piS THE HIVE LL THE BEE-HUNTER," INCLUDING PECULIAR AMERICAN CHARACTER, SCENERY, AND RURAL SPORTS. JA BY T. B: T H HP E, OF LOUISIANA. AUTHOR or "TOM OWEN, THE BEE-HUNTER ; " "MYSTERIES OF THE BACK- WOODS," ETC. ETC. • ILLUSTRATED £Y SKETCHES FBOM NATURE. NEW-YORK : D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 346 & 34S BROADWAY. LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. M.DCCC.LIV. a'" Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1854, By D. APPLETON & COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New- York. Exchange JiliHPai'y oi Supreme Council A.A»S»I8. Aog lO, 1940 TO THE LOVERS OF NATURE, WHETHER RESIDING IN THE CROWDED CITY, PLEASANT VILLAGE, OR NATIVE WILD, IS CORDIALLY DEDICATED. PREFACE. The " Hive of the Bee-Hunter" has one ob- ject, which the author would impress upon such readers as may honor him with their attention. An effort has been made, in the course of these sketches, to give to those i3ersonally unac- quainted with the scenery of the southwest, some idea of the country, its surface, and vegetation. In these matters, the author has endeavored to be critically correct, indulging in the honest ambition of giving some information, while de- picting the germinating evidences of the great original characters national to these localities. The southwest, with its primeval and evergreen forests, its unbounded prairies, and its many and continuous rivers, presents contributions of nature, which the pilgrims from every land, for the first time, behold with wonder and awe. PREFACE. Here, in their vast interior solitudes^ far re- moved from. trans-Atlantic influences, are alone to be found, in the more comparative infancy of our country, characters truly sui generis — truly American. What man would be, uninfluenced by contact with the varied associations of long civilization, is here partially demonstrated in the denizens of the interior of a mighty continent. The discovery of America, — its vast extent, — and its developing destiny, — present facts, which far surpass the wildest imagery of the dreamers of the olden times. There are growing up, in these primitive wilds, men, whose daily life and conversation, w^hen de- tailed, form exaggerations ; but whose histories are, after all, only the natural developments of the mighty associations which surround them. CONTENTS. FAOB Wild Turkey Hunting 9 Summer Retreat in Arkansas 28 Tom Owen, the Bee-Hunter ..••.. 47 Arrow-Fishing •..••... 54 The Big Bear of Arkansas ...••. 72 The Mississippi 94 Large and Small Steamers on the Mississippi . . 105 Familiar Scenes on the Mississippi . . . . II4 A Storm Scene on the Mississippi . . . , .126 Grizzly Bear-Hunting I35 A Piano in Arkansas ....... 145 Wild-Cat Hunting . I55 Mike Fink, the Keel-Boatman .163 Alligator Killing 184 8 CONTENTS. PAGE Buffalo Hunting 193 Scenes in Buffalo Hunting 213 Woodcock Fire-Hunting 225 The Water Craft of the Back- Woods . . . 232 Place de La Croix . 240 Opossum Hunting , 255 A "Hoosier" in Search of Justice . . . .266 Major Gasden's Story .... . . 2Y1 The Great Four-Mile Day 280 The Way that Americans go down Hill . 802 WILD TURKEY HUNTING. Originally, the wild turkey was found scattered throughout the whole of our continent, its habits only difl'ering, where the peculiarity of the seasons compelled it to provide against excessive cold or heat. In the " clearing," it only lives in its excellent and degenerated descendant of the farm-yard, but in the vast prairies and forests of the " far west," this bird is still abundant, and makes an important addition to the fare of wild life. It is comparatively common on the " frontiers," but every passing year lessens its numbers ; and as their dis- appearance always denotes their death, their extermina- tion is progressive and certain. In Louisiana, Alabama, South Carolina, and other southern states, there are fastnesses, in which they will find support and protection for a long time to come. The swampa and lowlands that offer no present induce- 10 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. ment to " the settler," will shelter them from the rifle ; and in the rich productions of the soil, they find a super- abundance of food. The same obscurity, however, that protects them, leaves the hole of the wildcat in peace ; and this bitter enemy of the turkey, wars upon it, and makes its life one of cunning and care. Nor, is its finely-flavored meat un- appreciated by other destroyers, as the fox often makes the turkey an evening meal, while the weasel contents itself with the little chicks. The nest, however, may have been made, and the young birds may have in peace broken the shell, and frightened at their own piping notes, hidden instinctively away, when the Mississippi will rise, bearing upon its surface the waters of a thou- sand floods, swell within its narrow banks, and overflow the lowlands. The young bird, unable to fly, and too delicate to resist the influence of the wet, sickens and dies. Upon the dryness of the season, therefore, the tur- key-hunter builds his hopes of the plentifulness of the game. Independent of the pernicious influence of unfavora- ble seasons, or the devastation of the wild turkey by destructive animals, their numbers are also annually lessened by the skill of the pioneer and backwoodsman, and in but comparatively a few more years the bird must have, as a denizen of our border settlements, only a tra- ditionary existence ; for the turkey is not migratory in WILD TURKEY HUNTING. H its habits, and its absence from any of its accustomed haunts, is indicative of its total extermination from the place where it was once familiar. At present, the traveller in the " far west," while wending his solitary way through the trackless forests, sometimes very unexpectedly meets a drove of turkeys in his pathway, and when his imagination suddenly warms with the thought that he is near the poultry-yard of some hospitable farmer, and while his wearied limbs seem to labor with extra pain, as he thinks of the couch compared with the cold ground as a resting-place, he hears a sudden whizzing in the air, a confused noise, and his seeming evidences of civilization and comfort vanish as the wild turkey disappears, giving him by their precipitate flight, the most painful evidence that he is far from the haunts of men and home. Turkey hunting is a favorite pursuit with all who can practise it with success, but it is a bird liberally provided by nature with the instinct of self-preservation, and is, therefore, seldom found off its guard. Skilful indeed must be the shot that stops the turkey in its flight of alarm, and yet its wings, as with the partridge and quail, are little used for the purposes of escaping from danger. It is on their speed that they rely for safety, and we doubt if the best hounds could catch them in a race, even if the turkey's wings were clipped so that they could not resort to height to elude their pursuers. So little indeed does the bird depend upon 12 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. its pinions, that they find it difficult to cross rivers moderately wide, and in the attempt the weak and very fat, are often sacrificed. We have seen the wild turkey gathering in troops upon the limb of some tall cotton wood on the banks of the Mississippi, and we have known by their prepara- tions that they intended to cross the river. There on their elevated roost they would set, stretching out their necks as if gathering a long breath for their, to them, prolonged flight. In the mean while, the " squatter," on the opposite bank, would prepare himself to take ad- vantage of the birds' necessities. Judging from expe- rience where about the " drove " would land on his side of the stream, he would lie concealed until the flight commenced. The birds would finally launch themselves in the mid air, as in their progress it could be seen that they constantly descended toward the earth, — the bank would be reached, but numbers exhausted would fail to reach the land, and would fall a prey to the insatiate wave, or the rapacious wants of man. In hunting the wild turkey, there is unfortunately too little excitement to make it a favorite sport with those who follow the hounds. But the uncertainty of meeting with the bird, even if you know its haunts, and the sudden termination of the sport, even if successful, makes successful turkey hunters few and far between. The cautiousness of the wild turkey is extraordinary : it excels that of the deer, or any other game whatever ; WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 13 and nothing but stratagem, and an intimate knowledge of the habits of the bird by the hunter, will command success. We once knew an Indian, celebrated for all wood craft, who made a comfortable living by supplying a frontier town with game. Often did he greet the vil- lagers with loads of venison, with grouse, with bear, but seldom, indeed, did he offer the esteemed turkey for sale. Upon being reproached for his seeming incapacity to kill the turkey, by those who desired the bird, he de- fended himself as follows : " Me meet moose — he stop to eat, me shoot him. Me meet bear — he climb a tree, no see Indian, me shoot him. Me meet deer — he look up — say may be Indian, may be stump — and me shoot him. Me see turkey great way off — he look up and say, Indian coming sure— me no shoot turkey, he cunning too much," The turkey is also very tenacious of life, and will often escape though wounded in a manner that would seem to defy the power of locomotion. A rifle ball has been driven through and through the body of a turkey, and yet it has run with speed for miles. Some hunters have been fortunate in possessing dogs that have, with- out any instruction, been good turkey hunters. These dogs follow the scent, lead the hunter up to the haunts of the bird, lie quiet until a shot is had, and then follow the game if only wounded, until it is exhausted, and thus secure a prize to the hunter, that would otherwise have been lost. This manner of hunting the turkey. 14 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. however, cannot be called its most legitimate form ; as will be noticed in the progress of our chronicle. The taste that makes the deer and fox hunt a favor- ite amusement, is not the foundation on which to build a true turkey hunter. The baying of hounds, the clamor of the horn, the excitement of the chase, the pell-mell and noisy demonstration, are all destructive to the successful pursuit of the turkey, — consequently, the turkey hunter is distinct and peculiar ; he sympathises with the excentric habits of the bird, with its love of silence, with its obscurity, and it is no objection to him, if the morning is whiled away in the deep solitude, in comparative inaction, for all this favors contemplation worthy of an intellectual mind. It is unnecessary to describe the bird, though we never see it fairly represented except in the forest. The high-mettled racer that appears upon the course is no more superior to the well fed cart-horse, than is the wild turkey to the tame; in fact, nothing living shows more points of health and purity of blood than this noble bird. Its game head, and clear hazel eye, the clean, firm step, the great breadth of shoulder, and deep chest, strike the most superficial observer. Then there is an absolute commanding beauty about them, when they are alarmed or curious; then they elevate themselves to their full height, bringing their head per- pendicular with their feet, and gaze about, every feather in its place, the foot upraised ready at an instant to WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 15 strike off at a speed, that, as has been said of the os- trich, " scorneth the horse and his rider." As a general thing, turkey-hunters, if they be of literary habits, read Isaak Walton, and Burton's " Ana- tomy of Melancholy," and all — learned or unlearned — are. of course, enthusiastic disciples of the rod and line. The piscator can be an enthusiastic admirer of the ope- ra, the wild turkey-hunter could not be, for his taste never carries him beyond the simple range of natural notes. Herein, he excels. Place him in the forest with his pipe, and no rough Pan ever piped more wilily, or more in harmony with the scenes around him. The same tube modulates the sound of alarm, and the dulcet strains of love ; it plays plaintively the complaining notes of the female, and, in sweet chirrups, calls forth the lover from his hiding- place ; it carols among the low whisperings of the fledg- ling, and expresses the mimic sounds of joy at the trea- sure of food, that is discovered under the fallen leaf, or half hidden away in the decaying wood. And all this is done so craftily, that ears, on which nature has set her stamp of peculiar delicacy, and the instinct, true almost as the shadow to the sunlight; are both deceived. The wild turkey-hunter is a being of solitude. There is no noise or boisterous mirth in his pursuit. Even the dead leaf, as it sails in circuitous motion to the earth, intrudes upon his caution, and alarms the 4 16 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTBR. wary game, which, in its care of preservation, flies as swiftly before the imaginary, as before the real danger. Often, indeed, is the morning's work destroyed by the cracking of a decayed limb, under the nimble spring of the squirrel. The deer and timid antelope will stop to gratify curiosity ; the hare scents the air for an in- stant, when alarmed, before it dashes off ; but the turkey never speculates, never wonders ; suspicion of danger, prompts it to immediate flight, as quickly as a reality. The implements of the turkey-hunter are few and simple ; the " call," generally made of the large bone of the turkey's wing, or a small piece of wood, into which is driven a nail, and a small piece of oil stone (the head of the nail on being quickly scraped on the stone, pro- ducing perfectly the noise of the female turkey), and a double-barrel fowling-piece, complete the list. A rifle is used where the game is plentiful ; and the person using it, as we have already described, depends upon the saga- city and speed of the dog, to rescue the wounded bird, for the turkey never instantly dies, except wounded in the brain. Where turkeys are plentiful and but little hunted, unskilful persons succeed in killing them ; of such hunt- ers we shall not speak. The bird changes its habits somewhat with its haunts, growing wilder as it is most pursued ; it may, therefore, be said to be the wildest of game. Gaining in wisdom according to the necessity, it is a different WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 17 bird wliere it is constantly sought for as game, from where it securely lives in the untrodden solitude. The turkey will, therefore, succeed at times in finding a home in places comparatively " thickly settled," and be so seldom seen, that they are generally supposed to be extinct. Under such circumstances, they fall vic- tims only to the very few hunters who may be said to make a science of their pursuit. " I rather think," said a turkey-hunter, " if you want to find a thing very cunning^ you need not go to the fox or such varmints, but take a gobbler. I once hunted regular after the same one for three years, and never saw him twice. '' I knew the critter's ' yelp' as well as I know Mu- sic's, my old deer dog ; and his track was as plain to me as the trail of a log hauled through a dusty road. " I hunted the gobbler always in the same ' range,' and about the same '■ scratchins,' and he got so, at last, that when I ' called,' he would run from me, taking the opposite direction to my oion foot-tracks. " Now, the old rascal kept a great deal on a ridge, at the end of which, where it lost itself in the swamp, was a hollow cypress tree. Determined to outwit him, I put on my shoes, heels foremost^ walked leisurely down the ridge, and got into the hollow tree, and gave a * call,' and boys," said the speaker exultingly, " it would have done you good to see that turkey coming towards me on a trot, looking at my tracks, and thinking I had gone the other wayy 18 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. Of all turkey-hunters, our friend W is the most experienced ; he is a bachelor, lives upon his own planta- tion, studies, philosophizes, makes fishing tackle, and kills turkeys. With him, it is a science reduced to cer- tainty. Place him in the woods where turkeys frequent, and he is as certain of them as if already in his pos- session. He understands the habits of the bird so well, that he will, on his first essay, on a new hunting-ground, give the exact character of the hunters the turkeys have been accustomed to deal with. The most crafty turkeys are those which W seeks, hemmed in by plantations, inhabiting uncultivatable land, and always in more or less danger of pursuit and discovery, they become, under such circumstances, wild beyond any game whatever. They seem incapable of being deceived, and taking every thing strange, as possessed to them of danger — whether it be a moth out of season — or a veteran hunt- er — they appear to common, or even uncommon ob- servers, annihilated from the country, were it not for their footprints occasionally to be seen in the soft soil beside the running stream, or in the light dust in the beaten road. A veteran gobbler, used to all the tricks of the hunter's art — one who has had his wattles cut with shot; against whose well-defended breast had struck the spent ball of the rifle — one who, though almost starved, would walk by the treasures of grain in the " trap" and WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 19 " pen," — a gobbler who will listen to the plaintive note of the female until he has tried its quavers, its length, its re- petitions, by every rule nature has given him — and then, perhaps not answer, except in a smothered voice, for fear of being deceived ; — such a turkey will W se- lect to break a lance with^ and, in spite of the chances against him, win. We then have here the best specimen of wild tur- key-hunting ; an exhibition of skill between the perfec- tion of animal instinct, and the superior intellect of man. The turkey-hunter, armed with his "call," starts into the forest ; he bears upon his shoulder the trusty gun. He is either informed of the presence of turkeys, and has a particular place or bird in view, or he makes his way cautiously along the banks of some running steam ; his progress is slow and silent ; it may be that he unexpectedly hears a noise, sounding like distant thunder ; he then knows that he is in close proximity of the game, and that he has disturbed it to flight. When such is the case, his work is comparatively done. We will, for illustration, select a more difficult hunt. The day wears towards noon, the patient hunter has met no " sign," when suddenly a slight noise is heard— not unlike, to unpractised ears, a thousand other wood- land sounds; the hunter listens; again the sound is heard, as if a pebble dropped into the bosom of a little lake. It may be that woodpecker, who, desisting from 20 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. his labors, has opened his bill to yawn — or, perchance, yonder little bird so industriously scratching among the dead leaves of that young holly. Again, precisely the same sound is heard ; yonder, high in the heavens, is a solitary hawk, winging its way over the forests, its rude scream etherealized, might come down to our ears, in just such a sound as made the turkey-hunter listen; — again the same note — now more distinct. The quick ear of the hunter is satisfied ; stealthily he intrenches himself behind a fallen tree, a few green twigs are placed before him, from among which protrudes the muzzle of his deadly weapon. Thus prepared, he takes his " call," and gives one solitary " cluck'''' — so exquisitely — that it chimes in with the running brook and the rustling leaf. It may be, that a half a mile off, if the place be fa- vorable for conveying sound, is feeding a "gobbler;" prompted by his nature, as he quickly scratches up the herbage that conceals his food, he gives utterance to the sounds that first attracted the hunter's attention. Poor bird ! he is bent on filling his crop ; his feel- ings are listless, common-place ; his wings are awry ; the plumage on his breast seems soiled with rain ; his wattles are contracted and pale, — look ! he starts — every feather is instantly in its place, he raises his de- licate game-looking head full four feet from the ground, and listens ; what an eye ! what a stride is suggested by that lifted foot ! gradually the head sinks ; again the WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 21 bright plumage grows dim, and with a low cluck ^ he re- sumes his search for food. The treasures of the American forest are before him ; the choice pecan-nut is neglected for that immense "grub worm" that rolls down the decayed stump, too large to crawl ; now that grasshopper is nabbed ; presently a hill of ants presents itself, and the bird leans over it, and, with wondering curiosity, peering down the tiny hole of its entrance, out of which are is- suing the industrious