighter I found him lying
dead on his tracks. The third, which I had fired at, had left no signs;
so assuming that I had missed him, I made no attempt to seek him, but
set to work to skin the others. When this was done, I hung them up, and
proceeded to a farmer’s about two miles off, with whom I was well
acquainted, to tell him to take the meat; and then went on some miles
further to Kelfer’s, who received me hospitably, and in whose house I
rested for a few days.
Hearing of another lick which was said to be very good, I resorted
thither the same evening, and was soon ensconced under a hastily
prepared platform.
The woods in Arkansas present a beautiful aspect at this season of the
year, when the logwood trees are in bloom. They are small bush-like
trees, seldom more than seven inches in diameter, with a white blossom
of the size of a rose; but the whole tree is covered with them. They
grow in immense numbers, and give the forest the appearance of a garden.
Then the mild spring nights, the wailing note of the whip-poor-will, the
monotonous hooting of the owls, would make it altogether romantic, were
the infernal mosquitoes only away.
I shot two deer during the night, took out their brains, and laid them
about half an inch thick on a flat stone, placed it near the fire, and
kept stirring them, to preserve them for dressing the skins.
Imagining that I had skins enough, I took them, as soon as they were
dry, to old Slowtrap’s, as he was celebrated for understanding the
curing business thoroughly. In a few days I was seated in the well-known
chimney corner opposite my old friend, who was the same as usual, had
on the same shabby old black coat with the same eventful buttons behind,
and as usual he was roasting potatoes in the hot ashes. I made no long
preface, and next morning found me hard at work, scraping off the hair
with a knife which I had prepared for the purpose. Finding that I had
not preserved a sufficiency of brains, I was obliged to go out shooting
again, and Hogarth, who lived near, was willing to accompany me for a
few days.
Just as we were about to start on the following morning, five horsemen
drew up before the door. They dismounted, and Hogarth asked them to
breakfast, though we had just finished. After breakfast, as they saw
that we were ready to start, one of them asked us not to go shooting
to-day, but to go with them, as they were on their way to execute an act
of justice. The case was this: Some time since had settled on the banks
of the little river, a set of men who were found to be rather too fond
of horseflesh, without inquiring particularly to whom the horses
belonged. They lived scattered over a district of about twenty miles in
circumference, and almost conclusive proofs of horse-stealing were
brought against two of these people, though the evidence was not strong
enough for proceedings against them in a court of justice, where they
could have an advocate, a being for whom all backwoodsmen entertain a
profound respect. Therefore to make short work of the matter, they had
decided on taking the law into their own hands. A man of the name of
Brogan and my poor Curly were the two victims.
Hogarth was ready at once. I resolved to go as a spectator, fully
resolved to take no part in the proceedings. We were soon off, and
overtook the poor fellows, bound, and led between two horses. Curly was
very dejected; Brogan looked savage and desperate. When we arrived at
the rendezvous, we found a much more numerous assembly than we had
expected, there being about sixty persons present. The jury was chosen,
witnesses were brought forward, sworn, and questioned, and all the
proceedings were carried on according to the regular forms of a court of
justice. It came out that Brogan had been absent for some time during
the preceding year--that the two horses in question had been seen in the
neighborhood of these two men, in a certain place where the forest was
very thick--and that Brogan was always hanging about there. Later, Curly
had made use of one of these horses, and then sold him; the proofs were
convincing enough, yet they both steadfastly denied all the facts.
Two men now stripped Curly of his upper garments, tied him up to a tree,
and began to belabor his back with hickory sticks. Curly had sense
enough to see that if his head remained obstinate, his back would have
to pay the score; so he offered to confess. He was instantly cast loose,
and the register of his sins was soon unfolded. He stated that he
himself had never stolen any horse, but had acted as receiver, or as he
said, had been good-natured towards the thieves. When the last horse was
to be stolen, four of them had been present, and it was agreed that he
was to be carried off and sold. But as one of them must first steal him,
it was left to sportsman’s luck to decide. He, who by a certain day, had
shot fewest deer, should undertake the risk of stealing the horse. Curly
had killed four, by the day named, the other two had shot two each,
Brogan only one. He concluded by giving the names of all the
horse-stealers, twenty-six in number, and well-known names, having the
modesty to leave out his own.
