Wild Sports In The Far West

We rose at daybreak, and following different routes, appointed a rendezvous at Curly’s, as we did not mean to make a long affair of it. Bad luck seemed to stick to us, for though we found plenty of trails, we saw no game. At length Bearsgrease found a fresh trail, and followed it up, often looking round to see if I was near him; so I kept as close as possible. Suddenly he stood still and pointed, and an old buck got up about fifty yards from us, and made a half circle round us. When I gave a hail, he stood still as if to ask what I wanted. It happened that I was to windward of him; and snuffing the air he gave a bound, which caused my ball to strike too far backwards under his spine, bringing him on his haunches. Bearsgrease had been observing it all with remarkable patience, only turning his head from one to the other; – but now giving vent to his eagerness he darted on the deer, seized him by the jaw, and springing over his back, brought him to the ground. I had now a good opportunity of cutting the deer’s throat, but wished to give the dog a little practice, and I watched the struggle with the greatest interest. The buck was one of twelve branches, and had the full use of the forepart of his body. He strove to hit the dog with his sharp hoof, and to run his horns into him; but the dog cleverly eluded all his attempts, and at last seizing him by the throat, held him fast, while I ended his torments with my knife.

As Slowtrap had assured me that he would be ready to make the long-expected journey in a few days, I would not delay. I skinned the deer, packed the two haunches in the skin, fed the dog, and trudged away heavily laden up and down hill to Curly’s house.

Slowtrap was not ready. It was quite out of his character to be hurried. I saw no end of his awful procrastination; yet there was nothing left for it but patience. On my arrival, he was busy making a sledge to draw wood, that his wife might have enough for several weeks; this was no trifle, considering what enormous logs were consumed in these fireplaces.

The next day was a washing-day – and a washing-day in most places, and in Arkansas in particular, is an awful thing to a man whether married or not. Curly’s young wife and sister had volunteered to assist, and to me was deputed the honor of escorting them; I buckled a blanket on the horse, and rode over, but as all three could not find room at once, I had to make two trips. All the American women are good riders. Curly’s wife jumped up lightly behind me, and held on by my belt. Away we went at a gallop through the foaming though shallow river and thick forest, to Slowtrap’s house, where having safely deposited my charge, I hastened back for the sister. I had now to think of my own safety, as it would have been foolhardiness to have remained near three women on a washing-day. Being tired from yesterday’s exertions, to take a long walk, I decided on shooting wild-fowl; so seizing S.’s long rifle with a hundred balls to the pound, I sauntered down to Porter’s Creek. The number of ducks was astounding. I lay down in a quiet shady place, and only fired when a good opportunity offered, Bearsgrease securing the prize. To be sure he frightened the others away, but only for a time; they soon returned, and by the evening I had bagged thirteen.

The two next days were wet and disagreeable. All we could do was to cut and stack wood. When the sun again shone through the clouds on the moist smoking ground, it was the 12th of December, and I went again over to Curly’s to shoot another deer before the journey, if possible. Old Collmar was there and a young man of the name of Martin, who was rather eccentric; he was about twenty-five, and had not a single hair on his head. He used to tell extraordinary stories as to the cause of his baldness, in which he frequently got confused, when he would start up, rush out of the house, and never show himself again the whole day. Sometimes when he was engaged to work, he would steal away, leaving his wages, and sometimes his clothes. We gained from him, that he had married a wooden-legged woman in Illinois, and had left her there; but he told it in such a way that we doubted its truth. He told the most absurd stories of what he had seen and experienced, and flew into the most violent passions if the least doubt was manifested. Thus passed the afternoon. When it was dark C. and I took our firepan to try our luck once more. We went southwards towards the hills, in the first instance, and then turned to the westward, the stars shining brightly; but gradually thick clouds began to appear, and some flashes of lightning were visible. We continued walking in the same direction without seeing any deer, and may have gone on about three quarters of an hour when we came to a clearing. Looking upwards to find our way by the stars, we saw, to our horror, that the whole sky was one mass of black clouds. I had now left my compass at home, the wind blew in violent gusts, and thunder in the distance kindly gave us notice that a storm was approaching.

