Wild Sports In The Far West

The next morning found us cheerful and refreshed, and, as hungry as lions, we started off, in the hope of making a prize of a deer; but a farmer told us that this was not the right season for them, and we were glad to enter a house and satiate our appetites with bacon and maize bread. The information we obtained about the game was not very encouraging; they all seek shelter in the thickest coppices, or among the reeds to avoid the flies and mosquitoes, which persecute the poor creatures incessantly; but we could not now change our plans, so marched steadfastly on. The farmers were quite right; we did not see any deer, or any traces of them; a poor partridge, perched on a tree, as is customary with the American partridges, and looking at us with inquiring eyes, was our only sport.

In the afternoon the sky became covered with dark clouds, to our great delight, because it made the air so much cooler. In the evening we saw the first turkey. He was crossing our path, and stood still when he saw us: Uhl fired and missed; so our turkey made his bow and departed.

Heavy rain came on with the night, and we were very glad to find an old deserted house, where at least we could keep ourselves dry. We made a glorious fire, and the rain holding up for a short time, we washed our clothes, which soon dried by the blaze we had made. We then broiled the partridge in the iron spoon that we carried with us for melting lead, sprinkled it with powder for want of salt, and discussed it under the mournful feeling of “only one bird for two men.”

The next morning brought with it better weather, and an excessively bad road, the rain having all but destroyed it; a few miles from our night’s quarters we came to a house, in which we could at least satisfy our hunger. As the roads were so bad, we decided on leaving our heavy articles here for a time while we went in search of game. But game seemed to have vanished entirely; we traversed the forest in all directions in vain: we only saw a few turkeys, and these were too shy to let us come within shot. We took up stations to watch for them in the night, but without seeing any thing, and returned disappointed and tired to the house.

Greater misfortune awaited me next day. Continuing our route, we came on the fresh trail of a bear, and eagerly followed it, but the wood was so thick and our packs so inconvenient that we were obliged to give it up. On returning to the path, I was in the act of springing over a pool, when my foot catching in one of the numerous creepers that cover the ground, I was thrown, and broke the stock of my rifle, besides cutting my under lip and loosening some of my teeth: I secured my rifle as well as I could with my pocket handkerchief, and went on vexed and out of tune.

About ten o’clock in the morning, the sun began to dart his hot rays upon us rather more fiercely than we thought agreeable; we resolved to enter the first house we came to, till the great heat of the day was passed. It happened to be inhabited by an elderly widow and her sons; while we were conversing together I observed one of the boys fishing in a little flowing stream, pulling up prizes as fast as he could. The lucky fisherman excited my curiosity; I went to see what he was catching, and could hardly believe my eyes when I found that they were crawfish. So long was it since I had tasted them, that they made my mouth water; I soon got my fish-hook to work, and in the course of half an hour Uhl and I with two of the boys had caught half a pailful. The old lady looked at us with astonishment as we seized a saucepan, put in the crawfish with a little salt, filled it up with water, and set it on the fire; they had always thought them only fit for bait. The crawfish soon began to show their red noses, and, when done, we set to work on them. The meal itself was no slight treat, but our enjoyment was much heightened by watching the countenances of the Americans, expressive half of merriment, half of disgust, for they had never dreamt that people could eat such nasty animals with such a zest.

When the trees made long shadows we took a friendly leave of these kind folks, and set off towards the west. About ten o’clock we came to Blackfish lake, which we had to cross. There was a house on the bank, where the ferryman lived; but everybody seemed fast asleep – so we lighted our fire close to the lake, and, covering ourselves well in our buffalo skin and blanket, we slept soundly till the morning in spite of the mosquitoes who were humming furiously above us.

On the 22nd May we were stirring at daybreak; and who would not have been so, after sleeping in the open air in a southern climate, surrounded by mosquitoes, which by the first glimmer of light collect all their forces to attack more ferociously than ever? We roused the ferryman, who told us of an unexpected swamp, which it would be impossible for us to get through with such a weight of baggage. I had heard the word impossible too often, to have much respect for it, it being frequently applied to things that afterwards were proved to be very possible; however, a swamp ten miles long did not sound pleasant. We had to beg hard and pay high for a morsel of bread to quiet our appetite, the man declaring that he had nothing else for himself.