Brogan, who had listened to it all with a contemptuous smile, was now
questioned; all attempts to make him confess were in vain; he denied
having had any share in the crime, and was tied up to a tree and
dreadfully beaten. It was a horrible sight. At first he gave vent to
volleys of oaths and abuse; then he was silent for a long time, and bore
the severe blows with wonderful firmness; at length he gave a deep
groan, and called out, “Oh, my poor wife and children.”
Two negroes now made their appearance with spades and dug a grave; they
were followed by a white man with a cord in his left hand, and a piece
of tallow, with which he kept greasing the cord in his right, looking as
unconcerned as possible all the time, though he knew it was intended to
hang the poor wretch. This seemed rather too severe, and several of us
now stepped forward, and persuaded those who seemed most open to pity,
that if they had resolved to hang the man, they ought not first to have
lacerated him so dreadfully: this seemed evident to the others, so it
was put to the vote, and his life was spared on condition that he left
the country within four weeks, and never returned to it again. He made
no promise, and as he was cast off, he fell senseless on the grass.
I had seen quite enough. Hogarth and I trotted off to the mountains to
think seriously about our shooting; my comrade was very pensive; I
heard afterwards that there were good reasons for it, as no slight
suspicions rested on him.
As the weather was warm and pleasant, we resolved to look for bees as
well as deer; for we had each a great longing for honey. We placed the
bait in the empty shell of a tortoise, and separated in chase of deer.
Hogarth had a call with him and attempted to attract the does by
imitating the cry of their fawns; a most disgraceful practice, which is
too often indulged in. This practice is most abominable, on two
accounts: first, because it is base and cruel to lure the mother to her
destruction by imitating the cry of her young; secondly, because it so
rapidly exterminates all the game, by killing off the does, and leaving
the fawns to perish with hunger, when they are too young to find their
own nourishment. Although I scorned to adopt such a vile practice, I
shot a two-year-old buck, while Hogarth shot nothing.
At nightfall, the winds seemed to break loose from all the thirty-two
points of the compass at once, to blow down all the old fir-trees in the
forest; towards midnight the storm subsided, and changed into such heavy
rain that I was obliged to cut a channel with my knife round our blanket
tent to carry off the water.
On the next morning Slowtrap joined us with his own and Hogarth’s dogs,
as he wanted to find a bear which was paying rather too much attention
to his pigs. The dogs soon found the trail, and after a pretty fight,
Slowtrap knocked him over with his rifle ball, just as I was near
getting the worst of it by being too forward with my knife. We found
bees the same evening.
The sun had just set, when gaining the crest of a hill, I caught sight
of a young deer quietly feeding. I raised the rifle, and was in the act
of pressing the trigger, when I saw the antlers of a very large buck,
who was walking slowly past the other, unsuspicious of harm. I had often
heard old hunters talk of the buck fever, but could never form a just
idea of the meaning of it; at this moment, however, I felt its full
effects. My anxiety to shoot the buck was so great, that I trembled in
every limb, and could not steady the rifle. At length the deer
discovered me, and raised his noble head. I knew that the decisive
moment was come, and, although the sight of the rifle quivered over his
whole form, I pulled the trigger. He gave a bound and disappeared: I
found some blood where he had been standing, but the color was not very
satisfactory, and I followed the trail in vain; he had escaped with a
slight wound.
I returned to the camp out of humor;--and with reason,--I had lost three
pair of good moccasins by my bad shot, and was almost barefoot. Hogarth
and Slowtrap had killed a few deer, and saved the brains for me, and I
thought I had now enough for my skins. Next day we went after bees, and
found two trees, one of which we cut down--on which occasion I got
dreadfully stung.
