An opening of about two acres in extent, of irregular semi-circular
shape, with the creek for its chord, and a worm-fence zig-zagging around
its arc--scarcely a clearing: since trees bleached and barkless stand
thickly over it; a log shanty, with clapboard roof, in the centre of the
concavity, flanked on one side by a rude horse-shed, on the other, by a
corn-crib of split rails; all three--shed, shanty, and crib--like the
tower of Pisa, threatening to tumble down; near the shanty, a wood-pile,
with an old axe lying upon the chop-block; by the shed and crib, a
litter of white "shucks" and "cobs;" in front, among the stumps and
girdled trees, a thin straggle of withered corn-stalks, shorn of their
leafy tops--some standing, some trampled down: such was the picture
before my eyes, as, with my horse, breast up against the fence, I looked
into the clearing of Squatter Holt!
"It must be the place--my place? there is no other clearing within a
mile? My directions have been given with exact minuteness of detail. I
have followed them to the letter: I cannot be mistaken: I have reached
Holt's Clearing at last."
I had ridden quite up to the fence, but could see no gate. A set of
bars, however, between two roughly mortised uprights, indicated an
entrance to the enclosure. The top bar was out. Not feeling inclined
to dismount, I sprang my horse _over_ the others; and then trotted
forward in front of the shanty. The door stood wide open. I had hopes
that the sound of my horse's hoof-stroke would have brought some one
into it; but no one came! Was there nobody within? I waited for a
minute or two, listening for some sign of life in the interior of the
cabin. No voice reached me--no sound of any one stirring! Perhaps the
cabin was empty! Not untenanted: since I could perceive the signs of
occupation, in some articles of rude furniture visible inside the
doorway. Perhaps the inmates had gone out for a moment, and might be in
the woods, near at hand?
I looked around the clearing, and over the fence into the forest beyond.
No one to be seen no one to be heard! Without the cabin, as within,
reigned a profound silence. Not a living thing in sight--save the black
vultures--a score of which, perched on the dead-woods overhead, and
fetid as their food, were infecting the air with their carrion odour.
Although within easy range of my rifle, the foul birds took no heed of
my movements; but sat still, indolently extending their broad wings to
the sun--now and then one coming, one going, in slow silent flight--
their very shadows seeming to flit lazily among the withered
maize-plants that covered the ground.
I had no desire to appear rude. I already regretted having leaped my
horse over the bars. Even that might be regarded as rather a brusque
method of approach to a private dwelling; but I was in hopes it would
not be noticed: since there appeared to be no one who had witnessed it.
I coughed and made other noises, with like unfruitful result. My
demonstrations were either not heard, or if heard, unheeded.
"Certainly," thought I, "if there be any one in the house, they must not
only hear, but _see me_:" for although there was no window, I could
perceive that the logs were but poorly "chinked;" and from within the
house, the whole clearing must have been in sight. Nay, more, the
interior itself was visible from without--at least the greater part of
it--and, while making this observation, I fancied I could trace the
outlines of a human figure through the interstices of the logs! I
became convinced it was a human figure; and furthermore, the figure of a
man. It was odd he had not heard me! Was he asleep? No: that could
not be--from the attitude in which he was. He appeared to be seated in
a chair, but with his body erect, and his head held aloft. In such
position, he could scarcely be asleep? After making this reflection, I
coughed again--louder than before; but to no better purpose! I thought
the figure moved. I was sure it moved; but as if with no intention of
stirring from the seat! "Cool indifference!" thought I--"what can the
fellow mean?" I grew impatient; and, feeling a little provoked by the
inexplicable somnolency of the owner of the cabin, I determined to try
whether my voice might not rouse him. "Ho! house, there!" I shouted,
though not loudly; "ho!--holloa!--any one within?" Again the figure
moved--but still stirred not from the seat! I repeated both my summons
and query--this time in still a louder and more commanding tone; and
this time I obtained a response.
"Who the hell _air_ you?" came a voice through the interstices of the
logs--a voice that more resembled the growl of a bear, than the
articulation of a human throat. "Who the hell air you?" repeated the
voice, while at the same time, I could perceive the figure rising from
the chair.
I made no answer to the rough query. I saw that my last summons had
been sufficient. I could hear the hewn floor-planks cracking under a
heavy boot; and knew from this, that my questioner was passing towards
the door. In another instant he stood in the doorway--his body filling
it from side to side--from head to stoop. A fearful-looking man was
before me. A man of gigantic stature, with a beard reaching to the
second button of his coat; and above it a face, not to be looked upon
without a sensation of terror: a countenance expressive of determined
courage, but, at the same time, of ferocity, untempered by any trace of
a softer emotion. A shaggy sand-coloured beard, slightly grizzled;
eyebrows like a _chevaux-de-frise_ of hogs' bristles; eyes of a
greenish-grey, with a broad livid scar across the left cheek, were
component parts in producing this expression; while a red cotton
kerchief, wound, turban-like, around the head, and, pulled low down in
front, rendered it more palpable and pronounced. A loose coat of thick
green blanket, somewhat faded and worn, added to the colossal appearance
of the man; while a red-flannel shirt served him also for a vest. His
large limbs were inserted in pantaloons of blue Kentucky _jeans_ cloth;
but these were scarcely visible, hidden by the skirt of the ample
blanket-coat that draped down below the tops of a pair of rough
horse-skin boots reaching above the knee, and into which the trousers
had been tucked. The face of the man was a singular picture; the
colossal stature rendered it more striking; the costume corresponded;
and all were in keeping with the rude manner of my reception.
It was idle to ask the question. From the description given me by the
young backwoodsman, I knew the man before me to be Hickman Holt the
squatter.