It was a sultry September afternoon in the year 18--. My friend Carleton
and myself had been three days wandering about the prairies, and had
nearly filled our tin boxes and other receptacles with specimens of rare
and curious plants. But we had not escaped paying the penalty of our
zeal as naturalists, in the shape of a perfect roasting from the sun,
which had shot down its rays during the whole time of our ramble, with
an ardour only to be appreciated by those who have visited the
Louisianian prairies. What made matters worse our little store of wine
had been early expended; some Taffia, with which we had replenished our
flasks, had also disappeared; and the water we met with, besides being
rare, contained so much vegetable and animal mater, as to be undrinkable
unless qualified in some manner. In this dilemma, we came to a halt
under a clump of hickory trees, and dispatched Martin, Carleton's
Acadian servant, upon a voyage of discovery. He had assured us that we
must erelong fall in with some party of Americans--or Cochon Yankees, as
he called them--who, in spite of the hatred borne them by the Acadians
and Creoles, were daily becoming more numerous in the country.
After waiting, in anxious expectation of Martin's return, for a full
hour, during which the air seemed to get more and more sultry, my
companion began to wax impatient. "What can the fellow be about?" cried
he. "Give a blast on the horn," he added, handing me the instrument; "I
cannot sound it myself, for my tongue cleaves to my palate from heat and
drought."
I put the horn to my mouth, and gave a blast. But the tones emitted were
not the clear echo-awakening sounds that cheer and strengthen the
hunter. They were dull and short, as though the air had lost all
elasticity and vibration, and by its weight crushed back the sounds into
the horn. It was a warning of some inscrutable danger. We gazed around
us, and saw that others were not wanting.
The spot where we had halted was on the edge of one of those pine
forests that extend, almost without interruption, from the hills of the
Côte Gelée to the Opelousa mountains, and of a vast prairie, sprinkled
here and there with palmetto fields, clumps of trees, and broad patches
of brushwood, which appeared mere dark specks on the immense extent of
plain that lay before us, covered with grass of the brightest green, and
so long, as to reach up to our horses' shoulders. To the right was a
plantation of palmettos, half a mile wide, and bounded by a sort of
creek or gully, the banks of which were covered with gigantic
cypress-trees. Beyond this, more prairie and a wood of evergreen oak. To
the east, an impenetrable thicket of magnolias, papaws, oak and bean
trees--to the north, the pine wood before mentioned.
Such was the rich landscape we had been surrounded by a short hour
before. But now, on looking around, we found the scene changed; and our
horizon became far more limited by rising clouds of bluish grey vapour,
which approached us rapidly from the wind quarter. Each moment this fog
appeared to become thicker; the sun no longer dazzled our eyes when we
gazed on it, but showed through the mist like a pale red moon; the
outlines of the forest disappeared, veiled from our sight by masses of
vapour; and the air, which, during the morning, had been light and
elastic, although hot, became each moment heavier and more difficult to
inhale. The part of the prairie that remained visible, presented the
appearance of a narrow, misty valley, enclosed between two mighty ranges
of grey mountains, which the fog represented. As we gazed around us and
beheld these strange phenomena, our eyes met, and we read in each others
countenance that embarrassment which the bravest and most light-hearted
are apt to feel, when hemmed in by perils of which they cannot
conjecture the nature.
"Fire off your gun," said I to Carleton. I started as I spoke at the
alteration in my own voice. The gun went off, but the report was, as it
were, stifled by the compressed atmosphere. It did not even alarm some
water-fowl that were plashing and floundering in the creek a few hundred
paces from us.
"Look at our horses!" exclaimed Carleton. "They are surely going mad."
The animals were evidently uneasy at something. They pricked up their
ears, turned half round, and gazed with startled eye behind them; then
strained with their heads and necks in the opposite direction to the
vapour, snorting violently, and at last trying to break away from the
trees to which they were tied. A short time previously they had appeared
much fatigued, but now they were all fire and impatience.
"It is impossible to remain here," said Carleton.
"But whither shall we go?"
"Wherever our horses choose to take us."