insects. Again that cluck greets his ear, up rises the head with lightning swiftness, the bird starts forward a pace or two, looks around in wonder, and answers back. No sound is heard but the falling acorn ; and it fairly echoes, as it rattles from limb to limb, and dashes off to the ground. The bird is uneasy — he picks pettishly, smooths down his feathers, elevates his head slowly, and then brings it to the earth ; raises his wings as if for flight, jumps upon the limb of a fallen tree, looks about, set- tles down finally into a brown study, and evidently com- mences thinking. An hour may have elapsed— he has resolved the matter over ; his imagination has become inflamed ; he has heard just enough to wish to hear 'more; he is satis- fied, that no turkey-hunter uttered the sounds that reached his ear, for they were too few and far betiveen ; and then there rises up in his mind some disconsolate 22 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. mistress, and lie gallantly flies down from his low perch, gives his body a swaggering motion, and utters a dis- tinct and prolonged cluck — significant of both surprise and joy. On the instant, the dead twigs near by crack beneath a heavy tread, and he starts off under the impression that he is caught ; but the meanderings of some rumi- nating cow inform him of his mistake. Composing himself, he listens — ten minutes since he challenged, when a low cluck in the distance reaches his ears. Now, our gobbler is an old bird, and has several times, as if by a miracle, escaped from harm with his life ; he has grown very cunning indeed. He will not roost two successive nights upon the same tree, so that daylight never exposes him to the hunter, who has hidden himself away in the night to kill him in the morning's dawn. He never gobbles without running a short distance at least, as if alarmed at the noise he makes himself — he presumes every thing is suspicious and dangerous, and his experience has heightened the instinct. Twice, when young, was he coaxed within gun-shot : but got clear by some fault of the percussion-caps — after that, he was fooled by an idle schoolboy, who was a kind of ventriloquist, and would have been slain, had not the urchin overloaded his gun. Three times did he come near being killed by heed- lessly wandering with his thoughtless playfellows. WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 23 Once he was caught in a "pen," and got out by an overlooked hole in its top. Three feathers of last year's "fan," decayed under the weight of a spring-trap. All this experience has made him a " deep " bird ; and he will sit and plume himself, when common hunters are tooting away, but never so wisely as to deceive him twice. They all reveal themselves by overstepping the modesty of nature, and ivoo Jiim too riiucli ; his loves are far more coy, far less intrusive. Poor bird ! he does not know that W is spread- ing his snare for him, and is even then so sure of his victim, as to be revolving in his mind whether his goodly carcass should be a present to a newly-married friend, or be served up in savory fumes, from his own bachelor but hospitable board. The last cluck heard by the gobbler, fairly roused him, and he presses forward ; at one time he runs with speed ; then stops as if not yet quite satisfied ; some- thing turns him back ; still he lingers only for a mo- ment in his course, until coming to a running stream, where he will have to fly ; the exertion seems too much for him. Stately parading in the full sunshine, he walks along the margin of the clear water, admiring his fine per- son as it is reflected in the sylvan mirror, and then, like some vain lover, tosses his head, as if to say, " let them come to me : " the listless gait is resumed, expressive that the chase is given up. 24 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. Gaining the ascent of a low bank, that lines the stream he has just deserted, he stops at the foot of a young beech ; in the green moss that fills the interstices of the otherwise smooth bark is hidden away a cricket ; the turkey picks at it, without catching it ; something annoys him. Like the slipper of Cinderella to the imagination of the young prince, or the glimpses of a waving ringlet or jewelled hand, to the glowing passions of a young heart, is the remembrance of that sound, that now full two hours since was first heard by our hero — and has been, in that long time, but tivice repeated. He speculates that in the shady woods that surround him, there must wander a mate ; solitarily she plucks her food, and calls for me — the monster man, impatient of his prey, doles not out his music so softly or so daintily — I am not deceived, and, by my ungallant fears, she will be won by another. Cluck. — How well-timed the call. The gobbler now entirely off his guard, contracts himself, opens wide his mouth, and rolls forth, fearlessly, a volume of sound for his answer. The stream is crossed in a flutter, the toes scarce indent themselves in the soft ground over which they pass. On, on he plunges, until caution again brings him to a halt. We could almost wish that so fine a bird might escape — that there might be given one "call" too WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 25 much — one, that grated unnaturally on the poor bird's ear — but not so, — they lead him to his doom, filling his heart with hope and love. To the bird there is one strange incongruity in the " call " — never before has he gone so far with so little success ; but the note is perfect, the time most nicely given. Again he rolls forth a loud response, and listens — yet no answer : his progress is still slow. The cluck again greets his ear ; there was a slight quaver attached to it this time, like the forming of a second note ; he is nearing his object of pursuit, and with an energetic " call ; " he rushes forward, his long neck stretched out, and his head moving inquiringly from side to side. No longer going round the various obstacles he meets with in his path, but impatiently flying over them, he comes to an ojDen sjDace, and stops. Some six hundred yards from where he" stands may be seen a fallen tree ; you can observe some green brush, that looks as if it grew out of the very decayed wood ; in this " brush " is hidden away the deadly fowl- ing piece, and its muzzle is protruding towards the open ground. Behind it is the hunter, flat upon the ground, yet so placed that the weapon is at his shoulder. He seems to be as dead as the tree in front of him. Could you watch him closely, you would perceive that he scarcely winks for fear of alarming his game. o 26 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. The turkey, still iu bis exposed situation, gobbles : — on the instant the hunter raises his " call " to his lips, and gives a prolonged cluck — loud and shrill ; the first that could really be construed by the turkey into a direct answer. The noble bird, now certain of success, fairly dances with delight ; he starts forward, his feathers and neck amorously playing as he advances ; now he commences his " strut" — his slender body swells, the beautiful plu- mage of his breast unfolds itself — his neck curves, draw- ing the neck downward — the wattles grow scarlet, while the skin that covers the head changes like rainbow tints. The long feathers of the wings brush the ground, the tail rises and opens into a semicircle, the gorgeously colored head becomes beautifully relieved in its centre. On he comes, with a hitching gait, glowing in the sunshine with purple and gold. The siren cluck is twice repeated ; he contracts his form to the smallest dimensions ; upwards rises the head to the highest point ; he stands upon his very toes, and looks suspiciously around ; fifty yards of distance protects him from the bolt of death : he even condes- cends to pick about. What a trial for the expectant hunter ! how vividly does he recollect that one breath too much has spoiled a morning's work ! The minutes wear on, and the bird again becomes the caller ; he gobbles, opens his form, and, when fully WILD TURKEY HUNTING. 27 bloomed out, the enchanting cluck greets his ear ; on, on he comes — like the gaj horse towards the inspiring music of the drum, or like a bark beating; asainst the "wind, gallantly but slowly. The dark cold barrel of the gun is now not more silent than is the hunter ; the game is playing just out- side the very edge of its deadly reach ; the least mis- take, and it is gone. One gentle zephyr, one falling twig, might break the charm, and make nature revolt at the coyness apparent in the mistress, and then the lover would wing his way full of life to the woods. But on he comes — so still is every thing that you hear his wings distinctly as they brush the ground, while the sun plays in conflicting rays and colored lights about his gaudily bronzed plumage. Suddenly, the woods ring in echoing circles back upon you ; a sharp report is heard. Out starts, alarmed by the noise, a blue jay, which squalls as he passes in waving lines before you, so rudely wakened was he from sleep. But our rare and beautiful bird, — our gallant and noble bird, — our cunning and game bird, where is he ? The glittering plumage — the gay step — the bright eye — all — all are gone : — Without a movement of the muscles, our valorous lover has fallen lifeless to the earth. SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. It is not expected that a faithful description of Satan's Summer Retreat in Arkansas, will turn aside the fashion of two worlds, from Brighton and Bath, or from New- port and Saratoga, although the residents in the neigh- borhood of that delightful place, profess to have ocular demonstration, as well as popular opinion, that his Satanic Majesty in warm weather regularly retires to the " Retreat," and " there reclines " in the " cool." The solemn grandeur that surrounds this distin- guished resort, is worthy of the hero as represented by Milton ; its characteristics are darkness, gloom and mystery ; it is environed by the unrivalled vegetation and forest of the Mississippi valley. View it when jou will, whether decked out in all the luxuriance of a southern summer, or stripped of its foliage by tlie win- ter's blasts — it matters not — its grandeur is always sombre. SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 29 The liuge trees seem immortal, their roots look as if they struck to the ceotre of the earth, while the gnarled limbs reach out to the clouds Here and there may be seen one of these lordly specimens of vegetation, furrowed by the lightning ; from its top to the base you can trace the subtle fluid in its descent, and see where it shattered off the gigantic limb, or turned aside from slight inequality in the bark. These stricken trees, no longer able to repel the nu- merous parasites that surround them, soon become fes- tooned with wreathes and flowers ; while the damp air engenders on living tree and dead, like funereal drapery, the pendant moss, which waves in every breeze and seems to cover the whole scene with the gloom of the grave. Rising out of this forest, for ten square miles, is the dense cane-brake, that bears the name of " Satan's Sum- mer Retreat;" it is formed by a space of ground where, seemingly, from its superiority of soil, more delicate vegetation than that which surrounds it, has usurped the empire. Here the reed, which the disciple of Izaak Walton plays over the northern streams like a wand, grows into a delicate mast — springing with the prodi- gality of grass from the rich alluvium that gives it sus- tenance, and tapering from its roots to the height of twenty or thirty feet, it there mingles in comj)act and luxuriant confusion its long leaves. A portion of this brake is interwoven with vines of all descriptions, which makes it so thick that it is al- 30 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. most as impenetrable as a mountain. Here, in this soli- tude, where the noon-day sun never penetrates, myriads of birds, with the instinct of safety, roost at night; and at the dawn of day for awhile darken the air as they seek their haunts — their manure deadening like a a fire, for acres around, the vegetation, so long have they possessed the solitude. Amid this mass of cane and vine, the black bear retire for winter quarters, where they pass the season, if not disturbed, in the insensibility of sleep, and yet come out in the spring as fat as when they commenced their long najD. The forest, the waste, and the dangers of the cane- brake, but add to the excitement of the Arkansas hunter ; he conquers them all, and makes them subservient to his pursuits. Familiar with these scenes, they to him possess no sentiment ; he builds his log cabin in a clear- ing made by his own hands, amid the surrounding gran- deur, and it looks like a gypsy hut among the ruins of a Gothic cathedral. The noblest trees to him are only valuable for fence-rails ; and the cane-brake is "an in- fernal dark hole," where you can " see sights," " catch bear," and get a " fish pole," ranging in size from a "penny whistle to that of a young stove pipe." The undoubted hero of Satan's Summer Retreat, is old Bob Herring : he has a character that would puzzle three hundred metaphysicians consecutively. For, while he is as bold as a lion, he is superstitious as an Indian. SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 31 The exact place of his birth ho cannot tell, as he says that his parents " travelled'' as long as he can remember them. He " squatted " on the Mississippi at its nearest point to the Retreat, and there erecting a rude camp, commenced hunting for a living, having no prospect ahead but selling out his "pre-emption right " and im- provements, and again squatting somewhere else. Unfortunately, the extent of Arkansas, and the swamp that surrounded Bob's location, kept it out of market until, to use his own language, he " became the ancientest inhabitant in the hull of Arkansaw." And having, in spite of himself, gradually formed acquaint- ances with the few residents in this vicinity, and grown into importance from his knowledge of the country, and his hunting exploits, he has established himself for life, at what he calls, the " Wasp's diggins ;" made a potato patch, which he has never had time to fence in ; talked largely of a cornfield ; and hung his cabin round with rifle-pouches, gourds, red peppers, and flaming advertise- ments with rampant horses and pedigrees ; these latter ornaments, he looks upon as rather sentimental — but he excuses himself on the ground that they look " hoss," and he considers such an expression as considerably characteristic of himself. We have stated that Bob's mind would puzzle three hundred metaphysicians consecutively, and we as boldly assert that an equal number of physiologists would be brought to a stand by his personal appearance. The 32 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. left side of his face is good looking, but the right side seems to be under the influence of an invisible air-pump ; it looks drawn out of shape ; his perpendicular height is six feet one inch, but that gives the same idea of his length that the diameter gives of the circumference ; how long Bob Herring would be if he were drawn out, it is impossible to tell. Bob*himself says, that he was made on too tall a scale for this world, and that he was shoved in like the joints of a telescope, — poor in flesh, his enormous bones and joints rattle when he moves, and they would no doubt long since have fallen apart, but for the enormous tendons that bind them to- gether as visibly as a good sized hawser would. Such is Bob Herring, — who on a bear hunt will do more hard work, crack more jokes, and be more active than any man living ; sustaining the whole with unflinch- ing good humor, never getting angry except when he breaks his whiskey-bottle, or has a favorite dog open ou the wrong trail. My first visit to Satan's Summer E-etreat, was pro- pitious ; my companions were all choice spirits ; the weather was fine, and Bob Herring inimitable. The bustling scene that prefaced the " striking the camp " for night lodgings, was picturesque and animated ; a long ride brought us to our halting-place, and there was great relief in again stepping on the ground. Having hoppled our horses, we next proceeded to build a fire, which was facilitated by taking advantage Bob Herring's Camp-fiit-, SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 33 of a dead tree for a back-log ; our saddles, guns, and other necessaries were brought within the circle of its light, and lolling upon the ground we partook of a fru- gal supper, the better to be prepared for our morrow's exertions and our anticipated breakfast. Beds were next made up, and few can be better than a good supply of cane tops, covered with a blanket, with a saddle for a pillow; upon such a rude couch, the hunter sleeps more soundly than the effeminate citizen on his down. The crescent moon with her attendant stars, studded the canopy under which we slept, and the blazing fire completely d^ti'oy'ej.' the chilliness of a southern December nighl^/" c^^ 0- ^."^-S? The old adage of " ear^jD bed and early to rise " was intended to be acted unOiJi, that we might salute the tardy sun with the heat of our sport ; and probably we would have carried out our intentions, had not Bob Herring very coolly asked if any of us snored " unkim- monly loud," for he said his old sJwoting iron would go off at a good imitation of a bear's breathing. This sally from Bob brought us all upright, and then there commenced a series of jibes, jokes, and stories, that no one can hear or witness except on an Arkansas hunt with " old coons." Bob, like the immortal Jack, was witty himself, and the cause of wit in others ; but he sustained himself against all competition, and gave in his notions and experience with an unrivalled humor and simplicity. 2* 34 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. He found in me an attentive listener, and, therefore went into details, iintil he talked every one but myself asleep. From general remarks, he changed to addressing me personally, and as I had every thing to learn, he went from the elementary, to the most complex experience. " You are green in bar hunting," said he to me, in a commiserating tone — " green as a jimson weed — but don't get short-winded 'bout it, case it's a thing like readin', to be I'arnt ; — a man don't come it perfectly at once, like a dog does ; and as for that, they I'arn a heap in time ; — thar is a greater difference 'tween a pup and an old dog on a bar hunt, than thar is 'tween a militia man and a regler. I remember when I couIcVnt bar hunt^ though the thing seems onpossible now ; it only takes time — a true eye and a steady hand, though I did know a fellow that called himself a doctor, who said you could'nt do it, if you was narvious. " I asked him if he meant by that, agee arid fever ! " He said, it was the agee without the fever. " Thar "tnay be such a thing as narvious, stranger, but nothing but a yarth quake, or the agee can shake me ; and still bar hunting aint as easy as scearing a wild tur- key, by a long shot. " The varmint aint a hog, to run with a — w — h — e — w ; just corner one — cotch its cub, or cripple it, and if j^ou don't have to fight, or get out of the way, \ SUMBTER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 35 then thai' aint no cat-fish in the Mississip. I larnt that nih twenty year ago, and, perhaps, you Avould like to know about it." Signifying my assent. Bob Herring got up on his bed — for as it was upon the bare ground, he could not well get off of it, — and, approaching the fire, he threw about a cord of wood upon it, in the form of a few huge logs ; as they struck the blazing heap, the sparks flew upwards in the clear cold air, like jets of stars ; then, fixing himself most comfortably, he detailed what follows : " I had a knowin old sow on a time, that would have made a better hunter than any dog ever heer'd on — she had such a nose, — talk 'bout a dog following a cold trail — she'd track a bar through running water. Well ' — you see afor' I know'd her vartu', she came run- ning into my cabin, bristles up, and fell on the floor, from what I now believe, to have been a regular scear. I thought she'd seen a bar, for nothing else could make her run ; and, taking down my rifle, I went out sort a carelessly, with only two dogs at my heels. I hadn't gone far 'fore I saw a bar, sure enough, quietly standing beside a small branch — it was an old He^ and no mistake. " I crawled up to him on my hands and knees, and raised my rifle, but had I fired, I must have hit him so far in front, that the ball would have ranged back and not cut his mortals. I waited — and he turned tail to- wards me, and started across the branch ; afeer'd I'd lose him, I blazed away, and a sort of cut him slantingdicu- 36 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. larly through his hams, and brought him clown ; thar he sot looking like a sick nigger with the dropsy, or a black bale of cotton turned up on end. It was not a judge- matical shot, and Smith thar," pointing at one