Nothing is easier than to lose one’s way in the forest by torchlight; for the fire lights up only a few paces around, giving a peculiar appearance to the trees, and all beyond thirty yards is the blackest darkness, and all points of the compass look alike. I now recollected that when I last carried the pan (for we took it in turns), I had observed it was lightning under the north star, which was not then covered by clouds, and we concluded that the storm must have advanced towards the east. A heavy clap of thunder informed us that we had no time to lose; so we beat our retreat, keeping the lightning on the left hand. We may have been about two miles from Curly’s house; the lightning came quicker and brighter, the thunder louder, and we fled like two ghosts with our waving flame, when by one of the flashes Curly distinguished the roof of his abode; we hastened to it as fast as our legs would carry us, dashed in, and fastened the door, just as the hail came down as if it was trying to split every plank on the roof. As we looked at each other we broke into such an immoderate fit of laughter, that we could scarcely recover ourselves. The noise of our arrival, the thunder, hail, and our loud laugh awoke all the inmates. Martin’s handkerchief, which he wore at night to cover his pate, had slipped off, and his queer appearance, as he looked at us with astonishment, set us off laughing again.

Meantime the hail gave place to heavy rain; but “savage tyrants reign not long,” and presently the beauteous stars looked down quite cheerily upon us.

Storms are frequent in Arkansas, and occasionally hurricanes, which will sweep a district of a mile in width and several miles in length, levelling every thing in their path. After a time blackberries, thorns, and creepers, grow so luxuriantly over the heaps of fallen trees, as to make the thickets quite impenetrable in many places, offering a secure refuge to bears, &c.

On returning to Slowtrap’s, we began in earnest to make preparations for the long-expected, long-delayed journey. In S.’s good steel mill we ground flour enough to last the family till his return, put our knives and rifles in order, and finally started on the morning of the 19th of December.

It was a bright cold winter’s day, when, with our three dogs bounding about us, we commenced our march; Slowtrap on his nag, which carried, besides, a sack of provisions, our blankets, and my skins, while I stepped out briskly in a hunting-shirt, leggings, and moccasins, an untanned raccoon-skin-cap, and with no pack to carry. S. as he sat on his horse looked as if he must weigh at least twenty stone, his wife had heaped so many clothes on him, while my accoutrements were all of summer stuff; but the exercise prevented me from feeling cold, as we jogged along a small cart-track through the thick forest.

The first part of our journey led through marshes, but we soon reached the hills that divide the “petit Jean” from the “Fourche le Fave,” and with them, dry land. The people of Yell county had selected a spot near the “petit Jean” for a new county seat for the sessions. The infant town consisted of exactly the same number of buildings as Perryville, viz. two houses and a stable. When a town is founded in America, the streets are first marked off, by cutting away a piece of bark from the trees, and boards are nailed up at the corners with the names, such as, Main-street, Second-street, Walnut-street, Elm-street, &c., and sometimes, when in the forest, a man may find that he is in the high street of a town.

If the position of the new-born, newly-christened town be a good one, it grows incredibly fast; in the contrary case, it looks desolate enough – merchants and travellers desert it, houses are left unfinished and fall to pieces, and the court-house, as I once saw near White River, may be turned into a corn-crib.

In Danville, as the town was called, a speculative genius had established a small store, having removed from the Arkansas, about twenty miles off, with a cask of whiskey, and for whiskey or money he bought all skins he could find. He had also powder, lead, coffee, sugar, and lucifer matches; the latter article are wretchedly made in America. I exchanged all my skins for powder, lead, and coffee.

