Wild Sports In The Far West

For some time I kept the broad road towards Batesville, then struck off to the left through the forest, and, going tolerably fast, arrived before sunset at the plantation of a widow named Pace, where I intended to pass the night, having still ten miles to go to Little Red river, and no other house near the path. The roof reflected the last beams of the setting sun; my stomach, which had received nothing but the coffee since the previous evening, was beginning to rejoice, when we both found ourselves wofully disappointed – the lady was not at home. The slaves dared not admit any stranger to sleep there. I should not have cared about a roof to sleep under, for the nights were fine and warm, if only I could have obtained something to eat; but this could not be, and I was obliged to employ the fine warm night in walking on to the place of my destination.

After the sun had gone down, my light-colored, well-trodden path was illuminated by the nearly full moon, for I had left the darker lowlands some hours ago, and was traversing dry, but not very fruitful, hills, through the midst of fir-trees. About two miles short of the river, I gained the crest of the hills that divide the waters of the White and Little Red rivers, just as the moon was setting, and my limbs felt as if they were hung with lead. I had gone seventy miles since the previous morning without tasting a regular meal, which was more than flesh and blood could bear for any length of time, and at last I was so overcome by fatigue that I sank down exhausted under a tree without even lighting a fire. The poor dog lay by my side, resting his head on my arm. I might have slept about three hours, for the first gleam of approaching day was lighting up the eastern sky, when I was awakened by the loud, angry bark of the dog. I jumped up, rifle in hand, but could see nothing and hear nothing: I cheered on the dog, but in vain: he would not move from my side, and only barked louder and louder. I fancied he might have scented wolves, and was about to lie down again, when I distinctly heard a rustling in the bush, although there was not a breath of wind. I approached the place cautiously with both barrels cocked, but could discover nothing; and as it was still dark, and no trail perceptible, I could do no more, so lay down again for another short sleep, when I suddenly heard the short piercing roar of a panther, which those who have once heard never forget. My dog answered it with a slight whimper, and crept closer to my side. I now knew the character of my nightly visitor; and tolerably sure that, once frightened away, he would be in no hurry to return, I was soon asleep, and remained so till awakened by the cold air which always precedes the rising sun.

As beautiful a panorama as I had ever beheld lay spread out before me. A sea of forest as far as the eye could reach, in every shade of color, from the darkest green to light blue – the Little Red river winding through the midst of it, while a light downy mist hung about the tips of the trees on its banks. To the west and south-west, the distant mountains cut sharply in a mass of blue against the lighter morning sky. Hills overgrown with pines rose above the darker extent of oak, like islands floating in a deep green sea, as the sun’s rays were reflected from the dewy leaves. Light vapor rising here and there from the valleys, curling over the forest, and vanishing into air, revealed the site of human habitations hidden in the woods. I sat long, lost in contemplation of the lovely scene, and again the question pressed itself upon me – “Why must I enjoy it alone?” Then I remembered my visitor of the past night, and, shaking off all mournful thoughts, looked out for the trail; and there, hardly twenty paces from my bivouac, were the marks of the large round paws of the beast impressed in the loose sand. He had probably tried to creep up to me without being discovered, but the dog had spoiled his sport.

Refreshed by sleep, I hastened down the hill, found a canoe, which took me over the river, and soon the well-known friendly abode of the Rhenish-Bavarian shone invitingly before me. It seemed almost as if it was my home, from which I had been long, long absent, and that all its dear inmates would rush joyfully forward to embrace me. Alas for our dreams!

Hilger and his wife welcomed me with a hearty shake of the hand. I soon felt myself at home and happy with these kind people, and I was not a little delighted with the breakfast, which quickly adorned the table, and which did not taste amiss after my long fast.

Hilger had made vast improvements in his condition since I was here two years ago. He had bought the land, had a pair of horses, several head of cattle and pigs, and lived happy and independent in the circle of his family, which, in the mean time had been increased by the birth of a little prince. His two sons, of fifteen and thirteen, were nice lads, and worked hard with their father to make their way in the world happily and honestly.