of the sleeping hunters, " would say so." Hereupon Bob Herring, without any ceremony, seized a long stick, and thrust it into Smith's short ribs, who thus suddenly awakened from a sound sleep, seized his knife, and, looking about him, asked confusedly what was the matter ? " Would you," inquired Bob, very leisurely, " would you — under any carcumstances, shoot an old He in the hams ? " Smith, very peremptorily, told his questioner to go where the occupier of the Retreat in summer^ is sup- posed to reside through the winter months, and went in- stantly to sleep again. Bob continued — " Stranger, the bar — as I have said, was on his hams, and thar he sot — waiting to whip somebody, and not knowing where to begin ; when the two dogs that followed me came up, and pitched into him like a caving bank — I know'd the result afore the fight began ; Blucher had his whole scalp, ears and all, hanging over his nose in a mioute, and Tige', was lying- some distance from the bar on his back, breathing like a horse with the thumps ; he wiped them both out with one stroke of his left paw, and thar he sot — knowing as well as I did, that he was not obliged to the dogs for SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 37 the hole in his carcass — and thar I stood like a fool — rifle in hand, watching him, instead of giving him an- other ball. All of a sudden he caught a glimpse of my hunting shirt, and the way that he walked at me on his two fore legs, was a caution to slow dogs. " I fired, and instantly stept round behind the trunk of a large tree ; my second shot confused the bar, and as he was hunting about for me, just as I was patch- ing my ball, he again saw me, and, with his ears nailed back to his head, he gave the d 1 w — h — e — w I ever heard, and made straight at me ; I leapt up a bank near by, and as I gained the top, my foot touched the eend of his nose. " If I ever had the ' narvious^'' stranger, that was the time, for the skin of my face seemed an inch thick, and my eyes had more rings in them than a wild cat's. " At this moment, several of my dogs, that war out on an expedition of their own, came up, and immediately made battle with the bar, who shook off the dogs in a flash, and made agin at me; the thing was done so quick, that as I raised my rifle, I stepped back and fell over, and, thinking my time was come, wished that I had been born to be hung, and not chaw'd up ; but the bar didn't cotch me ; his hind quarters, as he came at me, fell into a hole about a root, and caught : I was on my feet, and out of his reach in a wink, but as quick as I did this, he had cut through a green root the size of my leg, he did it in about two snaps, but, weakened by 38 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. the exertion, the dogs got hold of him, and held on while I blowed his heart out. Ever since that time, I have been wide awake with a wounded bar — sartainty or stand off] being my motto. " I shall dream of that bar to-night," concluded Bob, fixing his blanket over him ; and a few moments only elapsed before he was in danger of his life, if his rifle would go off", as he had said, at a good imitation of a bear's breathing. Fortunately for me, the sun on the following morn was fairly above the horizon before our little party was ready for the start. While breakfast was being pre- pared, the rifles were minutely examined ; some were taken apart, and every precaution used to insure a quick and certain fire. A rude breakfast having been des- patched, lots were drawn who should go into the drive with the dogs, as this task in Satan's Summer Retreat is any thing but a pleasant one, being obliged often to walk on the bending cane, which is so thick for hun- dreds of yards that you cannot touch or see the ground, — then crawling on your hands and knees between roots, you are sometimes brought to a complete halt, and obliged to cut your way through with the knife. While this is going on, the hunters are at the stands, places which their judgments dictate as most likely to be passed by the bear when roused by the dogs. Two miles might, on this occasion, have been passed over bv those in the drive in the course of three hours, SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 39 and yet, although signs were plenty as " leaves," not a bear was started. Hard swearing was heard, and as the vines encircled the feet, or caught one under the nose, it was increased. In the midst of this ill humor, a solitary bark was heard, — some one exclaimed, that was Bose ! — another shrill yelp — that sounded like Music's ;— breathing was almost suspended in the excitement of the moment, — presently another and another bark was heard in quick succession — in a minute more tJie ivliole j)Cick of thirty- five stanch dogs opened ! The change from silence to so much noise, made it almost deafening. Nothing but personal demonstration could give an idea of the effect upon the mind of such a pack baying a bear in a cane-brake. Before me were old hunters ; they had been moving along as if destitute of energy or feeling ; but now, their eyes flashed, their lips were compressed, and their cheeks flushed ; they seemed incapable of fatigue. As for myself, my feelings almost overcame me. I felt a cold sweat stealing down my back, my breath was thick and hot, and as I sus- pended it, to hear more distinctly the fight, — for by this time the dogs had evidently come up with the bear — I could hear the pulsation of my heart. One minute more to listen — to learn in which direc- tion the war was raging — and then our party unanimously sent forth a yell that would have frightened a nation of Indians 40 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. The bear was in his bed when the dogs first came up with him, and did not leave it until the pack sur- rounded him ; then finding things rather too warm, he broke off with a " whew " that was awful to hear. His course was towards us on the left, and as he went by, the cane cracked and smashed as if rode over by an insane locomotive. Bob Herring gave the dogs a salute as they passed close at the beast's heels, and the noise increased, until he said, " it sounded as if all li-ll were pounding bark." The bear was commented on as he rushed by; one said he was a " buster ; " "a regular-built eight year old " said another ; " fat as a candle," shouted a third ; — •' he's the beauty of Satan's Summer Betreat, with a band of music after him," sang Bob Herring. Out of his lair the bear plunged so swiftly, that our greatest exertions scarcely enabled us to keep within hearing distance; his course carried him towards those at the stands, he turned and exactly retraced his course, but not with the same speed ; want of breath had several times brought him to a stand, and a fight with the dogs. He passed us the second time within two hundred yards, and coming against a fallen tree, backed up against it, showing a determination, if necessary, there to die. We made our way towards the spot as fast as the obstacles in our way would let us ; the hunters anxious to dispatch him, that few dogs as possible might be sacrificed. The few minutes necessary to accomplish SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 41 this, seemed a7i age — the fight all the time sounding terrible, for every now and then the bear evidently made a rush at the dogs as they narrowed their circle, or came individually ;t too near his person. Crawling through and over the cane-brake, was a new thing to me, and in the prevailing excitement my feet seemed tied together, and there was always a vine directly under my chin to cripple my exertions. While thus struggling, I heard a suspicious cracking in my ear, and looking round, I saw Bob Herring a foot taller than usual, stalking over the cane like a colossus ; he very much facilitated my progress by a shove in the rear. '' Come along, stranger," he shouted, his voice as clear as a bell, " come along ; the bar and the dogs are going it like a high-pressure political meeting, and I must be thar to put in a word, sartain." Fortunately for my wind, I was nearer the contest than I imagined, for Bob Herring stopped just ahead of me, examined his rifle, with two or three other hunters just arrived from the stands, and by peeping through the undergrowtl), we discovered within thirty yards of us, the fierce raging fight. Nothing distinctl}^, however, was seen ; a confused mass of legs, heads, and backs of dogs, flying about as if attached to a ball, was all we could make out. On still nearer approach, confusion would clear off for a moment, and the head of the bear could be seen, his 42 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. tongue covered with dust and hanging a foot from his mouth; his jaws covered with foam and blood, and his eyes almost protruding from their sockets, while his ears were so closely pressed to the back of his head, that he seemed destitute of those appendages ; the whole, indicative of unbounded rage and terror. These glimpses of the bear were only momentary, his perse- cutors rested but for a breath, and then closed in, re- gardless of their own lives ; for you could discover, min- gled with the sharp bark of defiance, the yell that told of death. It was only while the bear was crushing some luckless dog, that they could cover his back, and lacerate it with their teeth. Bob Herring, and one of the hunters, in spite of the danger, crept upon their knees, so near, that it seemed as if another foot advanced would bring them within the circle of the fight. Bob Herring was first, within safe shooting distance to save the dogs, and, waving his hand to those behind him, he raised his rifle and sighted ; but his favorite dog, impatient for the report, anticipated it by jumping on the bear, which, throwing up his head at the same in- stant, received the ball in his nose; at the crack of the rifle — the well trained dogs, thinking less caution than otherwise necessary, jumped pell-mell on the bear's back, and the hardest fight ever witnessed in Summer Retreat ensued ; the hunter with Bob, placed his gun almost against the bear's side, and the cap snapped — no SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 4d one else was uear enougli to fire without hitting the dogs. " Give him the knife ! '■ cried those at a distance. Bob Herring's long blade was already flashing in his hand, but sticking a live bear is not child's play ; he was standing undecided, when he saw the hind legs of Bose upwards : thrusting aside one or two of the dogs with his hand, he made a pass at the bear's throat, but the animal was so quick, that he struck the knife with his fore paw, and sent it whirling into the cane ; another was instantly handed Bob, which he thrust at the bear, but the point was so blunt, that it would not penetrate the skin. Foiled a third time, with a tremendous oath on him- self, and the owner of a knife, " that wouldn't stick a cabbage," he threw it indignantly from him, and seizing, unceremoniously, a rifle, just then brought up by one of the party, heretofore in the rear ; he, utterly regardless of his own legs, thrust it against the side of the bear with considerable force, and blowed him through ; the bear struggled but for a moment, and fell dead. " I saw snakes last night in my dreams," said Bob, handing back the rifle to its owner — " and I never had any good luck the next day, arter sich a sarcumstance — I call this hull hunt about as mean an afi"air as damp powder; that bar thar," pointing to the carcass, " that bar thar ought to have been killed afore he maimed a dog." 44 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. Then, speaking energetically, he said, " Boys, never fire at a bar's head, eA^en if your iron is in his ear, its nnsartain ; look how I missed the brain, and only tore the smellers ; with fewer dogs, and sich a shot, a fellow would be ripped open in a powder flash ; and I say, cuss caps, and head shooting; they would have cost two lives to-day, but for them ar blessed dogs." With such remarks Bob Herring beguiled away the time, while he, with others, skinned the bear. His huge carcass when dressed, though not over fat, looked like a huge young steer's. The dogs, as they recovered breath, partook of the refuse with a relish ; the nearest possible route out of the Eetreat was selected, and two horse loads took the meat into the open woods, where it was divided out in such a manner, that it could be taken home. Bob Herring, while the dressing of the bear was go- ing on, took the skin, and, on its inside surface, which glistened like satin, he carefully deposited the caul fat, and beside it the liver — the choice parts of the bear, ac- cording to the gourmand notions of the frontier, were in Bob's possession ; and many years' experience had made him so expert in cooking it, that he was locally famed for this matter above all competitors. It would be as impossible to give the recipe for this dish, so that it might be followed by the gastronomers ^ SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKAJVSAS, 45 of cities, as it would to have the articles composing it exposed for sale in the markets. Bob Herring managed it as follows : he took a long wooden skevrer, and having thrust its point through a small piece of the liver fat, he then followed it by a small piece of the liver, then the fat, then the liver, and so, on, until his most important material was consumed ; when this was done, he opened the " bear's handker- chief," or caul, and wrapped it round the whole, and thus roasted it before the fire. Like all the secrets in cookery, this dish depends, for its flavor and richness, upon giving exactly the proper quantities, as a super- abundance of one, or the other, would completely spoil the dish. " I was always unlucky, boys," said Bob — throwing the bear skin and its contents over his shoulders, " but I have had my fill often of caul fat and liver — many a man who thiiiks he's lucky ^ lives and dies as ignorant of its vartue, as a possum is of corn cake. If I ever look dead, boys, don't bury me until you see I don't open my eyes when the caul fat and liver is ready for eating ; if I don't move when you show me it, then I am a done goner, sure." Night closed in before we reached our homes the excitement of the morning wore upon our spirits and energy, but the evening's meal of caul fat and liver, and other "fixins," or Bob Herring's philosophical remarks, 46 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. restored me to perfect health, and I shall ever recollect that supper, and its master of ceremonies, as harmo- nious with, and as extraordinary as is, the '' Summer Retreat in Arkansas." TOM OWEN. TOM OWEN, THE BEE-HUNTER. As a country becomes cleared up and settled, bee-hunt- ers disappear, consequently they are seldom or never noticed beyond the immediate vicinity of their homes. Among this backwoods fraternity, have flourished men of genius, in their way, who have died unwept and un- noticed, while the heroes of the turf, and of the chase, have been lauded to the skies for every trivial superi- ority, they may have displayed in their respective pur- suits. To chronicle the exploits of sportsmen is commend- able — the custom began as early as the days of the ante- diluvians, for we read, that " Nimrod was a mighty hunter before the Lord." Familiar, however, as Nim- rod's name may be — or even Davy Crockett's — how un- satisfactory their records, when we reflect that Tom Owen, the bee-hunter, is comparatively unknown ? Yos, the mighty Tom Owen has ''huntefl.'' from the 48 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTEE, time that he could stand alone until the present time, and not a pen has inked paper to record his exploits. " Solitar}^ and alone" has he traced his game through the mazy labyrinth of air ; marked, I hunted ; — I found; — I conquered; — upon the carcasses of his victims, and then marched homeward with his spoils : quietly and satisfiedly, sweetening his path through life; and, by its very obscurity, adding the principal element of the sub- lime. It was on a beautiful southern October morning, at the hospitable mansion of a friend, where I was staying to drown dull care, that I iirst had the pleasure of see- ing Tom Owen. He was, on this occasion, straggling up the rising ground that led to the hospitable mansion of mine host, and the difference between him and ordinary men was visible at a glance ; perhaps it showed itself as much in the perfect contempt of fashion that he displayed in the adornment of his outward man, as it did in the more ele- vated qualities of his mind, which were visible in his face. His head was adorned with an outlandish pattern of a hat — ^liis nether limbs were encased by a pair of inexpressibles, beautifully fringed by the briar-bushes through whicli they were often drawn ; coats and vests, he considered as superfluities ; hanging upon his back were a couple of pails, and an axe in his right hand, formed the varieties that represented the corpus of Tom Owen. TOM OWEN, THE BEE-HUNTER. 49 As is usual with great men, he had his followers, who, with a courtier-like humility, depended upon the expression of his face for all their hopes of success. The usual salutations of meeting were sufficient to draw me within the circle of his influence, and I at once became one of his most ready followers. " See yonder ! " said Tom, stretching his long arm into infinite space, " see yonder — there's a bee." We all looked in the direction he pointed, but that was the extent of our observation. " It was a fine bee," continued Tom, " black body, yellow legs, and went into that tree," — pointing to a tow- ering oak, blue in the distance. " In a clear day I can see a bee over a mile, easy ! " When did Coleridge "talk" like that? And yet Tom Owen uttered such a saying with perfect ease. After a variety of meanderings through the thick woods, and clambering over fences, we came to our place of destination, as pointed out by Tom, who selected a mighty tree containing sweets, the possession of which the poets have likened to other sweets that leave a sting behind. The felling of a mighty tree is a sight that calls up a variety of emotions ; and Tom's game was lodged in one of the finest in the forest. But " the axe was laid at the root of the tree," which, in Tom's mind, was made expressly for bees to build their nests in, that he might cut them down, and obtain possession of their honeyed 3 50 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. treasure. The sharp axe, as it played in the hands of Tom, was replied to by a stout negro from the opposite side of the tree, and their united strokes fast gained upon the heart of their lordly victim. There was little poetry in the thought, that long before this mighty empire of States was formed, Tom Owen's " bee-hive" had stretched its brawny arms to the winter's blast, and grown green in the summer's sun. Yet such was the case, and how long I might have moralized I know not, had not the enraged buzzing about my ears satisfied me that the occupants of the tree were not going to give up their home and treasure, with- out showing considerable practical fight. No sooner had the little insects satisfied themselves that they were about to be invaded, than they began, one after another, to descend from their airy abode, and fiercely pitch into our faces ; anon a small company, headed by an old vet- eran, would charge with its entire force upon all parts of our body at once. It need not be said that the better part of valor was displayed by a precipitate retreat from such attacks. In the midst of this warfare, the tree began to trem- ble with the fast-repeated strokes of the axe, and then might have been seen a '-bee-line " of stingers precipi- tating themselves from above, on the unfortunate hunter beneath. Now it was that Tom shone forth in his glory, for his partisans — like many hangers-on about great men, TOM OWEN, THE BEE-HUNTER. 