We untied the animals and sprang upon them. But scarcely were we in the
saddle when they started off at a pace as frantic as if a pack of wolves
had been at their heels; and taking the direction of the creek, which
ran between the palmetto plantation and a cypress wood, continued along
its banks at the same wild gallop. As we advanced, the creek began to
widen; in place of palmettos, clumps of marsh reeds, and rushes showed
themselves here and there. An unearthly stillness prevailed, only broken
now and then by the cry of a wild-goose; and even that appeared strange
and unnatural in its sound.
"What can be the meaning of this?" cried Carleton. "I am burning with
heat, and yet I have not the slightest moisture on my skin. All these
signs are incomprehensible. For God's sake, sound the horn again."
I did so, but this time the sound seemed to be forced back through the
horn, and to die away upon my lips. The air was so hot and parching,
that our horses' coats, which a short time previous had been dripping
with sweat, were now perfectly dry, and the hair plastered upon them;
the animals' tongues hung out of their mouths, and they seemed panting
for cooler air. "Look yonder!" cried Carleton, and he pointed to the
line of the horizon, which had hitherto been of grey, lead-coloured
vapour. It was now becoming reddish in the south-west quarter, and the
vapour had taken the appearance of smoke. At the same time we heard a
sort of distant crackling, like a heavy running-fire of musketry, and
which was repeated at short intervals. Each time it was heard, our
horses appeared scared and trembling.
The creek was getting rapidly wider, and the ground so swampy that it
was impossible to proceed further. Seeing this, we agreed to return to
the prairie, and to try if it were not cooler among the palmettos. But
when we came to the place where we had crossed the creek, our horses
refused to take the leap again, and it was with the greatest difficulty
we at length forced them over. All this time the redness in the horizon
was getting brighter, and the atmosphere hotter and drier; the smoke had
spread itself over prairie, forest, and plantations. We continued
retracing our steps as well as we could to the spot where we had halted.
"See there," said Carleton; "not half an hour ago those reeds were as
fresh and green as if they had just sprung out of the earth, and now
look at them--the leaves are hanging down, parched and curled up by the
heat."
The whole prairie, the whole horizon to the south-west, was now one mass
of dense smoke, through which the sun's disc looked scarcely brighter
than a paper-lantern. Behind the thick curtain which thus concealed
every thing from our view, we heard a loud hissing, like that of a
multitude of snakes. The smoke was stifling and unbearable; our horses
again turned panting round, and tore madly towards the creek. On
reaching it we dismounted, but had the greatest difficulty to prevent
them from leaping into the water. The streaks of red to our right became
brighter and brighter, and gleamed through the huge, dark trunks of the
cypress-trees. The crackling and hissing grew louder than ever. Suddenly
the frightful truth flashed upon us, and at the very same moment
Carleton and I exclaimed, "The prairie is on fire!"
As we uttered the words, there was a loud rustling behind us, and a herd
of deer broke headlong through a thicket of tall reeds and bulrushes,
and dashed up to their necks into the water. There they remained, not
fifty paces from us, little more than their heads above the surface,
gazing at us, as though imploring our help and compassion. We fancied we
could see tears in the poor beasts' eyes.
We looked behind us. On came the pillars of flame, flickering and
threatening through the smoke, licking up all before them; and, at
times, a gust of so hot and blasting a wind as seemed to dry the very
marrow in our bones. The roaring of the fire was now distinctly audible,
mingled with hissing, whistling sounds, and cracking noises, as of
mighty trees falling. Suddenly a bright flame shot up through the
stifling smoke, and immediately afterwards a sea of fire burst upon our
aching eyeballs. The whole palmetto field was in flames.