I now thought it time to return to my work, and was tired of going about
in shirt sleeves. I took the brains which Hogarth and Slowtrap had
given me, with what I had myself collected, returned to Slowtrap’s, and
set to work in earnest with my skins. For the benefit of those who may
be interested in the subject, I will describe the Indian method of
dressing skins. They are laid in water to soak for a whole night; next
morning they are taken out, placed on a smooth board, and the hair
scraped off. This done, the brains are mixed with an equal quantity of
water in an iron pot, and rubbed well into the skins, one brain being
generally enough for one skin; the brains having previously been put in
a coarse linen bag, boiled for an hour, and then left to cool. As soon
as cool enough for the hand to bear it, they are rubbed through the bag,
giving the water a milky color, and leaving only the fibrous parts in
the bag. The skins are put into the pot, and well kneaded, so that they
may be thoroughly saturated with the mixture; then taken out, well
wrung, and hung up to dry. Before this, they must be well rubbed and
pulled across a sharp board till they are dry, as white as snow, and as
soft as velvet. Yet if they get wet they become as hard as a stone; to
prevent this, all the glutinous substance must be destroyed by smoke.
Therefore two of them are sown together in a bag, a hole is made in the
ground, about sixteen inches deep and about eight inches wide, in which
a fire is lighted. As soon as it is in a bright glow, rotten wood is
laid on to make a thick smoke, and the skins are placed over it, mouth
downwards, till they are so thoroughly penetrated by it, that they begin
to turn brown on the outside. They are then turned inside out, and the
process repeated; when finished, neither water nor sun will hurt them
more, and their color is a yellowish-brown.
As soon as my skins were all properly dressed, I went to an old
backwoodsman of the name of Wallis, whose wife cut out a hunting-shirt
for me, in which she used the best part of five skins, and showed me how
to sew them. After three days of industrious tailoring, I succeeded in
producing the perfection of a hunting-shirt. I now cut out a pair of new
moccasins from the skin of an old deer, that I had dressed with the
others; took some of the bark of the black walnut tree, with a little
green vitriol, and gave my new dress the proper forest tint,--and I was
once more fitted out in the regular garb of a backwoodsman.
Wallis had been a great deal amongst the Indians, and had adopted many
of their manners and customs. He was the best white hunter I ever met
with, and never failed in discovering bees, if once he came on their
traces. He had been for a long time in Texas, and extraordinary stories
were related of him during his absence; at last, news came that he was
dead. His wife, in course of time, became acquainted with another man,
who succeeded in gaining her good graces, and so she married him. One
evening, about a year after her second marriage, a horseman, dressed as
an Indian, stopped before the door, dismounted, and tied up his horse.
He entered the house, and the woman recognized, with delight and
astonishment, the husband she had mourned as dead. At the same moment,
the other returned from shooting, with the dogs, which joyfully bounded
about their old master, and he was not a little perplexed at meeting the
lawful owner of the property; but Wallis was a reasonable man, and told
his wife very gravely, that she was at liberty to take her choice
between the two, provided he might have the children, two fine boys, and
that he would give her till the morrow to decide: so saying, he
shouldered his rifle, mounted his horse, and trotted off to the forest,
where he made his fire, and camped for the night.
Next day, after finishing his breakfast, he saddled his horse, and rode
back to the house, to learn how his wife had decided; he found his
representative on the point of departure, who openly acknowledged that
Wallis had the prior rights, that he should be very sorry to be a cause
of discord, excused himself for the accident, begging him not to take it
amiss, and ended by offering his hand, which the other accepted. He then
rode off to the West, to seek another wife with better luck next time.
The long separated pair lived together afterwards as happily and
contentedly as if nothing had happened; it was not necessary for him to
excuse himself for not writing, as he had never learned the art, and,
even if he had sent her a letter, she would have been in the same
difficulty as to reading it.