Blackfish lake is a desolate, melancholy-looking, coffee-colored piece of water, several miles long, and some hundreds of yards wide, and its gloom is increased by overhanging cypresses. It is said to be full of snakes and other reptiles. Arrived on the opposite side, we had not to look out long for the swamp. It was straight before our eyes. In point of fact, the whole land we had passed through was very like a swamp, but hitherto there had been a broad chaussée, running in a direct line through the State of Arkansas, from east to west, from Memphis, in Tennessee, to Batesville; but on the west bank of Blackfish lake it was not yet cut through the forest, nor raised above the swamp. We were now to enter the recesses of the primeval forest. And what a forest! and what a journey! A load of from sixty to seventy pounds on our shoulders, soft mud under our feet, the heat of the sun increasing, the swamp giving out a hot suffocating air! Such was our enviable position. We had hardly worked our way for a quarter of a mile through mud and thorns, when we were obliged to sit down and rest; but rest was also a torment; there was not a breath of wind to refresh us, and the moment we stopped millions of mosquitoes attacked us. The water was lukewarm, and we had to suck it up from pools covered with slime. If we left the regular path, which was the most muddy, and tried a short cut through the wood, we were caught at every step by the thorns and creepers, which in many places were impenetrable. In spite of all, we were not discouraged, but went on as well as we could, floundering and resting alternately. After a time, while taking a short repose, we heard the strokes of an axe – a heavenly sound to our ears. We laid aside our burdens, and Uhl followed the direction of the sound, to discover what unfortunate child of man was thinking of settling in such a swamp. He soon came back, and called to me to take up the packages and come along, for he had found some charming people; and we both worked our way through the almost impervious thicket to these strangers.

They were a family from Tennessee, who had halted to dine. The group consisted of the father, a large, strong built man, upon whom time was just beginning to set his wrinkles, his wife, also formed on a large scale, two sons, of fifteen and ten, and three daughters, from twelve to seven. A horse and pair of oxen were feeding quietly near them, and two large dogs were hid under the two carts, one of which was for baggage, the other, rather lighter, for the wife and children. The dogs, anxiously looking out for their food, advanced as near as their ropes would allow to the table-cloth, which was spread out on a dry place. Maize-bread and butter, pork, cheese, and coffee were the ingredients of the meal; and, after a kindly greeting, and a hearty invitation from the seniors, we were soon all in our places, in Turkish attitudes, round the table-cloth. The children had kindled fires all round us, laying on rotten wood, there being no scarcity of it, so that we were sheltered by a thick smoke, which these tormenting demons cannot bear. Thus we were left in tolerable repose.

Uhl and I did not disgrace our German lineage in regard to the provisions, and after the greater part of them had disappeared, we set off again on our journey, taking a cordial farewell of our hospitable friends; and footmarks, of from eighteen inches to two feet deep impressed in the soft mud, and rapidly filling with water, soon showed that two pair of German boots had passed that way. At length, when the sun had descended below the tops of the trees, and was glowing like a fiery red ball above the horizon, after the greatest exertions, we approached the termination of our amphibious walk. The forest opened a little, and we caught sight of a block-house standing on dry ground. We decided on making a short stay here at all events, to recover from our fatigue, and to clean and wash our clothes.

On the next morning I awoke with an excessive itching in my face and right shoulder, and found, to my no slight astonishment, that both parts were much swelled, and covered with small blisters. An American, who dwelt a few hundred paces from the house, and who probably came to see us and pick up any news, soon cleared up the mystery. A great many of the creepers and shrubs in the swamps have a milk-white sap, which is poisonous, and it is likely that I may have broken some of them, and my face and shoulder may have been smeared with this sap. Wet and cold applications are considered the best cure. I accordingly surrendered myself to such treatment, first rubbing my face well with pork fat, as an antidote to the poison. I must have cut a pretty figure with my swollen, blistered, shining face. Uhl nearly killed himself with laughing at me.

