Transcriber’s Notes:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
* * * * *
[Illustration: PIONEERS.]
The Squirrel Hunters of Ohio
or Glimpses of Pioneer Life
by N. E. JONES, M. D.
[Illustration]
Cincinnati.
⁂ THE ROBERT CLARKE Co ⁂
1898
* * * * *
COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY N. E. JONES.
PREFACE.
It required long trains of complex circumstances, and peculiar
conditions for each, to give to the world a Moses, an Alexander, a
Napoleon, a Washington. Still greater were the pre-arrangements and
preparations for the development of the coming man of the Nineteenth
Century, that he might stand pre-eminently upon the summit of American
manhood. The habitation selected was the most elaborate and lovely
of all the gifts of nature: A domain dedicated to freedom forever,
bountifully supplied with animals, vegetables, and minerals; with
lakes, rivers, and running brooks, grassy lawns and fields of flowers;
making a fitting place for the best blood left of the American
Revolution; descendants of Anglo-Saxon kings; knights of Norman titles
and heroic deeds; supporters of William the Conqueror, whose ancestral
names appear in the Doomsday Book, but more imperishably written in the
law of descent and transmission. With such the new environment brought
forth an improved species, christened by a sovereign state, “_The
Squirrel Hunters of Ohio; or, Glimpses of Pioneer Life_,” and to whom
this volume is most respectfully dedicated.
N. E. JONES, M. D.
INTRODUCTION.
As an actor and interested witness of the marvelous changes which
have occurred in the settlement and civilization of the “North-west
Territory,” the author places before the reader this book, entitled,
“_The Squirrel Hunters of Ohio; or, Glimpses of Pioneer Life_.”
Others have faithfully recorded the wars, bloodshed, victories,
defeats, dangers and deaths it cost to subjugate the savage and
establish the civilized. And it is as the gleaner follows the reapers
and gathers in the wayward straws, that the author hopes to interest
and entertain, by picking up some of the fragments, that nothing may
be lost which contributed to the elevation, pleasure, subsistence and
safety of the pioneer, or added attractiveness to his home during the
rise of the first state in the great empire of the North-west.
It is often the little things that become the most important--things
the immigrant in old age delights to recall--things that bring up
associations and pleasures of former days--“the good old times,”
when with dog and gun the pioneer walked the unbroken forest and made
himself familiar with the alphabet of beasts, birds and trees.
At the close of the Revolution, the Eastern States were old and
prematurely gray, and poverty, bankruptcy and starvation induced the
patriotic soldiers to accept pay for their services in unsurveyed wild
land in the “North-west Territory.” The new acquisition was lauded
as a country flowing with equivalents to “milk and honey,” and would
sustain a large population, make delightful homes, and furnish an
easily-acquired subsistence.
As soon as the Indian dangers were no longer detrimental, the homeless
poor, with guns, ammunition and land certificates, flocked in from all
quarters of the world, took possession of the country, and became the
progenitors of a great and pre-eminent people--“_The Squirrel Hunters
of Ohio_.”
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAP. I. OHIO--EARLY SETTLEMENT, 1
II. OHIO--EDUCATIONAL, SOCIAL, AND POLITICAL, 51
III. OHIO--PROFESSIONS: MEDICAL, MINISTERIAL AND LEGAL, 107
IV. OHIO--HER BEASTS, BIRDS, AND TREES: AIDS TO HIGHER
CIVILIZATION, 166
V. OHIO--HER COACH, CANAL, AND STEAMBOAT ERA, 267
VI. OHIO--HER RAILROAD AND TELEGRAPH ERA, 310
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
FRONTISPIECE.
Home of the Pioneer, 7
This is Freedom! 9
The Gum Tree, 12
Stray Pup, 30
Gamer, 33
Our Cabin, 1821, 37
Ground Hog Club--Certificate of Membership, 58
Ohio School-house from 1796 to 1840, 64
School-house of 1851, in which President Garfield Taught, 92
The Olive Branch, 95
Hunter and Dog, 118
Man of Special Providences, 128
Church, Residence, and Court-house, 131
Public School Building, Pickaway County, O., 1851, 148
A Squirrel Hunter, 171
A Herd of Bison, 174
Camp Red River Hunters, 176
Turkey River, Iowa, 1845, 221
Sequoia Park, 235
Conflict in Pre-emption Claims, 250
Chillicothe Elm, 252
Logan Elm, 253
Map--Lord Dunmore’s Campaign, 256
Monument, Boggs Family, 263
Indian Raid, 264
Spinning Wheel, 275
Canal Era, 1825, 290
Log Cabin Luminary, 292
Ohio Stage Coach, 301
Prairie Schooner, 306
New Passenger Car on the Toledo and Adrian R’y, 1837, 320
Pontoon Bridge over the Ohio River, 337
Governor’s Certificate of Honorable Membership, 343
The Squirrel Hunter’s Discharge, 344
Draft Wheel, 349
* * * * *
THE SQUIRREL HUNTERS OF OHIO; OR, GLIMPSES OF PIONEER LIFE.
CHAPTER I. OHIO--EARLY SETTLEMENTS.
From the time the Mayflower landed at Fort Harmar (Marietta) in 1788
until 1795, emigration had not materially increased the population of
the North-west, owing to the unstable and dissatisfied condition of the
Indians.
All this time, the soldier, who had served his time in the cause
of independence and been honorably discharged without pay:--the
poverty-stricken patriot, unable to procure subsistence for himself and
family in the bankrupt colonies, had been listening to accounts of a
land “flowing with milk and honey,” and was anxious to get there. It
was described as a country “fertile as heart could wish:”--“fair to
look upon, and fragrant with the thousand fresh odors of the woods in
early spring.” The long cool aisles leading away into mazes of vernal
green where the swift deer bounded by unmolested and as yet unscared
by the sound of the woodman’s ax or the sharp ring of the rifle. “He
could imagine the wooded slopes and the tall grass of the plain jeweled
with strange and brilliant flowers;” but there the redman had his field
of corn, and would defend his rights.
The success of General Wayne in procuring terms of peace with the
warlike tribes of Indians in the spring of 1795, caused such an influx
of emigration into the Ohio division of the North-west Territory, that
in 1798 the population enabled the election of an Assembly which met
the following year, and sent William Henry Harrison as a delegate to
Congress. So rapidly did the country fill up with new settlements that
the prospective state at the beginning of the nineteenth century was
knocking at the door for admission, with all the pathways crowded by
pedestrians--men, women, and children--dogs and guns; crossing the
perilous mountains to reach a country where a home was a matter of
choice, and subsistence furnished without money or price.
Where all these lovers of freedom and free soil came from, and how they
got here, will ever remain a mystery next in obscurity to that of the
Ancient Mound Builders. They brought with them the peculiarities of
every civilized nation, and continued to come until Ohio became the
beaten road to western homes beyond. They were God’s homeless poor--the
file of a successful revolution--the founders of a republic. As such
they accepted pay and bounty in wild lands--established homes of
civilization, cultivated the arts and sciences, and soon increased in
numbers, until they became a people powerful in war and influential in
peace.
Men and women, the chosen best, of the entire world, by causes
foreordained, were made the exponents of the axioms contained in the
charter founding the great empire of freedom. They were strangers to
luxury--unknown to the corroding influences of avarice, and unfamiliar
with national vices. Their lives were surrounded with happiness, and
they lived to a good old age, enjoying the pleasures of large families
of children in a land of peace and plenty. These and their descendants
are the “Squirrel Hunters” of history.