The heat was so great, that we every moment expected to see our clothes
take fire. Our horses dragged us still nearer to the creek, sprang into
the water, and drew us down the bank after them. Another rustling and
noise in the thicket of reeds. A she-bear, with her cubs at her heels,
came towards us; and at the same time a second herd of deer rushed into
the water not twenty yards from where we were standing. We pointed our
guns at the bears; they moved off towards the deer, who remained
undisturbed at their approach; and there they stood, bears and deer, not
five paces apart, but taking no more notice of each other than if they
had been animals of the same species. More beasts now came flocking to
the river. Deer, wolves, foxes, horses--all came in crowds to seek
shelter in one element from the fury of another. Most of them, however,
went further up the creek, where it took a north-easterly direction, and
widened into a sort of lake. Those that had first arrived began to
follow the new-comers, and we did the same.
Suddenly the baying of hounds was heard. "Hurra! there are dogs; men
must be near." A volley from a dozen rifles was the answer to our
explanation. The shots were fired not two hundred yards from us, yet we
saw nothing of the persons who fired them. The wild beasts around us
trembled and crouched before this new danger, but did not attempt to
move a step. We ourselves were standing in the midst of them up to our
waists in water. "Who goes there?" we shouted. Another volley, and this
time not one hundred yards off. We saw the flashes of the pieces, and
heard voices talking in a dialect compounded of French and Indian. We
perceived that we had to do with Acadians. A third volley, and the
bullets whistled about our ears. It was getting past a joke. "Halt!"
shouted we, "stop firing till you see what you are firing at." There was
a dead silence for a moment, then a burst of savage laughter. "Fire!
fire!" cried two or three voices.
"If you fire," cried I, "look out for yourselves, for we shall do the
same. Have a care what you are about."
"Morbleu! Sacre!" roared half a score of voices. "Who is that who dares
to give us orders? Fire on the dogs!"
"If you do, we return it."
"Sacre!" screamed the savages. "They are gentlemen from the towns. Their
speech betrays them. Shoot them--the dogs, the spies! What do they want
in the prairie?"
"Your blood be on your own heads," cried I. And, with the feelings of
desperate men, we levelled our guns in the direction in which we had
seen the flashes of the last volley. At that moment--"Halt! What is
here?" shouted a stentorian voice close to us.
"Stop firing, or you are dead men," cried five or six other voices.
"_Sacre! ce sont des Americains_," muttered the Acadians.
"Monsieur Carleton!" cried a voice.
"Here!" replied my friend. A boat shot out of the smoke, between us and
our antagonists. Carleton's servant was in it. The next moment we were
surrounded by a score of Acadians and half-a-dozen Americans.
It appeared that the Acadians, so soon as they perceived the prairie to
be on fire, had got into boat and descended a creek that flowed into the
Chicot creek, on which we now were. The beasts of the forest and
prairie, flying to the water, found themselves inclosed in the angle
formed by the two creeks, and their retreat being cut off by the fire,
they fell an easy prey to the Acadians, wild, half savage fellows, who
slaughtered them in a profusion and with a brutality that excited our
disgust, a feeling which the Americans seemed to share.
"Well, stranger!" said one of the latter, an old man, to Carleton, "do
you go with them Acadians or come with us?"
"Who are you, my friends?"
"Friends!" repeated the Yankee, shaking his head, "your friendships are
soon made. Friends, indeed! We ain't that yet; but if you be minded to
come with us, well and good."
"I met these American gentlemen," now put in Martin, "and when they
heard that you had lost your way, and were out of provisions, they were
so good as to come and seek you."
"You be'n't much used to the prairie, I reckon?" observed the American
who had spoken before.
"No, indeed, my friend," said I.
"I told you a'ready," replied the man with some degree of pride, "we
ain't your friends; but if you choose to accept American hospitality,
you're welcome."
We glanced at the Acadians, who were still firing, and dragging the
beasts they slaughtered into their boat and to the shore. They appeared
perfect savages, and there was little temptation to seek guidance or
assistance at their hands.
"If it is agreeable to you, we will accompany you," said I to the
American, making a step towards the boat. We were eager to be off, for
the heat and smoke were unbearable. The Yankee answered neither yes nor
no. His attention seemed taken up by the proceedings of the Acadians.
"They're worse than Injuns," said he to a young man standing by him.
"They shoot more in an hour than they could eat in a year in their
tarnation French wastefulness."