51 began to desert him on the first symptoms of danger ; and when the trouble thickened, they, one and all, took to their heels, and left only our hero and Sambo to fight the adversaries. Sambo, however, soon dropped his axe, and fell into all kinds of contortions ; first he would seize the back of his neck with his hands, then his legs, and yell with pain. " Never holler till you get out of the woods," said the sublime Tom, consolingly ; but writhe the negro did, until he broke, and left Tom " alone in his glory." Cut, — thwack ! sounded through the confused hum at the foot of the tree, marvellously reminding me of the interruptions that occasionally broke in upon the other- wise monotonous hours of my schoolboy days. A sharp cracking finally told me the chopping was done, and, looking aloft, I saw the mighty tree balan- cing in the air. Slowly, and majestically, it bowed for the first time towards its mother earth, — gaining velo- city as it descended, it shivered the trees that interrupt- ed its downward course, and falling with thundering sound, splintered its mighty limbs, and buried them deeply in the ground. The sun, for the first time in at least two centuries, broke uninterruptedly through the chasm made in the forest, and shone with splendor upon the magnificent Tom, standing a conqueror among his spoils. As might be expected, the bees were very much astonished and confused, and by their united voices pro- 52 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. claimed death, had it been in their power, to all their foes, not, of course, excepting Tom Owen himself. But the wary hunter was up to the tricks of his trade, and, like a politician, he knew how easily an enraged mob could be quelled with smoke ; and smoke he tried, until his enemies were completely destroyed. We, Tom's hangers-on, now approached his treasure. It was a rich one, and, as he observed, " contained a rich chance of plunder." Nine feet, by measurement, of the hollow of the tree was full, and this afforded many pails of pure honey. Tom was liberal, and supplied us all with more than we wanted, and " toted," by the assistance of Sambo, his share to his own home, soon to be devoured, and soon to be replaced by the destruction of another tree, and another nation of bees. Thus Tom exhibited within himself an unconquer- able genius which would have immortalized him, had he directed it in following the sports of Long Island or iS'ew Market. We have seen the great men of the southern turf glorying around the victories of their favorite sport, — we have heard the great western hunters detail the soul- stirring adventures of a bear-hunt — we have listened, with almost suffocating interest, to the tale of a Nan- tucket seaman, while he portrayed the death of a mighty whale — and we have also seen Tom Owen triumphantly engaged in a bee-hunt — we beheld and wondered at the SUMMER RETREAT IN ARKANSAS. 53 sports of tlie turf — the field — and the sea — because the objects acted on by man were terrible, indeed, when their instincts were aroused. But, in the bee-hunt of Tom Owen, and its consum- mation, — the grandeur visible was imparted by the mighty mind of Tom Owen himself. AKROW-FISHINa In treating of tlie most beautiful and novel sport of arrow-fishing, its incidents are so interwoven with ten thousand accessories, that we scarce know how to sepa- rate our web, without either breaking it, or destroying a world of interest hidden among the wilds of the Amer- ican forest. The lakes over which the arrow-fisher twangs his bow, in the pleasant spring-time ; have disappeared long before the sere and yellow leaf of autumn appears, and the huntsman's horn, and the loud-mouthed pack, clamor melodiously after the scared deer upon their bottoms. To explain this phenomenon, the lover of nature must follow us until we exhibit some of the vagaries of the great Mississippi, and, having fairly got our " flood and field " before us, we will engage heartily in the sport. ARROW-FISHING. ^5 If you will descend vvith me from slightly broken ground througli which we lave been riding, covered with forest trees singularly choked up with undergrowth, to an expanse of country beautifully open between the trees, the limbs of which start out from the trunk some thirty feet above the ground, you will find at your feet an herbage that is luxuriant, but scanty ; high over your head, upon the trees, you will perceive a line, marking what has evidently been an overflow of water ; you can trace the beautiful level upon the trunks of the trees, as far as the eye can reach. It is in the fall of the year, and a squirrel drops an acorn upon your shoulder, and about your feet are the sharp-cut tracks of the nimble deer. You are standing in the centre of what is called, by hunters, a " dry lake." As the warm air of April favors the opening flowers of spring, the waters of the Mississippi, increased by the melting snows of the North, swell within its low banks, and rush in a thousand streams back into the swamps and lowlands that lie upon its borders ; the tor- rent sweeps along into the very reservoir in which we stand, and the waters swell upwards until they find a level with the fountain itself Thus is formed the ar- row-fisher's lake. The brawny oak, the graceful pecan, the tall poplar, and delicate beech spring from its surface in a thousand tangled limbs, looking more beautiful, yet most unnat- 56 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. ural, as the water reflects them downwards, hiding com- pletely away their submerged trunks. The arrow-fisher now peeps in the nest of the wild bird from his little boat, and runs its prow plump into the hollow, that marks the doorway of some cunning squirrel. In fact, he navigates for awhile his bark where, in the fall of the year, the gay-plumed songster and the hungry hawk plunge mid-air, and float not more swiftly nor gayly, on light pinioned wings, than he in his swift canoe. A chapter from nature : and who unfolds the great book so understandingly, and learns so truly from its wisdom, as the piscator ? Iiter.^.. i...dit b >(t!^i-. ■'-filr f a, The level of the Mississippi, at its ordinary stage of water. h, The height of the spring rise, c, d, The "dry lakes." By ex- amination of the above drawing, an idea may be formed of the manner of the rises of the Mississippi, The observer will notice that when the water is at a, the lakes c and d will be dry, afford- ing a fine hunting-ground for deer, &c. When the water is at 6, the lakes are formed, and arrow-fishing is pursued, (See de- scription.) A correct idea may also be formed by what is meant by a water-line on the trees, indicating the last rise ; the water- line will be formed of the sediment settling on the trees at the line h, marked above. ARROW-FISHING. 57 The rippling brook, as it dances along in the sun- shine, bears with it the knowledge, there is truthfulness in water, though it be not in a well. TVe can find something, if we will, to love and admire under every wave ; and the noises of every tiny brook are tongues that speak eloquently to nature's true priests. We have marked, that with the rise of the waters, the fish grow gregarious, and that they rush along in schools ivith the waters that floio inland from the river, — they thus choose these temporary sylvan lakes as depositories of their spawn; thus wittingly providing against that destruction that would await their young, in the highways of their journeyings. It is a sight to wonder at, in the wilds of the primi- tive forest, to see the fish rushing along the narrow in- lets, with the current, in numbers incredible to the im- agination, leaping over the fallen tree that is only half buried in the surface of the stream, or stayed a moment in their course by the meshes of the strong net, either bursting it by force of numbers, or granting its wasteful demands by thousands, without seemingly to diminish the multitude, more than a single leaf taken from the forest would perceptibly alter the vegetation. We have marked, too, that these fish would besport themselves in their new homes, secluding themselves in the shadows of the trees and banks ; and, as the sum- mer heats come on, they would grow unquiet ; the out- lets leading to the great river they had left would be 3* 58 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. thronged by what seemed to be busy couriers ; and when the news finally spread oi falling water ^ one night would suffice to make the lake, before so thronged with finny life, deserted; and a few nights only, perhaps, would pass, when the narrow bar would intrude itself between the inland lake and the river, that supplied it with water. Such was the fish's wisdom, seen and felt, where man, with his learning and his nicely-wrought mechan- isms, would watch in vain the air, the clouds, and see " no signs " of falling water.* Among arrow-fishermen there are technicalities, an understanding of which will give a more ready idea of the sport. The surfaces of these inland lakes are un- ruffled by the winds or storms ; the heats of the sun seem to rest upon them ; they are constantly sending into the upper regions, warm mists. Their surfaces, * It may not be uninteresting to naturalists to be informed, that these fish run into the inland lakes to spawn, and they do it of course ■with the rise of the water. These everflows are annual. A few years since the season was very singular, and there were three distinct rises and falls of water, and at each rise the fish followed the water inland, and spawned: a remark- able example where the usual order of nature was reversed in one instance, and yet continuing blindly consistent in another. It is also very remarkable that the young fish, native of the lakes, are as interested to mark the indications of falling water as those that coine into them ; and in a long series of years of observation, but one fall was ever known before the fish had left the lakes. ARROW-FISHING. 59 however, are covered with innumerable bubbles, either floating about, or breaking into little circling ripples. To the superficial observer, these air-bubbles mean little or nothing; to the arrow-fisherman they are the very language of his art ; visible writing upon the un- stable water, unfolding the secrets of the depths below, and guiding him, with unerring certainty, in his pur- suits. Seat yourself quietly in this little skiff", and while I paddle quietly out into the lake, I will translate to you these apparent wonders, and give you a lesson in the simj)le language of nature. " An air-bubble is an air-bubble," you say, and "your fine distinctions must be in the imagination." Well ! then mark how stately ascends that large globule of air ; if you will time each succeeding one by your watch, you will find that while they appear, it is at regular intervals, and when they burst upon the surface of the water, there is the least spray in the world spark- ling for an instant in the sun. Now, yonder, if you will observe, are very minute bubbles that seem to simmer towards the surface. Could 3'ou catch the air of the first bubble we noticed, and give it to an ingenious chemist^ he would tell you that it was a light gas, that exhaled from decaying vegetable matter. The arrow-fisherman will tell you that it comes from an old stump, and is denominated a dead bubble. That " simmering " was made by some comfortable turtle, as 60 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. he opened his mouth and gave his breath to the sur- rounding element. Look ahead of you : when did you ever see an Ar- chimedean screw more beautifully marked out than by that group of bubbles ? They are very light, indeed, and seem thus gracefully to struggle into the upper world ; they denote the eager workings of some terrapin in the soft mud at the bottom of the lake. In the shade of yonder lusty oak, you will perceive what arrow-fisher- men call a "feed;" you see that the bubbles are entirely unlike any we have noticed ; they come rushing upwards swiftly, like handfuls of silver shot. They are lively and animated to look at, and are caused by the fish be- low, as they, around the root of that very oak, search for insects for food. To those bubbles the arrow-fisher- man hastens for game ; they are made by the fish that he calls legitimate for his sport. In early spring the fish are discovered, not only by the bubbles they make, but by various sounds, uttered while searching for food. These sounds are familiar- ized, and betray the kind of fish that make them. In late spring, from the middle of May to June, the fish come near the surface of the water, and expose their mouths to the air, keeping up, at the same time, a con- stant motion with it, called " piping." Fish thus exposed are in groups, and are called a " float." The cause of this phenomenon is hard to ex- plain, all reasons given being unsatisfactory. As it is ARROW-FISHING. 61 only exhibited in the hottest of weather, it may be best accounted for in the old verse : " The sun, from its perpendicular height, Illumined the depths of the sea ; The fishes, beginning to sweat, Ci'y, 'Dang it, how hot we shall be ! * " There are several kinds of jBsh that attract the at- tention of the arrow-fishermen. Two kinds only are professedly pursued, the " carp " and the "bufi'alo." Several others, however, are attacked for the mere pur- pose of amusement, among which we may mention a spe- cies of perch, and the most extraordinary of all fish, the 6' The carp is a fish known to all anglers. Its habits must strike every one familiar with them, as being emi- nently in harmony with the retreats we have described. In these lakes they vary in weight from five to thirty pounds, and are preferred bv arrow-fishermen to all other fish. The " buffalo," a sort of fresh-water sheep's-head, is held next in estimation. A species of perch is also taken, that vary from three to ten pounds, in weight ; but as they are full of bones and coarse in flesh, they are killed simply to test the skill of the arrow-fisher- man. * The carp, to which we allude, is so accurately described in its habits in "Blane's Encyclopedia of Rural Sports," when 62 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. The incredible increase of fishes has been a matter of immemorial observation. In the retired lakes and streams we speak of, but for a wise arrangement of Providence, it seems not improbable that they would outgrow the very space occupied by the element in which they exist, To prevent this consummation, there are fresh water fiends, more terrible than the wolves and tigers of the land, that prowl on the finny tribe, with an appetite commensurate with their pleutifulness, destroy- ing millions in a day, yet leaving, from their abundance, untold numbers to follow their habits and the cycle of their existence undisturbed. These terrible destroyers have no true representatives in the sea ; they seem to be peculiar to waters tributary to the Mississippi. speaking of the European carp, that we are tempted to make one or two extracts that are remarkable for their truthfulness as applied to the section of the United States where arrow- fishing is a sport. In the work we allude to, we have the fol- lowing : "The usual length of the carp in our own country (England) is from about twelve to fifteen or sixteen inches ; but in warm climates, it often arrives at tbe length of two, three, or four feet, and to the weight of twenty, thirty, or even forty pounds." Par. 3448. Again, "The haunts of the cai'p of stagnant water are, during the spring and autumn months, in the deepest parts, particularly near the flood-gates by which water is received and let off. In the summer months they frequent the weed beds, and come near to the surface, and particularly are fond of aquatic plants, which spring from the bottom and rise to the top." Par. 3453. AVe find that the fish retains the same distinctive habits in both hemispheres, altering only from the peculiarities of the country. ARROW-FISHING. 63 There are two kinds of them, alike in office, but distinct in species ; they are known by those who fish in the streams which they inhabit as the "gar." They are, ^hen grown to their full size, twelve or fifteen feet in length, voracious monsters to look at, so well made for strength, so perfectly protected from assault, so capable of inflict- ing injury. The smaller kind, growing not larger than six feet, have a body that somewhat resembles in form the pike, covered by what looks more like large, flat heads of wrought iron, than scales, which it is impossi- ble to remove without cutting them out— they are so deeply imbedded in the flesh. The jaws of this mon- ster, form about one fourth of its whole length; they are shaped like the bill of a goose, armed in the interior with triple rows of teeth, as sharp, and well set, as those of a saw. But the terror, is the '• alligator gar," a monster that seems to combine all the most destructive powers of the shark and the reptile. The alligator gar grows to the enormous length of fifteen feet; its head resembles the alligator's; within its wide-extended jaws glisten in- numerable rows of teeth, running, in solid columns, down into its very throat. Blind in its instinct to de- stroy, and singularly tenacious of life, it seems to prey with untiring energy, and with an appetite that is in- creased by gratification. Such are the fish, that are made victims of the mere sport of the arrow-fisherman. G4 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. The implements of the arrow-fisherman are a strong bow, five or six feet long, made of black locust or of cedar (the latter being preferred), and an arrow of ash, three feet long, pointed with an iron spear of peculiar construction. The spear is eight inches long, one end has a socket, in which is fitted loosely the wooden shaft ; the other end is a flattened point ; back of this point there is inserted the barb, which shuts into the iron as it enters an object, but will open if attempted to be drawn out. The whole of this iron-work weighs three ounces. A cord, about the size of a crow-quill, fifteen or twenty feet long, is attached to the spear, by which is held the fish when struck. 1 Of the water-craft used in arrow-fishing, much might be said, as it introduces the common Indian canoe, or as it is familiarly termed, the '' dug out," which is nothing more than a trunk of a tree, shaped according to the hu- mor or taste of its artificer, and hollowed out. We have seen some of these rude barks that claimed but one degree of beauty or utility beyond the common log, and we have seen others as gracefully turned as was ever the bosom of the loving swan, and that would, as gracefully as Leda's bird, spring through the rippling waves. ARROW FISHING. 65 The arrow-fisher prefers a canoe with very little rake, quite flat on the bottom, and not more than fifteen feet long, so as to be quickly turned. Place in this simple craft the simpler paddle, lay beside it the arrow, the bow, the cord, and you have the whole outfit of the ar- row-fisherman. To the uninitiated, the guidance of a canoe Is a mys- tery. The grown-up man, who first attempts to move on skates over the glassy ice, has a command of his limbs, and a power of locomotion, that the novice in canoe navi- gation has not. Never at rest, it seems to rush from under his feet ; overbalanced by an overdrawn breath, it precipitates its victim into the water. Every efl"ort renders it more and more unmanageable, until it is con- demned as worthless. But, let a person accustomed to its movements take it in charge, and it gayly launches into the stream ; whether standing or sitting, the master has it entirely under his control, moving any way with a quickness, a pliability, quite wonderful, forward, sideways, back- wards ; starting oif in an instant, or while at the great- est speed, instantly stopping still, and doing all this more perfectly, than with any other water-craft of the world. In arrow-fishing, two persons are only employed ; each one has his work designated — " the paddler" and " bowman." Before the start is made, a perfect understanding is 66 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUx\TER. had, so that their movements aTe governed by signs. The delicate canoe is pushed into the lake, its occupants scarcely breathe to get it balanced, the paddler is seated in its bottom, near its centre, where he remains, govern- ing the canoe in all its motions, without eve?' taking the paddle from the water. The fisherman stands at the bow ; around the wrist of his left hand is fastened, by a loose loo]3, the cord at- tached to the arrow, which cord is wound around the forefinger of the same hand, so that when paying off, it will do so easily. In the same hand is, of course, held the bow. In the right is carried the arrow, and, by its significant pointing, the paddler gives directions for the movements of the canoe. The craft glides along, scarcely making a ripple ; a " feed " is discovered, over which the canoe stops ; the bowman draws his arrow to the head ; the game, dis- turbed, is seen in the clear water rising slowly and per- pendicularly, but otherwise perfectly motionless ; the arrow speeds its way ; in an instant the shaft shoots into the air, and floats quietly away, while the wounded fish, carrying the spear in its body, endeavours to escape. The '■' pull ■' is managed so as to come directly from the bow of the canoe ; it lasts but for a moment before the transfixed fish is seen, fins playing, and full of ago- nizing life, dancing on the top of the water, and in an- other instant more lies dead at the bottom of the canoe. /v- ''<^V Del kso*^ tbert " The bowman iliavvs his aiiow ti) the head."— pt/gfe 6G. ) ARllOW FISHING. 