Kentucky had received her baptism into the Union in 1791, but
afterward felt slighted and dissatisfied, looking toward secession,
if the five proposed states, outlined by the act of 1787 as the
North-west Territory, should constitute an independent confederacy.
The opinion seemed to exist to no small extent, that the North-west
was by necessity bound to become separated from the Atlantic States;
and Kentucky was lending her influence to this end. Josiah Espy, in
his “Tour in Ohio and Indiana in 1805,” says: “In traveling through
this immense and beautiful country, one idea, mingled with melancholy
emotions, almost continually presented itself to my mind, which was
this: that before many years the people of that great tract of country
would separate themselves from the Atlantic States, and establish an
independent empire. The peculiar situation of the country, and the
nature of the men, will gradually lead to this crisis; but what will
be the proximate cause producing this great effect is yet in the womb
of time. Perhaps some of us may live to see it. When the inhabitants
of that immense territory will themselves independent, force from the
Atlantic States to restrain them would be madness and folly. It can not
be prevented.”
But the inhabitants of this immense territory had a better and clearer
vision of the mission of this “vast empire;” it was to be the heart
and controlling center of a great nation of freemen. And when Ohio, in
1803, entered the Union under the enabling act, binding the Government
to construct a national highway from Cumberland to the Ohio river, and
through the State of Ohio, as a bond of union between the East and
West, no more was heard of secession until the rebellion of the sixties.
In 1821, a member of the Virginia legislature (Mr. Blackburn), in
discussing the question of secession, claimed there ought to be an
eleventh commandment, and taking a political view of it, said it should
be in these words: “Thou shalt not, nor shall thy wife, thy son or
thy daughter, thy man-servant or thy maid-servant, the stranger or
sojourner within thy gates, dare in any wise to mention or hint at
dissolution of the Union.” Mr. Blackburn did not live to see it, but
the words of the commandment came sealed in blood and “were graven with
an iron pen and lead in the rock forever.”
Many persons at the very dawn of independence felt the weakness of a
union of such conflicting sentiments and interests as those of freedom
and slavery, and were free in the expression that either slavery or
freedom must rule and control the destinies of the nation--that the two
could not, nor would not, co-operate peaceably in the same field.
Francis A. Walker, in “Making of the Nation,” says: “No one can
rightly read the history of the United States who does not recognize
the prodigious influence exerted in the direction of unreserving
nationality by the growth of great communities beyond the mountains
and their successive admission as states of the Union.” And the author
apprehends “_great danger_” from the aversion of Western people to
“measures proposed in the interests of financial integrity, commercial
credit and national honor. ‘Having a predilection for loose laws
regarding bankruptcies and cheap money has been a constant menace and a
frequent cause of mischief.’ This, however, we may regard as due to the
stage of settlement and civilization reached.”
No one, if he reads at all, can read otherwise than the “prodigious
influence” of the Western States. To these the nation owes its
freedom. Through this prodigious influence, slaves and slavery have
been wiped out, national finance established with enlarged commercial
credit, integrity and national honor. And if the history of the United
States is correctly read, the country need fear no _danger_ from any
_stage_ in the settlement and civilization of the North-west. The
early pioneers of this lovely country brought with them from the
South and East large stocks of patriotism perfumed with the firearms
of a successful revolution; and it was prized more highly as it was
chiefly all they had in a home where poverty was no disgrace, and
a “poor-house” unknown in nature’s great empire. Their descendants
inherited much, and increased their talents, and have under all
circumstances been ready to render a favorable account and go up higher.
The residence of the immigrant was exceedingly primitive; still, it
could not be said the log cabin of the pioneer made a cheerless home,
by any means. Man retains too much of the unevolutionized not to find
and enjoy the most pleasure in things nearest the heart of nature.
Many pointers and pen pictures originating in these humble domiciles
exist in evidence of the pleasure and satisfaction enjoyed by the early
inhabitants, regardless of apparent privations, previous conditions or
existing numbers.
Late in the fall of 1798 a revolutionary soldier wrote on the fly-leaf
of his Bible that the “North-west Territory” made a delightful home,
saying: “My footsteps always gladly hasten homeward; and when I pull
the string and open the door, the delicious odor of roasting game and
cornbread meets with smiles of hungry approbation. And with kisses for
the children and blessings for a good wife, who could ask for more or a
better home.”
[Illustration: Home of the Pioneer.]
Another in 1799--“We often talk of fathers and mothers, brothers and
sisters and friends left behind, and wish them _here_. And as the
holidays draw near we send them our wishes and prayers, for it is all
we can do. There is no mail or carrier pigeon to cross the wilderness
that takes any thing else.”
The pioneer believed in the declaration of the Ordinance of 1787,
that “_Religion_, _Morality_, and _Knowledge_” were necessary to good
government and happiness of mankind. Thanksgiving and Christmas were
days of universal observation. The Star of Bethlehem was the Star of
Empire, and rested as brightly over the North-west Territory as when
shining on the little town in Judea.
During the first few years of pioneer life, new and interesting as it
must have been, few persons, comparatively, kept a diary of social life
and times; and of such accounts fewer still remain to the present. Yet
the number is sufficient to show corroborating testimony or agreement
with the following in substance taken from a family history of a father
and mother who, with three small children, a dog and gun, and all their
worldly goods, crossed the mountains on foot, by following the Indian
trail--reaching the Ohio river, floated to the mouth of the Scioto on
a temporary raft, and from the confluence pushed up its winding course
over fifty miles in a “_dugout_” to the “High Bank Prairie,” near where
Chillicothe now stands--making the trip from Eastern Pennsylvania
in sixty-three days; arriving at the place of destination April 25,
1798--a day of thanksgiving ever after.
The first Christmas seen or enjoyed in the new home of this family
would in the present era be considered out of date, but doubtless at
the time was the duplicate of hundreds of others. The day, before
the event, was set aside for procuring extra supplies from nature’s
store-house, regardless of any signal service. A coon-skin cap and
gloves--deer-skin breeches and leggins, and a wolf-skin “_hunting
shirt_” made the weather right at all times with the hunter.
[Illustration]
“Ay, this is freedom!--these pure skies
Were never stained with village smoke:
The fragrant wind that through them flies,
As breathed from wastes by plough unbroke.
“Here with myrtle and my steed,
And her who left the world for me,
I plant me where the red deer feed
In the green desert--and am free.”
Early in the morning on the 24th of December, 1798, this pioneer
started out with dog and gun in pursuit of Christmas supplies. It was
no small game day--a deer, moose, bear, or wild turkey must adorn the
bill of fare for the Christmas dinner.
Before the sun had reached the meridian mark in the door-way, he
returned loaded down with three turkeys and two grouse. The country
made such a favorable impression, as soon as time and chance offered an
opportunity, the husband sent a letter to a friend at Redstone, Penn.,
who had never seen Ohio, in which he recalls this hunt and the first
Christmas he enjoyed in this lovely country, and which is here given in
his own language:
“After dressing the game and making a present of a turkey and two
grouse to a widow and two children across the river, I told Grace (my
wife) that the man who got injured by the falling tree must have a
turkey, and with her approbation I shouldered a dressed gobbler and
delivered the kind remembrances of my wife to the unfortunate.
“When I returned, it was quite dark, but my mind was ill at ease,
and I told Grace I thought we had better take the other turkey down
to Rev. Dixon as he hunted but seldom, and a bird of the kind would
appear quite becoming, in the presence of a large family of small
children at a Christmas dinner. These suggestions met with hearty
approval, and I started off to walk a half mile or more with a great
dressed gobbler in one hand, a gun in the other, and dog in front.