"I've a notion o' makin' 'em leave off," replied the young man.
"The country's theirs, or their masters' at least," rejoined the other.
"I reckon it's no business of ours."
This dialogue was carried on with the greatest possible degree of
drawling deliberation, and under circumstances in which, certainly, none
but a Yankee would have thought of wasting time in words. A prairie
twenty miles long and ten broad, and a couple of miles of palmetto
ground, all in a blaze--the flames drawing nearer every minute, and
having, in some places, already reached up to the shores of the creek.
On the other side a couple of dozen wild Acadians firing right and left,
without paying the least attention where or whom their bullets struck.
Carelton and myself, up to our waists in water, and the Americans,
chatting together as unconcernedly as if they had been sitting under the
roofs of their own blockhouses.
"Do you live far from here?" said I at last to the Yankee, rather
impatiently.
"Not so far as I sometimes wish," answered he, with a contemptuous
glance at the Acadians, "but far enough to get you an appetite for your
supper, if you ain't got one already." And taking a thin roll of tobacco
out of his pocket, he bit off a piece of it, laid his hands upon the
muzzle of his rifle, leant his chin upon his hands, and seemed to have
forgotten all about us.
This apathy became intolerable to men in our situation.
"My good man," said I, "will you put your hospitable offer into
execution, and take----"
I could not continue, for I was literally suffocated with the heat and
smoke. The very water of the creek was getting warm.
"I've a notion," said the yankee, with his usual drawl, and apparently
only just perceiving our distress, "I've a notion we had better be
movin' out o' the way o' the fire. Now, strangers, in with you." And he
helped Carleton and myself into the boat, where we lay down, and became
insensible from heat and exhaustion.
When we recovered our senses, we found ourselves in the bottom of the
boat, and the old Yankee standing by us with a bottle of whisky in his
hand, which he invited us to taste. We felt better for the cordial, and
began to look around us.
Before us lay an apparently interminable cypress swamp, behind us a
sheet of water, formed by the junction of the two creeks, and at present
overhung by a mass of smoke that concealed the horizon from our view.
From time to time there was a burst of flame that lit up the swamp, and
caused the cypress-trees to appear as if they grew out of a sea of fire.
"Come," said the old Yankee, "we must get on. It is near sunset, and we
have far to go."
"And which way does our road lie?" I asked.
"Across the cypress swamp, unless you'd rather go round it."
"The shortest road is the best," said Carleton.
"The shortest road is the best!" repeated the Yankee contemptuously, and
turning to his companions. "Spoken like a Britisher. Well, he shall have
his own way, and the more so as I believe it to be as good a one as the
other. James," added he, turning to one of the men, "you go further
down, through the Snapping Turtle swamp; we will cross here."
"And our horses?" said I.
"They are grazing in the rushes. They'll be took care of. We shall have
rain to-night, and to-morrow they may come round without singeing a
hoof."
I had found myself once or twice upon the borders of the swamp that now
lay before us but had always considered it impenetrable, and I did not
understand, as I gazed into its gloomy depths, how we could possibly
cross it.
"Is there any beaten path or road through the swamp?" enquired I of the
old man.
"Path or road! Do you take it for a gentleman's park? There's the path
that natur' has made." And he sprang upon the trunk of a tree covered
with moss and creepers, which rose out of the vast depth of mud that
formed the swamp.
"_Here's_ the path," said he.
"Then we will wait and come round with our horses," I replied. "Where
shall we find them?"
"As you please, stranger. _We_ shall cross the swamp. Only, if you can't
do like your horses, and sup off bulrushes, you are likely to fast for
the next twenty-four hours.
"And why so? There is game and wild-fowl for the shooting."
"No doubt there is, if you can eat them raw, like the Injuns. Where will
you find, within two miles round, a square foot of dry land to make your
fire on?"
To say the truth, we did not altogether like the company we had fallen
amongst. These Yankee squatters bore in general but an indifferent
character. They were said to fear neither God nor man, to trust entirely
to their axe and their rifle, and to be little scrupulous in questions
of property; in short, to be scarce less wild and dangerous than the
Indians themselves.