Uhl came in in the afternoon from a place belonging to Von G., about two miles off. He looked very pale and wretched, still suffering severely from ague. I was delighted to pass a short time here among Germans, where I could speak my mother-tongue to my heart’s content, and live like a man. Peaches and watermelons grow here in great abundance, and were a treat which I had long been deprived of.

On the second day I went down the river to Von G.’s, who kept the ferry, and in whose house I had passed the night two years ago, on my first arrival. He received me kindly and hospitably. He was a keen sportsman and capital shot, and was extremely lucky in shooting by torchlight, a practice in which he had acquired such perfection as often to shoot three or four deer in a night. On one night when I went out with him, he shot a noble buck, hitting him right in the heart, although he could not see his body, and could only judge of his position by the light reflected from his eyes, and by their movement. I shall describe this sort of shooting more particularly hereafter. I also attempted it, but without success, from want of practice, having yet to learn all the fine touches. We saw the eyes of three wolves, but they were frightened by the fire, and would not come near us.

My health was still far from good; and being one day wet through by a sudden shower, I was again attacked by ague, and obliged to lie fallow for a couple of days. As my illness came on at Von G.’s, he kindly asked me to remain with him till I was better. I gratefully accepted the invitation, and recovered in a few days, when I took a hearty farewell of all my kind friends here, and returned to my marshes.

On the fourth of September I crossed White river, and went on to Little Cash river, passing a distillery, where they made maize whiskey, but sold very little of it, as the three young men, who carried on business in company, drank most of it themselves.

The Cash was so shallow that I crossed it along a fallen tree, and, as it began to rain, I stopped for the night at the house of a man named Harriot. We had finished our simple supper, and were sitting comfortably by a blazing fire, which was crackling up the chimney, when my host, looking at me sideways, cleared his throat, and brought his chair a little nearer to mine, then giving the quid of tobacco in his cheek an extra turn, put to me the unexpected question – “How’s the king of Spain?” I was rather disconcerted at first, and thought he wanted to make fun of me, but when I saw by his countenance, that he was in downright earnest, I replied gravely, that according to the last accounts which I had received His Majesty was suffering from a severe cold; – whereupon he expressed his sincere regret, and then inquired after all the other crowned heads in Europe. As we proceeded in our conversation, I found that by the king of Spain he meant Gustavus Adolphus: he placed Francis the Second of Austria on the throne of France; England was ruled by Constantine the Great; and Germany was presented to Louis Philippe. I was much amused with his wild fantasies. In the meanwhile he kept paying earnest devotion to the whiskey bottle, offering it to me at the same time. I took a little at first, but latterly only put it to my lips for show. The nearer we approached the bottom of the bottle, the wilder danced their majesties across the magic lantern of his imagination. And as we were taking into consideration the case of Russia, which, by our united endeavors, had become a republic, his head began to nod, and his chin had hardly touched his breast when he began to snore. His wife, a simple soul, who had been brought up in the woods, had listened to us with astonishment, and was still holding her mouth open as I turned to seek my bed.

My dreams transported me to my native land – not to the royal palaces I had just left, but to my home, with its much-loved forms. On the 5th of September, I arrived again at Saint’s, and indulged my body with some necessary repose, shattered as it was by so many attacks of the ague. On the 9th, Saint commenced his Indian corn harvest, which lasted till the 11th, and I gave my assistance. The cobs were simply broken away from the stems, and cast into a cart which carried them to the building prepared to receive them. When this work was done, we began another – namely, to clear about half an acre more land, and sow it with turnips.

The western settlers, and particularly those in the south-western states, are not very fond of hard work; in those wild regions they prefer rearing cattle and shooting, to agriculture, and are loth to undertake the hard work of felling trees and clearing land. To make the labor as light as possible, yet still to increase their fields, they generally clear a small space every autumn, and ploughing it very slightly, sow it with turnips, which answer best for new ground. Next year it is fenced in and added to the field.