“On arrival I found the latch-string drawn in, but a knock on the
door soon caused an opening large enough to admit the procession. The
presentation was made with an Irish speech, dilating and describing
the virtues of the deceased; and wishing the minister, his Quaker
Mission and his family a merry Christmas, I turned my steps homewards.
“On my return, Grace wished to know what I expected for our own
dinner;--reminding me of the guests,--Samuel Wilkins and Benjamin
James, who were looked for by invitation, I told her I had been
thinking while on the way home from Mr. Dixon’s, that Dr. Hamberger
and wife up at the ferry were nice folks, and the Dr. had been pretty
busy in his ‘clearing’ lately, and that Jack and I would go, early in
the morning, up to the beech bottom, and get a turkey for the Doctor,
and one for us--I said ‘_Won’t we Jack_’--and Jack’s assent was at
once made known by the wag of his tail.
“Christmas morning, before the breakfast hour, Jack and I returned
with two gobblers, and throwing them down at the cabin door I
exclaimed ‘they are heavy.’ As I did so ‘_a merry Christmas_’ from
Grace rang out on the bare and frosty forest for the first time ever
heard in that vicinity. ‘Oh! the poor birds’ (said Grace), ‘how
nicely bronzed they are--who is it that paints those iridescent
colors? I never saw a happier pair than you and Jack make.’ I
replied, ‘they are beautiful birds, but if I’d had my wits about me,
I could have shown the best woman west of the Alleghanies the nicest
fat fawn she ever looked at. But I was hunting for turkeys, and did
not see it quite soon enough, and let it go without a shot. Never
mind,’ I said, ‘I’ll be there in a day or two’--and I was.”
[Illustration]
The hunter states that he dressed the game, left a turkey in the
doctor’s cabin, and then assisted Grace in placing a twenty pound bird
on a wooden spit to roast for dinner.
Before noon the invited guests came and after pleasantly reviewing
army scenes and political, social and literary prospects of the
people coming to the unbroken wilderness of the North-west, dinner
was announced from the kitchen dining-room and parlor; and a more
intellectual and jolly company has probably not assembled at a
Christmas dinner since 1798. The guests had filled important positions
in the general government, and were both natives of New York; while the
host was from Dublin, and hostess an English lady, a former resident of
London--all educated people, and knew how to entertain and partake of
social and mental enjoyments.
The good pioneer became schooled to a quiet, but heroic submission
to the unavoidable; and in this virtue Grace was recognized a model
throughout the settlement. Still she manifested the greatest sorrow one
could well express in the loss of the souvenir she had so carefully
preserved and protected from damage during the long and perilous
journey to Ohio. A large English Bible, printed in the infancy of
the art, containing the family coat of arms and record for over four
hundred years, with a chart of unbroken line of descent for near one
thousand years. All was lost in the burning of their cabin in 1812.
The pioneer and his good wife lived to enjoy with these three children
and grandchildren, forty-six returns of the Star of Bethlehem, near
where the first Christmas day was seen in Ohio; and the writer has
often heard the aged couple recite with feelings of delightful
remembrance the first Christmas in Ohio as the dearest and most
enchanting of all others.
A country by nature so lovely exerted no little influence on the
civilization and character of its early, but mixed inhabitants. They
all were, or soon became, genial, warm-hearted, kind, neighborly and
obliging, in a sense unknown to phases of civilization connected with
affluent circumstances. They generally settled at short distances from
each other, to better enable them to render mutual assistance, and also
protection in times of danger. Much of the labor necessary to open up a
new country of this character could not be performed “weak-handed” as
“rolling logs,” building cabins, opening roads, etc.; and when a new
arrival appeared in the settlement and announced his desire to remain,
all the neighborhood would cheerfully turn out, and with shovels, axes
and augurs assemble at some designated spot in the forest, and work
from day to day until a domicile was completed. Although entirely
gratuitous, the construction of these log-houses was a business of
experience. First, trees were cut down sufficiently to make an opening
for sunlight, and site to place the cabin; then logs of determined
diameter and length were cut and placed in position, one above another,
and by notching the corners in a manner calculated to make them lie
closely together, the whole became very substantial and binding.
Cross-logs made sleepers and joists, and similar logs of different
lengths formed the gables, and which were held together by supports for
the roof in a way truly primitive and ingenious. It was covered with
clap-boards four or five feet long, split from oak timber, placing
them in the usual way to turn rain, and securing their position by a
sufficient number of heavy poles or split pieces of timber reaching the
length of the roof at right angles to the boards. The weight pole at
the eaves was made stationary by the projecting ends of the top logs at
the corners of the building, and the others were prevented from rolling
down and off the building by intervening blocks of wood placed parallel
with the clap-boards, one end resting against the pole at the eaves and
the other end acting as a stop to the pole next above; and so on to the
comb of the roof. The floor, if not of earth, was made of puncheons or
long clap-boards. The door was constructed of heavy pieces of split
timber, joined to the cross-sections, or battens with wooden pins.
One end of the lower and upper battens was made to project far enough
beyond the side of the door, and large enough to admit an auger hole of
an inch and a half to form part of the hinge for the door. The battens
and hinges were placed on the inside, also the latch, to which a strong
string was attached, and passed through a small hole a short distance
above, terminating on the outside. By pulling the string the latch was
raised and the door opened by persons without. At night, the string
was pulled in, which made a very secure and convenient fastening, in
connection with the two great wooden pins that projected on the line
of the top of the door to prevent it from being raised off the hinges
when closed. It is quite probable, as has often been suggested, this
primitive latch and lock combination gave rise to the saying “you will
find the latch-string always out.”
There were no windows; but, if one was attempted, it consisted of a
small opening without frame, sash, or glass, and was covered with a
piece of an old garment or greased paper. The chimney formed the most
important, as well as singular, part of the structure. It was built
upon the outside, and joined to the cabin some five or six feet in
height at the base, and then contracted, forming a stem detached from
the building and terminating short of its height. The materials used
in its construction consisted of sticks and mud, and when completed
resembled somewhat in shape an immense bay window, or an overgrown
parasite. The logs of the building were cut away at the chimney so as
to give a great opening into this mud pen for a fireplace, and which
sometimes had a back-wall made of clay, shale, or stone. The crevices
between the logs were filled with small pieces of split wood and clay
mortar, both on the inside and outside. Numerous augur holes were bored
in the logs, and pins driven in to hang articles of apparel and cooking
utensils on. Two pins in particular were always so arranged as to
receive the gun, and perhaps under which might be seen a pair of deer
antlers to honor the powder-horn and bullet pouch.
To erect a rude cabin of this kind would frequently occupy all the
persons in a neighborhood three or four days; and, when finished, made
a very humble appearance in the midst of the natural grandeur of its
surroundings. Even after the occupants were domiciliated, the addition
of their worldly goods added but little to the unostentatious show of
comfort. In the absence of facilities for transportation, the pioneer
was obliged to leave most every thing behind; or, worse perhaps, had
nothing but family, dog, and gun to bring with him; so the furniture
of his new home consisted of a bedstead made of poles--a table from a
split log;--a chair in the shape of a three-legged stool;--a bench,
and a short shelf or two. The utensils for cooking were quite as
limited and simple, and corresponded in usefulness and decoration
most admirably with the furniture; generally consisting of a kettle,
“skillet,” stew-pan, a few pewter dishes, and gourds. These with an
occasional souvenir, or simple article that could be easily carried
from the “Old Home,” made up the invoice of the inside of the cabin of
the pioneer.
