“I guess, by all this quaint array,
The burghers hold their sports to-day.”
--Scott.
The ancient amusement of shooting the Christmas turkey is one of the
few sports that the settlers of a new country seldom or never neglect to
observe. It was connected with the daily practices of a people who often
laid aside the axe or the scythe to seize the rifle, as the deer glided
through the forests they were felling, or the bear entered their rough
meadows to scent the air of a clearing, and to scan, with a look of
sagacity, the progress of the invader.
On the present occasion, the usual amusement of the day had been a
little hastened, in order to allow a fair opportunity to Mr. Grant, whose
exhibition was not less a treat to the young sportsmen than the one
which engaged their present attention. The owner of the birds was a free
black, who had prepared for the occasion a collection of game that was
admirably qualified to inflame the appetite of an epicure, and was well
adapted to the means and skill of the different competitors, who were of
all ages. He had offered to the younger and more humble marks men divers
birds of an inferior quality, and some shooting had already taken place,
much to the pecuniary advantage of the sable owner of the game. The
order of the sports was extremely simple, and well understood. The
bird was fastened by a string to the stump of a large pine, the side
of which, toward the point where the marksmen were placed, had been
flattened with an axe, in order that it might serve the purpose of a
target, by which the merit of each individual might be ascertained. The
distance between the stump and shooting-stand was one hundred measured
yards; a foot more or a foot less being thought an invasion of the right
of one of the parties. The negro affixed his own price to every bird,
and the terms of the chance; but, when these were once established, he
was obliged, by the strict principles of public justice that prevailed
in the country, to admit any adventurer who might offer.
The throng consisted of some twenty or thirty young men, most of whom
had rifles, and a collection of all the boys in the village. The little
urchins, clad in coarse but warm garments, stood gathered around
the more distinguished marksmen, with their hands stuck under their
waistbands, listening eagerly to the boastful stories of skill that had
been exhibited on former occasions, and were already emulating in their
hearts these wonderful deeds in gunnery.
The chief speaker was the man who had been mentioned by Natty as Billy
Kirby. This fellow, whose occupation, when he did labor, was that of
clearing lands, or chopping jobs, was of great stature, and carried in
his very air the index of his character. He was a noisy, boisterous,
reckless lad, whose good-natured eye contradicted the bluntness and
bullying tenor of his speech. For weeks he would lounge around the
taverns of the county, in a state of perfect idleness, or doing small
jobs for his liquor and his meals, and cavilling with applicants about
the prices of his labor; frequently preferring idleness to an abatement
of a little of his independence, or a cent in his wages. But, when these
embarrassing points were satisfactorily arranged, he would shoulder his
axe and his rifle, slip his arms through the straps of his pack, and
enter the woods with the tread of a Hercules. His first object was to
learn his limits, round which he would pace, occasionally freshening,
with a blow of his axe, the marks on the boundary trees; and then he
would proceed, with an air of great deliberation, to the centre of his
premises, and, throwing aside his superfluous garments, measure, with
a knowing eye, one or two of the nearest trees that were towering
apparently into the very clouds as he gazed upward. Commonly selecting
one of the most noble for the first trial of his power, he would
approach it with a listless air, whistling a low tune; and wielding his
axe with a certain flourish, not unlike the salutes of a fencing-master,
he would strike a light blow into the bark, and measure his distance.
The pause that followed was ominous of the fall of the forest which had
flourished there for centuries. The heavy and brisk blows that he struck
were soon succeeded by the thundering report of the tree, as it came,
first cracking and threatening with the separation of its own last
ligaments, then threshing and tearing with its branches the tops of its
surrounding brethren, and finally meeting the ground with a shock but
little inferior to an earthquake. From that moment the sounds of the
axe were ceaseless, while the failing of the trees was like a distant
cannonading; and the daylight broke into the depths of the woods with
the suddenness of a winter morning.
For days, weeks, nay months, Billy Kirby would toil with an ardor that
evinced his native spirit, and with an effect that seemed magical,
until, his chopping being ended, his stentorian lungs could be heard
emitting sounds, as he called to his patient oxen, which rang through
the hills like the cries of an alarm. He had been often heard, on a
mild summer' evening, a long mile across the vale of Templeton; when the
echoes from the mountains would take up his cries, until they died away
in the feeble sounds from the distant rocks that overhung the lake. His
piles, or, to use the language of the country, his logging ended, with a
dispatch that could only accompany his dexterity and herculean strength,
the jobber would collect together his implements of labor, light the
heaps of timber, and march away under the blaze of the prostrate forest,
like the conqueror of some city who, having first prevailed over his
adversary, applies the torch as the finishing blow to his conquest.