67 The shaft is then gone after, picked up, and thrust into the spear ; the cord is again adjusted, and the canoe moves towards the merry makers of those swift ascend- ing bubbles, so brightly displaying themselves on the edge of that deep shade, cast by yonder evergreen oak. There is much in the associations of arrow-fishing that gratifies taste, and makes it partake of a refined and intellectual character. Beside the knowledge it gives of the character of fishes, it practises one in the curious refractions of water. Thus wdll the arrow-fish- erman, from long experience, drive his pointed shaft a fathom deep for game, when it would seem, to the nov- ice, that a few inches would be more than sufiicient. Again, the waters that supply the arrow-fisherman with game, afford subsistence to innumerable birds, and he has exhibited before him, the most beautiful displays of their devices to catch the finny tribe. The kingfisher may be seen the livelong day, acting a prominent part, bolstering up its fantastic topknot, as if to apologize for a manifest want of neck ; you can hear him always scolding and clamorous among the low brush, and overhanging limits of trees, eyeing the min- nows as they glance along the shore, and making vain essays to fasten them in his bill. The hawk, too, often swoops down from the clouds, swift as the bolt of Jove ; the cleft air whistles in the flight : the sportive fish, playing in the sunlight, is snatched up in the rude talons, and borne aloft, the 68 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. reeking water from its scaly sides falling in soft spray upon the upturned eye that traces its daring course. But we treat of fish, and not of birds. Yonder is our canoe ; the paddle has stopped it short, just where you see those faint bubbles; the water is very deep beneath them, and reflects the frail bark and its occupants, as clearly as if they were floating in mid air. The bowman looks into the water — the fish are out of sight, and not disturbed by the intrusion above them. They are eating busily, judging from the ascending bubbles. The bowman lets fall the " heel " of his arrow on the bottom of the canoe, and the bubbles instantly cease. The slight tap has made a great deal of noise in the water, though scarcely heard out of it. There can be seen rising to the surface a tremendous carp. How qui- etly it comes upwards, its pectoral fins playing like the wings of the sportive butterfly. Another moment, and the cold iron is in its body. Paralyzed for an -instant, the fish rises to the surface as if dead, then, recovering itself, it rushes downwards, until the cord that holds it prisoner tightens, and makes the canoe tremble ; the eff"ort has destroyed it, and without another struD-gle it is secured. When the fish first come into the lakes, they move in pairs on the surface of the water, and while so doing they are shot, as it is called, '' flying." In early spring fifteen or twenty fish are secured in ARROW-FISHING. 69 an hour. As the season advances, three or four taken in the same length of time, is considered quite good success. To stand ujDon the shore, and see the arrow-fisherman busily employed, is a very interesting exhibition of skill, and of the picturesque. The little " dug out" seems animate with intelligence ; the bowman draws his long shaft, you see it enter the water, and then follows the glowing sight of the fine fish sparkling in the sun, as if sprinkled with diamonds. At times, too, when legitimate sport tires, some ra- venous gar that heaves in sight, is made a victim ; aim is taken just ahead of his dorsal fin ; secured, he floun- ders a while, and then drags off the canoe as if in har- ness, skimming it almost out of the water with his speed. Fatigued, finally, with his useless endeavours to escape, he will rise to the surface, open his huge mouth, and gasp for air. The water that streams from his jaws will be colored with blood from the impaled fish that still strug-D-le in the terrors of his barbed teeth. Rush- CO ing ahead again, he will, by eccentric movements, try the best skill of the paddler to keep his canoe from overturning into the lake, a consummation not always unattained. The gar finally dies, and is dragged ashore ; this buzzard revels on his carcass, and every piscator contemplates, with disgust, the great enemy to his game, this terrible monarch of the fresh-water seas. The crumbline: character of the alluvial banks that 70 TIIE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. line our southern streams, the quantity of fallen timber, the amount of '' snags" and " sawyers," and the great plentifulness of game, make the beautiful art of angling, as pursued in our Northern States, impossible. The veriest tyro, who finds a delicate reed in every nook that casts a shadow in the water, with his rough line, and coarser hook, can catch fish. The greedy perch, in all its beautiful varieties, swim eagerly and swiftly around the snare, and swallow it, without sus- picion that a worm is not a worm, or that appearances are ever deceitful. The jointed rod, the scientific reel, cannot be used ; the thick hanging bough, the rank grass, the sunken log, the far reaching Qnelumbium, the ever still water, make these delicate appliances useless. Arrow-fishing only, of all the angling in the interior streams of the southwest, comparatively speaking, claims the title of an art, as it is pursued with a skill and a thorough knowledge that tell only with the experienced, and to the novice, is an impossibility. The originators of arrow-fishino; deserve the credit of striking out a rare and beautiful amusement, when the difficulties of securing their game did not require it, showing that it resulted in the spirit of true sport alone. The origin of arrow-fishing we know not ; the coun- try where it is pursued is comparatively of recent set- tlement ; scarce three generations have passed away within its boundaries. ARROW-FISHING. 71 We asked the oldest piscator that lived in the vici- nity of these " dry lakes," for information regarding the early history of arrow-fishing, and he told us, that it was " invented by old Uncle Zac," and gave us his history in a brief and pathetic manner, concluding his reminis- cences of the great departed, as follows : " Uncle Zac never know'd nothing 'bout flies, or tick- ling trout, but it took him to tell the difference 'twixt a yarth worm, a grub, or the young of a w^asp's nest ; in fact, he know'd fishes amazin', and bein' natur-ally a hunter, he went to shooten 'em wHtli a bow and arrer, to keep up yerly times in his history, when he tuck Inguns and other varmints, in the same way." THE BIG BEAR OF AEKANSAS. A STEAMBOAT Oil the Mississippi, frequently , in making her regular trips, carries between places varying from one to two thousand miles apart ; and, as these boats advertise to land passengers and freight at "all inter- mediate landings," the heterogeneous character of the passengers of one of these up-country boats can scarcely be imagined by one who has never seen it with his own eyes. Starting from New Orleans in one of these boats, you will find yourself associated with men from every State in the Union, and from every portion of the globe; and a man of observation need not lack for amusement or instruction in such a crowd, if he will take the trouble to read the great book of character so favorably opened before him. Here may be seen, jostling together, the wealthy WHIfNt ' v.. -L Tbe Bii.' Bear of Arkansas. THE BIG BEAR OF ARKANSAS. 73 Southern planter and the pedler of tin-ware from New England — the Northern merchant and the Southern jockey — a venerable bishop, and a desperate gambler — the land speculator, and the honest farmer — professional men of all creeds and characters — Wolvereens, Suckers, Hoosiers, Buckeyes, and Corncrackers, beside a "plen- tiful sprinkling " of the half-horse and half- alligator species of men, who are peculiar to " old Mississippi," and who appear to gain a livelihood by simply going up and down the river. In the pursuit of pleasure or busi- ness, I have frequently found myself in such a crowd. On one occasion, when in New Orleans, I had occa- sion to take a trip of a few miles up the Mississippi, and I hurried on board the well-known " high-pressure- and-beat-every-thing " steamboat " Invincible," just as the last note of the last bell was sounding ; and when the confusion and bustle that is natural to a boat's getting under way had subsided, I discovered that I was associated in as heterogeneous a crowd as was ever got together. As my trip was to be of a few hours' duration only, I made no endeavors to become acquainted with my fellow-passengers, most of whom would be to- gether many days. Instead of this, I took out of my pocket the " latest paper," and more critically than usual examined its contents ; my fellow-passengers, at the same time, disposed of themselves in little groups. While I was thus busily employed in reading, and my companions were more busily still employed, in 4 74 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. discussing such subjects as suited their humors best, we were most unexpectedly startled by a loud Indian whoop, uttered in the ''social hall," that part of the cabin fitted off for a bar ; then was to be heard a loud crowing, which would not have continued to interest us — such sounds being (j^uite common in that place of spirits — had not the hero of these windy accomplish- ments stuck his head into the cabin, and hallooed out, " Hurra for the Big Bear of Arkansaw ! " Then might be heard a confused hum of voices, un- intelligible, save in such broken sentences as " horse," " screamer," " lightning is slow," &c. As might have been expected, this continued inter- ruption, attracted the attention of every one in the cabin ; all conversation ceased, and in the midst of this surprise, the " Big Bear " walked into the cabin, took a chair, put his feet on the stove, and looking back over his shoul- der, passed the general and familiar salute — " Strangers, how are you ?" He then expressed himself as much at home as if he had been at " the Forks of Cypress," and " prehaps a little more so." Some of the company at this familiarity looked a little angry, and some astonished ; but in a moment every face was wreathed in a smile. There was some- thing about the intruder that won the heart on sight. He appeared to be a man enjoying perfect health and contentment ; his eyes were as sparkling as diamonds. 4 THE BIG BEAR OF ARKANSAS. 75 and good-natured to simplicity. Then his perfect con- fidence in himself was irresistibly droll. " Prehaps," said he, " gentlemen," running on without a person interrupting, " prehaps you have been to New Orleans often ; I never made the first visit before, and I don't intend to make another in a crow's life. I am thrown away in that ar place, and useless, that ar a fact. Some of the gentlemen thar called me green — well, pre- haps I am, said I, but I arrCt so at home ; and if I aint off my trail much, the heads of them perlite chaps them- selves wern't much the hardest ; for according to my notion, they were real know-nothings, green as a pump- kin-vine — couldn't, in farming, I'll bet, raise a crop of turnips ; and as for shooting, they'd miss a barn if the door was swinging, and that, too, with the best rifle in the country. And then they talked to me 'bout hunt- ing, and laughed at my calling the principal game in Arkansaw poker, and high-low- jack. " ' Prehaps,' said I, ' you prefer checkers and roulette ;' at this they laughed harder than ever, and asked me if I lived in the woods, and didn't know what game was ? " At this, I rather think / laughed. " ' Yes,' I roared, and says, I, ' Strangers, if you'd asked me how we got our meat in Arkansaw, I'd a told you at once, and given you a list of varmints that would make a caravan, beginning with the bar, and ending off with the cat ; that's m^at though, not game. " G-ame, indeed, — that's what city folks call it ; and 76 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. with them it means chippen-birds and shite-pokes ; may be such trash live in my diggins, but I arn't noticed them yet : a bird anyway is too trifling. I never did shoot at but one, and I'd never forgiven myself for that, had it weighed less than forty pounds. I wouldn't draw a rifle on any thing less heavy than that ; and when I meet with another wild turkey of the same size, I will drap him." " A wild turkey weighing forty pounds ! " exclaimed twenty voices in the cabin at once. " Yes, strangers, and wasn't it a whopper ? You see, the thing was so fat that it couldn't fly far ; and when he fell out of the tree, after I shot him, on striking the ground he bust open behind, and the way the pound gobs of tallow rolled out of the opening was perfectly beautiful." " Where did all that happen ? " asked a cynical-look- ing Hoosier. " Happen ! happened in Arkansaw : where else could it have happened, but in the creation State, the finishing-up country — a State where the sile runs down to the centre of the 'arth, and government gives you a title to every inch of it ? Then its airs — ^just breathe them, and they will make you snort like a horse. It's a State without a fault, it is." " Excepting mosquitoes," cried the Hoosier. " Well, stranger, except them ; for it ar a fact that they nre rather cnor^nous^ and do push themselves in THE BIG BEAR OF ARKANSAS. 77 somewhat troublesome. But, stranger, they never stick twice in the same place ; and give them a fair chance for a few months, and you will get as much above no- ticiEg them as an alligator. They can't hurt my feel- ings, for they lay under the skin ; and I never knew but one case of injury resulting from them, and that was to a Yankee : and they take worse to foreigners, any how, than they do to natives. But the way they used that fellow up ! first they punched him until he swelled up and busted ; then he sup-per-a-ted, as the doctor called it, until he was as raw as beef; then, owing to the warm weather, he tuck the ager, and finally he tuck a steamboat and left the country. He was the only man that ever tuck mosquitoes at heart that I knowd of. " But mosquitoes is natur, and I never find fault with her. If they ar large, Arkansaw is large, her var- mints ar large, her trees ar large, her rivers ar large, and a small mosquito would be of no more use in Ar- kansaw than preaching in a cane-brake." This knock-down argument in favor of big mos- quitoes used the Hoosier up, and the logician started on a new track, to explain how numerous bear were in his " diggins," where he represented them to be " about as plenty as blackberries, and a little plentifuller." Upon the utterance of this assertion, a timid little man near me inquired, if the bear in Arkansaw ever attacked the settlers in numbers ? " No,"' said our hero, warming with the subject, " no, 78 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. stranger, for you see it ain't the natur of bear to go in droves ; but the way they squander about in pairs and single ones is edifying. " And then the way I hunt them — the old black.^.j^g- cals know the crack of my gun as well as they know a pig's squealing. They grow thin in our parts, it fright- ens them so, and they do take the noise dreadfully, poor things. That gun of mine is a perfect epidemic among bQar : if not watched closely, it will ga off as quick on a warm scent as my dog Bowieknife will : and then that dog — whew ! why the fellow thinks that the world is full of bear, he finds them so easy. It's lucky he don't talk as well as think ; for with his natural modesty, if he should suddenly learn how much he is acknowledged to be ahead of all other dogs in the universe, he would be astonished to death in two minutes. " Strangers, that dog knows a bear's way as well as a horse-jockey knows a woman's : he always barks at the right time, bites at the exact place, and whips without getting a scratch. " I never could tell whether he was made expressly to hunt bear, or whether bear was made expressly for him to hunt ; any way, I believe they were ordained to go together as naturally as Squire Jones says a man and woman is, when he moralizes in marrying a couple. In fact, Jones once said, said he, ' Marriage according to law is a civil contract of divine origin ; it's common to all countries as well as Arkansaw, and people take to it THE BIG BEAR OF ARKANSAS. 79 as naturally as Jim Doggett's Bowieknife takes to bear.'" " "What season of the year do your hunts take place?" inquired a gentlemanly foreigner, who, from some peculiarities of his baggage, I suspected to be an Englishman, on some hunting expedition, probably at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. " The season for bear hunting, stranger," said the man of Arkansaw, " is generally all the year round, and the hunts take place about as regular. I read in his- tory that varmints have their fat season, and their lean season. That is not the case in Arkansaw, feeding as they do upon the sjjontenacious productions of the sile, they have one continued fat season the year round ; though in winter things in this way is rather more greasy than in summer, I must admit. For that reason bear with us run in warm weather, but in winter they only waddle. " Fat, fat ! its an enemy to speed ; it tames every thing that has plenty of it. I have seen wild turkeys, from its influence, as gentle as chickens. Run a bear in this fat condition, and the way it improves the critter for eating is amazing ; it sort of mixes the ile up with the meat, until you can't tell t'other from which. I've done this often. " I recollect one perty morning in particular, of putting an old he fellow on the stretch, and considering the weight he carried, he run well. But the dogs soon 80 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. tired him down, and when I came up with him wasn't he in a beautiful sweat — I might say fever ; and then to see his tongue sticking out of his mouth a feet, and his sides sinking and opening like a bellows, and his cheeks so fat that he couldn't look cross. In this fix I blazed at him, and pitch me naked into a briar patch, if the steam didn't come out of the bullet-hole ten foot in a straight line. The fellow, I reckon, was made on the high-pressure system, and the lead sort of bust his biler." " That column of steam was rather curious, or else the bear must have been very ivarm^'' observed the for- eigner, with a laugh. " Stranger, as you observe, that bear was warm, and the blowing off of the steam show'd it, and also how hard the varmint had been run. I have no doubt if he had kept on two miles farther his insides would have been stewed ; and I expect to meet with a varmint yet of ex- tra bottom, that will run himself into a skinfuU of bear's grease : it is possible ', much onlikelier things have happened." " Whereabouts r.re these bears so abundant ? " in* quired the foreigner, with increasing interest. " Why, stranger, they inhabit the neighborhood of my settlement, one of the prettiest places on old Mis- sissipp — a perfect location, and no mistake ; a place that had some defects until the river made the ' cut-off ' at ' Shirt-tail bend,' and that remedied the evil, as it THE BIG BEAR OF ARKANSAS. 81 brought my cabin on the edge of the river — a great ad- vantage in wet weather, I assure you, as you can now roll a barrel of whiskey into my yard in high water from a boat, as easy as falling off a log. It's a great improve- ment, as toting it by land in a jug, as 1 used to do, eva- porated it too fast, and it became expensive. " Just stop with me, stranger, a month or two, or a year, if you like, and you will appreciate my place. I can give you plenty to eat ; for beside hog and hominy, you can have bear-ham, and b<'S/^ "246. PLACE DE LA CROIX. 247 for Rousseau, his prowess and influence left him in un- disputed possession. As he examined the little trinket, the Indian girl we have spoken of, the only female near Rousseau, crossed her delicate fingers, and pointed up- ward. The old chief instantly beheld the similarity be- tween the large and small symbol of Christianity ; and extending it aloft, with all the dignity of a cardinal, the crowd shouted as they saw the resemblance, and a change came over them all. They associated at once the erection of the large cross with Rousseau ; and as their shout had again called forth exhibitions of life from his insensible form, they threw his cloak over him, suspended the cross to his neck, brought, in a moment, green boughs, with which a litter was made, and bore him with all respect toward their lodges. The excitement and exercise of removal did much to restore him to life ; a dish of maize did more ; and nothing could exceed his astonishment on his recovery, that he should be treated with such kindness ; and as he witnessed the respect paid the cross, and was shown by rude gestures, that he owed his life to its influence, he sank upon his knees, overwhelmed with its visible exhibition of power, and satisfied that his prayer for safety had been answered by the accomplish- ment of a miracle. The Choctaws, into whose hands the unfortunate Rousseau had fallen (although he was not aware of the difi"erence), were of a kinder nature than the Cherokees, from whom he had so lately escaped. 