our canoe; a boy bears on his back a hundred toads as good as ever
hopped. Our line--oh, I forgot to inform you that we had set it last
night, but without the small ones you now see on my arm. Fastening one
end to yon sycamore, we paddled our canoe, with the rest nicely coiled
in the stern, and soon reached its extremity, when I threw over the side
the heavy stone fastened to it as a sinker. All this was done that it
might be thoroughly soaked, and without kinks or snarls in the morning.
Now, you observe, we launch our light bark, the toads in the basket are
placed next to my feet in the bow; I have the small lines across my
knees already looped at the end. Nat, with the paddle, and assisted by
the current, keeps the stern of our boat directly down stream; and David
fixes by the skin of the back and hind parts, the living bait to the
hook. I hold the main line all the while, and now, having fixed one
linelet to it, over goes the latter. Can you see the poor toad kicking
and flouncing in the water? "No?"--well, I do. You observe at length
that all the lines, one after another, have been fixed, baited, and
dropped. We now return swiftly to the shore.
"What a delightful thing is fishing!" have I more than once heard some
knowing angler exclaim, who, with "the patience of Job," stands or
slowly moves along some rivulet twenty feet wide, and three or four feet
deep, with a sham fly to allure a trout, which, when at length caught,
weighs half a pound. Reader, I never had such patience. Although I have
waited ten years, and yet see only three-fourths of the "Birds of
America" engraved, although some of the drawings of that work were
patiently made so long ago as 1805, and although I have to wait with
patience two years more before I see the end of it, I never could hold a
line or a rod for many minutes, unless I had--not a "nibble" but a
hearty bite, and could throw the fish at once over my head on the
ground. No, no--if I fish for trout, I must soon give up, or catch as I
have done in Pennsylvania's Lehigh, or the streams of Maine, fifty or
more in a couple of hours. But the trot-line is in the river, and there
_it_ may patiently wait, until I visit it towards night. Now I take up
my gun and note-book, and accompanied by my dog, intend to ramble
through the woods until breakfast. Who knows but I may shoot a turkey or
a deer? It is barely four o'clock, and see what delightful mornings we
have at this season in Kentucky!
Evening has returned. The heavens have already opened their twinkling
eyes, although the orb of day has yet scarcely withdrawn itself from our
view. How calm is the air! The nocturnal insects and quadrupeds are
abroad; the Bear is moving through the dark cane-brake, the land Crows
are flying towards their roosts, their aquatic brethren towards the
interior of the forests, the Squirrel is barking his adieu, and the
Barred Owl glides silently and swiftly from his retreat to seize upon
the gay and noisy animal. The boat is pushed off from the shore; the
main line is in my hands; now it shakes, surely some fish have been
hooked. Hand over hand I proceed to the first hook. Nothing there! but
now I feel several jerks, stronger and more frequent than before.
Several hooks I pass; but see, what a fine catfish is twisting round and
round the little line to which he is fast! Nat, look to your gaff--hook
him close to the tail. Keep it up, my dear fellow!--there now, we have
him. More are on, and we proceed. When we have reached the end many
goodly fishes are lying in the bottom of our skiff. New bait has been
put on, and, as we return, I congratulate myself and my companions on
the success of our efforts; for there lies fish enough for ourselves and
our neighbors.
A trot-line at this period was perfectly safe at Henderson, should I
have allowed it to remain for weeks at a time. The navigation was mostly
performed by flat-bottomed boats, which during calm nights floated in
the middle current of the river, so that the people on board could not
observe the fish that had been hooked. Not a single steamer had as yet
ever gone down the Ohio; now and then, it is true, a barge or a
keel-boat was propelled by poles and oars, but the nature of the river
is such at that place, that these boats when ascending were obliged to
keep near the Indiana shore, until above the landing of the village
(below which I always fixed my lines), when they pulled across the
stream.