For a long time Billy Kirby would then be seen sauntering around the
taverns, the rider of scrub races, the bully of cock-fights, and not
infrequently the hero of such sports as the one in hand.
Between him and the Leather-Stocking there had long existed a jealous
rivalry on the point of skill with the rifle. Notwithstanding the long
practice of Natty, it was commonly supposed that the steady nerves
and the quick eye of the wood-chopper rendered him his equal. The
competition had, however, been confined hitherto to boasting, and
comparisons made from their success in various hunting excursions; but
this was the first time they had ever come in open collision. A good
deal of higgling about the price of the choicest bird had taken place
between Billy Kirby and its owner before Natty and his companions
rejoined the sportsmen It had, however, been settled at one shilling *
a shot, which was the highest sum ever exacted, the black taking care to
protect himself from losses, as much as possible, by the conditions of
the sport.
* Before the Revolution, each province had its own money of account
though neither coined any but copper pieces. In New York the Spanish
dollar was divided into eight shillings, each of the value of a
fraction more than sixpence sterling. At present the Union has
provided a decimal system, with coins to represent it.
The turkey was already fastened at the “mark,” but its body was entirely
hid by the surrounding snow, nothing being visible but its red swelling
head and its long neck. If the bird was injured by any bullet that
struck below the snow, it was to continue the property of its present
owner; but if a feather was touched in a visible part, the animal became
the prize of the successful adventurer.
These terms were loudly proclaimed by the negro, who was seated in
the snow, in a somewhat hazardous vicinity to his favorite bird, when
Elizabeth and her cousin approached the noisy sportsmen. The sounds of
mirth and contention sensibly lowered at this unexpected visit; but,
after a moment's pause, the curious interest exhibited in the face of
the young lady, together with her smiling air, restored the freedom
of the morning; though it was somewhat chastened, both in language and
vehemence, by the presence of such a spectator.
“Stand out of the way there, boys!” cried the wood-chopper, who was
placing himself at the shooting-point--stand out of the way, you little
rascals, or I will shoot through you. Now, Brom, take leave of your
turkey.
“Stop!” cried the young hunter; “I am a candidate for a chance. Here is
my shilling, Brom; I wish a shot too.”
“You may wish it in welcome,” cried Kirby, “but if I ruffle the
gobbler's feathers, how are you to get it? Is money so plenty in your
deer-skin pocket, that you pay for a chance that you may never have?”
“How know you, sir, how plenty money is in my pocket?” said the youth
fiercely. “Here is my shilling, Brom, and I claim a right to shoot.”
“Don't be crabbed, my boy,” said the other, who was very coolly fixing
his flint. “They say you have a hole in your left shoulder yourself, so
I think Brom may give you a fire for half-price. It will take a keen one
to hit that bird, I can tell you, my lad, even if I give you a chance,
which is what I have no mind to do.”
“Don't be boasting, Billy Kirby,” said Natty, throwing the breech of his
rifle into the snow, and leaning on its barrel; “you'll get but one
shot at the creatur', for if the lad misses his aim, which wouldn't be
a wonder if he did, with his arm so stiff and sore, you'll find a good
piece and an old eye coming a'ter you. Maybe it's true that I can't
shoot as I used to could, but a hundred yards is a short distance for a
long rifle.”
“What, old Leather-Stocking, are you out this morning?” cried his
reckless opponent. “Well, fair play's a jewel. I've the lead of you, old
fellow; so here goes for a dry throat or a good dinner.”
The countenance of the negro evinced not only all the interest which his
pecuniary adventure might occasion, but also the keen excitement that
the sport produced in the others, though with a very different wish as
to the result. While the wood-chopper was slowly and steadily raising
his rifle, he bawled;
“Fair play, Billy Kirby--stand back--make 'em stand back, boys--gib a
nigger fair play--poss-up,--gobbler; shake a head, fool; don't you see
'em taking aim?”
These cries, which were intended as much to distract the attention of
the marksman as for anything else, were fruitless.
The nerves of the wood-chopper were not so easily shaken, and he took
his aim with the utmost deliberation. Stillness prevailed for a moment,
and he fired. The head of the turkey was seen to dash on one side, and
its wings were spread in momentary fluttering; but it settled itself
down calmly into its bed of snow, and glanced its eyes uneasily around.
