asked by his wife to bring home some young turkeys for supper. Telling
her that he could soon do this, he called his dog, Watch, and was off
into the woodland. His faithful hound had been lame for more than a
month from the bite of the last bear which he had tackled, and was
still very stiff. He frisked about his master in spite of this, and
seemed to be all ready for anything that might turn up.
It was not long before the trapper saw three or four old turkeys with
perhaps thirty or forty young ones. He sent Watch after them, in order
to drive them towards him, but they flew into some low, white oak
trees. When Meshack walked fast, as if he were going past them, they
would sit still as they could for him to pass on. After taking twelve
or fifteen steps the trapper would shoot off their heads. He thus kept
on, until he had shot off the tops of nine young turkeys. This was
sufficient for the larder, and whistling to his dog, he turned about
for home.
Watch, however, seemed to be very much excited, and kept whining and
sniffing, as if some species of game were near.
“What is it, my boy?” asked his master.
For answer the dog bounded away towards a large mass of rocks. Here he
began to bark vociferously, so that the trapper felt sure that a bear
was concealed near by.
“Fetch him out, boy! Fetch him out!” he cried.
Down went the dog, and into a crevice in the rocks, while Meshack
raced to the other side. To his astonishment no bear came forth, but
a huge panther bounded into the open, and, jumping from rock to rock,
was soon out of sight. The dog followed along the rocks as best he
could, and both quarry and pursuer were soon lost to view. After a few
moments, however, the dog opened again, and seemed to be coming back
on the other side of the stones and laurel bushes, which here grew in
profusion.
Meshack turned to follow the dog. When he had gone a few steps he heard
something moving, and wheeling about, saw the panther creeping close
upon him. As he went behind some rocks Meshack levelled his rifle. When
he came out the trapper fired, directing the ball, as near as he could,
to the heart of the ferocious beast. The gun cracked. The panther
sprang into the air, snapping at the place where the ball struck him.
Then, turning towards the trapper, he came on, put his paws on a small,
fallen tree, and looked his adversary full in the face.
Meshack drew his hunting-knife, and, as the panther made a lunge
at him, struck at him again and again. The sharp claws ripped the
hunting-shirt of the bold pioneer and gashed his arms, but the fierce
thrusts of the hardened woodsman soon made the beast cease his attack.
He crawled into a leaning tree, where he sat for a moment glaring at
the man in buckskin, and then came to the ground. In spite of the fact
that he was bleeding profusely, he soon disappeared into a rocky cavern.
The bold trapper has written:
“I was really glad of it, for I found myself so nervous that I could
scarcely load my rifle, and, when the panther was looking at me, I was
determined that if he made an attempt to come near me, I would seek
safety in flight. He would have been obliged to ascend a steep hill,
and, as I had at least five steps the start of him, I do not think that
he could have caught me. If any man would run at all, I think this
would have been as good a cause as any he could have wished for. I
know, furthermore, that I would not have been distanced in the race.”
In the meantime Watch returned.
“Heigh on, Watch!” cried the trapper. “Go seek him out! Go seek him
out!”
The dog was off in a jiffy, and descended to a large mass of rocks
where he could be heard worrying the panther. The growling, snarling,
and yelping soon ceased, so Meshack hastened towards the sound. He saw
a den before him evidently in use for many years, and in the opening
lay the beast, stone dead. Watch was licking his chops, as much as to
say, “Now, what do you think of me, old boy? Didn’t I do a good day’s
work, eh?”
Meshack was delighted, for the panther was evidently an old stager.
He was of tremendous size. Many a dead deer had been found in this
particular part of the forest in years past, so it was evident that the
beast had ranged the woods for a long time. After his death no more
half-eaten deer were seen in the woods by the hunters and backwoodsmen,
so it was plainly evident that the mighty panther had been the cause of
all this loss. Certainly the trapper had had a dangerous encounter, and
had had a narrow escape from severe injuries.