The Yankee who had hitherto acted as spokesman, and who seemed to be in
some way or other the chief of the party, was a man apparently near
sixty years of age, upwards of six feet high, thin in person, but with
such bone and muscle as indicated great strength in the possessor. His
features were keen and sharp; his eye like a falcon's; his bearing and
manners bespoke an exalted opinion of himself, and (at least as far as
we were concerned) a tolerable degree of contempt for others. His dress
consisted of a jacket of skins, secured round the waist by a girdle, in
which was stuck a long knife; leather breeches, a straw hat without a
brim, and mocassins. His companion was similarly accoutred.
"Where is Martin?" cried Carleton.
"Do you mean the Acadian lad who brought us to you?"
"The same."
The Yankee pointed towards the smoke. "Yonder, no doubt, with his
countrymen; but I reckon their infernal hunt is over. I hear no more
shots."
"Then we will go to him. But where are our horses?"
"I've a notion," said one of the younger men, "the stranger don't
rightly know what he wants. Your horses are grazing half a mile off. You
would not have had us make the poor beasts swim through the creek tied
to the stern of the boat? 'Lijah is with them."
"And what will he do with them?"
"Joel is going back with the boat, and when the fire is out he will
bring them round," said the elder Yankee. "You don't suppose--?" added
he----He left the sentence unfinished, but a smile of scornful meaning
flitted over his features.
I looked at Carleton. He nodded. "We _will_ go with you," said I, "and
trust entirely to your guidance."
"You do well," was the brief reply. "Joel," added he, turning to one of
the young men, "where are the torches? We shall want them?"
"Torches!" exclaimed I.
The Yankee gave me a look, as much as to say--You must meddle with every
thing. "Yes," replied he; "and, if you had ten lives, it would be as
much as they are all worth to enter this swamp without torches." So
saying, he struck fire, and selecting a couple of pine splinters from
several lying in the boat, he lighted them, doing every thing with such
extraordinary deliberation, and so oddly, that in spite of our
unpleasant situation we could scarce help laughing. Meantime the boat
pushed off with two men in it, leaving Carleton, myself, the old man,
and another American, standing at the edge of the swamp.
"Follow me, step by step, and as if you were treading on eggs," said our
leader; "and you, Jonathan, have an eye to the strangers, and don't wait
till they are up to their necks in the mud to pick them out of it."
We did not feel much comforted by this speech; but, mustering all our
courage, we strode on after our plain-spoken guide.
We had proceeded but a very short distance into the swamp before we
found out the use of the torches. The huge trunks of the cypress-trees,
which stood four or five yards asunder, shot up to a height of fifty
feet, entirely free from branches, which then, however, spread out at
right angles to the stem, making the trees appear like gigantic
umbrellas, and covering the whole morass with an impenetrable roof,
through which not even a sunbeam could find a passage. On looking behind
us, we saw the daylight at the entrance of the swamp, as at the mouth of
a vast cavern. The further we went the thicker became the air; and at
last the effluvia was so stifling and pestilential, that the torches
burnt pale and dim, and more than once threatened to go out.
"Yes, yes," muttered our guide to himself, "a night passed in this swamp
would leave a man ague-struck for the rest of his days. A night--ay, an
hour would do it, if your pores were ever so little open; but now
there's no danger; the prairie fire's good for that, dries the sweat and
closes the pores."
He went on conversing thus with himself, but still striding forward,
throwing his torchlight on each log or tree trunk, and trying its
solidity with his foot before he trusted his weight upon it--doing all
this with a dexterity and speed that proved his familiarity with these
dangerous paths.
"Keep close to me," said he to us, "but make yourselves light--as light
at least as Britishers can make themselves. Hold your breath, and----ha!
what is that log? Hollo, Nathan," continued he to himself, "what's come
to you, man? Don't you know a sixteen foot alligator from a tree?"
He had stretched out his foot, but fortunately, before setting it down,
he poked what he took for a log with the butt of his gun. The supposed
block of wood gave way a little, and the old squatter, throwing himself
back, was within an ace of pushing me into the swamp.