For a time long enough to draw a deep breath, not a sound was heard.
The silence was then broken by the noise of the negro, who laughed, and
shook his body with all kinds of antics, rolling over in the snow in the
excess of delight.
“Well done, a gobbler,” he cried, jumping up and affecting to embrace
his bird; “I tell 'em to poss-up, and you see 'em dodge. Gib anoder
shillin', Billy, and halb anoder shot.”
“No--the shot is mine,” said the young hunter; “you have my money
already. Leave the mark, and let me try my luck.”
“Ah! it's but money thrown away, lad,” said Leather-Stocking. “A
turkey's head and neck is but a small mark for a new hand and a lame
shoulder. You'd best let me take the fire, and maybe we can make some
settlement with the lady about the bird.”
“The chance is mine,” said the young hunter. “Clear the ground, that I
may take it.”
The discussions and disputes concerning the last shot were now abating,
it having been determined that if the turkey's head had been anywhere
but just where it was at that moment, the bird must certainly have been
killed. There was not much excitement produced by the preparations of
the youth, who proceeded in a hurried manner to take his aim, and was in
the act of pulling the trigger, when he was stopped by Natty.
“Your hand shakes, lad,” he said, “and you seem over eager.
Bullet-wounds are apt to weaken flesh, and to my judgment you'll not
shoot so well as in common. If you will fire, you should shoot quick,
before there is time to shake off the aim.”
“Fair play,” again shouted the negro; “fair play--gib a nigger fair
play. What right a Nat Bumppo advise a young man? Let 'em shoot--clear a
ground.”
The youth fired with great rapidity, but no motion was made by the
turkey; and, when the examiners for the ball returned from the “mark,”
they declared that he had missed the stump.
Elizabeth observed the change in his countenance, and could not help
feeling surprise that one so evidently superior to his companions should
feel a trifling loss so sensibly. But her own champion was now preparing
to enter the lists.
The mirth of Brom, which had been again excited, though in a much
smaller degree than before, by the failure of the second adventurer,
vanished the instant Natty took his stand. His skin became mottled
with large brown spots, that fearfully sullied the lustre of his native
ebony, while his enormous lips gradually compressed around two rows of
ivory that had hitherto been shining in his visage like pearls set in
jet. His nostrils, at all times the most conspicuous feature of his
face, dilated until they covered the greater part of the diameter of his
countenance; while his brown and bony hands unconsciously grasped the
snow-crust near him, the excitement of the moment completely overcoming
his native dread of cold.
While these indications of apprehension were exhibited in the sable
owner of the turkey, the man who gave rise to this extraordinary emotion
was as calm and collected as if there was not to be a single spectator
of his skill.
“I was down in the Dutch settlements on the Schoharie,” said Natty,
carefully removing the leather guard from the lock of his rifle, “just
before the breaking out of the last war, and there was a shooting-match
among the boys; so I took a hand. I think I opened a good many Dutch
eyes that day; for I won the powder-horn, three bars of lead, and a
pound of as good powder as ever flashed in pan. Lord! how they did swear
in Jarman! They did tell me of one drunken Dutchman who said he'd have
the life of me before I got back to the lake agin. But if he had put his
rifle to his shoulder with evil intent God would have punished him for
it; and even if the Lord didn't, and he had missed his aim, I know one
that would have given him as good as he sent, and better too, if good
shooting could come into the 'count.” By this time the old hunter was
ready for his business, and throwing his right leg far behind him, and
stretching his left arm along the barrel of his piece, he raised it
toward the bird, Every eye glanced rapidly from the marks man to the
mark; but at the moment when each ear was expecting the report of the
rifle, they were disappointed by the ticking sound of the flint.
“A snap, a snap!” shouted the negro, springing from his crouching
posture like a madman, before his bird. “A snap good as fire--Natty
Bumppo gun he snap--Natty Bumppo miss a turkey!”
“Natty Bumppo hit a nigger,” said the indignant old hunter, “if you don't
get out of the way, Brom. It's contrary to the reason of the thing, boy,
that a snap should count for a fire, when one is nothing more than a
fire-stone striking a steel pan, and the other is sudden death; so get
out of my way, boy, and let me show Billy Kirby how to shoot a Christmas
turkey.”
“Gib a nigger fair play!” cried the black, who continued resolutely to
maintain his post, and making that appeal to the justice of his auditors
which the degraded condition of his caste so naturally suggested.
“Eberybody know dat snap as good as fire. Leab it to Massa Jone--leab it
to lady.”