I had long conversations with him about shooting, and he lamented very
much the decrease of game, which, as he said, had become very sensible
for some years at the Fourche le Fave, formerly the best hunting ground
in Arkansas. Among other things we talked of the dreams of dogs. When I
told him what I had heard, and what I had experienced myself, he
confirmed it, assuring me that he had tried it with the dog which was
then lying at his feet. He said: “I was stretched before the fire one
evening, and could not sleep. The dog was lying by me fatigued with his
day’s work, for we had been out the whole day; he had been for some time
snoring lightly, and now began to scramble with his feet, and to whine
and bark in a low tone; a sure sign that he was dreaming. I had heard
from my father, when I was a child, that any one might have the same
dream as a dog, if they can catch it in a handkerchief; so I spread my
neckcloth over the dog’s head, and waited in patience till he woke. At
length when he left off barking, and raised his head to shake off the
unaccustomed covering, I took the cloth, folded it up, and laying it
under my head, I was soon asleep; I dreamed that I was running after a
rabbit, with most inexplicable rage, following it through the thickest
thorn bushes, and as at last it escaped into a hole, I thrust my head
into it, and barked, and tried to scrape away the earth to get it out. I
have tried it several times since, and always with the same effect.”
Without being superstitious, I determined to take the next opportunity
of repeating the experiment.
My hunting-shirt being finished, I took a kind leave of the old hunter
and his family, and returned to Slowtrap’s, with whom I remained only a
few days, notwithstanding his pressing invitation to pass the summer
there, and then proceeded to Kelfer’s. From hence I revisited the salt
licks, repaired the scaffold, collected kindlers, and passed twelve
nights successively under the fire, until the mosquitoes, and other
insects almost carried me off piecemeal; yet without getting a single
shot. I never could imagine what had driven the game all away; perhaps
it was too late in the season; I only know that I lay on the look-out
many long, long nights, listening for the tread of a deer, watched the
moon rise, follow her appointed course, and set behind the trees;
hearkened patiently to the hootings of the owls, and the complaint of
whip-poor-will, and left the place each succeeding morning, without
seeing a single head of game, to seek some cool spot to sleep in, and
await the coming night. At last, my provisions being exhausted, I was
forced to return to Kelfer’s for a fresh supply. While there I decided
on giving up the fire, and trying daylight again, when I succeeded in
killing a few fine deer. One of them was the largest I ever shot. I was
going along a mountain-side, and had just fired at and missed a young
buck that was standing behind a fallen tree, with nothing but his head
visible, when, just as I had reloaded, this splendid fellow showed
himself above me, at about fifteen paces distance. My ball knocked him
over, and I never saw fatter venison.
After some time, news arrived from Little Rock, to say that letters were
awaiting me there. I was soon ready to start, intending if their
contents were favorable, to embark for the south. My few things were
easily packed up, and I now took a warm farewell of Kelfer and his
amiable family, from whom it grieved me to part. I had lived in his
house like one of his relations, and had never been treated as a
stranger; and if I ever had found a home in America, it would have been
with him; there was only one point on which we disagreed; I was
passionately fond of field sports, and he often severely blamed my
useless loitering about in the woods, seriously representing to me that
I could not go on so for ever, and that I should be forced, sooner or
later, to settle somewhere, and become a useful and reasonable member of
society. I saw clearly enough, on such occasions, that he was right, and
was often inclined to accept the brotherly offers which he made, and to
hang up the rifle, and take to the axe; but I had become too fond of the
wild unsteady life; besides, a burning desire to revisit my native land
prevented me, and my love of change was now stronger than any other
feeling; I took up my rifle, threw my luggage over my shoulder, shook
hands all round, and followed the course of the Fourche le Fave on my
way to Little Rock.
On arriving at the mouth of the river, I was undecided whether I should
continue my course by land or water. Unluckily, however, I found good
shooting-ground there; so, throwing my bundle under a tree, I formed a
hut of loose bark, and began shooting again to my heart’s content.