In the evening, some mule drivers from Texas came in, having pitched their camp not far from the house. They consisted of three whites, and two Cherokees. One of the Indians spoke English very well, and I had a long conversation with him. He had adopted all the habits of the whites, although he did not seem to have much love for them. I went to bed late, and dreamed of Indians and buffalo hunts.

All next day I was obliged to remain quiet, on account of my swelled face, and was rewarded for my patience by being nearly well by the evening. As the baggage we had hitherto carried was too heavy, we resolved to leave some of it with these people till we saw what was likely to become of us. We had neither of us any settled plan. Our mutual wish had only been freedom and the forest, rightly conjecturing that all the rest would come of itself.

As on the second day we continued our journey a great deal lighter, and with renewed strength. After several miles walk we came to a smithy, where, luckily, I could get my gun repaired, otherwise I should not have been able to shoot. This smithy was at a Mr. Strong’s plantation, where the road branches off to Little Rock, and to Batesville. We were undecided which to take, when we were told that we should find much more game on the road to Batesville. This settled the point. We waited till the cool of the evening to resume our march. While the smith was repairing my gun, the Tennessee man, with his family, arrived from the marsh. He had been three days and three nights coming the ten miles, and even now it is a riddle to me how he managed it.

On the evening of the 26th of May, after a rich feast on the quantities of blackberries which grew by the way, we came to a house belonging to a man of the name of Saint, and decided on staying there to sleep; we found a better set of people than we had expected, and engaged in a long conversation with our host. After supper, to our no small horror we learnt that unless we could swim twenty-eight miles, further progress was not to be thought of, as the whole swamp between this and White river was under water. Uhl and I looked at each other, with long faces, as much as to say, “quid faciamus nos;” but Saint was good enough to invite us to stay with him till the swamp had somewhat dried up, which at least would be about the middle of July; meantime we could go out shooting, and the game we brought home would well repay him for all our expenses.

This, of course, was grist to our mill, and we soon made ourselves at home. On the following morning, almost before we were settled, we went to the forest with our host, a keen sportsman, to look for bears, taking seven dogs with us. And what a country he took us to! Swamps and thorns, creepers, wild vines, fallen trees, half or entirely rotted, deep and muddy water-courses, bushes so thick that you could hardly stick a knife into them, and, to complete the enjoyment, clouds of mosquitoes and gnats, not to mention snakes lying about on the edges of the water-courses; such is the aboriginal American forest, and in such a scene we commenced our sport.

After an hour or two, the dogs started a young bear, and followed him in full cry, but had not gone far when they were stopped by the river l’Anguille, or, as they call it here, the Langee; neither coaxing nor threats could induce them to take to the water, and Saint thought that if one of us swam over, the dogs would follow, and that we should find the trail again on the other side. Saint could not swim, Uhl would not: so I threw off my clothes, and plunged in. The river, which in summer is very shallow, and hardly seems to flow, was now much swollen, and had overflowed its banks. As soon as I had swam some distance, Saint began to cheer on the dogs, and I soon heard them spring into the water, one after the other, and follow me. I was swimming slowly with long strokes, and had reached about the middle of the river, when I heard two of the dogs close behind me, while Saint was still cheering them on from the bank, as if to attack a bear. The two near me were barking furiously, and the thought flashed upon me: suppose they were to seize me? If only one had attacked me, all the rest would have joined, and as they were strangers to me, if they had fallen upon me I should have had no chance: so I began to strike out as hard and as fast as I could to reach the shore. Exerting myself for my life, I came nearer and nearer the bank, but the excited dogs swam faster still, and I heard the snorting of one of them close to me when I felt the ground: in an instant I and the dogs were both on shore. The danger was over now, and they began to hunt; but either the bear had followed the stream, and landed lower down, or the ground was too wet for the scent; in short, we could not find the trail. We tried our luck at another place, with no more success, and returned home towards evening quite tired and out of spirits.