Meshack had heard of a great den of bears on Meadow Mountain, called
the Big Gap, and on April 4th, 1803, he started out to hunt them with
a friend called Hugh. They were not long in reaching the ground where
the bears had denned, or “holed,” as the hunters called it. “It was,”
says the trapper, “the greatest place for bear holes I ever saw in my
life. I really believe that at least twenty had laid in one acre of
rock. They had all left their holes when we arrived, in order to go
out after acorns, except an old female and her younglings, which were
located in a deep place in the rocks.”
The dogs soon found this family of bears and attacked them, although
the old one fought with great fury, while her cubs ran for their lives.
As they passed by, Meshack shot at one and killed it, although Hugh
missed the one at which he fired. The old bear had left her hole,
meanwhile, and endeavored to follow after her young, but the dogs
worried her to such an extent that she did not get out of sight of the
hole before she was shot dead at the first fire. Two of the young ones
escaped.
The two trappers continued their hunt, and in the evening of the same
day fell in with another old female and two young bears. The dogs ran
them all up the same tree, but the laurel was so thick that as soon as
they shot the old one the young ones ran safely away, while the dogs
were worrying the mother. The dogs soon finished the parent bear, and,
setting off after the two young cubs, drew so close that they put up a
tree. Running after them, the trappers were not long in dispatching the
two fugitives. Thus, with two old bears, and three cubs, the huntsmen
felt that they had done a good day’s work. With great difficulty the
booty was carried home by means of two horses, and enough meat was
thus secured to last for the entire winter. Besides this, the hides of
the young cubs made an excellent carpet for the cabin of the pioneers.
Soon afterwards Meshack purchased some cattle, and, as there were
scores of wolves about, on the same night that he took his stock to his
home he missed one yearling, which he found had been killed by a wolf.
This made him very angry.
“Mr. Wolf shall pay me for my calf,” said he, “and with interest.”
Taking a shoulder of the calf, he laid it in a steel trap and placed
the bait in a running branch of water, taking care to hide it very
securely. On the third morning after putting out this snare he went to
the spot and found that the trap had disappeared.
Rain had fallen during the night and every trace of the wolf’s
footprints was destroyed. Nothing daunted, Meshack returned home,
called to both of his dogs, and endeavored to lay them on the trail.
But they could not scent it on account of the great rain.
The trapper knew that the wolf would go to the nearest laurel swamp,
to do which he had to cross a creek. Into this the pioneer waded and
walked down it for some distance. Finally he saw where the trap had
struck the bank as the wolf was crossing the stream. Wading back to the
dogs, he carried them to the other shore, and harked them on the track
of the wolf. At first the trail was very indistinct, but as they went
forward it became fresher and fresher.
In about half an hour the dogs began to give tongue and soon were hot
on the scent of the wary old fellow, who could not run very far because
the trap was fast to his hind legs. Finally there was a terrible
hullabaloo, and, running to the sound of the noise, Meshack saw that
the wolf had taken to a hollow tree. His head was sticking out, and
every time a dog approached, he bit at him and howled dismally.
The dogs were not afraid of the beast, and kept springing at him. Every
time a dog would come near enough the animal would snap viciously at
him, and, if possible, would sink every tooth in that part of his body
which he could reach. He was a terrible fellow,—black and shaggy.
Meshack encouraged his pets to do all in their power, crying:
“Hark on, boys! Lay on to him! Fetch the old varmint! Bite the old
calf-killer. Hit him, boys! Hit him!”
Finally the strongest dog took a deep hold on one of the wolf’s ears,
while the other seized the remaining one. The wolf came out of the tree
in a second, but the now energetic attackers threw him to the ground.
Again and again he endeavored to recover his feet, but they pulled him
over and over. They were all growing exhausted.
At this moment Meshack seized a club and took part in the battle. Again
and again he beat the old fellow over the head. Again and again the
dogs rolled him about. At length the fierce and ferocious beast gave a
great, despairing kick, and it was all over.
The trapper was delighted. Taking off the scalp and hide, he returned
to his cabin, and subsequently sold both for nine dollars,—the price
of two calves.
“My good wife,” said he, “I told you that I would make Mr. Wolf pay me
well, with interest, for his incursions upon my cattle. I have done it.”
And his wife answered:
“Meshack, you are a man of your word—God bless you!”