"Ah, friend!" said he, not in the least disconcerted, "you thought to
sacumvent honest folk with your devilry and cunning."
"What is the matter?" asked I.
"Not much the matter," he replied, drawing his knife from its sheath.
"Only an alligator: there it is again."
And in the place of the log, which had disappeared, the jaws of a huge
alligator gaped before us. I raised my gun to my shoulder. The Yankee
seized my arm.
"Don't fire," whispered he. "Don't fire, so long as you can help it. We
ain't alone here. This will do as well," he added, as he stooped down,
and drove his long knife into the alligator's eye. The monster gave a
frightful howl, and lashed violently with its tail, besprinkling us with
the black slimy mud of the swamp.
"Take that!" said the squatter with a grim smile, "and that, and that!"
stabbing the brute repeatedly between the neck and the ribs, while it
writhed and snapped furiously at him. Then wiping his knife, he stuck it
in his belt, and looked keenly and cautiously around him.
"I've a notion there must be a tree trunk hereaway; it ain't the first
time I've followed this track. There it is, but a good six foot off."
And so saying, he gave a spring, and alighted in safety on the stepping
place.
"Have a care, man," cried I. "There is water there. I see it glitter."
"Pho, water! What you call water is snakes. Come on."
I hesitated, and a shudder came over me. The leap, as regarded distance,
was a trifling one, but it was over an almost bottomless chasm, full of
the foulest mud, on which the mocassin snakes, the deadliest of the
American reptiles, were swarming.
"Come on!"
Necessity lent me strength, and, pressing my left foot firmly against
the log on which I was standing, and which was each moment sinking with
our weight deeper into the soft slimy ground, I sprang across. Carleton
followed me.
"Well done!" cried the old man. "Courage, and a couple more such leaps,
and we shall be getting over the worst of it."
We pushed on, steadily but slowly, never setting our foot on a log till
we had ascertained its solidity with the butts of our guns. The cypress
swamp extended four or five miles along the shores of the creek: it was
a deep lake of black mud, covered over and disguised by a deceitful
bright green veil of creeping plants and mosses, which had spread
themselves in their rank luxuriance over its whole surface, and over the
branches and trunks of trees scattered about the swamp. These latter
were not placed with any very great regularity, but had yet been
evidently arranged by the hand of man.
"There seems to have been a sort of path made here," said I to our
guide, "for"----
"Silence!" interrupted he, in a low tone; "silence, for your life, till
we are on firm ground again. Don't mind the snakes," added he, as the
torchlight revealed some enormous ones lying coiled up on the moss and
lianas close to us. "Follow me closely."
But just as I stretched forward my foot, and was about to place it in
the very print that his had left, the hideous jaw of an alligator was
suddenly stretched over the tree-trunk, not six inches from my leg, and
the creature snapped at me so suddenly, that I had but just time to fire
my gun into his glittering lizard-like eye. The monster bounded back,
uttered a sound between a bellow and a groan, and, striking wildly about
him in the morass, disappeared.
The American looked round when I fired, and an approving smile played
about his mouth as he said something to me which I did not hear, owing
to the infernal uproar that now arose on all sides of us and at first
completely deafened me.
Thousands, tens of thousands, of birds and reptiles, alligators,
enormous bull-frogs, night-owls, ahingas, herons, whose dwellings were
in the mud of the swamp, or on its leafy roof, now lifted up their
voices, bellowing, hooting, shrieking, and groaning. Bursting forth from
the obscene retreat in which they had hitherto lain hidden, the
alligators raised their hideous snouts out of the green coating of the
swamp, gnashing their teeth, and straining towards us, while the owls
and other birds circled round our heads, flapping and striking us with
their wings as they passed. We drew our knives, and endeavoured to
defend at least our heads and eyes; but all was in vain against the
myriads of enemies that surrounded us; and the unequal combat could not
possibly have lasted long, when suddenly a shot was fired, followed
immediately by another. The effect they produced was magical. The growls
and cries of rage and fury were exchanged for howls of fear and
complaint; the alligators withdrew gradually into their native mud; the
birds flew in wider circles around us; the unclean multitudes were in
full retreat. By degrees the various noises died away. But our torches
had gone out, and all around us was black as pitch.