“Sartain,” said the wood-chopper; “it's the law of the game in this part
of the country, Leather-Stocking. If you fire agin you must pay up the
other shilling. I b'lieve I'll try luck once more myself; so, Brom,
here's my money, and I take the next fire.”
“It's likely you know the laws of the woods better than I do, Billy
Kirby,” returned Natty. “You come in with the settlers, with an ox-goad
in your hand, and I come in with moccasins on my feet, and with a good
rifle on my shoulders, so long back as afore the old war. Which is
likely to know the best? I say no man need tell me that snapping is as
good as firing when I pull the trigger.”
“Leab it to Massa Jone,” said the alarmed negro; “he know eberyting.”
This appeal to the knowledge of Richard was too flattering to be
unheeded. He therefore advanced a little from the spot whither the
delicacy of Elizabeth had induced her to withdraw, and gave the
following opinion, with the gravity that the subject and his own rank
demanded:
“There seems to be a difference in opinion,” he said, “on the subject of
Nathaniel Bumppo's right to shoot at Abraham Freeborn's turkey without
the said Nathaniel paying one shilling for the privilege.” The fact was
too evident to be denied, and after pausing a moment, that the audience
might digest his premises, Richard proceeded: “It seems proper that I
should decide this question, as I am bound to preserve the peace of
the county; and men with deadly weapons in their hands should not be
heedlessly left to contention and their own malignant passions. It
appears that there was no agreement, either in writing or in words, on
the disputed point; therefore we must reason from analogy, which is,
as it were, comparing one thing with another. Now, in duels, where both
parties shoot, it is generally the rule that a snap is a fire; and if
such is the rule where the party has a right to fire back again, it
seems to me unreasonable to say that a man may stand snapping at a
defenceless turkey all day. I therefore am of the opinion that Nathaniel
Bumppo has lost his chance, and must pay another shilling before he
renews his right.”
As this opinion came from so high a quarter, and was delivered with
effect, it silenced all murmurs--for the whole of the spectators had
begun to take sides with great warmth--except from the Leather-Stocking
himself.
“I think Miss Elizabeth's thoughts should be taken,” said Natty. “I've
known the squaws give very good counsel when the Indians had been
dumfounded. If she says that I ought to lose, I agree to give it up.”
“Then I adjudge you to be a loser for this time,” said Miss Temple; “but
pay your money and renew your chance; unless Brom will sell me the bird
for a dollar. I will give him the money, and save the life of the poor
victim.”
This proposition was evidently but little relished by any of the
listeners, even the negro feeling the evil excitement of the chances. In
the mean while, as Billy Kirby was preparing himself for another shot,
Natty left the stand, with an extremely dissatisfied manner, muttering:
“There hasn't been such a thing as a good flint sold at the foot of the
lake since the Indian traders used to come into the country; and, if a
body should go into the flats along the streams in the hills to hunt for
such a thing, it's ten to one but they will be all covered up with the
plough. Heigho! it seems to me that just as the game grows scarce, and
a body wants the best ammunition to get a livelihood, everything that's
bad falls on him like a judgment. But I'll change the stone, for Billy
Kirby hasn't the eye for such a mark, I know.”
The wood-chopper seemed now entirely sensible that his reputation
depended on his care; nor did he neglect any means to insure success. He
drew up his rifle, and renewed his aim again and again, still appearing
reluctant to fire, No sound was heard from even Brom, during these
portentous movements, until Kirby discharged his piece, with the same
want of success as before. Then, indeed, the shouts of the negro rang
through the bushes and sounded among the trees of the neighboring forest
like the outcries of a tribe of Indians. He laughed, rolling his head
first on one side, then on the other, until nature seemed exhausted with
mirth. He danced until his legs were wearied with motion in the snow;
and, in short, he exhibited all that violence of joy that characterizes
the mirth of a thoughtless negro.
The wood-chopper had exerted all his art, and felt a proportionate
degree of disappointment at the failure. He first examined the bird with
the utmost attention, and more than once suggested that he had touched
its feathers; but the voice of the multitude was against him, for it
felt disposed to listen to the often-repeated cries of the black to “gib
a nigger fair play.”
Finding it impossible to make out a title to the bird, Kirby turned
fiercely to the black and said:
“Shut your oven, you crow! Where is the man that can hit a turkey's head
at a hundred yards? I was a fool for trying. You needn't make an uproar
like a falling pine-tree about it. Show me the man who can do it.”