When about to make a clearing, the American looks out for the largest and straightest oaks, which he fells, and slits into poles, from ten to twelve feet long, for fencing. When he thinks he has enough for this purpose, the rest is cut up and piled; next, the trees which have a diameter of eighteen inches and under, are felled, at about half a yard from the ground, and cut into lengths, while the larger trees are girdled all round with the axe, and very soon die. The shrubs and bushes are then rooted up with a heavy hoe, and, with the help of the neighbors who are invited for the purpose, the whole, except the poles for the fence, is rolled into a heap and set on fire.

As soon as the land is cleared of all that can be easily removed it is fenced in and ploughed. This last work is very severe, and gives the ploughman and cattle many a rough shake, as the ploughshare, catching in the roots, has constantly to be lifted out of the ground, or to be moved out of the way of the standing stumps. These stumps give the fields a very extraordinary appearance; it takes from six to ten years before they rot away entirely. It sometimes happens that the trees killed by girdling are blown down amongst the growing crops, and the settler has a great deal of trouble in removing them.

The land about Saint’s farm, when not inundated, was very fertile, and required little labor. It produced splendid oaks, black and white hickory, and sassafras, which last, though covering the land with bushes, often grows to a large tree. Creepers of all sorts abounded in the woods, amongst which were three sorts of wild vines, the first producing a purple summer grape, which ripens in July, and resembles the cultivated grape, except in being smaller and somewhat sour; the second, winter grapes, also dark, and not ripe till they have been touched by the frost, – properly speaking it is not a grape, and the berry is more like a currant; last and best are the muscadines. These do not grow in bunches, but more like cherries, four or five on a stem; they are purple, with a thick skin, and a very agreeable taste, but if indulged in too freely, they are said to produce ague, an opinion in which I agree. Indeed, some of my attacks must be laid to their account; quantities of muscadines grew where we were at work, and I ate a great many of them. They ripen in September, and when they fall, they are greedily sought for by pigs, bears, opossums, raccoons, and turkeys.

As we had had hard work for some days, I resolved on taking a holiday, and riding to the gunsmith’s, about twelve miles off, to get some repairs to my rifle. When I awoke in the morning, I had a dreadful head-ache, but I got up, and mounted the horse, hoping to drive away the pain with the fresh morning air. I had hardly gone a mile, when I was seized with such a giddiness, that I could with difficulty keep my seat. I galloped back as fast as possible, and crept shivering under my buffalo-skin, but the ague crept in with me and kept me there all that day and night. The next morning I was so much worse, that I thought my last hour was approaching. I took one of the emetics I had brought with me from Cincinnati, but without effect; the fever changed from cold to hot, and increased every hour. On the nights of the 16th and 17th of September, I was delirious; what I may have said I know not, as they told me that I spoke German.

Saint could not procure a doctor. The nearest lived twenty miles off, and was seldom at home: this probably saved my life, for had I fallen into the hands of one of these American quacks, I might have prepared for my last journey. Saint happened to have some pills in the house, made by J. Sappington, and gave me one. Whether it was from the pill, or my own good constitution, I was better on the 18th, and could move about the house, and enjoy a little food, after my four days’ fast; I was very weak for a long time. I must ever remember with gratitude the kind interest with which these worthy Americans attended and nursed the poor stranger.

It was by no means agreeable to remain ill in the swamps, having shortly before heard accounts of burials, which left it out of all doubt that some of the poor creatures supposed to be dead had been buried alive. Mrs. S. spoke of one case in particular, on the St. Francis river, where the ground was so wet and swampy, that the man’s comrades, for they were out on a shooting excursion, put the body into a canoe, and brought it down to the place where the Saints then lived, and where the land was dry. On account of the greater heat in the southern States, they do not stand on so much ceremony with a dead body, as is the case in the north: so, as soon as they could after landing, they placed it in a grave, which they dug with the assistance of the inhabitants of the place. Mrs. S. assured me that she had never seen such a corpse. His limbs were quite pliant, and almost warm, and his cheeks still red; but the cold earth soon covered him, and nothing was ever said on the subject.