Several species or varieties of catfish are found in the Ohio, namely,
the Blue, the White, and the Mud Cats, which differ considerably in
their form and color, as well as in their habits. The Mud Cat is the
best, although it seldom attains so great a size as the rest. The Blue
Cat is the coarsest, but when not exceeding from four to six pounds it
affords tolerable eating. The White Cat is preferable to the last, but
not so common; and the Yellow Mud Cat is the best and rarest. Of the
Blue kind some have been caught that weighed a hundred pounds. Such
fish, however, are looked upon as monsters.
The form in all the varieties inclines to the conical, the head being
disproportionately large, while the body tapers away to the root of the
tail. The eyes, which are small, are placed far apart, and situated as
it were on the top of the forehead, but laterally. Their mouth is wide
and armed with numerous small and very sharp teeth, while it is defended
by single-sided spines, which, when the fish is in the agonies of death,
stand out at right angles, and are so firmly fixed as sometimes to break
before you can loosen them. The catfish has also feelers of
proportionate length, apparently intended to guide its motions over the
bottom, whilst its eyes are watching the objects passing above.
Trot-lines cannot be used with much success unless during the middle
stages of the water. When very low, it is too clear, and the fish,
although extremely voracious, will rarely risk its life for a toad. When
the waters are rising rapidly, your trot-lines are likely to be carried
away by one of the numerous trees that float in the stream. A "happy
medium" is therefore best.
When the waters are rising fast and have become muddy, a single line is
used for catching catfish. It is fastened to the elastic branch of some
willow several feet above the water, and must be twenty or thirty feet
in length. The entrails of a Wild Turkey, or a piece of fresh venison
furnish good bait; and if, when you visit your line the next morning
after you have set it, the water has not risen too much, the swinging of
the willow indicates that a fish has been hooked, and you have only to
haul the prize ashore.
One evening I saw that the river was rising at a great rate, although it
was still within its banks. I knew that the white perch were running,
that is, ascending the river from the sea, and, anxious to have a
tasting of that fine fish, I baited a line with a crayfish, and fastened
it to the bough of a tree. Next morning as I pulled in the line, it
felt as if fast at the bottom, yet on drawing it slowly I found that it
came. Presently I felt a strong pull, the line slipped through my
fingers, and next instant a large catfish leaped out of the water. I
played it for a while until it became exhausted, when I drew it ashore.
It had swallowed the hook, and I cut off the line close to its head.
Then passing a stick through one of the gills, I and a servant tugged
the fish home. On cutting it open, we, to our surprise, found in its
stomach a fine white perch, dead, but not in the least injured. The
perch had been lightly hooked, and the catfish, after swallowing it, had
been hooked in the stomach, so that, although the instrument was small,
the torture caused by it no doubt tended to disable the catfish. The
perch we ate, and the cat, which was fine, we divided into four parts,
and distributed among our neighbors. My most worthy friend and relative,
Nicholas Berthoud, Esq., who formerly resided at Shippingport in
Kentucky, but now in New York, a better fisher than whom I never knew,
once placed a trot-line in the basin below "Tarascon's Mills," at the
foot of the Rapids of the Ohio. I cannot recollect the bait which was
used; but on taking up the line we obtained a remarkably fine catfish,
in which was found the greater part of a sucking pig.
I may here add that I have introduced a figure of the catfish in Plate
XXXI. of the first volume of my illustrations, in which I have
represented the White-headed Eagle.
A WILD HORSE
While residing at Henderson in Kentucky, I became acquainted with a
gentleman who had just returned from the country in the neighborhood of
the head-waters of the Arkansas River, where he had purchased a newly
caught "Wild Horse," a descendant of some of the horses originally
brought from Spain, and set at liberty in the vast prairies of the
Mexican lands. The animal was by no means handsome; he had a large head,
with a considerable prominence in its frontal region, his thick and
unkempt mane hung along his neck to the breast, and his tail, too scanty
to be called flowing, almost reached the ground. But his chest was
broad, his legs clean and sinewy, and his eyes and nostrils indicated
spirit, vigor, and endurance. He had never been shod, and although he
had been ridden hard, and had performed a long journey, his black hoofs
had suffered no damage. His color inclined to bay, the legs of a deeper
tint, and gradually darkening below until they became nearly black. I
inquired what might be the value of such an animal among the Osage
Indians, and was answered that, the horse being only four years old, he
had given for him, with the tree and the buffalo-tug fastened to his
head, articles equivalent to about thirty-five dollars. The gentleman
added that he had never mounted a better horse, and had very little
doubt that, if well fed, he could carry a man of ordinary weight from
thirty-five to forty miles a day for a month, as he had travelled at
that rate upon him, without giving him any other food than the grass of
the prairies, or the canes of the bottom lands, until he had crossed the
Mississippi at Natchez, when he fed him with corn. Having no farther use
for him, now that he had ended his journey, he said he was anxious to
sell him, and thought he might prove a good hunting-horse for me, as his
gaits were easy, and he stood fire as well as any charger he had seen.