“Look this a-way, Billy Kirby,” said Leather-Stocking, “and let them
clear the mark, and I'll show you a man who's made better shots afore
now, and that when he's been hard pressed by the savages and wild
beasts.”
“Perhaps there is one whose rights come before ours, Leather-Stocking,”
said Miss Temple. “If so, we will waive our privilege.”
“If it be me that you have reference to,” said the young hunter, “I
shall decline another chance. My shoulder is yet weak, I find.”
Elizabeth regarded his manner, and thought that she could discern a
tinge on his cheek that spoke the shame of conscious poverty. She said
no more, but suffered her own champion to make a trial. Although Natty
Bumppo had certainly made hundreds of more momentous shots at his
enemies or his game, yet he never exerted himself more to excel. He
raised his piece three several times: once to get his range; once
to calculate his distance; and once because the bird, alarmed by the
death-like stillness, turned its head quickly to examine its foes. But
the fourth time he fired. The smoke, the report, and the momentary shock
prevented most of the spectators from instantly knowing the result; but
Elizabeth, when she saw her champion drop the end of his rifle in the
snow and open his mouth in one of its silent laughs, and then proceed
very coolly to recharge his piece, knew that he had been successful. The
boys rushed to the mark, and lifted the turkey on high, lifeless, and
with nothing but the remnant of a head. “Bring in the creatur',” said
Leather-Stocking, “and put it at the feet of the lady. I was her deputy
in the matter, and the bird is her property.”
“And a good deputy you have proved yourself,” returned
Elizabeth--“so good, Cousin Richard, that I would advise you to remember
his qualities.” She paused, and the gayety that beamed on her face gave
place to a more serious earnestness. She even blushed a little as she
turned to the young hunter, and with the charm of a woman's manner
added: “But it was only to see an exhibition of the far-famed skill of
Leather-Stocking, that I tried my fortunes. Will you, sir, accept the
bird as a small peace offering for the hurt that prevented your own
success?”
The expression with which the youth received this present was
indescribable, He appeared to yield to the blandishment of her air, in
opposition to a strong inward impulse to the contrary. He bowed, and
raised the victim silently from her feet, but continued silent.
Elizabeth handed the black a piece of silver as a remuneration for his
loss, which had some effect in again unbending his muscles, and then
expressed to her companion her readiness to return homeward.
“Wait a minute, Cousin Bess,” cried Richard; “there is an uncertainty
about the rules of this sport that it is proper I should remove. If you
will appoint a committee, gentlemen, to wait on me this morning, I
will draw up in writing a set of regulations--' He stopped, with some
indignation, for at that instant a hand was laid familiarly on the
shoulder of the High Sheriff of--.
“A merry Christmas to you, Cousin Dickon,” said Judge Temple, who had
approached the party unperceived: “I must have a vigilant eye to my
daughter, sir, if you are to be seized daily with these gallant fits. I
admire the taste which would introduce a lady to such scenes!”
“It is her own perversity, 'Duke,” cried the disappointed sheriff, who
felt the loss of the first salutation as grievously as many a man would
a much greater misfortune; “and I must say that she comes honestly by
it. I led her out to show her the improvements, but away she scampered,
through the snow, at the first sound of fire-arms, the same as if she
had been brought up in a camp, instead of a first-rate boarding-school.
I do think, Judge Temple, that such dangerous amusements should be
suppressed, by statute; nay, I doubt whether they are not already
indictable at common law.”
“Well, sir, as you are sheriff of the county, it becomes your duty to
examine into the matter,” returned the smiling Marmaduke, “I perceive
that Bess has executed her commission, and I hope it met with a
favorable reception.” Richard glanced his eye at the packet which
he held in his hand, and the slight anger produced by disappointment
vanished instantly.
“Ah! 'Duke, my dear cousin,” he said, “step a little on one side; I have
something I would say to you.”
Marmaduke complied, and the sheriff led him to a little distance in the
bushes, and continued: “First, 'Duke, let me thank you for your friendly
interest with the Council and the Governor, without which I am confident
that the greatest merit would avail but little. But we are sisters'
children--we are sisters' children, and you may use me like one of your
horses; ride me or drive me, 'Duke, I am wholly yours. But in my humble
opinion, this young companion of Leather-Stocking requires looking
after. He has a very dangerous propensity for turkey.”
“Leave him to my management, Dickon,” said the Judge, “and I will cure
his appetite by indulgence. It is with him that I would speak. Let us
rejoin the sportsmen.”