By the 29th September I was pretty well again, and helped S. to get in the corn from the more distant field; but as it came on to rain, I was none the better for it. On the first October an old man from Tennessee came with his son to the marshes to buy cattle. We mounted to drive them together that they might see them, for at this season, when the grass is everywhere in abundance, the beasts do not remain in one place, but are one day here, the next day there. There cannot be a better place in the world for cattle than the marshes. In summer the woods are filled with pea-vine as high as the knees, as well as with the finest grass, wild oats, and wild rye; in the winter the evergreen canebrakes afford the finest pasture for cattle and deer, and winter grass grows in many parts of the marshes.

We worked our way through thorns and creepers, reeds and forests, and almost impenetrable sassafras bushes, and came back without having seen a single horn. One of the consequences was that I was again laid up, but this time I had a companion in the young stranger, who had thus to pay his footing in the swamps. On the second day he was so ill that his life was despaired of; but at last he recovered.

On the 7th October I rode for the sake of exercise, towards a settlement about twelve miles off. It began to get dark when I reached the house of a Mrs. Lane, who seeing me look so wretched and worn, kindly invited me to rest there. Mrs. Lane might be held up as a good specimen of American women. She was very simply dressed, but in good taste, and every thing in the house, where she lived with her two daughters, remarkably pretty girls, was scrupulously neat and clean.

They listened with pleasure to my accounts of distant Europe, the sort of life people led there, the luxury of the rich and the misery of the poor, particularly in large towns, the general fondness for society, and the good qualities of many of all stations, high and low; they shook their heads and said, “The other side of the great ocean must be a curious place!” It was late when I rolled myself in a blanket before the fire, to sleep sweetly and calmly during the night. In the morning my headache returned, and shivering limbs announced the enemy. There was no time for delay; I buckled the girths with trembling hands, and went in to take leave: the kind folks had some hot coffee ready for me, which might delay but could not prevent the attack. I went on about three miles to the smithy, and explained my wishes, and then turned the horse’s head toward the house of Mr. Dunn: how I got there is more than I can say, – I have a faint remembrance of a piercing headache, and dreadful weakness – that I often lay upon the horse’s neck, when the gentle animal stood still, and did not move till I could sit upright again. Dunn’s house was about three miles from the smith’s; on arriving, I slipped off rather than dismounted. The old man soon saw what was the matter with me, and bringing out a glass of some green liquid, he made me take a good gulp of it: its excessive bitterness seemed to cut me in two, and I asked with horror what was the stuff he had given me. He laughed at the face I made, and told me it was something quite new and his own invention: it was bear’s gall and whiskey, and he was not a little proud of his medicine. I slept well during the night, and returned to S.’s next day. I was very sorry not to have been in better condition on the evening that I passed at Dunn’s, for he was a good old fellow, and very amusing with his dry stories.

On the evening of the 18th October, S. came back from Strong’s, where he had bought a couple of negro children, and brought them home on a led horse. One was a boy about fifteen years old, as black as pitch, and with a regular Ethiopian cast of countenance; as he crossed the threshold, he examined every one present, with a rapid glance of his large dark eyes, and then looked unconcernedly at all the furniture, &c., as if all that was of no consequence to him. The other was a little girl of about eleven, who seemed already to have gone through some hard work. When she saw so many strange faces, a tear glittered in her eyes: she had been sold away from her parents, whom she would probably never more behold, and stood an image of suppressed grief. The boy was from Maryland, had been taken by sea to New Orleans, and from thence brought here. He had been told that he had fallen to a kind master, and his countenance seemed to say that was enough, happen what might.