"In God's name, are you there, old man?" asked I.
"What! still alive?" he replied with a laugh that jarred unpleasantly
upon my nerves, "and the other Britisher too? I told ye we were not
alone. These brutes defend themselves if you attack them upon their own
ground, and a single shot is sufficient to bring them about one's ears.
But when they see you're in earnest, they soon get tired of it, and a
couple more shots sent among them generally drive them away again; for
they are but senseless squealin' creturs after all."
While the old man was speaking, he struck fire, and lit one of the
torches.
"Luckily we have rather better footing here," continued he. "And now,
forward quickly; for the sun is set, and we have still some way to go."
And again he led the march with a skill and confidence in himself which
each moment increased our reliance on him. After proceeding in this
manner for about half an hour, we saw a pale light glimmering in the
distance.
"Five minutes more and your troubles are over; but now is the time to be
cautious, for it is on the borders of these cursed swamps the alligators
best love to lie."
In my eagerness to find myself once more on dry land, I scarcely heard
the Yankee's words; and as the stepping places were now near together, I
hastened on, and got a little in front of the party. Suddenly I felt a
log on which I had just placed my foot, give way under me. I had
scarcely time to call out "Halt!" when I was up to the arm-pits in the
swamp, with every prospect of sinking still deeper.
"You _will_ hurry on," said the old man with a laugh; and at the same
time, springing forward, he caught me by the hair. "Take warning for the
future," added he, as he helped me out of the mud; "and look there!"
I did look, and saw half a dozen alligators writhing and crawling in the
noxious slime within a few feet of us. I felt a sickening sensation, and
for a moment I could not utter a word: the Yankee produced his
whisky-flask.
"Take a swallow of this," said he; "but no, better wait till we are out
of the swamp. Stop a little till your heart beats quieter. So, you are
better now. When you've made two or three such journeys with old Nathan,
you'll be quite another man. Now--forward again."
A few minutes later we were out of the swamp, and looking over a field
of palmettos that waved and rustled in the moonbeams. The air was fresh,
and once more we breathed freely.
"Now then," said our guide, "a dram, and then in half an hour we are at
the Salt Lick."
"Where?" asked I.
"At the Salt Lick, to shoot a deer or two for supper. Hallo! what is
that?"
"A thunderclap."
"A thunderclap! You have heard but few of them in Louisiana, I guess, or
you would know the difference betwixt thunder and the crack of a
backwoodsman's rifle. To be sure, yonder oak wood has an almighty echo.
That's James's rifle--he has shot a stag.--There's another shot."
This time it was evidently a rifle-shot, but re-echoed like thunder from
the depths of the immense forest.
"We must let them know that we're still in whole skins, and not in the
maw of an alligator," said the old man, who had been loading his rifle,
and now fired it off.
In half an hour we were at the Salt Lick, where we found our guide's two
sons busy disembowelling and cutting up a fine buck that they had
killed, an occupation in which they were so engrossed that they scarce
seemed to notice our arrival. We sat down, not a little glad to repose
after the fatigues and dangers we had gone through. When hind and fore
quarters, breast and back, were all divided in right huntsman-like
style, the young men looked at their father. "Will you take a bite and a
sup here?" said the latter, addressing Carleton and myself, "or will you
wait till we get home?"
"How far is there still to go?"
"How far? With a good trotting horse, and a better road, three quarters
of an hour would bring you there. You may reckon it a couple of hours."
"Then we would prefer eating something here."
"As you will."
Without more words, or loss of time, a haunch was cut off one of the
hind-quarters; dry leaves and branches collected; and in one minute a
fire was blazing brightly, the joint turning before it on a wooden spit.
In half an hour the party was collected round a roast haunch of venison,
which, although eaten without bread or any of the usual condiments,
certainly appeared to us to be the very best we had ever tasted.
* * * * *