Notwithstanding the apparent scanty comforts in the house, they were
more imaginary than real. It required but little exertion to keep the
larder supplied with the choicest beasts, birds, and fish, which with
hominy, or, still better, the corn dodger, shortened with turkey fat or
bear’s oil, and baked in the ashes--or that climax, the “johnny-cake”
well browned and piping hot on the board in front of a grand open
fire--constituted a substantial diet that might be envied by those of
the present day. In addition to these, there was no lack of pumpkins,
potatoes, turnips, beans, berries,[1] honey, and maple sugar, and the
early settler had little reason to sigh for the delicacies of a more
advanced civilization.
Sugar making was an attractive calling and one of the pioneers’
money-making industries, although sugar groves were scattered over
the entire state. The trees, by nature, were gregarious, growing in
clusters from hundreds to thousands so thickly set over the ground that
few if any other varieties could find room to maintain a standing.
There are a few of the older crop of sugar trees still remaining; but
the great “_camps_” that furnished sweets in abundance have, with other
varieties of timber, fallen victims to the woodman’s ax.
It has been suggested that the yearly “_tapping_” might injure the
growth and shorten the longevity of the trees; but both experiment and
observation tend to sustain the opposite opinion. A tree that has been
under the notice of the writer for more than seventy years, and has
been tapped in three to four places every year for the period named, is
still a beautiful, healthy, growing tree.
It may be correct, that “it takes more than one swallow to make a
summer;” but the evidence shown in the wood made into lumber after many
years “_tapping_” for “_sugar water_” (not sap), is not significant of
injury or decay. The cut made by the auger is soon closed over, which,
no doubt, would be different if the sugar was obtained from “_the sap_”
or wood-producing fluid. The fluid which contains the sugar is no
nearer the “_sap_” (or blood of the tree) than is the milk, or other
cellular secretion of a gland, near or identical with the blood or life
sustaining and constructive element of animal existence.
A pioneer who owned a small cluster of sugar trees made his own sugar
and some to spare, while those working camps of several thousand trees
made it a “profitable calling and supplied others at reasonable rates
of exchange,” so no one had occasion to stint or reason to complain.
It required some labor and expense to equip a camp for making sugar;
but once furnished, the material lasted many years. During the time
unoccupied, the furnace and kettles under the shed would be surrounded
with a temporary fence--the sugar-troughs, spiles, sled, water-barrel,
funnel-buckets, etc., at the ending of the sugar season would be
safely housed to remain until the next year. As soon as the icy
earth began giving way to mild sunshining days in the latter part of
winter, it was considered by the “_sugar-maker_” as the announcement
of the near approach of “_sugar weather_.” At such times, on like
indications, the “_sugar-troughs_” would be taken from the place of
deposit and distributed to the trees; the better ones getting the
larger troughs. The water-barrel underwent inspection--the funnel
refitted--sled repaired--the pile of dry wood increased--store-room or
annex renovated--tubs and buckets soaked--shortage of “_spiles_” and
“_sugar-troughs_” made good--furnace and kettles cleaned, and every
thing made ready for the work.
After this, the first clear frosty morning with the prospect of a
thawing day, a man would be seen with an auger passing rapidly from
tree to tree, closely followed by another, with a basket and hatchet,
who “_drove the spiles_” and set the troughs as fast as the one with
the auger made the holes.
It would have astonished a Havemeyer[2] to witness the rapidity
with which the “_tapping_” was accomplished. In a few moments the
surrounding forest seemed sparkling with the beauties of the rainbow,
and echoing the music of falling waters, each tree dripping, dripping
with a rapidity suggestive of a race and wager held by Nature for the
one that first filled the assigned trough with sparkling gems.
A “_run_” of sugar-water was not dependent upon a special act of
Congress, nor was the product a subject for public revenue. It was
limited, however, to frosty nights and warmer days; and when a number
of consecutive days and nights remained above or below freezing, the
“_sugar-water_” would cease to flow, often making it necessary to
remove the “_spiles_” and freshen the auger-hole at the next run to
insure the natural ability of the tree.
Sugar manufactured in those days was made from the black maple or
sugar tree. This tree was very productive--in an ordinary season would
run ten or twelve gallons each in twenty-four hours, and during the
season average enough for ten to fifteen pounds of sugar--the better
trees have been known to produce over fifty pounds each in an ordinary
season. This, however, was before Congress suspected a trust and
combine would be a good thing for the common people or got up the Luxow
investigation and whitewash of the sugar business by New York. The
sugar maker knows quite well the kind of days he could obtain a run of
“sugar-water,” and for that purpose one or more holes were bored into
the tree three to five inches deep, and “spiles” driven in to conduct
the fluid into the sugar-trough.
The “spiles” that conducted the water from the tree to the trough were
made from sections of elder or sumac, eight or ten inches in length,
shaved down to the pith from three inches of one end, which formed
the shoulder, made tapering to close the auger hole of the usual
size, three-fourths of an inch. The pith in the shoulder and body of
the spile was removed so as to form a channel for the sugar-water to
escape. The sugar-trough was a short trough two to four feet long made
of some light wood, as the white walnut, and were carefully charred on
the inside or concavity to prevent the injury of the delicate flavor
of the sugar. Many persons, familiar with higher mathematics and
languages named in the curriculum of Yale or Harvard, as well as words
and phrases used in athletic games, and manly arts of self-defense,
would be turned down if asked to describe or name the uses of many very
simple things to an Ohio “squirrel hunter” of three score and ten years.
No doubt there are many more persons that have seen and felt the great
Congressional Sugar Trust and Combine than are now living who have seen
the headquarters of one of those primitive “_sugar camps_,” with its
row of kettles placed over a furnace--under an open shed--parallel with
and near the kettles under this shed, a reservoir made from a section
of a large tulip tree, to hold the excess of gathered water during the
day for night boiling--the sled and mounted barrel with, a sugar-trough
funnel--the annex near the furnace to obtain light and heat, with other
primitive articles or things connected with and used in the manufacture
of sugar.
The annex or temporary residence of those running the camp was
generally a strong well-built cabin with one door, but no window. The
door occasionally showed a want of confidence by being ornamented
with a heavy padlock and chain. This little building entertained
many a jolly crowd. It was the manufacturer’s office, storeroom,
parlor, bedroom and restaurant. It was always a pleasant place to
spend an evening, and, still more, a delightfully-sweet place on
“_stirring-off_” days--to watch the golden bubbles burst in air and
with noisy efforts rising to escape, driven back by their master with
the enchantment of a fat-meat pill and made to dance to the tune of
Yankee Doodle Dandy; for then was the time to dip and cool the wooden
“_paddle_,” and taste again and again the charming sweetness of maple
sugar in its native purity.
But in less than a century sugar-trees, sugar-troughs, and pioneer
sugar making have been classed with things of the past, scarcely
known by the many, and remembered but by a few; and shows how soon
time makes abandoned words and many simple expressions of facts
obsolete and unknown. When it is said, “In infancy he was rocked in
a sugar-trough,” the language to many is as figurative, hypothetical
or meaningless as the “lullaby upon the tree tops.” The younger
generations never saw the pioneer cradle, and Noah Webster did not get
far enough West to incorporate the word in his “Revised Dictionary.”
The ordinary use of sugar-troughs was to catch and hold the sweet water
as it dripped from the “_spile_” placed in the sugar-tree. But under
certain circumstances good specimens were devoted to other purposes,
and not a few eminent lawyers, doctors, statesmen and divines have
proudly referred to their cradling days as those having been well spent
in the pioneer environment of a “sugar-trough.”