One other adventure of this famous trapper of the Alleghanies is
interesting, for he had another startling experience. This time he was
accompanied by his good friend, Hugh, who was often his companion in
bear and wolf hunting.
Deciding to go after bear at the Big Gap, Hugh and Meshack went into
camp within three miles of some rocks where many of these animals had
previously been seen in abundance. They arrived at the hunting-grounds
quite early, having one of their best dogs along, a fellow who could
handle almost any bear, whatever his size. The animal grew very lively
when near some rocks, and soon ran into a hole, where his yelping was
intermingled with loud growls, showing that some large animal was
inside. Again and again the trappers called to their faithful hound,
but he would not come out. There were three holes out of which Mr. Bear
might come bounding forth at any moment.
Meshack had given Hugh a bayonet, fixed on a handle like a pitchfork,
with directions to run it through the bear if he rushed by him. He,
himself, guarded the hole at which the animal was most likely to
appear. The dog was making a terrific noise, as he struggled with the
infuriated beast. The fight continued for half an hour, at the end of
which time Meshack espied a part of the bear, when peering through a
small crack in the rock. Putting his musket to the opening he fired.
With a roar and rush the wounded beast dashed into the open.
“Run your bayonet through him, Hugh!” yelled the trapper. “Run your
bayonet through him before he gets away!”
But Hugh was too timid to make the attempt. The enraged animal passed
him with an evil snarl, and as he scampered to a tree Meshack vainly
endeavored to ram another ball home in his rifle. The animal climbed
slowly up to a limb and lay there growling evilly.
“Now is your chance, Meshack!” shouted Hugh. “Get after him! Give him a
dose of lead!”
The trapper approached in order to secure a bead upon his victim, and,
standing beneath the tree, was just raising his rifle so as to take
good aim, when, with a mighty rush, Bruin came at him, through the air.
It was an unexpected attack, and quite out of the ordinary, so you can
well imagine what must the feelings of the trapper have been, as the
bear whirled above his head. Stepping aside, he fired at the brown mass
just as it reached the ground.
The fighting beast made a savage stroke at the trapper’s legs with his
right paw, but Meshack was too quick for him and jumped swiftly aside.
Again and again the monster endeavored to get a blow in upon the
pioneer, but each time the trapper dodged. Just then his dog appeared,
seized Bruin by the hind leg, causing the old fellow to turn about,
and snap at his antagonist. This gave the trapper a chance to load,
and, quickly ramming home another ball, he pointed his flint-lock at the
struggling beast, pulled the trigger, and planted a bullet in his body
near the heart. With a savage growl of despair the bear dropped to the
ground, where the faithful dog soon terminated his career.
“Hugh, where were you all this time?” asked the smiling Meshack.
His companion approached; much abashed at the small part he had taken
in the fray.
“R-e-ally,” said he, “I feared that my weapon was not sufficiently
strong in order to dispatch this monster. It might have bent, you know.
Then, where would I have been?”
Meshack laughed loudly.
“Well, I reckon, you would have been bent, too,” said he. “For this
fellow was surely a scrapper. Here, help me swing him on a pole and we
will take him home for the winter’s supply of food.”
This they did, and Bruin increased very materially the slender larder
for the winter months, when snow covered the trackless forests and it
was impossible to hunt, to fish, or to secure venison or bear-meat in
the deep and sombre woodland.
The early settlers, you see, being but few in numbers, had a hard time
to maintain themselves; if they had not been extremely economical
they could not have lived in the wilderness at all. They fashioned
their own clothes, they raised flax and wool, which the women spun and
wove into linen and linsey for the men; and made flannel for their own
wear. If any man wished to hire help there would be an understanding
beforehand as to what the wages were to be paid in. Sometimes pork,
beef, honey, or corn was used as a substitute for money. Sometimes a
calf, pig, deer-skin, bear-skin, coon-skin, or a wolf’s scalp would
suffice. The settlers all lived in cabins, and fed their children on
bread, meat, butter, honey, and milk. Coffee and tea were almost out of
the question. A few of the older ladies, who had been raised in other
parts of the country, alone could use these staples of diet. Meat was
plentiful, for, if the farmers could keep the wild animals away from
their hogs, the nuts and acorns would make them very fat. Pork, beef,
bear-meat, and venison were easily obtained. Wild meat was not thought
very much of, because it was most plentiful at all times.