Having some need of a horse possessed of qualities similar to those
represented as belonging to the one in question, I asked if I might be
allowed to try him. "Try him, sir, and welcome; nay, if you will agree
to feed him and take care of him, you may keep him for a month if you
choose." So I had the horse taken to the stable and fed.
About two hours afterwards, I took my gun, mounted the prairie nag, and
went to the woods. I was not long in finding him very sensible to the
spur, and as I observed that he moved with great ease, both to himself
and his rider, I thought of leaping over a log several feet in diameter,
to judge how far he might prove serviceable in deer-driving or
bear-hunting. So I gave him the reins, and pressed my legs to his belly
without using the spur, on which, as if aware that I wished to try his
mettle, he bounded off, and cleared the log as lightly as an elk. I
turned him, and made him leap the same log several times, which he did
with equal ease, so that I was satisfied of his ability to clear any
impediment in the woods. I next determined to try his strength, for
which purpose I took him to a swamp, which I knew was muddy and tough.
He entered it with his nose close to the water, as if to judge of its
depth, at which I was well pleased, as he thus evinced due caution. I
then rode through the swamp in different directions, and found him
prompt, decided, and unflinching. Can he swim well? thought I,--for
there are horses, which, although excellent, cannot swim at all, but
will now and then lie on their side, as if contented to float with the
current, when the rider must either swim and drag them to the shore, or
abandon them. To the Ohio then I went, and rode into the water. He made
off obliquely against the current, his head well raised above the
surface, his nostrils expanded, his breathing free, and without any of
the grunting noise emitted by many horses on such occasions. I turned
him down the stream, then directly against it, and finding him quite to
my mind, I returned to the shore, on reaching which he stopped of his
own accord, spread his legs, and almost shook me off my seat. After
this, I put him to a gallop, and returning home through the woods, shot
from the saddle a Turkey-cock, which he afterwards approached as if he
had been trained to the sport, and enabled me to take it up without
dismounting.
As soon as I reached the house of Dr. Rankin, where I then resided, I
sent word to the owner of the horse that I should be glad to see him.
When he came, I asked him what price he would take; he said, fifty
dollars in silver was the lowest. So I paid the money, took a bill of
sale, and became master of the horse. The doctor, who was an excellent
judge, said smiling to me, "Mr. Audubon, when you are tired of him, I
will refund you the fifty dollars, for depend upon it he is a capital
horse." The mane was trimmed, but the tail left untouched; the doctor
had him shod "all round," and for several weeks he was ridden by my
wife, who was highly pleased with him.
Business requiring that I should go to Philadelphia, Barro (he was so
named after his former owner) was put up for ten days, and well tended.