Our hosts to all appearance were very religious people, and we had prayers every evening. This evening we went early to bed, being all very tired, so that, as yet, I hardly had time to take much notice of the people we were to live with. We had to be awakened for breakfast; afterwards we strolled about the house and fields to realize our situation. Saint was a man of about forty, with a bright clear eye, and open brow; you were captivated by him at the very first sight. His wife, an Irishwoman, treated us very civilly and kindly, and proved to be an excellent manager. They had no children; but there was another person in the house, who demands a more particular description. This was a duodecimo Irish shoemaker, or, as he always insisted – schoolmaster, for such, by his own account, was his former occupation, though now he made shoes. Saint had bought a quantity of leather, and the little Irishman was to work it up, receiving a certain monthly sum. He had red hair, was pock-marked, stood about five feet, but was stout and strongly built, and may have been about fifty years old. He spoke unwillingly about his age, wishing to pass for much younger. Saint, who loved to joke with him, told us, with a smile, that on Sunday we should see him in his best, when he would go to pay his court to a young widow in the neighborhood.

The house was built of logs, roughly cut. It consisted of two ordinary houses, under one roof, with a passage between them open to north and south, a nice cool place to eat or sleep in during summer. Like all block-houses of this sort, it was roofed with rough four-feet planks; there were no windows, but in each house a good fireplace of clay. A field of about five acres was in front of the house, planted with Indian corn, excepting a small portion which was planted with wheat. Southwest from the house stood the stable, which S. was obliged to build, because he gave “good accommodation to man and horse;” otherwise it is not much the custom in Arkansas to trouble one’s self about stables. A place, called a “lot,” with a high fence, is used for the horses, hollowed trees serving for mangers. Near at hand was a smaller log-house for the store of Indian corn, and a couple of hundred paces further was a mill which S. had built to grind such corn as he wanted for his own use, and which was worked by one horse.

About a quarter of a mile from the house, through the wood, there was another field of about five acres, also sown with maize. The river l’Anguille flowed close in the rear of the house; another small building at the back of the dwelling was used as a smoking house; near it was a well about thirty-two feet deep.

We went out shooting and wandering through the woods all day long, though with little sport. Uhl had had better luck than I, so being firmly resolved to bring home something, I had been straying in the forest from daybreak, when at last I saw a deer. Firing too eagerly I took bad aim, and he fled with long bounds to the thicket; but red marks on the leaves showed that he was hit. I followed the trail; – but without a dog it was slow work, and then the increasing darkness convinced me of the impossibility of finding either the deer or the way back to the house, being as yet too unacquainted with the country to be able to find my way by the stars.

I was soon comfortably stretched by a blazing fire, and should have done very well, but for the stomach, that constant tormentor, who kept reminding me that he had had no work to do since the morning, except to consume a few insignificant green sassafras leaves. The night was beautiful, the stars shining brilliantly, and the weather fortunately too cool for mosquitoes. I soon slept quietly and comfortably till about midnight, when I was awakened by the disagreeable howling of the wolves; it seemed as if they had all assembled to give me a serenade; if so, the poor beasts had a very ungrateful audience. During the interval, the sharp roar of a panther was heard rather too close to my lair. Such a neighbor was by no means desirable or trustworthy; so I fired in the direction whence I heard the sound, and he flew back again to the jungle. I now made up my fire afresh, and was soon asleep for the second time.

When I awoke the sun was peeping through the branches. Shaking my limbs, which were stiff with cold, I commenced my journey homewards, endeavoring to shorten the way by thoughts of a good warm breakfast.

S. had for some days talked of cutting down a tree, in which he had discovered a swarm of wild bees, but something had always happened to hinder it; however, on the first of June we set off at daybreak on our long talked of excursion, the party being increased by S.’s brother-in-law. The two Americans took axes, while Uhl and I carried pails to hold the honey we expected to find. We proceeded to a little prairie about three miles off, and soon found the tree, which S. had discovered and marked. It is a backwoods custom, when any one finds a tree with wild bees, and has not time or inclination to cut it down at once, to cut his name, or if he cannot write, as was the case with S., to make his mark on it, and if any one else finds the tree and sees the mark, he goes on his way, leaving it to the first finder.

S.’s tree was a decayed red oak, on the verge of the little prairie. The two axes, wielded by powerful and skilful arms, soon made the old tree totter, and then fall with a crash. In the mean time I had lighted a fire by S.’s directions, laid it on a piece of bark, and covered it with rotten wood, so that it gave out a thick black smoke. As soon as the tree was down, I held this under the opening where the bees went in and out: stupefied by the smoke, they flew high into the air, never attempting to sting, though several flew about me, and lighted on my clothes. Our trouble did not go unrewarded; we found a pretty thick bough full of honey, of which we ate as much as we wished, carrying home the rest.