Politics were little understood among the men in buckskin. Most of them
were Federalists. An election was usually held on the first Monday in
October, when all the settlers would gather at the polling booths,
arrayed in hunting-shirt and moccasins, almost every one of them with
a big knife stuck in his belt. A stranger would have thought this
some military party going to war, and, if a quarrel occurred, the two
contestants would rip off both coat and shirt, and fight until one or
the other acknowledged that he was the beaten individual. Then their
friends would take the bleeding combatants to the nearest stream and
give them both a good washing. This would usually end the quarrel. The
people were generous to strangers travelling through the country, and
if a wayfarer lost his path a hunter would pilot him five, six, or even
ten miles, until he was out of danger of being lost. They would refuse
all compensation for their services.
In such a community Meshack Browning continued his life, and, in spite
of numerous hairbreadth escapes from wounded bears and panthers,
successfully escaped from any serious injuries, and he did not kill
merely for the sake of killing. Honest and warm sentiments stirred his
bosom, as the following story will show.
One day he was following a large buck, which ran into a crevice in some
high rocks and there lay down. The trapper hurried after him, and,
mounting a large boulder, eagerly searched for a view of the cunning
animal. He stood on the rock and looked about him with the utmost care,
but could see nothing of the buck, until casting his eyes down at the
base of the rock directly below where he stood, there lay the fine
fellow contentedly chewing his cud, apparently considering himself
perfectly secure. He was watching the ground in front, not thinking
that an enemy could approach on the side which the rocks so completely
covered. Let me here quote the old trapper:
“The rock being fully twenty feet high, I was obliged to shoot nearly
straight down, but when I saw what a complete advantage I had,
it greatly marred my pleasure to think that such a noble animal,
possessing all the beauty bestowed by a pair of fine, large horns, a
well formed body, and tapering limbs; whose life had been innocently
spent (never having committed an injury against either man or beast)
should be thus sacrified. My desire of killing him was so weakened,
that I really had thought of letting him escape the death that was
then hanging over him, but again it occurred to me that he was one of
the creatures placed here for the use of man, that, if I let him go,
probably the next hunter who caught him in his power would surely kill
him, and that it would be as well for me to take him as to let any
other person have him.
“So, taking a good aim, I fired at this monarch of the forest, when
the poor fellow gave a few jumps, and fell dead. I declare the death
of that deer gave me more real pain than pleasure. He was a large, old
fellow, his head and his face being quite gray with age. I took his
skin and returned to my cabin, having the river to wade and at least a
mile to travel before I could reach home. The winter being then near, I
believe that the death of this buck ended the fall hunt.”
The seasoned trapper was not always accustomed to shoot bears.
Sometimes he would trap them in large log traps, hewn out of the forest
timber by means of the axe. To entice the animals into this box, he
used to roast the leg of a deer, and, while the meat was cooking, he
would rub honey over it, so that it would smell very strongly of the
latter. Then he would cut off pieces of this sweetened meat, would tie
them beneath his moccasins, would walk through the grounds which the
bears frequented and would return to the trap. Every bear which smelled
his tracks would follow the trail to the trap and would get caught in
it.
Shooting wolves was also varied by trapping wolves, and for this he
used to take a carcass of a cow or a horse, and lay it in a small
stream of water. Then he would go off some distance, so that the wolf
could not see where, and would cut bushes. He would stick the ends in
the mud so thickly that the wolf could get at the meat only in one
place, which was left open and clear. The carcass was so laid that the
wolf could eat at either side.
A wolf will never jump over the bait, but will hunt the stream for
a place to cross, in order to go around the other side, and eat.
Therefore, the wise trapper would leave a passage for the animal to
cross the water, and would set bushes about so thickly that they could
not get through in any other place. The stream would then be widened
where the wolves would pass, so that they could not step over it, and a
flat stone be placed in the centre with green moss laid on top, so that
it would look as if it had never been moved. Then meat would be cut
into small pieces, and strewn on both sides of these crossing-places,
both above and below the carcass.