The time of my departure having arrived, I mounted him, and set off at
the rate of four miles an hour--but here I must give you the line of my
journey, that you may, if you please, follow my course on some such map
as that of Tanner's. From Henderson through Russellville, Nashville, and
Knoxville, Abingdon in Virginia, the Natural Bridge, Harrisonburg,
Winchester, and Harper's Ferry, Frederick, and Lancaster, to
Philadelphia. There I remained four days, after which I returned by way
of Pittsburgh, Wheeling, Zanesville, Chillicothe, Lexington, and
Louisville, to Henderson. But the nature of my business was such as to
make me deviate considerably from the main roads, and I computed the
whole distance at nearly two thousand miles, the post roads being rather
more than sixteen hundred. I travelled not less than forty miles a day,
and it was allowed by the doctor that my horse was in as good condition
on my return as when I set out. Such a journey on a single horse may
seem somewhat marvellous in the eyes of a European; but in these days
almost every merchant had to perform the like, some from all parts of
the western country, even from St. Louis on the Missouri, although the
travellers not unfrequently, on their return, sold their horses at
Baltimore, Philadelphia, or Pittsburg, at which latter place they took
boat. My wife rode on a single horse from Henderson to Philadelphia,
travelling at the same rate. The country was then comparatively new; few
coaches travelled, and in fact the roads were scarcely fit for
carriages. About twenty days were considered necessary for performing a
journey on horseback from Louisville to Philadelphia, whereas now the
same distance may be travelled in six or seven days,[48] or even
sometimes less, this depending on the height of the water in the Ohio.
It may not be uninteresting to you to know the treatment which the horse
received on those journeys. I rose every morning before day, cleaned my
horse, pressed his back with my hand, to see if it had been galled, and
placed on it a small blanket folded double, in such a manner that when
the saddle was put on, half of the cloth was turned over it. The
surcingle, beneath which the saddlebags were placed, confined the
blanket to the seat, and to the pad behind was fastened the great coat
or cloak, tightly rolled up. The bridle had a snaffle bit; a
breast-plate was buckled in front to each skirt, to render the seat
secure during an ascent; but my horse required no crupper, his shoulders
being high and well-formed. On starting he trotted off at the rate of
four miles an hour, which he continued. I usually travelled from fifteen
to twenty miles before breakfast, and after the first hour allowed my
horse to drink as much as he would. When I halted for breakfast, I
generally stopped two hours, cleaned the horse, and gave him as much
corn-blades as he could eat. I then rode on until within half an hour of
sunset, when I watered him well, poured a bucket of cold water over his
back, had his skin well rubbed, his feet examined and cleaned. The rack
was filled with blades, the trough with corn, a good-sized pumpkin or
some hen's-eggs, whenever they could be procured, were thrown in, and if
oats were to be had, half a bushel of them was given in preference to
corn, which is apt to heat some horses. In the morning, the nearly empty
trough and rack afforded sufficient evidence of the state of his health.
I had not ridden him many days before he became so attached to me that
on coming to some limpid stream in which I had a mind to bathe, I could
leave him at liberty to graze, and he would not drink if told not to do
so. He was ever sure-footed, and in such continual good spirits that now
and then, when a Turkey happened to rise from a dusting-place before me,
the mere inclination of my body forward was enough to bring him to a
smart canter, which he would continue until the bird left the road for
the woods, when he never failed to resume his usual trot. On my way
homeward I met at the crossings of the Juniata River a gentleman from
New Orleans, whose name is Vincent Nolte.[49] He was mounted on a superb
horse, for which he had paid three hundred dollars, and a servant on
horseback led another as a change. I was then an utter stranger to him,
and as I approached and praised his horse, he not very courteously
observed that he wished I had as good a one. Finding that he was going
to Bedford to spend the night, I asked him at what hour he would get
there. "Just soon enough to have some trout ready for our supper,
provided you will join when you get there." I almost imagined that Barro
understood our conversation; he pricked up his ears, and lengthened his
pace, on which Mr. Nolte caracoled his horse, and then put him to a
quick trot; but all in vain, for I reached the hotel nearly a quarter of
an hour before him, ordered the trout, saw to the putting away of my
good horse, and stood at the door ready to welcome my companion. From
that day Vincent Nolte has been a friend to me. It was from him I
received letters of introduction to the Rathbones of Liverpool, for
which I shall ever be grateful to him. We rode together as far as
Shippingport, where my worthy friend Nicholas Berthoud, Esq., resided,
and on parting with me he repeated what he had many times said before,
that he never had seen so serviceable a creature as Barro.