The end of June came. My provisions had latterly much diminished, as I
had shot nothing for several days, and as the meat was soon spoilt by
the heat unless it was well dried, I began to get tired of sport, and
resolved to shoot only one more deer for provision, then go to Little
Rock, take up my letters, and come to some decision as to my future
course.
The intention of shooting one more deer seemed this time to be easier
conceived than executed, and I lived for two days on whortleberries, a
fruit which by no means suited my stomach. It happened one morning when
I came again on the banks of the Fourche le Fave, I saw a canoe jammed
amongst some drift-wood, which had stuck fast in the river. This suited
my purpose exactly; so, without further consideration, I swam off and
secured it, took it up to my camp, threw in all my havings and
gatherings, and gained the river Arkansas the same afternoon.
Gliding smoothly along near the bank, I observed numerous signs of deer
in several places. I landed at one of them, where the ground was all
trodden down by their feet, and where there was only one narrow rocky
path, by which they could descend to drink the brackish water, that of
the Arkansas containing a considerable portion of salt. My plan was soon
formed. I was not only excessively hungry myself, but I had some friends
in Little Rock, to whom a nice piece of venison would be a treat; so,
taking my tomahawk, I soon erected a small scaffolding over the canoe,
which was all the more easily accomplished as it had been made to serve
this purpose before, holes having been bored below the gunwales to
receive the poles. Covering it with twigs and some inches of earth, I
collected kindlers from the neighboring hills, and patiently awaited the
approaching night. As soon as it was dark I lighted my fire, then leant
back, giving the reins to my fancy and gazing on the beautiful starry
sky. After a time, raising myself silently and looking towards the place
where I expected the deer, I saw a glowing eye just above the water, and
another reflected from its surface; it was a deer, which had descended
without the least noise, and was eagerly drinking the brackish water,
about twenty paces from the canoe. I raised the rifle slowly, took a
careful aim and fired; loud sounded the report over the water’s surface,
returning in repeated echoes from the hills, and then all was as quiet
and silent as the grave. Taking a brand from the fire, I found a
yearling buck lying dead at a short distance from the spot where he had
been drinking. After breaking him up, I cut off no small portion to
roast, my hunger being truly painful; when this was satisfied I threw
him into the canoe, cast off from the bank, rolled myself in my blanket,
and, floating softly down the stream in the stillness of night, I
arrived at Little Rock in good condition on the following morning.
I found a letter from Germany, and another from Kean in Louisiana, from
whom I had not heard for a long time; he requested me to come to him,
telling me I might easily find employment with a good salary. The
steamer “Arkansas” arrived the next day from Fort Smith, and notice was
given that on the morning of the 5th July she would start for New
Orleans. My arrangements were soon made, and not having much packing to
plague me, I passed the intervening days very happily in the society of
my friends.
The 4th of July was to be celebrated as usual in Little Rock by a grand
barbecue, or banquet, at the public expense. I went to the appointed
place out of curiosity, and found a dozen black cooks, busily preparing
for the grand affair. Two trenches, about two yards long and four wide,
were dug in a garden near the town, the bottom of each was filled with
red-hot charcoal, the supply being kept up from a large fire near at
hand. Pieces of wood were laid across the trenches, and on the wood
immense quantities of meat; two halves of an ox, a number of pigs,
calves, deer, bears, sheep, &c., were roasting and stewing, while people
with bottles or jugs full of whiskey went about offering it to all
present. The meat itself was not particularly inviting, everybody going
up and cutting off what he wanted, and holding it in his hand to eat,
some standing, some walking to and fro. At a camp-fire this is all very
well, but such a multitude with greasy hands and mouths is not
attractive.
I did not remain long, but returned to the town, sleeping at the house
of a German settler; and on the following morning proceeded on board the
boat, which contrary to the usual custom, was punctual to her time and
went off blustering down the river.
[Illustration]