When a gang of wolves would come to the meat the larger ones would
drive the smaller ones off. These would run about seeking food, and,
soon finding the small pieces strewn about the crossing-places, they
would run across, stepping upon the moss-covered stone as they did
so. Every time they returned they would be sure to go over the place,
setting their feet precisely in the same position on the stone.
The trapper would carefully watch the marks of the presence of the
wolves. When he found that they made tracks on the stone by wearing
away the moss with their feet he would remove the stone and put a steel
trap in its place, covering it over with green moss just as he had
covered the stone. When the animals came back, in order to seek food,
they would cross as before, place their feet in the trap, and would be
securely caught. The old ones, being at the meat when a young one would
be caught in the trap, would not be afraid to return,—as there was
nothing to scare them. After a while, however, all would become afraid
of the crossing-places. Then wise Meshack would place his trap in the
mud where they would stand to eat the meat. But after one was caught
in this place, all would desert, and trapping would be over with this
particular gang of wolves.
After capturing them in this manner for several years they became so
cunning that they would not touch any bait which was offered them. The
trapper therefore adopted another plan, which was as follows:
He found that they would pick up any fragments of old bones that lay
upon the ground, but if they lay in water, or close to it, they would
not touch them. He therefore saved all the large bones from the table,
particularly the joint ends of beef bones. He would beat them to
pieces, mount his horse, so that his tracks would not be scented, and
would scatter the stuff over a considerable area of land. Around this
space he would then stick some bushes; so that the wolves, in order to
get at the mess, would have to pass through an opening in the brush.
The wolves would soon find the bones and eat them up. Then they would
be given a second meal. But, meanwhile, a trap would be placed at the
opening of the bushes and would be stuck in a hole of its own size. All
the extra dirt would be carried away. The trap would be pressed down an
inch below the surface. Old leaves would then be laid over it, and it
would also be covered with an inch of buckwheat bran, which would keep
the wolves from smelling the iron. Then the skillful trapper would take
some of the grass, which grew around the spot, and lay it carefully
over the trap, so that no eye would discern the difference between that
particular place and the surrounding earth. When this was done early in
the morning, or before a shower of rain which would destroy all smell,
a wolf would be always caught as he came up in search of the little
bones. The pioneer was most successful in this method of defeating the
cunning of the shy and treacherous animals, who were so destructive to
the live stock of the settlers that a considerable sum was paid for
their scalps.
That the wolves were fearless the following story will bear full
witness:
A friend of the trapper’s called Mr. Calmes, was travelling from
Virginia to Kentucky with a number of others, at a time when the
Indians were very troublesome. In passing through the wilderness they
saw so many trails of the red men that they were afraid to keep a fire
burning at night for fear that the prowling savages might see their
light and attack them by surprise. They would therefore let their wood
burn until their supper was cooked, then they would smother the embers
and lie down in the dark.
One night they heard an animal moving around them, and seizing their
guns, made ready to shoot it. But the animal, whatever it was, made off
in the woodland. By its tracks they could see that it was a huge wolf.
After the excitement had subsided they all lay down again to sleep,
and one of them so stretched himself upon the ground that his head was
exposed outside of the camp. When he was asleep the wolf returned,
and, creeping upon him stealthily, bit him so severely about the head
that he died before daybreak, without speaking a word to his anxious
companions. Mr. Calmes often said that had this ferocious animal found
a man in the woods by himself, and if it was at a time when he was
particularly hungry, he would have fallen upon him and would have
killed him at once. He wound up this grewsome yarn with the sage advice
to the trapper to kill all the wolves that he could.
“Browning,” said he, “your hunting is really a great service to this
country, for, if you come upon one of these sneaking wolves, you must
spare no pain to kill him. There is no knowing how many cattle, sheep,
and hogs you will thus save to the inhabitants. I was going to tell you
to be prepared for them, but I know that you understand the rascals and
will take care of yourself. Whatever you do, do not let one of these
bad fellows escape if you can help it.”