S. seemed to be pleased with us, for he asked us to remain with him to look after his cattle, of which he had about two hundred head running loose in the woods; we might take our rifles and shoot at the same time. As this seemed to suit our plans, we took the subject into serious consideration, and on Monday, June 3rd, made the following compact. We agreed to undertake the charge of S.’s cattle, to give them salt in the little prairie from time to time, where a tent was to be pitched for us, and whither we were frequently to drive them, to accustom them to it. We were to receive one-third of the produce, namely: every third calf, as our property. S. bound himself to provide us with pork, flour, coffee, sugar, and salt; also, as soon as he had time, to build a small house for us in place of the tent. So far so good; but the final clause was a jewel, and the Irish schoolmaster who drew up the bond was not a little vain of his performance. It stated: “Neither of the undersigned parties is bound by this contract, if any one of them should think that he could do better elsewhere.” The important document was signed by both parties, S. making a cross, and then it was carefully secured in S.’s strong box, the Irishman putting the copy in his pocket, probably to show the widow this specimen of his abilities. We shouldered our rifles, and trotted off to reconnoitre our new province.

Uhl and I having separated, I shot a young deer, but as it was too heavy to carry, I let it lie, and took a direct line towards home, marking the trees with my tomahawk as I went along. Suddenly a hen turkey flew up; before I could fire she was lost in the bushes, but right under my feet lay nine beautiful eggs, in a nest made of dry grass. I sat down to await the return of the hen, but as she did not choose to make her appearance, I took up the eggs and carried them home, intending to rear them; then I went with a horse to pick up my deer.

Having signed the agreement with S., and decided on remaining here some time, it was necessary to fetch our things, which we had left at Blackfish lake, and S. kindly offered us one of his horses for the purpose; but the horses were running wild in the woods, and had to be caught. Uhl and I set off to catch one, taking different directions; we searched the whole day without seeing a single trail, and our endeavors on the following day were just as unfortunate. At first we hunted together, but afterwards again separated. I went pacing along one of the paths that cross the wood in all directions, but soon found that it was only a deer or cow path; I left it, and pushed on in a straight direction, careless as to the line of country, so that I could only fall in with a horse; and as to the night, sleeping under the green trees was more agreeable than in a close room. The idea that I might lose myself never occurred to me. At length, however, as I advanced, the scenery assumed a different character to that in S.’s neighborhood. It was no longer marshy, but the ground was undulating, and I once more saw fir-trees, which I had lately so much longed for. Contrary to my expectations, I arrived at a farm before dark, but could obtain no information about the horses – no one had seen any – and on my asking how far I was from S.’s farm, I received the agreeable answer, “At least eleven miles;” rather too far for an evening’s walk – so the good folks kindly asked me to pass the night with them. I placed my gun and cap in a corner, and seated myself with them in the mild evening air; we struck up an agreeable conversation, and I fully expected a very pleasant evening; but a storm was brewing to disturb its serenity. We had not long been seated when a tall, ceremonious, respectable looking man, buttoned to the chin in a long brown coat, arrived. He saluted us rather solemnly, then seating himself at a short distance, took a little book from his pocket, turned over the leaves, and, before I suspected any thing, he thundered out a hymn with a voice that astounded me. Not being used to such a proceeding, I looked first at one then at the other for some explanation, but they kept their eyes fixed on the ground, looking very solemn all the time. The voice of the singer became louder and louder. The good man seemed to have lost the end of his song; night came on, and it was rather cold – still he kept on, until at last his voice failed, and he was obliged to stop. I thought this was all, but more people arrived, among them some very pretty young women, such as I never expected to see in the wilderness. The air being cool and damp, we entered the house, which was set out with benches, and looked like a school-room. The case was clear – I had stumbled on a Methodist meeting, and must take the consequences. The singing and praying lasted several hours, and I was heartily tired of it, as it did not agree with my habits and feelings.