On the following Sunday, I had another attack of ague, which I could not shake off for some days. In the evening two strangers arrived; and although they came from opposite directions, they seemed to be well acquainted, as they frequently conversed in a whisper. After supper, when we were in the second house, where we all slept, they consulted together about their future plans, which consisted in no less than their travelling about the country, and keeping a gaming table, pretending all the while to be unknown to each other, and so playing into each other’s hands: their designs were to be principally carried on among the Indians, particularly the Cherokees, as they thought they were more easily cheated than the whites. But perhaps the two scoundrels had not been able to agree, for on the following morning they parted, one of them passing off a false five-dollar note on S., who was not a little annoyed when he some time afterwards made the discovery. I was about to ride in the same direction that the other fellow took, and when he saw my horse saddled, he expressed his delight at having the pleasure of my company; but I said dryly: “I am not going to ride with a scoundrel.” At the word “scoundrel,” he flew into a rage, and began to feel for his knife or pistol, on which I quietly brought my rifle to my shoulder: he bit his lip and rode off at a sharp trot. After waiting a short time I followed, taking the route to Cash river to bring home some dogs, for S. and I saw nothing more of him.

Arkansas was overrun at this time with a number of bad characters, gamblers, drunkards, thieves, murderers, who all thought that the simple-minded backwoodsmen were easier to be cheated than the wary settlers in the older states. This circumstance had given so bad a name to Arkansas, that many thought all its inhabitants went about armed to the teeth with pistols and bowie-knives; but I have traversed the State in all directions, and met with as honest and upright people as are to be found in any other part of the Union.

On the 24th October, two heavily laden carts arrived, each drawn by one horse: they contained all sorts of things useful for settlers. Their owners are called peddlers, and they ask high prices for their goods, and are said to make a good thing of it. S. bought only a few trifles.

S. having sold most of his cattle, decided on parting with this farm, and removing to Oiltrove bottom. Our contract having been dissolved by Uhl’s departure and my frequent sickness, was no longer to be thought of. Preparations were made for moving; S. had been already to White river and made his purchase. When about to start, we found that two more oxen were necessary: we had four, but the load was too heavy with such soft boggy roads. So we rode into the woods, and drove a couple of wild bulls into the inclosure, threw nooses over their horns, and fastened them to trees. They made tremendous efforts to free themselves, jerking the leather thongs with all their force; and when they found all their struggles were in vain, they threw themselves on the ground and bellowed with rage. Thus they remained all the day and night, during which we gave them nothing but a little water to quench their thirst. About nine o’clock next morning they were yoked each with a steady old hand; the whips cracked, voices shouted, and partly from the shower of blows that fell on them, partly dragged along by their stout companions, after four or five hours’ useless opposition, they went as well as if they had done nothing all their lives but draw a cart.

The heavy wagon made slow progress along the muddy tracts, softened by the autumnal rains. We arrived at White river on the morning of the 4th November, and had to wait on the bank till evening, as it was blowing a storm, and it would have been dangerous to trust the heavy wagon to the ferry-boat in such weather.

White river is beyond all dispute the most beautiful river of Arkansas. Its clear waves form a striking contrast to those of the Mississippi and Red river; only towards its mouth the banks are low, and the land swampy; higher up it is enclosed by picturesque hills. It rises in the Ozark mountains, in the north-west angle of the State, where there is game in abundance; it divides into two arms, one of which falls into the Mississippi, and the other into the Arkansas.

As the wind fell, the dry cold air changed into a damp fog, which soon turned to rain, and we were glad to find shelter under the roof of a free negro, who kept a sort of tavern. Merry peals of laughter resounded from the well-lighted room, where a bright fire was blazing, and very comfortable did its warmth appear to us after our exposure to the weather. Three jovial looking fellows were sitting round it, telling stories, and roaring with laughter. Three long American rifles, with their shot-belts hanging on them, leaning in a corner, showed that the party, if not regular woodsmen, were at least out on a shooting excursion. A half empty whiskey-bottle stood on the table, and after a short conversation, I learnt that the little fat man, with sparkling eyes and ruby nose, sitting enjoying himself in the corner, and making constant love to the whiskey-bottle, was Magnus the distiller, who, with a couple of friends, was on his way to the swamps from whence we came, for the sake of buffalo hunting. The little man drank my health, and amused me very much with his drolleries. He could think of nothing but buffaloes, swore only by buffaloes, made bets in buffalo-skins, estimated every thing by their value, and tormented the small modicum of understanding which the whiskey had left in his brains, to devise how he should be able to transport at the greatest advantage the skins of all the buffaloes he meant to kill.