From hence, somewhat lightened, we proceeded to Spring Creek, which is thickly settled, one good farm bordering another, till we passed the water-mill, where they ceased, and we prepared for the night, which looked threatening. We halted by an overthrown pine-tree, unloaded the horse, and gave him some corn, collected firewood, and made a hut. Pine bark lay about in heaps; though worm-eaten in many places, it answered for want of better, and, used in double and treble layers, it made a very respectable sort of shed. When I thought it was finished, being rather tired, I flung myself on the ground; but my companion was not so easily satisfied; he laid on one piece of bark after another, and spread some to keep our limbs from the damp earth, and, whether I wished it or not, I must up and help till he pronounced “That’ll do.” Our simple supper was soon over; he then pulled off his shabby old coat, folded it up carefully, and laid it on his saddle as an extra pillow, spread his blanket on the pine bark with the edge to the fire, so that in lying on it, and covering himself with the other half, he might admit the warmth. After adding a few more logs to the fire, he pulled off his shoes, placing them near him with the soles upwards, that they might not fill with water in case of rain; he hung his socks under the bark roof, to keep them properly warm and dry; then laying himself carefully on his blanket, and covering himself with the other half, he was soon asleep.

I could not sleep, but lay close to the fire, which I kept stirring with a stick, making it crackle, and raising showers of sparks, which were carried by the wind far away into the dark forest, while I gave audience to my various thoughts. At length some pattering drops warned me that it was time to seek shelter in the warm shed.

The rising sun found us again on the march, and nothing remarkable occurred till evening, when we passed an old plum orchard of the Cherokees. It was an unenclosed space, several miles in circumference, thickly covered with bushes from two to six feet high, bearing small, round, very sweet plums, which ripen in August. Similar plum orchards are found in many places near the Arkansas and Mississippi.

We struck the Arkansas before dark, opposite the little town of Pittsburg, and crossed over. As our purses were in a weak condition, we did not enter the town, but lighted a fire on the river’s bank, made a shed of some planks which had been driven on shore, probably from a sunken boat, and were soon well housed. As we had marched quick, and kept in our dogs for fear of losing them, we had seen no game; our provisions were rather low, and henceforth the horse had no further weight to carry than the well-packed, goodly person of my companion, who now and then got off to give me a lift. We husbanded our stores so well, that we had something for supper and breakfast, and to feed the dogs, and laid ourselves comfortably down in our blankets.

Next day we passed along a part of the route by which some years ago a numerous body of eastern Indians, having given up their lands to the United States on condition of receiving other equally good lands in the West, were conducted by the parties who had engaged to provide for them on their journey. Numerous square holes cut in the fallen trees showed where the squaws had pounded their maize to make bread. More melancholy traces were visible in the bones of human beings and animals which were strewed about. Many a warrior and squaw died on the road from exhaustion, and the maladies engendered by their treatment; and their relations and friends could do nothing more for them than fold them in their blankets, and cover them with boughs and bushes, to keep off the vultures, which followed their route by thousands, and soared over their heads; for their drivers would not give them time to dig a grave and bury their dead. The wolves, which also followed at no great distance, soon tore away so frail a covering, and scattered the bones in all directions. This is a sad instance of the abominable haggling spirit so prevalent in America. The government, to avoid trouble, had contracted with individuals for a certain sum, which was quite sufficient to have conveyed the poor Indians comfortably; but they were obliged to part with all they had for bread, selling their rifles and tomahawks, horses going for two and three dollars; and, while they died of hunger and distress, the contractors made a fortune.

About three in the afternoon we reached the Ozark mountains, and passed close by some farm buildings where there were several tame white turkeys. My dog, who was a capital fellow for turkeys, had as yet never seen any but wild, consequently black ones. He gave a side glance or two at them, and then passed on without further notice, until one crossed the road, and he came on the fresh trail, which he followed on the instant; but when he got close to the white bird, he kept first looking at the one, and then smelling at the other, as much as to say, “They don’t agree,” while the turkey walked off with long strides, turning his head from side to side to examine the stranger who was so close at his heels, and whose intentions he rather seemed to doubt. I called off the dog, and we stepped out at a good pace up a narrow ravine by the banks of a mountain stream. Narrow as the ravine was, we found houses in places where no one, at least no reasonable being, could ever have supposed they would have been erected, there being so little arable land near. One place particularly amused me – a turnip field, about sixty paces square, from one corner of which I saw smoke rising. As there was no trace of a building or of a human being to be seen, I was anxious to discover where the smoke came from, and on reaching the corner of the field, I found myself looking straight down a chimney. The house was built in a little hollow in the rock, probably to avoid encroaching on any part of the useful ground. But what could induce people to settle in such a hole, when so much good land was to be had in Arkansas, was more than I could divine.