The sugar made from trees was gradually superseded by cane and beet
productions; and the supply has always remained equal to the demand
at moderate prices; and not until 1887 did the country discover
the necessity of a “Sugar Trust” to control and regulate the trade
of the United States. This combine started with a capital of seven
million dollars, capitalized at fifty millions, and again was watered
up to seventy-five millions. This trust controlled four-fifths to
ninety-eight per cent of all the refined sugar in the United States.
The president of this trust has been receiving an annual salary of one
hundred thousand dollars and the secretary seventy-five thousand. The
stockholders have absorbed as dividends nearly four hundred million
dollars in the eleven years of its existence, while thousands of its
employes obtain but six dollars a week, working twelve hours each day
in rooms at a temperature not much below two hundred degrees. The
scales of justice are not often evenly balanced in trust monopolies
that yield a net income of five hundred per cent profit on the capital
invested.
The pioneer, however, had no use for “combines” to keep him poor,
for like many facts not admitted or recognized at the time, good
subsistence was so easily obtained from nature that it frequently
contributed much toward creating an indifference for labor, which
remained through life and kept the man of destiny no better off than
when he arrived at his new home. It was no easy task to clear the land
and prepare the soil for agricultural purposes. As a rule the timber
was large and thickly set upon the ground; usually the best soil was
covered with the greatest trees, and the labor required for their
removal was not inviting to those who could subsist well without it.
The white oak, burr oak, black oak, black walnut, sycamore, poplar,
and other varieties, had for centuries been adding size and strength
to their immense proportions. These giants, and the smaller timber
and undergrowth, required great energy, perseverance and protracted
labor to remove and clear the ground ready for a crop. The usual plan
for their removal was by “girdling,” or cutting a circle around the
trunk of each sufficiently deep to kill the tree, and then to burn by
piece-meals as the branches and trunks came down by reason of time and
decay. Consequently the patch of sunshine around these primitive homes,
as a rule, did not enlarge very rapidly, and the pioneer too often
became a man of procrastination and promise; and for all the time he
had (the present) preferred the dog and gun to the maul and wedge as a
means of subsistence. Some, however, opened up small fields and farms
by disposing of the timber in this slow way. In the meantime, while
the process of decay was going on, grain and vegetables were grown in
the openings among the dead timber. The crops were generally divided
pretty equally between the wild animals and the landlord. This loss,
however, was of no great importance as there was no money, market, or
mill; nor domestic animals to take a surplus. At a later day, and after
the introduction of “movable mills,”[3] there still existed no market
for the products of the soil, and to grow enough for food seemed all
that could be required of the most ambitious pioneer; and if at any
time the returns exceeded the estimates and insured a surplus, such
overabundance seldom went to waste, as there were always enough who
yearly came short in this respect, and were ready to share with the
more prosperous neighbor.
The time and labor expended upon clearing the ground and raising grain
met with little or no reward. The products could not be sold nor
exchanged for necessaries of life. Consequently the forests remained
quite undisturbed for many years and agriculture neglected, excepting
for the necessary consumption of the family. The early settler,
however, was not all the time free from discouragements. His domestic
animals frequently became lost, or destroyed by ravenous beasts; and
diseases of the country occasionally were protracted; and to the wife
and children, he sometimes felt, it was not so much a paradise. But
he came to stay, and this, for better or for worse, was his home, and
submitted philosophically to circumstances and events he could not
control.
The wife and mother endured with patience and heroism all privations
and afflictions equally with the husband and father, and performed
the arduous household duties; and, like the model woman of old,
“sought wool and flax and worked willingly with her hands,” and the
whirring spinning-wheel and thudding loom were heard in most every
household. The welfare of the family depended upon the success of home
industries, and consequently the wife had much less leisure than the
husband. She superintended the manufacture of all the fabrics for the
house and for the clothing of the family, and cut and made up the same
without protection, tariff, rebate, or combine. And it is singular so
little has been recorded of the good women who unlocked the resources
of the new territory and gave their aid in founding a civilization that
has surpassed all precedents in the history of nations.
Natives of every country and of every grade of intelligence in
the new environment became alike distinguished for liberality and
hospitality--ever desirous to forget the past, willing to admit the
future, and ready to enjoy the present, the life of the pioneer was
seldom darkened or overburdened with toil or care, and had times of
good cheer, and was not without his social amusements. The violin and
Monongahela whisky found way to the settlements and were accepted by
many, young and old; and the dance after a quilting, shooting-match,
fox-chase, bear-hunt, log-rolling, or house-raising gave all the
pleasure and excitement desired.
As the population became more numerous, leisure and the desire for
amusements increased; and among the many ways devised to entertain
and interest, no one, perhaps, ever received more attention, higher
cultivation, and obtained more general favor than the chase. Most
descendants of Virginia, however destitute in other respect, had their
packs of “hounds,” and the good people and the better, the poor and the
poorer, some on horse and some on foot, mingled alike in the exciting
sport.
The pedigrees, qualities, and performances of “lead dogs” of different
owners were known over the country, and their comparative merits were
frequently subjects that called forth the warmest discussions, the
disputants generally ending the controversy with knock-down arguments
on both sides. The owners of the dogs always manifested great pride and
satisfaction in public praises and good will toward their animals, and
no offense received a greater condemnation than the theft or injury of
one of these “noblemen’s pets.”
Whenever a “pack” failed in having a good “leader” and “poked,” they
lost their reputation at once and forever. And many trips were made on
horseback through the wilderness over the mountains to South Branch,
or other points in Virginia, on pretext of other business, when the
real purpose proved to be “fresh blood,” or perhaps a pack of dogs
that could take the front. They were brought through on foot, chained
one behind another in double file, with a chain between, and horse
in front, resembling the transportation of surplus of the “divine”
institution in the days of John Brown. New importations, however,
did not often give satisfaction. As a rule, the dogs of the finest
scent and greatest endurance and speed were bred in Ohio. Such were
McNeal’s “Nick,” Jordan’s “Sam,” Anderson’s “Magnet,” Renick’s “Pluto
the Swift,” McDowell’s “Yelp,” Colonel Vause’s “Clynch,” and a host
of others that never saw a “bench-show,” but were awarded the highest
praises by men who filled their places as well in the chase, as many of
them did, important public positions in after life. And in the written
history of these notable contests for superiority is the circumstance,
if not the day, when Colonel Vause’s little blue hound, his lead dog,
“Clynch,” outwinded and distanced all the other “packs” as well as his
own companions, and pursued the deer alone so inveterately, the poor
animal, confused or to confuse, ran to the town of Chillicothe and into
the open, empty jail, and was there captured.
[Illustration: Stray Pup.]
But of all the dogs known to have taken part in amusing the people of
destiny; or aided the advancing strides of civilization, none ever
attracted such universal attention, and enjoyed that wide-spread fame
as that given to “_Gibbs’ Stray Pup_.”
Quite early in the fall, when as yet the frosts had but slightly tinted
the woodland foliage, some hunters while after turkeys, saw a dog in
hot pursuit of a deer, and so close was the chase that the fatigued
animal leaped from a high bank into deep water in Paint Creek and
expired immediately. This dog proved to be a little half-starved,
lemon, black and white pup, not more than seven months old, and having
around his neck a section of dilapidated bed cord. Such a performance
by a strange pup so very young and alone, attracted no little attention
and talk, especially among the sporting gentlemen, who kept first-class
dogs, and doted more upon their hounds than upon their lands and
houses. Mr. James Gibbs was one of these, and by right of discovery,
took the pup in charge and named him “Gamer.” The dog proved a stray in
the settlement, and no owner could be found, and mere supposition gave
a satisfactory explanation. “The pup had broken away from an emigrant
wagon to get after the deer.”
