THE BOBCAT.
Melville, La., Feb. 3, 1904.--Budd was watching some deer down the
river, when he saw a bobcat come out of the brush near by. He shot the
cat, when a buck ran out within twenty feet of him. He made a quick shot
at the buck, got him, and then ran after the cat. She had crawled under
some brush and thinking her dead he crawled after her. Just as he caught
hold of her leg to pull her out she turned on him and flew at his chest,
in which she embedded her claws. There was a lively tussle for a few
minutes, when he got away, and the cat crawled under a log. But when he
again attempted to pull her out she flew at him, apparently little the
worse for her wounds; and it was not till he succeeded in cutting her
throat that she died. He was pretty well clawed up, sufficiently to
deprive him of any further desire to tackle a bobcat, only a few of
whose lives had been expended.
Here is a native's sample story:
"Father had been troubled by a bear that ate his corn, so he sat up one
night to get him. He noted where the bear came in from the canebrake,
and placed himself so that the wind blew from that place to his stand.
It was bright moonlight. Along in the night came Bruin, sniffing and
grunting. He paused at the fence till satisfied the way was clear, then
knocked a rail off the top and clambered over. He made his way among the
corn, and rearing up began to pull off the ears and eat them. Then dad
fired a handful of buckshot into him, breaking his shoulder. The bear
made for the place he had crossed the fence, scrambled over, and crashed
through the brake. Dad marked him down as stopping at a huge dead tree
that could easily be seen above the canes.
"By this time the shot had aroused the folks, and dogs, darkies and men
came running out. The dogs sought the trail, but the only one that found
it was a little mongrel tyke, who started off after the bear and was
soon followed by the rest. The men tried to keep up, but dad ran right
for the big tree. A crooked branch across his path sprang into a coil
and rattled a warning at him. He stopped and gave it the other barrel,
and ran on. Coming up to the tree there was the bear, standing up, and
with his one arm raking the dogs whenever they ventured within reach.
Already the bravest showed evidences of his skill. One of the men shot
him--in fact they all shot, and the bear rolled over. Dad went up to
him, and some one remarked that he must be a tame bear, as his ear was
nicked. Dad felt the ear, and remarked how warm it was--and just then
the old bear whirled around, reared up, and seized dad in a real bear
hug. Fortunately it was a one-armed hug, and by a quick movement he was
able to wriggle away, and then one man who had not shot put his gun to
the bear's ear and shot half his head away. On the way home they picked
up the snake, which was seven feet long, and had 11 rattles and a
button."
* * * * *
At Shiloh Landing, Miss., our boys were told of a negro who ate glass.
He came in while they were there, and cracked up a lamp chimney and ate
it, literally and without deception. He said he could walk over broken
glass without harm. He also was impervious to snakes. And while they
talked a huge cotton-mouth copperhead wriggled out on the floor. There
was a unanimous and speedy resort to boxes, barrels and tables, till the
serpent was killed. It seems the negro has a fancy for collecting snakes
and had brought this one in in a box, from which he made his escape.
* * * * *
This morning we went out for robins, and got a mess; of which we
contributed one--could not shoot a little bit. After lunch we waited for
the mail and then bid good-bye to the kindly folk who had made Melville
so pleasant to us, and started on our journey up the Atchafalaya. The
river is wider, swifter and bigger than when we came down; and we will
be glad to get into the great river again. We have quite a collection of
skins--deer, cat and coon--gifts of our friends. We ran a few miles and
then the engine pump quit, and we tied up. Fair and clear, warm at
midday enough to make a vest a burden.
[Illustration: SPANISH MOSS (ATCHAFALAYA).]