248 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTEK. Years before, the inhabitants of the little village, on their return from a hunting expedition, discovered the cross we have described ; its marks then were such as would be exhibited a few days after its erection. Footsteps were seen about its base, which, from their variance with the mark left by the moccasin, satisfied the Indians that it was not erected by any of their people. The huge limbs that had been shorn from the trunk bore fresh marks of terrible cuts, which the stone hatchet could not have made. As is natural to the Indian mind, on the display of power which they cannot explain, they appropriately, though accidentally, associated the cross with the Great Spirit, and looked upon it with wonder and admiration. Beside the cross there was found an axe, left by those who had used it. This was an object of the greatest curiosity to its finders. They struck it into the trees, severed huge limbs, and performed other pow- erful feats with it, and yet fancied that their own rude stone instruments failed to do the same execution, from want of a governing spirit, equal to that which they imagined presided over the axe, and not from difference of material. The cross and the axe were associated together in the Indians' minds ; and the crucifix of Rousseau con- nected him with both. They treated him, therefore, with all the attention they would bestow upon a being who is master of a superior power. PLACE DE LA CROIX. 249 The terrible and strange incidents that had formed the life of Rousseau, since the defeat of his military associate, D'Arteguette, seemed to him, as he recalled them in his mind, to have occupied an age. His dreams were filled with scenes of torment and death. He would start from his sleep with the idea that an arrow was pen- etrating his body, or that the bloody knife was at his heart ; these were then changed into visions of starva- tion, or destruction by wild beasts. Recovering his senses, he would find himself in a comfortable lodge, reposing on a couch of soft skins ; while the simple children of the woods, relieved of their terrors, were waiting to administer to his wants. The change from the extreme of suffering to that of comfort, he could hardly realize. The cross in the wilderness, the respect they paid to the one upon his breast, were alike inexplicable ; and Rousseau, according to the spirit of his age, felt that a miracle had been wrought in his favor : and on his bended knees he renewed his ecclesiastical vows, and determined to devote his life to enlightening and chris- tianizing the people among whom Providence had placed him. The Indian girl who first discovered Rousseau, was the only child of a powerful chief. She was still a maiden, and the slavish labor of savage married life had, consequently, not been imposed upon her. 11* 250 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. Among her tribe she was universally considered beautiful ; and her hand had been vainly sought by all the young " braves " of her tribe. Wayward, or indifferent to please, she resolutely re- fused to occupy any lodge but her father's, however eli- gible and enviable the settlement might have appeared in the eyes of her associates. For an Indian girl she was remarkably gentle ; and, as Eousseau gradually recovered his strength, he had, through her leisure, more frequent intercourse with her than with any other of the tribe. There was also a feel- ing in his breast that she was, in the hands of an over- ruling Providence, the instrument used to preserve his life. Whatever might have been the speculations of the elders of the tribe, as day after day E-ousseau court- ed her society and listened to the sounds of her voice, we do not know ; but his attentions to her were indi- rectly encouraged, and the Indian girl was almost con- stantly at his side. Rousseau's plans were formed. The painful expe- rience he had encountered, while following the ambition of worldly greatness, had driven him back into the se- clusion of the church, with a love only to end with his life. He determined to learn the dialect of the people in whose lot his life was cast, and form them into a nation of worthy recipients of the "Holy Church;" and the gentle Indian girl was to him a preceptor, to teach him PLACE DE LA CROIX. 251 her language. With this high resolve, he repeated the sounds of her voice, imitated her gesticulations, and en- couraged, with marked preference, her society. The few weeks passed by Rousseau among the Choctaws, had made him one bitter, implacable enemy. Unable to explain his office or his intentions, his prefer- ence for Chechoula, had been marked by the keen eye of a jealous and rejected lover. Wah-a-ola was a young '• brave," who had distin- guished himself on the hunting and war paths. Young as he was, he had won a name. Three times he had laid the trophies of his prowess at the feet of Chechoula, and as often she had rejected his suit. Astonished at his want of success, he looked upon his mistress as la- boring under the influence of some charm, for he could find no accepted rival for her hand. The presence of Rousseau — the marked preference which Chechoula exhibited for his society, settled, in his own mind, that the " pale face " was the charmer. With this conviction, he placed himself conveniently to meet his mistress, and once more pleaded his suit before he exhibited the feelings of hatred which he felt towards Rousseau. The lodge of Chechoula's father was, from the dignity of the chief, at the head of the Indian village, and at some little distance. The impa- tient Wah-a-ola seated himself near its entrance, where, from his concealment, he could watch whoever entered its door. A short time only elapsed, before he saw, in 252 TirE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. the cold moonlight, a group of Indian girls approaching the Indian lodge, in busy conversation, and conspicu- ously among them all, Chechoula. Her companions separated from her, and as she en- tered her fathers's lodge, a rude buffalo skin shut her in. Soon after her disappearance, the little groups about the Indian village gradually dispersed ; the busy hum of conversation ceased ; and when profound stillness reigned, a plaintive note of the whip-poor-will was heard ; it grew louder and louder, until it appeared as if the lone bird was perched on the top of the lodge that contained Chechoula. It attracted her ear, for she thrust aside the buffalo-skin, and listened with fixed attention. The bird screamed, and appeared to flutter, as if wounded. Chechoula rushed toward the bushes that seemed to conceal so much distress, when Wah-a-ola sprang up and seized her wrist. The affrighted girl stared at her cap- tor for a moment, and then exclaimed, " The snake should not sing like the birds ! " Wah-a-ola relaxed not his hold ; there was a volcano in his breast, that seemed to overwhelm him as he glared upon Chechoula with blood-shot eyes. Struggling to conceal his emotion, he replied to her question, by ask- ing " If the wild-flowers of the woods were known only to their thorns ? " " The water-lilies grow upon smooth stones," said Chechoula, striving violently to retreat to her father's lodge. PLACE DE LA CROIX. 253 The love of Wah-a-ola was full of jealousy, and the salute and reply of his mistress converted it into hate. Dashing his hand across his brow, on which the savage workings of his passion were plainly visible, he asked, if " a brave " was to whine for a woman like a bear for its cubs ? " Go ! " said he, flinging Chechoula's arm from him : " go ! The mistletoe grows not upon young trees, and the pale face shall be a rabbit in the den of the wolf ! " From the time that Rousseau was able to walk, he had made a daily pilgrimage to the cross, and there, upon his bended knees, greeted the morning sun. This habit was known to all the tribe. The morning follow- ing the scene between Wah-a-ola and Chechoula, he was found dead at the foot of the sacred tree. A poisoned arrow had been driven almost through his body. Great was the consternation of the Choctaws. It was considered a mysterious evidence of impending evil ; while not a single person could divine who was the mur- derer. " The mistletoe grows not upon young trees ! " thought Chechoula ; and for the first time she knew the full meaning of the words, as she bent over the body of Rousseau. She attended his obsequies with a sorrow less visible, but more deep, than that of her people ; al- though the whole tribe had, in the short residence of the departed, learned to respect him, and to look upon him as a great " Medicine." His grave was dug where he 254 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. had so often prayed, and the same sod covered him that drank his heart's blood. According to Indian custom, all that he possessed, as well as those articles appropriated to his use, were buried with him in his grave. His little crucifix re- posed upon his breast, and he was remembered as one who had mysteriously come, and as' mysteriously passed away. A few years after the events we have detailed, a Jesuit missionary, who understood the Choctaw lan- guage, announced his mission to the tribe, and was by them kindly received. His presence revived the recollec- tions of Rousseau, and the story of his having been among them was told. The priest explained to them his office, and these wild people, in a short time, erected over the remains of E-ousseau a rude chapel ; his spirit was called upon as their patron saint, and Chechoula was the first to renounce the superstitions of her tribe, and receive the Holy Sacrament of Baptism. In the year 1829, a small brass cross was picked out of the banks of the Mississippi, near Natchez, at the depth of several feet from the surface. The crucifix was in tolerable preservation, and was exposed by one of those cavings of the soil so peculiar to the Mississippi. The speculations which the finding of this cross called forth, revived the almost forgotten traditions of the story of Rousseau, and of his death and burial at the Place De La Croix. OPOSSUM HUNTING. An opossum was made to represent the class of natural lusus naturcB^ for they are certainly the most singular, inexplicable little animals that live. In their creation, Dame Nature seems to have shown a willingness, if ne- cessary, to be ridiculous, just for the sake of introducing a new fashion. We will not, however, go into particu- lars, for we might infringe upon the details of " breed- ing," and thereby " o'erstep the modesty of nature." One of the peculiarities of the opossum that attracts to it general attention, is the singular pouch they have under the belly, in which their young are carried before their complete development, and also into which they retreat when alarmed by the approach of danger. This particular organ contains in its interior, ten or twelve teats, to which the 3'oung, after what seems a premature birth, are attached, and where they hang for about fifty days, then drop off, and commence a more active state of existence. 256 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER, This animal evidently varies in size in different lati- tudes. In Louisiana they grow quite large compared with those inhabiting more northern climates. The opossum ranges in length from twelve to fifteen inches, the tail is about the same extent. The body is covered with a rough coating of white, gray, and brown hair, so intermixed and rough, that it makes the animal look as if it had been wet and then drawn through a coal- hole or ash-heap. The feet, the ears, and the snout are naked. The organs of sense and motion in this little animal seem to be exceedingly dull. Their eyes are prominent, hanging like black beads out of their sockets, and ap- pear to be perfectly destitute of lids, with a pupil simi- lar to those of a cat, which shows that they are suited to midnight depredations. The nostrils of the opossum are evidently well de- veloped, and upon the smell almost exclusively, is it de- pendent for its preservation. The ears look as if they were pieces of dark or soft kid skin, rolled up and fas- tened in their proper places. The mouth is exceedingly large and unmeaning, and ornamented with innumerable sharp teeth, yet there is very little strength in the jaws. The paws or hands of the animal are the seat of its most delicate sensibility, and in their construction are developed some of the most wonderful displays of the ingenuity of an All-wise Providence, to overcome the OPOSSUM HUNTING. 257 evident inferiority of the other parts of the animal's construction. The opossum makes a burrow in the ground, gene- rally found near habitations. In the day time it sleeps, and prowls at night. The moon in its brilliancy seems to dazzle it, for under the bright rays of the queen of night it is often knocked on the head by the negro hunt- er, without apparently perceiving it has an enemy near. The habits of the opossum generally resemble those of the " coon •' and fox, though they are, as might be supposed from our imperfect description, infinitely less intelligent in defending themselves against the attack of an enemy. Knock an opossum on the head or any part of the body, with a weapon of any kind, small or great, and if he makes any resistance at all, he will en- deavor to bite the weapon, instead of the agent using it. The opossum is, in fact, a harmless little creature, and seems to belong to some peace society, the members of which have agreed to act toward the world as the boy promised to do with the bull-dog, " If you will let me alone, I won't trouble you." Put the animal in a critical situation, and he will resort to stratagem instead of force to elude his pur- suers ; for if he finds escape impossible, he will feign himself dead in advance of giving you an opportunity to carry out your destructive intentions toward him ; or when you think you have destroyed him, he will watch 258 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. his opportunity, and unexpectedly recovering his breath, will make his escape. This trick of the little animal has given rise to a proverb of much meaning among those acquainted with his habits, entitled, " playing 'possum," and probably it is as good an illustration of certain deceptive actions of life as can be well imagined. Take an opossum in good health, corner him up un- til escape is impossible, then give him a gentle tap on the body that would hardly crush a mosquito, and he will straighten out, and be, according to all indications, perfectly dead. In this situation you may thump him, cut his flesh, and half skin him ; not a muscle will move ; his eyes are glazed and covered with dust, for he has no eyelids to close over them. You may even worry him with a dog, and satisfy yourself that he is really defunct ; then leave him quiet a moment, and he will draw a thin film from his eyes, and, if not interfered with, be among the missing. An Irishman, meeting with one of these little ani- mals in a public road, was thrown into admiration at its appearance, and on being asked why he did not bring the " thing " home with him, said he : " On sight, I popped him with my shillelah; he died off immadiately, and I thrust the spalpeen into my coat pocket i ' There's a dinner, ony how,' I said to myself; and scarcely had I made the observation, than he com- menced devouring me, biting through my breeches, the OPOSSUM HUNTING. 259 Lord presarve me ! I took him out of my pocket, and gave liim another tap on the head that would have kilt an Orangeman at Donnybrook Fair : ' Take that for a finis, you desateful crater,' said I, slinging him upon my back. Weil, murther, if he didn't have me by the sate of honor in no time. ' Och, ye 'Merica cat, ye, I'll bate the sivin lives out of ye ! ' and at him I wint till the bones of his body cracked, and he was clean kilt. Then catching him by the tail, for fear of accidents, if he didn't turn round and give my thumb a pinch, I'm no Irishman. ' Off wid ye ! ' I hallooed with a shout, ' for some ill-mannered ghost of the divil, with a rat's tail : and if I throubles the likes of ye again, may I ride backwards at my own funeral ! ' " There is one other striking characteristic about the opossum, which, we presume, Shakspeare had a pro- phetic vision of, when he wrote that celebrated sentence, " Thereby hangs a tail ; " for this important appendage, next to its " playing 'possum," is most extraordinary. This tail is long, black, and destitute of hair, and al- though it will not enable its possessor, like the kangaroo, in the language of the showman, " to jump fifteen feet upwards and forty downwards," still it is of great im- portance in climbing trees, and supporting the animal when watching for its prey. By this tail the 'possum suspends itself for hours to a swinging limb of a tree, either for amusement or for the purpose of sleeping, which last he will do while thus 260 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. " hung up," as soundly as if slipping his hold did not depend upon his own will. This " tail hold " is so firm, that shooting the animal will not cause him to let go, even if you blow his head off; on the contrary, he will remain hung up, until the birds of prey and the elements have scattered his carcass to the winds ; and yet the tail will remain an object of unconquered attachment to its last object of circumlocuting embrace. An old backwoods " Boanerges " of our acquaint- ance, who occasionally threw down his lap-stone and awl, and went through the country to stir up the people to look after the " consarns of their latter end," en- forced the necessity of perseverance in good works, by comparing a true Christian to an opossum up a tall sapling, in a strong wind. Said he, " My brethren, that's your situation exactly ; the world, the flesh, and the devil, compose the wind that is trying to blow you off the gospel tree. But don't let go of it ; hold on as a 'possum would in a hurricane. If the fore legs of your passions get loose, hold on by your hind legs of conscientiousness ; and if they let go, hold on eternally by your tail, which is the promise that the saints shall persevere unto the end." As an animal of sport, the opossum is of course of an inferior character ; the negroes, however, look upon the creature as the most perfect of game, and are much astonished that the fox and deer should be preferred ; and the hilarity with which they pursue the sport of OPOSSUM HUNTING. '261 'possum hunting, far excels the enthusiasm of the most inveterate follower after nobler beasts. Fine moonlight nights are generally chosen on such occasions ;. three or four negroes, armed with a couple of axes, and accompanied by a cur dog, who understands his business, will sally out for 'possum hunting, and nothing can be more joyous, than their loud laugh and coarse joke on these midnight hunts. The dog scents the animals, for they are numerous, and " barks up the right tree." A torch made of light wood or pitch pine, is soon diffusing a brilliant light, and the axe is struck into the tree containing the game, — let it be a big tree or a small one, it matters not ; the growth of a century, or of a few years only, yields to the " forerunner of civ- ilization," and comes to the ground. ¥/hile this is going on the dog keeps his eye on the 'possum, barking all the while with the greatest anima- tion. In the mean time, the negroes, as they relieve each other at the work of chopping, make night vocal with laughter and songs, and on such occasions particu- larly, will you hear " Sitting on a Rail," cavatina fash- ion, from voices that would command ten thousand a year from any opera manager on the Continent. The tree begins to totter ; the motion is new to the 'possum, and as it descends, the little animal instinc- tively climbs to the highest limb. Crash, and off he goes to the ground, and not unfrequently into the very jaws of the dog ; if this is not the case, a short 262 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. steeple chase on foot ensues ; 'possum finds escape im- possible, — feigns himself dead, — falls into the wrong hands, and is at once, really killed. Such is opossum hunting among the negroes, a sport in which more hard labor is got through with in a few hours than will be performed by the same individuals throughout the whole of the next day. Sometimes two or three opossums are killed, — and if a negro is proud of a yellow vest, a sky-blue stock, and red inexpressibles ; with a dead opossum in his possession, he is sub- limated. Among gentlemen, we have seen one occasionally who amuses himself with bringing down an opossum with a rifle, and we have met one who has given the hunt a character, and really reduced it to a science. We were expressing some surprise at the kind manner with which our friend spoke of opossum hunting, and we were disposed to laugh at his taste ; we were told very gravely that we were in the presence of a proficient in 'possum hunting, and if we desired, we should have a specimen at sundown, and by the dignity of the hunt we would be compelled to admit that there were a great many ways of doing the same thing. The proposition came from our host, and we at once consented. The night was dark^ and I noticed this, and spoke of it; and the reply was, that such a night only, would answer the purpose. A half hour's ride brought us into the depths of the forest, and in the extra darkness of OPOSSUM HUNTING. 