At maturity, true to instinct, Gamer refused to follow deer, but became
the embodiment of all the virtues and qualifications of a thoroughbred
fox-hound. His fleetness, his extraordinary “_cold nose_,” or ability
to carry a “cold trail;” his industry, perseverance, and sagacity, made
him the model and marvel of all who knew him. He always led the pack
far in advance, and so exact was he to hound nature, that in case the
fox doubled short and came back near enough to be seen and turned upon
by all the other dogs, he would continue around the course and unravel
every winding step. His voice was quite as marked and remarkable as any
of his other qualities: so much so, that for many years it lingered in
the ears of surviving friends like the far-off echo of an Alpine horn.
He could be distinctly heard across the great valley, bounded east by
the Rattlesnake and west by Patton and Stone Monument Hills, a distance
of more than five miles in an air line. His cry was musical, prolonged
and varied, opening with a deep loud bass, and closing with a high,
clear note, it would come to the listener sharp and distinct, solitary
and alone, when the united cry of all the pack would be dead in the
distance.
An accurate likeness with minute description of this dog has been
preserved--height, above the average fox-hound; length, medium;
head, long and narrow and well elevated when running; under jaw,
three-fourths of an inch short, which gave a pointed appearance to
the face; eye, intellectual and gamy, but of a most singular yellow
color; ears, long and thin, but not wide; neck, slim and clean;
shoulders, firm; chest, deep, the breast-bone projecting so as to make
a perpendicular offset of two inches; back, quite straight; loins, not
wide; hind legs, unusually straight; hams, thin, flat and tapering;
tail, slim, medium length, little curved, and hair short towards the
tip; color, white, excepting a large black spot on each side of the
chest, tipped with lemon; a small black spot joined to a lemon spot on
each hip or root of the tail, lemon head and ears, with small black
spot behind each ear. Altogether a fine appearing dog, especially when
engaged in the chase: and before two years old, was held in high
esteem by the owner.
[Illustration: Gamer.]
The popularity of Gamer was now fast gaining ground, as his
performances were casting shadows over dogs of high repute, and many
things were attempted to silence the repeated huzzahs that came in at
the end of every chase for “Gibb’s Stray Pup.” Years rolled on, pack
after pack, pick after pick were pitted against the “pup” to no purpose
excepting to widen the difference by comparison.
A single incident taken from many that might be given, will
sufficiently illustrate the superior qualities of this remarkable dog,
as well as the usual success attendant upon the efforts to detract
from his merited superiority by running picked hounds with him in the
chase. A number of persons in every neighborhood kept hounds, and each
owner considered himself the possessor of a small fortune, consisting
at least of one animal that was considered faster and truer than any
one belonging to a neighbor; and it was an easy matter at any time to
summon on short notice fifteen to thirty of these favorites surrounded
by a conflict of good opinions. On the 11th of November, 18--, twenty
gentlemen, some of whom afterwards rose to high political and judicial
eminence in the history of the state and nation, met by agreement and
entered the forest at four o’clock in the morning with twelve dogs,
the pick of the best packs known in the state. The atmosphere was
still, white frost hung on the trees all day; the ground was but little
frozen, and other things perhaps conspired to make it favorable, as
hunters say, “for scent to lay.”
The dogs soon struck a cold trail, perhaps where the fox had been
the previous evening, and which could be followed but slowly. Before
midday, it became too cold for all the dogs excepting Gamer and two old
hounds, one of which was famous for his “cold nose.” The latter dogs,
however, were unable to get scent excepting in favorable places; and,
by three o’clock in the afternoon, they too were out, and no longer
able to render assistance. Gamer still kept at work trailing Reynard’s
footsteps so closely, that on his way he entered an old vacant cabin,
declaring most emphatically that Reynard had been there, showing that
even on the dry ground and probably more than ten hours after the
presence of the animal, there was enough found to call forth a most
vigorous cry.
When more than half a mile from this cabin, the trail was lost, and
half an hour was consumed, with all the dogs in circuits, to no
purpose. While engaged in these efforts to strike the track, the
wonderful “pup” raised his voice most significantly at the very spot
where he had ceased his cry. He had discovered the track and commenced
a rapid backward march in the precise line over the same ground he had
passed but a short time before. When within fifteen or twenty rods
of the old vacant cabin, he turned off through a “deadening” in the
direction of Mount Logan, showing that, notwithstanding the fox had
retraced his steps for a long distance, the sagacious hound detected
the fact after going over the ground, and that, too, when the trail was
so very cold that no other dog in the chase could take the scent.
From Mount Logan the trail was leading through thicker timber, and
Reynard had been zig-zagging here and there, in search, perhaps, of
birds and rodents for his supper the night before, walking on logs and
limbs of trees whenever near his intended line of march. Here, the dog
quite knowingly changed his tactics, and for two hours ran at more than
half speed from log to log, right to left, with nose close to the bark
and decayed wood, as he rapidly passed, would let out his encouraging
cry.
In this way he followed the crooked course until the close of the day,
carrying a trail for thirteen hours, which the fox had passed at no
point less than ten hours before, following it, too, more than three
hours after the best and most renowned dogs ever in Ohio were silent.
It was now dusk, the timber sparse and logs few, making the chances
seemingly more unfavorable. So, the hunters who had been on the go for
fifteen hours, and without the substantials of life for twenty-four
hours, concluded to quit, and, calling the dogs to follow, turned in
the direction of the by-path leading toward home. All the dogs were
very ready to obey, excepting Gamer, who only stopped for a moment to
gaze at his retreating masters, and then resumed his work, in which he
became more and more interested as the day passed on. It was thought,
however, he would soon quit and overtake his companions but, before the
hunters had gone a mile, Gamer’s starting cry was heard; he had winded
Reynard where he had stopped to spend the day high up the mountain
side. Every hound knew it was no cry on a cold trail, and turned and
went off at the top of their speed. Soon Gamer could be heard over
ridges and hills far away; and the hunters, thinking the run would be
made in the broken mountains, went home. A squirrel hunter in that
vicinity, who obtained Reynard’s “brush,” reported the fox so closely
pressed, that he soon doubled, came back, and entered a hollow log near
his cabin, and was captured. The time given showed the run was finished
in less than an hour after the hunters left.
[Illustration: Our Cabin, 1821.]
The sense called “power of scent” is exceedingly delicate in the dog,
enabling him to follow the course of one animal amid a multitude
of “tracks” made by others of the same species. This power of
discrimination is frequently manifest even in the common house-dog as
he traces the footsteps of his master or those of his master’s horse
through crowded thoroughfares and winding ways, although hundreds of
similar feet have passed over the ground after the walk of the one
he seeks was made. But, to tell any one but an old foxhunter that it
was possible to find perfection in a dog sufficiently, under the most
favorable circumstances, to run all day on a trail ten hours’ _cold_,
would be deemed purely chimerical.--Gamer is no more.--James Gibbs has
long been numbered with the dead.--And of those who participated in
and enjoyed the pleasures of that day’s chase but one remains a living
witness of the facts herein stated--the old Roman--the Hon. Allen G.
Thurman.--It is a notable fact, that in after years, when those Ohio
boys no longer resembled the festive _hunter_, they always gave a smile
of pleasure at the mention of those merry times; and, even in old age,
when oppressed with the heavy hand of time, nothing awakened the flush
of youthful pride and satisfaction like the rehearsal of the deeds of
the hound that had no equal in the history of the country--“_Gibbs’
Stray Pup_.”