If I recollect rightly, I gave a short verbal account of this journey,
and of the good qualities of my horse, to my learned friend J. Skinner,
Esq., of Baltimore, who, I believe, has noticed them in his excellent
Sporting Magazine. We agreed that the importation of horses of this kind
from the Western prairies might improve our breeds generally; and
judging from those which I have seen, I am inclined to think that some
of them may prove fit for the course. A few days after reaching
Henderson, I parted with Barro, not without regret, for a hundred and
twenty dollars.
BREAKING UP OF THE ICE
While proceeding up the Mississippi above its junction with the
Ohio,[50] I found to my great mortification that its navigation was
obstructed by ice. The chief conductor of my bark, who was a French
Canadian, was therefore desired to take us to a place suitable for
winter quarters, which he accordingly did, bringing us into a great bend
of the river called Tawapatee Bottom. The waters were unusually low, the
thermometer indicated excessive cold, the earth all around was covered
with snow, dark clouds were spread over the heavens, and as all
appearances were unfavorable to the hope of a speedy prosecution of our
voyage, we quietly set to work. Our bark, which was a large keel-boat,
was moored close to the shore, the cargo was conveyed to the woods,
large trees were felled over the water, and were so disposed as to keep
off the pressure of the floating masses of ice. In less than two days,
our stores, baggage, and ammunition were deposited in a great heap under
one of the magnificent trees of which the forest was here composed, our
sails were spread over all, and a complete camp was formed in the
wilderness. Everything around us seemed dreary and dismal, and had we
not been endowed with the faculty of deriving pleasure from the
examination of nature, we should have made up our minds to pass the time
in a state similar to that of Bears during their time of hibernation. We
soon found employment, however, for the woods were full of game; and
Deer, Turkeys, Raccoons, and Opossums might be seen even around our
camp; while on the ice that now covered the broad stream rested flocks
of Swans, to surprise which the hungry Wolves were at times seen to
make energetic but unsuccessful efforts. It was curious to see the
snow-white birds all lying flat on the ice, but keenly intent on
watching the motions of their insidious enemies, until the latter
advanced within the distance of a few hundred yards, when the Swans,
sounding their trumpet-notes of alarm, would all rise, spread out their
broad wings, and after running some yards and battering the ice until
the noise was echoed like thunder through the woods, rose exultingly
into the air, leaving their pursuers to devise other schemes for
gratifying their craving appetites.
The nights being extremely cold, we constantly kept up a large fire,
formed of the best wood. Fine trees of ash and hickory were felled, cut
up into logs of convenient size, and rolled into a pile, on the top of
which, with the aid of twigs, a fire was kindled. There were about
fifteen of us, some hunters, others trappers, and all more or less
accustomed to living in the woods. At night, when all had returned from
their hunting grounds, some successful and others empty-handed, they
presented a picture in the strong glare of the huge fire that
illuminated the forest, which it might prove interesting to you to see,
were it copied by a bold hand on canvas. Over a space of thirty yards or
more, the snow was scraped away, and piled up into a circular wall,
which protected us from the cold blast. Our cooking utensils formed no
mean display, and before a week had elapsed, Venison, Turkeys, and
Raccoons hung on the branches in profusion. Fish, too, and that of
excellent quality, often graced our board, having been obtained by
breaking holes in the ice of the lakes. It was observed that the
Opossums issued at night from holes in the banks of the river, to which
they returned about daybreak; and having thus discovered their retreat,
we captured many of them by means of snares.
At the end of a fortnight our bread failed, and two of the party were
directed to proceed across the bend, towards a village on the western
bank of the Mississippi, in quest of that commodity; for although we had
a kind of substitute for it in the dry white flesh of the breast of the
wild Turkey, bread is bread after all, and more indispensable to
civilized man than any other article of food. The expedition left the
camp early one morning; one of the party boasted much of his knowledge
of woods, while the other said nothing, but followed. They walked on all
day, and returned next morning to the camp with empty wallets. The next
attempt, however, succeeded, and they brought on a sledge a barrel of
flour, and some potatoes. After a while we were joined by many Indians,
the observation of whose manners afforded us much amusement.