We now turned to the left, and crossed the first spur towards the summit of the hills that divide the Mulberry from the Arkansas. The ascent was rather steep, but we surmounted it without mishap, and were rewarded with a beautiful view over the country we had passed. While I was seated on a high piece of rock, contemplating the prospect, Slowtrap rolled a large stone to the edge of the declivity; then pushing it over, he set the dogs after it – these hearing the noise, flew in wild haste down the steep. The stone at first moved slowly, but as it gathered way in its descent, it made bounds of twenty and thirty feet, broke off young trees, and went thundering to the bottom in clouds of dust, the dogs still in chase. I did not much like it, fearing they might break their legs or necks. Bearsgrease came back first, crouching and wagging his tail, as if he knew that he had committed an egregious folly. The others returned later, puffing and snorting. S. seemed to have been much amused: he sat comfortably on a rock, with his bridle on his left arm, and looked on without moving a muscle of his countenance.

We had a long march before us. It was ten miles to the nearest house, and we had nothing eatable left, either for ourselves or the horse; it was moreover getting dark. S. said we must keep on the hill for six or seven miles, and then turn down towards the Mulberry to the house.

It grew darker and darker. A narrow unfrequented footpath covered with yellow leaves was our only guide, which I followed up with undivided attention, Slowtrap riding slowly after me. A thin penetrating rain set in with the night; yet, indefatigably, and with my nose nearly on the ground, I kept to the almost invisible path, till about ten o’clock, when I stopped, and told Slowtrap that either the path ended here, or I had missed it; which of the two was the case I could not say. Slowtrap, who had followed patiently without speaking a word, asked if I thought I could find the trail again on retracing my steps. The weather was not favorable for conversation; I shouldered my rifle, went some way back, made a circle, and found a strip of darker ground amongst the leaves. I called out, and my companion came, leading his horse, and said that I might ride, and he would follow up the path, as his eyes were more accustomed to forest work than mine. Tired with the long day’s march, I was not sorry for this, and was soon in the saddle, while Slowtrap, stooping low, preceded me about two hundred paces; but he came to a stand where I had stopped, and said the path ended there. We could not be far from the descent to the Mulberry, for the trees were thinner, and Slowtrap said that if it were not so dark, we might be able to see the whole of its valley. At present nothing was to be seen but our miserable plight.

It is dangerous to lose one’s way in these hills, as precipices occur where least suspected. The rain now fell in torrents, and we were as wet as drowned rats. At length we decided on descending the hill straight before us, lead where it would. It was steep and slippery, and although we led the horse, we were often in danger of falling into one of the steep ravines; we passed so near one that we heard the stones fall to the bottom as they were kicked away by the horse’s feet.

It may have been about eleven o’clock when the dogs gave the first signs of life, by a growl and a low bark. Then the oldest of them, a good old fellow, covered with honorable scars, gave a short howl. It was answered by several dogs in the distance; this inspired us with fresh courage, and we hastened down the hill towards the sound. When the strange dogs left off barking, we easily excited them again by imitating the howl of a wolf. We gained at once the foot of the hill and a mountain stream, and came to a small house, from whence we had heard the bark of the dogs. We entered and obtained shelter, but no hearty welcome.

Next morning, as we were not very well pleased with our host, who did not care about us, and fearing that the rivers we had to cross might swell with rain – an event which soon occurs in the mountains – we left at daylight, and proceeded to a farmer’s, named Davis, about half a mile off on the other side of the river; here we were received kindly and hospitably.

Mr. Davis would by no means allow us to proceed, as it had poured with rain the whole night, and all the brooks were rushing torrents; so, taking charge of our things, he made us sit by the fire, and seemed highly gratified at the pleasure its warmth afforded us. His family were very agreeable, and I was quite sorry to part with them so soon as the next morning; but by that time the waters fell, and Slowtrap was in a hurry to get on. However, it was hard work to get through some of the rivers, especially as we had but one horse. Luckily my companion knew the country too well to expose us to the chance of sleeping again in the forest, and this evening, wet, tired, and half frozen, we arrived at the abode of an old squatter.