The exterior beauties of an animal are always attractive. But more than
these do we admire those qualities termed intelligence, instinct, and
reason in their beneficent relations to man and the external world. The
dog possesses a most wonderful harmony in form and faculties. He is the
type and embodiment of beauty, strength, and freedom of motion combined
with endurance, courage, zeal, fidelity, constancy, and uncompromising
affection. For these reasons he is of all man’s friends, the most
valuable, the truest, and the best. So devoted and unchangeable is his
love, that he is ever ready to sacrifice his life to save his master
from threatened injury. He long remembers a kindness, and soon forgives
ill usage. At an early age he obtains a knowledge of the meaning
of words in the language of his master, and understands and obeys
commands; and with that retentive memory which animals possess, he
never falters or forgets. The story of Ulysses and his favorite is but
the citation of the tenacity of memory which belongs to the species.
After twenty years--
“Near to the gates, conferring as they drew
Argus, the dog his ancient master knew,
And not unconscious of the voice and tread,
He knew his lord, he knew, and strove to meet;
In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet;
Yet, all he could, his tail, his ears, his eyes
Salute his master and confess his joys.”
From prince to beggar, all the same--the only friend neither misfortune
nor poverty can drive away. He is watchful and bold, and with delight
guards his master’s house and herds from thieves and rapacious animals,
and by his various services has accomplished for man’s happiness and
advancement in civilization _more than all other agencies combined_.
Without this aid, man would scarcely have maintained his existence on
earth. “When he had ‘evolved’ to the ape,”[4] and “for safety lived in
tree-tops with monkeys and squirrels,” his security and advancement
was not so probably due to the suggestive “club” as to _training_ of
dogs, which is given by the great naturalist, Buffon, as the first art
invented by man.
By means of dogs, the rapacious animals common to new or uninhabited
countries are captured or driven to the rear of advancing population.
Almost every emigrant in the earlier settlements of Ohio, from
necessity, became more or less a hunter with dogs, not only to provide
for the family, but as a profit in ridding the locality of thieving
varments with which the forests were overrun. The pelts of fur animals
were a legal tender, and were received as contributions and payment of
debts. And the bark of the industrious dog was in this way transformed
into literary and religious institutions of the country. And if not for
his dogship, the “North-west” would be a wilderness still, inhabited by
wild animals. The great naturalist says: “To determine the importance
of the species in the order of nature, let us suppose it never had
existed.” Without the assistance of the dog, how could man be able to
tame and reduce other animals into slavery? How could he discover,
hunt, and destroy noxious and savage beasts? To preserve his own
safety, and to render himself master of the animated world, it was
necessary to make friends among those animals whom he found capable of
attachment to oppose them to others; therefore, the training of dogs
seems to have been the first art invented by man, and the first fruit
of that art was the conquest and peaceable possession of the earth.
Many species of animals have greater agility, swiftness, and strength,
as well as greater courage than man. Nature has furnished them better.
And the dog not only excels in these, but also in the senses--hearing,
seeing, and smelling; and to have gained possession over a tractable
and courageous species like the dog, was acquiring new or additional
agility, swiftness, strength, and courage with a mysterious increase
of power and usefulness of the more important senses. And by the
friendship and superior faculties of the dog, man became permanently
sovereign and master of all.
“The dog is the only animal whose talents are evident, and whose
education is always successful.”[5]
No better picture, portraying the noble qualities of the dog could be
given than that by Buffon. And why this close observer of nature should
say--“Without having like man _the faculty of thought_,” has always
seemed strange. It sounds like a misprint, or an error in translation.
Thought is the exercise of the mind--reflection, meditation,
consideration, conception, conclusion, judgment, design, purpose,
intention, solicitude, anxious care, concern, etc.
Who is there, even with ordinary acquaintance with the animal, that has
not witnessed some if not all these attributes of “_thought_?” Most
writers on the subject have shown a desire to give the human animal
some distinguishing quality or faculty above all others, but their line
of demarcation between man and the rest of animal creation has not
been altogether successful, as man can not claim by the high authority
that he is the only species that has the something called “_spirit_,”
which is necessary in order “_to think_;” for the sacred book teaches
that man and beast are alike in this, but the _spirit_ of man goeth
upward, while the _spirit_ of the beast goeth downward to the earth,
and which in anti-bellum days constituted a knotty text for Southern
theologians who taught that “_niggers and dogs_” have no souls.
An eminent Scotch clergyman, who has made a study of natural history
believes that dogs are possessed of the same faculties as man,
differing only in degrees. He asserts that conscience in man and
conscience in the dog are essentially the same things. And Charles
Dickens declares that dogs have a moral nature--an unmistakable ability
to distinguish between right and wrong, which led him to believe the
difference in the dog nature and the so-called spiritual nature in man
was imperceptible, and that future existence rested upon like natural
foundations.
It would be holding conclusions in opposition to all rules of
observation to say that dogs and other animals are destitute of the
faculty of “_thought_.” When the awful torrents came sweeping down upon
Johnstown the terrible waves and debris dashed over housetops and Mrs.
Kress was carried away by the wild current in an instant beyond human
help, her faithful dog, unmindful of himself, jumped after her, and
when he saw her dress come to the surface, seized and carried her to
another housetop. Soon this house was demolished, but Romeo kept the
head of Mrs. Kress out of water and battled with the raging current and
floating timber for more than half an hour before he reached the roof
of another house, where she was taken up unconscious with fright and
exhaustion. When the dog saw the motionless condition of his mistress
he barked and howled and made pitiful demonstrations of grief, for he
“_thought_” she was dead; but when she breathed he became delighted and
manifested his joy in a way that could not be mistaken.
For eight summers a little cocker spaniel (Archos) was daily with
the writer in field and forest, and to his industry and sagacity is
due no small part of the success in obtaining fresh specimens for
the life size, hand-colored work by Mrs. N. E. Jones, entitled, “The
Illustrations of the Nests and Eggs of Birds of Ohio.” Many of the rare
small birds build on or near the ground in thick cover, and among those
he was credited with finding may be mentioned the obscure nest and eggs
of the Helminthophaga pinus--Blue-winged yellow warbler, and the nest
of the Geothlypistrichas--Maryland yellow-throat. He knew the object of
pursuit as well as his master, and delighted in finding these little
homes, and would stand firmly on a point, as it was understood between
us that the bird must be shot when flushed for positive identification.
He knew what his master was doing, for he understood the meaning of
almost all words used in ordinary conversation, and could transact
business on orders with admirable accuracy.
While out with a friend quail shooting, the sun was warm and we sat
down on the cool grass in a fence corner shaded by the dead leaves
on an oak bush. The little cocker was panting with heat and enjoyed
the shade quite as much as his master. Soon a voice was heard from my
friend, on the opposite border of a large field, calling: “Send Archos
over here. I have a dead bird my dog can’t find.” The cocker paid no
attention to the call, and no reply was made by the writer. And to show
how much a dog may acquire of the meaning of words in a few years, I
said to Archos in a conversational tone, as he ceased panting and fixed
his great dark eyes on the speaker: “Ed has lost a dead bird--he can
not find it; you go over and get it.” No sooner said than the little
fellow started off in the tall ragweed which covered the field, and
unknown to my friend scented the dead bird and brought it and laid it
at my feet, all the time smiling and wagging the tail, as much as to
say, “I would like to tell you how nicely that was done, but I can’t
talk--dare not.”