263 its deep recesses we were piloted by a stout negro bear- ing a torch. Oirr dogs — for there were two of them — soon gave notice that we were in the vicinity of an opos- sum, and finally, directed by their noses — for eyes were of no use — they opened loud and strong, and satisfied us that an opossum was over our heads. At this moment I was completely puzzled to know how we were to get at the animal, I must confess ; we had no axe, and a millstone intervening between the oppossum and our eyes, could not have shut it out of sight more effectually than did the surrounding darkness, which seemed to be growing " thicker " every moment, by contrast with the glaring torch. The negro who accompanied us, without ceremony kindled a large fire about twenty feet from the base of the tree in which our game was lodged, and as soon as it was well kindled and burning merrily, my companion seated himself about forty feet from the base of the tree, bringing the trunk of it directly between himself and the fire. I took a seat by his side by request, and waited patiently to see what would come next. The fire continued to burn each moment more brightly, and the tree that intervened between us and it became more pro- minent, and its dark outline became more and more dis- tinct, until the most minute branch and leaf was per- fectly visible. " Now," said mine host, •' we will have the opos- sum. Do you see that large knotty-looking substance 264 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTEH. on that big limb to the right ? It looks suspicious ; we will speak to it." The sharp report of the rifle followed, and the negro that accompanied us picked up a large piece of bark that fell rattling to the ground. The rifle was reloaded, and another suspicious-looking protuberance was fired at, and another knot was shattered. Again was the rifle reloaded, and the tree more carefully examined. Hardly had its shrill report awakened the echoes of the forest for the third time, before a grunt that would have done honor to a stuck pig was heard, and the solid fat body of the 'possum fell at our feet. The negro picked it up, relit his torch, and we proceeded homeward. When re&eated by a comfortable fire, we were asked our opinion by our host of " a white man's 'possum hunt ; " we expressed our unqualified approbation of the whole afi"air, although we thought at first that any im- provement on the negro's mode of doing the business would be " painting the lily ! " As an article of food the opossum is considered by many a very great luxury ; the flesh, it is said, tastes not unlike roast pig. We should have liked very much to have heard " Elia's " description of a dish of it ; he found sentiment and poetry in a pig, — where would he have soared to over a dish of 'possum ? In cooking the " varmint," the Indians suspend it on a stick by its tail, and in this position they let it roast before the fire ; this mode does not destroy a sort of OPOSSUM HUNTING. 265 oiliness, which makes it to a cultivated taste coarse and unpalatable. The negroes, on the contrary — and, by the way, they are all amateurs in the cooking art — when cooking for themselves, do much better. They bury the body up with sweet potatoes, and as the meat roasts, thus confined, the succulent vegetables draw out all objectionable tastes, and render the opossum " one of the greatest delica- cies in the world." At least, so say a crowd of respect- able witnesses. We profess to have no experience in the matter, not yet having learned to sing with enthusiasm the common negro melody of " Tossum fat and ' tater.' " 12 A ^'HOOSIER^' IN SEARCH OF JUSTICE. About one hundred and twenty miles from New Orleans reposes, in all rural happiness, one of the pleasantest little towns in the south, that reflects itself in the mys- terious waters of the Mississippi. To the extreme right of the town, looking at it from the river, may be seen a comfortable-looking building, surrounded by China trees ; just such a place as senti- mental misses dream of when they have indistinct no- tions of " settling in the world." This little " burban bandbox," however^ is not occu- pied by the airs of love, nor the airs of the lute, but by a strong limb of the law, a gnarled one too, who knuckles down to business, and digs out of the " uncer- tainties of his profession" decisions, and reasons, and causes, and effects, nowhere to be met with, except in the science called, par excellence, the " perfection of hu- man reason." Around the interior walls of this romantic-looking place may be found an extensive library, where all the " statutes," from Moses' time down to the present day, are ranged side by side ; in these musty books the owner revels day and night, digesting " digests," and growing the while sallow, with indigestion. On the evening-time of a fine summer's day, the sage lawyer might have been seen walled in with books and manuscripts, his eye full of thought, and his bald high forehead sparkling with the rays of the setting sun, as if his genius was making itself visible to the senses ; page after page he searched, musty parchments were scanned, an expression of care and anxiety indented itself on the stern features of his face, and with a sigh of despair he desisted from his labors, uttering aloud his feelings that he feared his case was a hopeless one. Then he renewed again his mental labor with tenfold vigor, making the very silence, with which he pursued his thoughts, ominous, as if a spirit were in his presence. The door of the lawyer's office opened, there pressed forward the tall, gaunt figure of a man, a perfect model of physical power and endurance — a western flatboatmau. The lawyer heeded not his presence, and started as if from a dream, as the harsh tones of inquiry, grated upon his ear, of, " Does a 'Squire live here ? " *' They call me so," was the reply, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment. 268 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. " Well, 'Squire," continued the intruder, " I have got a case for you, and I want jestess, if it costs the best load of produce that ever come from In-di-an." The man of the law asked what was the difficulty. " It's this, 'Squire : I'm bound for Orleans, and put in here for coffee and other little fixins ; a chap with a face whiskered up like a prairie dog, says, says he, " ' Stranger, I see you've got cocks on board of your boat — bring one ashore, and I'll pit one against him that'll lick his legs off in less time than you could gaff him.' Well. 'Squire, / 7iever take a clar. Says I, ' Stranger, I'm thar at wunce ;' and in twenty minutes the cocks were on the levee, like parfect saints. " We chucked them together, and my bird, 'Squire, now mind, 'Squire, my bird never struck a lick, not a single blow, but tuck to his heels and run, and by thun- ders, threw up his feed, actewelly vomited. The stake- holder gave up the money agin me, and now I want jestess ; as sure as fogs, my bird was physicked, or he'd stood up to his business like a wild cat." The lawyer heard the story with patience, but flatly refused to have any thing to do with the matter. " Prehaps," said the boatman, drawing out a corpu- lent pocket-book, " prehaps you think I can't pay — here's the money ; help yourself — give me jestess, and draw on my purse like an ox team." To the astonishment of the flatboatman, the lawyer still refused, but unlike many of his profession, gave his A "• HOOSIER " IN SEARCH OF JUSTICE. 269 would-be client, without charge, some general advice about going on board of his boat, shoving oiF for New Orleans, and, abandoning the suit altogether. The flatboatman stared with profound astonishment, and asked the lawyer " If he was a sure enough 'Squire." Receiving an affirmative reply, he pressed every ar- gument he could use, to have him undertake his case and get him "jestess;" but when he found that his efforts were unavailing, he quietly seated himself for the first time, put his hat aside, — crossed his legs, — then looking up to the ceiling with the expression of great patience, he requested the " 'Squire, to read to him the Louisiana laws on cock-fighting," The lawyer said that he did not know of a single statute in the State upon the subject. The boatman started up as if he had been shot, exclaiming — ''No laws in the State on cock-fighting? No, no, 'Squire, you can't possum me ; give us the law." The refusal again followed ; the astonishment of the boatman increased, and throwing himself in a comico- heroic attitude, he waved his long fingers around the sides of the room and asked, " What all them thar books were about ? " "All about the law." " Well then, 'Squire, am I to understand that not one of them thar books contain a single law on cock- fighting ? " " You are." 270 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. " And, 'Squire, am I to understand that thar ain't no laws in Louisiana on cock-fighting ? " " You are." " And am I to understand that you call yourself a 'Squire, and that you don't know any thing about cock- fighting ? " " You are." The astonishment of the boatman at this reply for a moment was unbounded, and then suddenly ceased ; the awe with which he looked upon " the 'Squire " also ceased, and resuming his natural awkward and familiar carriage, he took up his hat, and walking to the door, with a broad grin of supreme contempt in his face, he observed, — " That a 'Squire that did not know the laws of cock- fighting, in his opinion, was distinctly an infernal old chuckel-headed fool ! " MAJOR GASDEN'S STORY. No one told a story better than old Major G-asden — in fact he could detail very commonplace incidents so dramatically, that he would give them a real interest. He had met with a little incident on his first visit to New Orleans, that was to him a source of either con- stant humor or annoyance. Whichever view he took of the adventure, gave character to his illustration of it. The '■ major," on a certain occasion, formed one of a happy party, and growing communicative under the in- fluence of genial society and old port, was imprudent enough to call on several persons near and around him for songs and sentiments — which calls being promptly honored, — the Major very unexpectedly found himself under the immense obligation of doing something for his friends himself; and as he could not sing, and hated salt water, he compromised, by relating the following per- sonal adventure. 272 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. We give it as nearly verbatim as possible, but must premise, that from an occasional twinkle that we noticed in the Major's eyes, we have never been perfectly satis- fied that he did not, to use the language of an Irish friend of ours, " make an intentional mistake." " There ought to be nothing about a dinner, gene- rally speaking," commenced the Major, " to make it an era in one's history in any way. " The power merely to gratify the appetite just suf- ficient to sustain life, is eating in poverty ; a life spent merely in gratifying the appetite, is brutal. We like a good dinner, and we sit down to one with that compla- cency of feeling that denotes a thankfulness, that may properly be called, a silent blessing ; yet we feel more pity for a man who recollects his bad dinners, than we do for one who distinctly remembers his good ones. In every- day life, things commemorative often start from the ta- ble. ' Do you remember,' says Gustibus, ' that so and so happened the day we ate the fresh salmon ? ' 'I re- member the event,' replies Dulce, ' from that exquisite bon-mot uttered on the occasion.' " I remember my first dinner in New Orleans as dis- tinctly as I remember my first love. I trust it was im- pressed upon my mind through the excitement of the intellect, as well as through the gratification of the senses. As I journeyed on to New Orleans for the first time, I naturally suggested to my travelling companion, my desire to be most pleasantly provided for while in the MAJOR GASDEN's STORY. 273 city, and contrary to his usual custom, he launched forth in eloquent declamation upon the table of his host, drew pictures of luxuries that threw my most sanguine antici- pations of good living into the shade, and caused me to look forward with an interest to the gratification of my palate that I had never before indulged in. " I landed on the ' levee ' of New Orleans in the mid- dle of the morning ; although it was early spring, a glo- rious sun, such as Pomona loves, was making every thing look gay ; the swollen Mississippi dashed a few waves over the artificial barrier that confined it to its channel, and as they crowded along in little rivulets, they spar- kled like molten silver and gold, indicative, as we thought, of the wealth which was borne upon its waters, and paid tribute to the city. " I need not say where I ate my first dinner in New Orleans. The dining hall was a long one and the diners numerous. I made my entrance after the soup dishes had done their office, and was, of course, a little late. ' It might have been the exercise, or excitement, or a hastily-eaten breakfast, that made me feel in the spirit of enjoying a good dinner, for I was unusually disposed that way; and looked down the long tables, crowded to excess, with great concern, for fear there would be no room for me, until that melancholy time, when gravies cool into water and globules of fat, and meats are just as warm as when alive ; the cruets half filled, and the cloth awry. I trembled at the prospect, 274 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTEFw. when, to my inexpressible relief, on my left, near the door, at the top of the two long dining tables, was a small round one, at which sat some six or eight gentle- men. A single chair was unoccupied, and without cere- mony, I appropriated it to myself. " I never saw a man come in late to dinner who did not endeavor to look around on the company present, with that sort of expression which signifies ' Who cares if I did come in late ? ' I looked that way, and happened to feel so too ; and as I cast my eyes on the gentlemen at my right and left, and before me, I paid no attention whatever to the cold stare I met with, as if intending to make me feel that I was intruding. " In this excellent humor with all the world and my- self, I asked the waiter with a loud voice for soup, hot if possible, and I found myself accommodated in the twink- ling of a ladle. I went to work lustily to lay the foun- dation of what my friend in the morning had promised, an extra sple7idid dinner. " Oysters and fish, as a first course, seem to be founded in nature, reason, and taste, — I accordingly made the reflection to the gentleman on my right — he very formally assented to the proposition, and ate spar- ingly. I pressed him with great solicitude to follow my example, — and do justice to the viands before him. He suggested that he was troubled with a dyspepsia. This little conversation was received by the whole table with what I remember now, and then for a moment, thought MAJOR GASDEn's STORY. 275 was an unnecessary quantity of laughter, particularly by a gentleman at the foot of the table, presuming I sat at the head. This person, however, had a sparkling eye and a rubicund nose, and I concluded that he was easily pleased, and thought nothing more of the matter; at the same time feeling great sympathy for my friend on my right, whom I set down as a very bashful man. " The venison, all trembling about in its dish, with its spirit lamps, and wine condiments, was very beautiful indeed, but to me not so much of a rarity as it would have been, had I not lived in a country where deer were plenty. Determined to call out the bashful man, I ob- served to him if I had had the arrangement of the dinner, I should have ordered roast beef, as I had un- derstood New Orleans was growing quite celebrated for that dish. The bashful man smiled, the rest of the table were delighted, and it was agreed that it was a most valuable suggestion. '^ Thus encouraged, I went on to inform all present, that, the sweetest venison I ever tasted was while ' travelling on the frontier ; ' that it was not cooked like the steaks in the chafing dish before us, but merely jerked off of the carcass, thrown on living coals of fire, and then while steaming hot, devoured with the simple addition of pepper and salt. Hereupon the gentleman with the rubicund nose, told the bashful man that this second suggestion of mine was invaluable, and another unnecessarily hearty laugh followed. 276 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. " Prairie hens of a most delicate flavor followed after the meats ; they were really delicious ; they came from Illinois, somebody said, and showed the enterprise of the landlord of the hotel — so I thought and uttered, and my feelings in this matter were entirely appreciated by the little group around me. " The becasse, as they were announced, excited my unbounded astonishment; there they were, in a large dish, packed side by side ' like newly-married couples,' round as globes, and looking as inviting as ice in August. " I took one in my plate, turned it over and over, and discovered to my horror that the bird had probably committed suicide by running its own bill through its body, and as I drew it out I ejaculated, " ' Woodcock, as I live ! ! '" " My bashful friend responded, ' Exactly so.' " I helped every body ; the birds flew about under my administration as if they were alive and mad, and there was a general display of the most cheering good humor at my beneficent liberality. " In the mean time, the two long tables of the hotel were deserted, the waiters at them were walking about munching bits of bread and other odd ends, piling up plates, and 'clearing off;' but our little party grew more and more merry and happy, wine, delicious and old, flowed freely ; course after course followed, and then came a thousand varieties of the confectioner's skill. MAJOR GASDEN's STORY. 277 " Toasts and sentiments, really new, were engendered by the old wine, songs sentimental and patriotic ; bosom friends were we all, mingling together as sweetly and harmoniously as the waters of the vale of Avoca. " For my own part, I was particularly happy in my feelings and remarks, whatever / said was received with a roar, in fact I never met with the same number of gentlemen so easily pleased and so congenial. ''The sun gradually sunk in the west, and the sug- gestion of candles by an attendant proved a signal for departure — one more glass around and a sentiment from myself was to finish. Requesting all to fill to the brim, I raised my glass on high, and thus addressed my friends : " ' Gentlemen — I have heard much of the fine tables spread in New Orleans, particularly of this hotel, and of the enterprise of its host. I have heard nothing equal to their respective or joint merits {great applause, the ruhicund-nosed man breaking his glass in enthusiasm). The whole of this afi"air is only surpassed in my expe- rience, or most inflated dreams, by you, gentlemen (cast- ing a sort of patronising look around me), by you, gen- tlemen, — in your social, literary, and scientific attain- ments ' — [tremendous cheering). " I concluded, in a halo of glory, with ' A health to our host." " This speech or sentiment — was drank to the bottom, two gentlemen fell under the table, and four suspender 278 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. buttons rattled against the windows opposite me. Shak- ing hands with all who could go through the ceremony, I left the table, whereon had been eaten the best dinner of my life — where I had met the cleverest party ever assembled to my knowledge ; such was my first dinner in New Orleans. " It was nearly one o'clock at night, when I met my friend with whom I had parted in the morning. I found him in his room suffering from a severe attack of the colic ; I was still under the pleasurable excitement of my din- ner, its effects were still radiating about my brain like heat from a cooling stove. I was very communicative about the events of the day, and among other things ex- ceedingly grateful to my sick friend for introducing me to such a splendid hotel and to such good dinners. " 'Good dinners,' he groaned, 'do I look as if I had eaten a good dinner ? nearly dead from swallowing cab- bage and pork.' " The very mention of such gross aliment made me sick, and I asked him where he dined, with undisguised alarm. " ' In the hotel, to be sure,' was his reply. " I told him that he was dreaming, and to convince him, gave him a hurried description of my own dinner at the same time and place. The severe pains of the colic could not altogether destroy the mysterious mean- ing of my friend's eyes as he looked up, and informed me that the table I sat down at was di, private table, and MAJOR GASDEN's STORY. 