This day we had crossed the main range of the “Boston divide,” which parts the waters of the Mulberry from the White river, and found ourselves on the latter, which, here, we could leap across, though further down it is navigated by steamers. The country and vegetation differed considerably from that south of the Arkansas. There was no trace of fir; the mountains were covered with oak, beech, and hickory, all at this season without leaves, which, to an eye accustomed to green hollows, seemed rather mournful and monotonous. It struck me as extraordinary that the best and most fertile land was on the hill tops, where, in other places it is generally the worst; here grew black walnut, wild cherry, with stems sometimes twenty inches in diameter, black locust, and sugar maple, trees which generally grow only in the richest soils. The black locust was very frequent, and its long sharp thorns are by no means pleasant on a journey.

About noon we passed a log house, at the door of which stood a fat red-haired man. When we had passed, Slowtrap told me that, four years ago, that man had bought a clock; and after he had had it two days, he doubted whether all was right inside; so he took it to pieces, and when satisfied, put it together again, and people said that when he had done so, he had wheels enough left for another clock.

It was Christmas eve, and growing dark. My heart sunk as I remembered former joys of this season, and thought of my present loneliness. Strange! that recollections should be so sweet and yet so bitter.

In good time we arrived at old Conwell’s, Slowtrap’s father-in-law. He lived in a block-house, surrounded by mountains covered with trees, close to the bank of the White river, which was narrow enough to be bridged by a tree. The family were assembled round the fire; Conwell himself was absent. A matron of pleasing appearance rose from her seat on the entrance of her son-in-law, and cordially shook his hand, while two fine boys of eleven and eight jumped up to welcome him; another person in the room, a young graceful girl, who at first kept modestly in the background, then came forward to greet her brother-in-law, who addressed her as Sophy; neither was the stranger overlooked, but received a hearty welcome from all. I, who, a few minutes before, had felt so deserted and miserable, now experienced a silent joy, as I looked on the amiable, honorable countenance of the mother, the mild expression of the daughter, and the open, happy faces of the two boys. It was as if I had found new relations, and was once again at home. Never in my life had I felt, from the first moment, so completely domesticated as with these people.

In about half an hour old Conwell came in: if ever uprightness was stamped upon any countenance, it was upon his; his hair was white as snow, but his step was as springy as he moved about in his hunting-shirt, leggins, moccasins, and bare neck, as if he had seen but twenty years. After we had been seated about an hour, it seemed as if I had known him from childhood, and the evening flew past with incredible swiftness.

The cold was very sharp on Christmas-day, and we were delighting in a glorious fire, when John, the youngest boy, ran in, and said there was a large gang of turkeys in the corn. I seized my rifle, called Bearsgrease, and was soon in the field. No sooner had the dog found the scent, than he was amongst them, and they flew to the neighboring trees. I knocked over one, loaded, and tried for another, leaving Bearsgrease to watch the prize, as several pigs were near us. Not being able to get another shot, I returned to the dog, and found him with his paws full of business. Another larger dog had come to have a smell at the turkey; Bearsgrease, mistaking his intentions and my instructions, attacked the stranger, threw him over, and held him fast, with the fiercest countenance in the world; but when he saw me coming he began to wag his tail, being thus, like Janus, severe in front and amicable behind. I released the stranger from his disagreeable position, and patted and soothed Bearsgrease to express my approbation and satisfaction at his good behavior; but he continued to give an occasional growl and scowl at the other dog.

I amused myself for a couple of days with turkey shooting, leaving Slowtrap time to arrange his affairs, when he informed me that he had concluded his business quicker than he had expected, and now meant to return home. This was disagreeable to me for two reasons – first, because he was a very pleasant companion; and, secondly, because he was so well acquainted with the mountains. However, there was no persuading him to remain, and he fixed on the following morning for his departure.