Bab says: “Away back in some old book there is a story how dogs used to
talk, and were men’s advisers. One day a great prince met a beautiful
woman, and despite of the advice of the dog who was his counselor, he
married her, and he made her cousin, a beggar, his prime minister. Amid
the festivities, the dog warned the prince to watch the woman, told the
prince that she was unfaithful, that her cousin was her lover, and that
between them they would rob the kingdom and drive him from the throne.
He turned on the dog and cursed him--cursed him so that this good
friend, looking at the prince, said: ‘Until men are grateful and women
are faithful, I and my kind will never speak again.’”
The world has grown older and better, but for the peace of society
and quiet of social relations, it’s well he still holds his tongue.
Professor Garner, who has devoted much time to the study of animals
in this country and in Africa, has confirmed the general observation
of those familiar with rural life to be true: that cattle--as horses,
sheep, hogs and other animals--talk among their kind. What there is to
be detected in the manner of delivery of the same sound, giving out
entirely different sensations, is yet to be discovered. The squeal of
the hungry pig, repeated by the phonograph, only increases the hunger
and squeal of the pig that hears it; while to repeat the similar squeal
of a pig in pain, at once causes manifest fear, anger and distress in
all the pigs that hear it. And it must be so--all domestic animals do
think and reason, and not unoften are enabled to make their thoughts
known by signs and sounds to those to whom they look for help and
comfort other than their kind.
Dogs are utilized extensively in Germany and other parts of Europe as
draft animals. The United States consul says, in the large, wealthy and
industrial city of Leige, and throughout Belgium, dogs are used for
delivery of goods by all the trades of the city. While they are used as
hewers of wood and drawers of water, the species is the most versatile
in talents of the animal creation--and the dog makes the most accurate
critic, the most successful detective, most reliable witness, best
sentinel and most trustworthy friend.
Persons do not stop to think there is a world of intelligence, love and
affection outside the human head and heart, and innocently ask, “What
makes the dog heed every word when his master says ‘you can not go with
me this time?’ What makes him place himself at the most observing point
and look wistfully after his departing friends until they disappear
in the distance? Why does he stay, perchance all day, at a favorable
point to hear or see a returning approach, anxiously waiting and
watching, and at the well-known and accurately distinguished sounds of
the footsteps of his master’s horse from all others, runs to meet his
master, and barks and laughs and cries with joy and gladness?” The
beneficence of creation gives the answer in a world of unselfish love.
Dogs know nothing of hypocrisy--are always sincere--never lie--dislike
ridicule--and never accept nor offer a joke.
The dog has been recognized as valuable property by his owner in
every age, nation and people on the face of the earth; but with no
staple market price any more than there is for that of the horse. The
consideration is determined by amount of education, usefulness or
purposes which he is capable of fulfilling.
Colonel D. D. Harris, of Mendon, Michigan, refused more than once ten
thousand dollars for his famous sable Scotch Collie. He was a dog of
such note, with the refined people of the world, that he was privileged
to walk through the Vatican, and was entertained by the President of
France--the Czar of the Russias--the King of Norway and Sweden, and
other nobility of the old world. President Cleveland stroked his glossy
coat, and he received the most grateful attention among all the courts
visited in this and in other countries.
This Collie was never on public exhibition, but was the traveling
companion of his owner. He could select any card called for in the
deck--if not there, would say so by giving a whine--could distinguish
colors as well as any human being; and could count money and make
change with the rapidity and accuracy of an expert bank accountant.
If told to make change of $31.31, or any other amounts from coins of
various denominations, he could do so rapidly and without mistake. This
intelligent dog lived out his allotted brief existence, dying at the
age of fourteen years; but was better known than thousands of men who
have lived much longer, thinking themselves quite eminent.
If dogs are not valuable property why are they exchanged at high rates
in dollars and cents? Why did Mr. E. R. Sears, of Melrose, Mass., part
with his twelve thousand five hundred dollars in “greenbacks” for the
dog Bedivere? It may be _said_ the one who purchased a dog at that
price was “_green_”--if said, it would be a mistake, for _Green_ was
the gentleman who sold him.
The greater part of the early population of Ohio associated with dogs
much of their time, and with good results. But the law-makers of the
state, or a majority, had a penchant for self-elevation by legislating
against those they feared as rivals--“dogs and niggers.” Consequently,
“Black laws” and dog laws engrossed the time and talents of law-makers,
who felt measurably unsafe unless the former were excluded as property
and the latter deprived of citizenship.
The sensitive, if not infallible, Supreme Court has recently given
the property rights and protection of the dog a bad set-back in the
decision that “dogs are not property,” and outside of property it
would seem there can be no ownership. But as decisions of the learned
court are not required to be accepted in silence by the canine species,
_this one_ affecting their rights is enough to make every dog of high
and low degree, from Maine to California, rise up with a prodigious
howl of contempt.
The logic by which the high court was enabled to enunciate its decision
is quite as remarkable as the decision itself. It would seem the
learned court divided the animal creation into two parts--“useful and
useless,” and subdivided these into “wild and domestic beasts;” and
then states: “Dogs belong to the non-useful, wild animal division.”
_Ergo_: “Wild animals, as dogs which have been domesticated, are
therefore property _only while in actual custody_”--which means in
arms, cages, or confinement. An able critic, and a very well-informed
lawyer, says: “Any respectable court would laugh at the proposition
that it is not theft to appropriate a diamond which has escaped from
the owner’s custody.” But that is another kind of cow--_the poor have
dogs_, not _diamonds_. Still the learned man is to be admired who said:
“I like dogs because I know so many men and women.
“I like dogs because they always see my virtues and ignore my vices.
“I like dogs because they are friends through good report and evil
report--through poverty and through riches.
“I like dogs because they are faithful and generous.
“I like dogs because they are full of simplicity and find pleasure in
very little things.”
The population of the early settlements of Ohio bought and sold dogs,
and considered them as much property as horses, cattle, or other
personalty. They were not purchased by the pound; neither were hogs nor
cattle. Among traders of the rural districts, every thing weighing over
five hundred pounds was bought and sold upon appearance and opinion, by
the piece.
Where the price caused a disagreement between buyer and seller, some
mutual friend, who had obtained a good reputation as guesser, would
be called as an arbiter. Fattened cattle to go east, purchased by
“drovers,” were never weighed, but were taken, like horses, at a
given sum per head. Fattened hogs, however, were generally weighed,
by request of the purchaser. Each hog would be suspended, and weight
determined by the “steelyard,” and then branded with a redhot iron on
the left ham. This done, the squealing prisoner would surrender his
place and attentions of the audience to the next, and so on, until
the whole drove became duly registered. But farmers trading among
themselves, buying and selling stock, depended entirely upon their
sight and judgment as to the valuation.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Native fruit: cranberries, huckleberries, blackberries,
raspberries, service berries, paw-paws (custard apples), persimmons,
plums, grapes, cherries, haws, crab apples.
[2] Mr. Havemeyer is the autocrat of the Sugar Trust of America after
the fashion of Mr. Arbuckle, the Coffee Baron. Under the chairmanship
of a committee the New York legislature, Senator Luxow investigated
the Sugar Trust and found Mr. Havemeyer controlled four-fifths of the
entire output of sugar in America.
[3] Mills erected on two boats, separated at an angle, with water wheel
near the bow. The natural current of the stream passing between the
boats turned the wheel that moved the machinery of the mill, which
would grind twenty to forty bushels of corn in twenty-four hours,
according to the current of the stream.
[4] Prof. Drummond.
[5] Buffon.