279 the dinner that had given me so much satisfaction was a " game dinner," got up at great expense, and under the immediate superintendence of celebrated bon vivants. " The conceit of my ability to amuse a party of strangers at the social board, vanished into thin air; the cause of the wit of my jokes was revealed, — fortunate, indeed, as I was, in eating a good dinner, I was still more fortunate in meeting with a party of gentlemen, who were too delicate to hint at any explanations that would, in their presence, inform me of my amusing mis- take. THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. [This western sketch was elicited fi-om a celebrated but idle pen, by per- sonal friendship for the " Bee Hunter." Its great merit and originality cannot fail to be widely appreciated.] The citj of Louisville, in. the fall of 1822, was visited by an epidemic, which decimated its population, and converted the dwellings of its inhabitants, erewhile the abodes of pleasantness and hospitality, into houses of mourning. The records of the devastations of the fell intruder, are to be found inscribed upon the headstones that whiten the ancient graveyard of the town, wherein are deposited the bodies of those, who, whilst sojourning upon earth, dispensed the good things of this world with graceful liberality, and made a home for the wayfarer amidst a people upon whom he had no other claim than that of a stranger. The Angel of Death hovered over the devoted city in remorseless ecstasy, pointing the shafts of his exhaustless quiver in every direction, and THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 281 striking down in preference, the shining objects of public consideration and regard. I was among those who felt the winnowing of his wings as he flitted past my couch in quest of nobler trophies. All those who were not obliged to remain within the doomed precincts of the city, fled to places afar off; while such as mere necessity required to abide the pes- tilence, resorted to the most ingenious devices to escape its visitation. Those who *were overlooked by the De- stroyer in his wrath, were near being starved, as few country people dared bring marketing into the town, and those who did so, only ventured within interdicted limits at certain hours of the day, and right hastily did they retreat to their more salubrious abodes. Amid the general desolation, the incidents of woe were strangely mingled with those that cheated Death, momentarily, of his horrors. It were a scene that might have provoked the atten- tion of Atropos herself, and made her pause awhile iu her terrible vocation, to smile upon the ludicrous means that terror invented to thwart the purposes of Destiny. The emaciated figures of the convalescent citizen, strangely contrasted with the stalwart frame of the hardy yeoman, whilst the cadaverous aspect of the former added to the grotesqueness of the besmeared faces of the latter. The farmer, moved either by compassion or love of gam to visit the town, as he penetrated the city as far as the market-liouse, would use amulets and bags of 282 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. sulphur, and, besmeared his nose and lips with tar, to protect him in inhaling the tainted atmosphere ; and whilst he exposed his poultry for sale, kept continually burning about his stall aromatic herbs, such as penny- royal, sage and tansy, to appease or appal the dread in- tent of Azrael. It was with a bounding heart, that late in September I learned that I was well enough to be removed beyond the sound of the church bell, whose daily tolling an- nounced to me, as I lay prostrate, the death of some schoolmate, whose merry laugh would never more be heard upon the bowling-green ; or the demise of some ancient crone or new comer, whose gossip or whose en- terprise was the pastime of the youth, or the theme of speculation amongst the fathers of the city. The luxu- riant forests had just assumed the russet garb of autumn, as I once more found myself without the city, and right speedily did the bracing country air and association with people whose hearth-stone had not been visited by pesti- lence, exert their influence in restoring me both to cheer- fulness and strength. My destination was Shelby county, in the neighbor- hood of the village of that name, where I remained un- til November. It was during the latter part of Octo- ber that the events transpired that will form the subject of this brief history, and the character of the incident will probably excuse the digression with which it is be- gun ; for, as will be presently seen, the epidemic had a THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 283 principal agency in producing the catastrophe, which, had it not happened, would have spared me the task of chronicling an achievement in turf matters, more re- markable than the connection between pestilence and the sequel of these pages. On the third Saturday (if I remember aright) of October, 1822, the Hon. J L called for me on his way to the Jockey Club Races, on the four-mile d&,j. He had taken up the impression that a race would be a source of amusement and advantage to me ; and in the fulfilment of a humane purpose, had brought along with him an Indian pony, that went by the euphoneous name of " Boots," given as much for shortness, as by reason of the color of the animal, which was an equivocation between a sandy brown and a dingy black — ^just that of a pair of boots, which had not received the polishing aid of the black for an indefinite period.* Astride of this epitome of a horse, I made my first ap- pearance upon a race-course. I was then only ten years of age, and the impressions made upon my mind at that time are more vivid than those of a later day, and of more important character. There were then no spacious stands erected for the accommodation of visitors. Upon a mound within the circle of the track were collected, what was then con- sidered, a vast number of carriages, containing the aris- tocratic beauty of the country — though perhaps some of the fair patrons of the turf might at this time, or their 284 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. daughters for them, turn up their seraphic noses at the rude contrivances that rejoiced at so recent a period in the appellation. About the field were horsemen innu- merable, and upon the adjacent hills were thronged the less fortunate spectators, who could muster neither wheeled vehicle, nor four-footed beast for the occasion. The scene was one of animation, and to my young im- agination, — of unsurpassable brilliancy. We had not been long upon the ground before we as- certained that something was amiss. Every body wore an uneasy and fidgetty aspect, the cause of which was soon discovered. By the rules of the Jockey Club, it re- quired three entries to make a race. There was no walking over the course, in those days. Every purse taken, had to be won gallantly of at least two competi- tors. Only two horses had been entered, and the sport seemed about to be broken up for want of a third. There were other nags of " lineage pure " in attendance, but their owners were afraid to start them against the celebrated Blannerhassett^ and the no less celebrated Epaminondas. In this strait the concourse of assembled people grew ill-natured, and even the ladies pouted in sore disappointment. The owners and trainers of the re- nowned coursers, which were held apart for want of a go-between, vaunted the performances of their respective nags and looked daggers at the judges, whose conscien- tious scruples would not permit the purse to be taken, THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 285 but in conformity to the constitution and laws of the club. The famous racer, J H— , hopped about the track with accelerated motion, in calling the public at- tention to the prominent points of Blanner-Jiassett^ who was to be abated of his laurels by a rule, which he stig- matized with many epithets,' having reference to eternal darkness ; whilst Dr. B was no less industrious in extolling the merits of Epmninondas^ who happened to be precisely in the same situation with his competitor. What was to be done ? The ladies were making preparation to leave, and the gentleman had begun to arrange for " scrubbing," when the Judge called out from the stand in a loud voice (trumpets were not then in vogue), " saddle your horses ! " What a thrill passed through the crowd ! and with what emotions did I hear these sounds. The public, generally, was greatly overjoyed at the prospect of the race, but, nevertheless, there were many who were anxious to know upon what authority the judges had ordered the horses to be saddled; and these were, generally, the very persons who were most boister- ous in abusing them for their obstinacy, when it was ap- prehended that there would be no sport. Upon inquiry, it was found out that the Hon. J. L , in conjunction with three other gentlemen, viz., Hon. J. T , M. H , and R. B , Esqrs., had actually entered a third horse, and thereby made the 286 THE IIIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. race, in all respects, conformable to the rules of the club. The strict construictionists were not satisfied, how- ever, with the announcement of the third entry ; they demanded to see the animal — and I well remember the air of ruffled dignity with which the owner of " Boots " bade me get up behind him, to have the " great un known " led up to the stand for inspection, and sad- dled, or rather unsaddled, for the race. The •' Boots " party had made the entry with no in- tention of running him. It was on their part a gra- tuitous subscription of the sum required, to prevent the spectators from going home in chagrin and disappoint- ment. But when pushed to this extremity^ they not only produced the nominee, but actually resolved upon making a brush for the money — as much in derision of the scruples of the malcontents, as in obedience to a cer- tain spirit of the old Adam in them, which revolted against the uncharitable suggestions of collusion bruited about the course, when it was said, that the third entry would not exhibit himself for the contest. Upon the threshold of his ingress into the theatre of fame, poor " Boots " met with an obstacle that well nigh nipped his prospects in the bud. The rules of the ■ club required the pedigree of every horse entered to be stated. Alas, '' Boots " had neither scutcheon nor an- cestry. His age was of little consequence. His pres- ent owner had come in possession of him ten years be- THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 287 fore that time, and consequently he was set down as " aged," a term of scope and verge enough to satisfy the most fastidious. But his pedigree ! There was the rub. " Boots " was an orphan upon the paternal side from birth, and the mother's too, so far as any one could say to the contrary. He was what is called filius nul- lus^ or nobody's child, and consequently had a right to claim any one for parent he thought fit. His owner plead to be allowed to enter him as " a charity scholar," but this could not be granted. At length a compro- mise was made, and " Boots " appeared upon the field under the following imposing blazon and protection. "The Hon. J. L enters bl. h. ' Boots,' aged; by ' Tar,' out of a ' Cicff'' mare, of unknown extraction." These preliminaries settled, the thorough-breds were saddled, and the saddle was taken ofi" of " Boots " for the contest. A negro lad who had ridden him as far as the house where I resided, and who was allowed by his master to go to the races, as he had to wait till they were over to take him home, was mounted upon him. Great was the laughter of the crowd when the horses were about starting. The pawing impatience of the over-trained racers, attracted little attention. The gaze of the multitude was upon the black pony. '-'■Blan- nerhassetf'' neighed, and '■^ Epaminondas '' snorted, — ' but all to no purpose. No one cared to look at them. ^^ Boots " was like a Merry Andrew in a deep tragedy — 288 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. he had completely upset the gravity of the audience, whose powers of composing themselves to the thoughtful mood becoming the occasion, seemed gone for ever, to the great chagrin of J. H , and Dr. B , who cavorted about in their anger, as much as their horses. First Heat. — There was great difficulty in starting the horses. Several false "get ofls " were made. The star actors in the drama pirouetted most provokingly, whilst the rider of '■'•Boots'''' made him toe the line, where he waited with meekness and humility for the word " go," and even after that was given, manifested little anxiety to change his position. The thorough-breds went at it, pell-melL The un- due share of attention given to " Boots " by the crowd, had first nettled their owners and afterwards their jock- eys. Away they went like twin bullets, leaving ^'- Boots " so far behind, that before the first mile was done he was lost sight of. When they entered the quarter stretch of the close of the second mile, " Boots " was for the first time passing the judges' stand. On they went with resistless fury. In the beginning of the third mile " Boots,'''' was seen about a hundred yards in advance. This some- what startled the spectators, who in the closeness of the running between " Blannerhassett " and " Epaminon- das " had for a moment forgotten all about him. There he was though, in front, and pegging away with hearty good will — ahead it is true in point of position, but ac- THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 289 tually a mile behind. In a moment they were upon him. " Boots " strove for about six feet to keep his posi- tion in advance, but they swept by him, and after they had gone out of sight the good old horse had all his run- ning to himself, and cut out the work to his own liking. The fourth mile of the race was run under whip and spur ; first " Blan " and then " Fam " (as the specta- tors abreviated their learned names) was ahead ; the feeling of the multitude was intense. In entering the quarter stretch the last mile " Boots " was once more discernible, and nothing daunted by the clatter of hoofs, or dispirited by the gibes of such as happened to catch a glimpse of him, was maintaining his accustomed gait steadily, and just rounded the turn, as the "two bloods" swept by the stand — a dead lock. According to the rules of the club, a dead heat was regarded as though none had been run. The Boots party contended that their horse was not distanced, and to this view of the case, the judges unanimously inclined. Upon examination, the rules were positive upon the sub- ject, and had " Boots " bolted, or had he not run a foot much less two miles of the four, he would be entitled to start a second time. Indeed, no objection was made by any one, none could be made, and accordingly it was de- termined to put him again in the field — the fact of the matter being, that his owner perceiving that the old lo 290 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. horse looked better for his exertion, was inclined to see the day out, just for the fun of the thing. If the extra exercise of the race improved ^' Boots,'^ it had quite a contrary effect upon the others. They were sadly blown, and manifested growing symptoms of distress. In those days, the business of training a horse for a four-mile race was beyond the skill of Western jockeys, or at least of many of them, and the art of riding in a manner to keep a horse together, and husband him for after heats, was known to but few. In the present case, the horses were both over-trained, and over-worked in the race. As soon as the heat was done, innumerable boys and grown-up men were rubbing them down, scraping the foam off of them with great industry and perseverance. Covers of brightest colors were put over them, and such pains as few invalids get, were bestowed upon them ; whilst his rider hitched ^' Boots ^^ to a post, and quietly sauntered off to a booth, to comfort himself with ginger- bread and a glass of cider. When the time allowed for rest had elapsed, the three horses were again brought to the post— but this time the thorough-breds had become quite subdued, either through fatigue, or from an admiration of the sober de- portment of the strange competitor who stood beside them. 'At the word "go," they all three "got off" cleverly together for the Second Heat. — " Boots " took a position close up, THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 291 which, by the help of such coaxing as was inherent in a stout eane used by Jesse (the black boy who rode him), he maintained with wonderful precision. The cracks went oif at a slow gallop ; both riders being ordered to go gently along. In this way they ran the first mile. The second mile was done in the same manner, and now for the first time was heard the exhortation, " go it, Boots,'" as the little black kept closely up. The pace did not improve the third mile, both Dr. B and J. H knowing that neither horse had more than a short brush in him. Upon the fourth mile the speed did not quicken, until Jesse, taking heart from his close- ness to the leading horses, actually challenged the hind- ermost one for the front. Such a shout as went up upon this rally, was never before heard upon that field. " Go it, Boots,'^ burst from every mouth, and even the ladies moved their 'kerchiefs and murmured soft ap- plause. But chivalrous as the efi"ort was, it came near costing " Boots " the laurels that were wreathing for his brow. The push was made too soon. The jockeys be- came cognizant of the proximity of the unheralded scrub, and went off at the top of the speed of their re- spective horses. " Boots " was fast falling into the rear ; but as good luck would have it, they could not quite distance him, but in attempting to do so, they completely used up the " cracks.^'' Epamiyiondas won this heat by a neck. The stable boys again got around the descendants of Godolphm, 292 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. who indeed required their attention more than ever — for though they had not run more than half a mile of the heat, that was enough to worst them terribly in their jaded condition. And " Boots,'^ too, fared better than before. He was getting to be a feature in the race, and a circumstance attending the betting made him now an object of the greatest interest. After the dead heat, the betting began. The result of that heat proved the horses to be so nearly of equal speed and spirit, that great confidence was placed in the representations of their owners, and parties betted as they were partial to the one or the other of them It so happened that no one seemed to take " Boots'^ into the account in making bets, and by that very means he had as much money depending upon him as either of . the other horses. Every one who proposed a wager, betted that either Dr. B 's " Pam " or J. H 's " Blan" would win the purse. Now the takers of such offers were ot course " field- ers;" for they in fact betted, that the horse named would not take their money, and consequently, if " Boots " won it, they were as much gainers as though the nag they relied upon had won it. Hence every bet taken was, in technical term, upon " the field," though the party that took it, might have forgotten at the time that there was such a horse as " Boots ^ It will be seen that a tissue of accidents first brought THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 293 the little black upon the field, enabled him to start for the second heat, procured for him a vast number of un- conscious backers, and made him, at the present stage of the race, quite a topic of speculation. As a matter of course, his comfort came to be pro- vided for ; and one assiduous groom ventured to scrape him down with a thin lath. Whereupon " Boots,''^ who had never been known to perspire since the last war, when he was taken in Canada by the person of whom his present owner purchased him ; looked around, and not being able to recognize the fellow, or divine what on earth he was up to, kicked out his left hind leg in evi- dent disgust. This w^as tbe only token of concern in the proceed- ings going on, that the pony had given during the day, but that, slight as it was. gave great hope to the " fielders," for the other horses, albeit so spry in the beginning, had got beyond the kicking point ; and sub- mitted to the manipulation of their trainers with com- mendable, but ominous docility. When the interval of rest between the heats had ex- pired, " Boots " alone, seemed qualified for a repetition of the preceding exercises. He first made his appear- ance at the post, in consequence of his not requiring time for saddling. He stood for some moments quietly, as usual, with his nose on a parallel with the judges' stand ; but as the trainers brought up Epaminondas and Blannerhassett he turned his head sidewise, looked 294 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. wistfully for a moment upon them, and exhaled a long, deep sigh — whether of pity at the dejected aspect and distressed condition of the whilom gallant steeds, or on account of some faint notion of the business he was en- gaged in, then for the first time penetrating the integu- ments of his simple understanding, has not been satis- factorily explained. Had he been aware that money was staked upon him, — that he was in fact accessory to gambling, — it is a question if he would not have sulked outright ; for " Boots ^'' although bred in a savage country, had kept moral society for many years ; and must have imbibed serious, and temperance ideas. But the word "go" was given, and they were all three ofi" for the Third Heat. — For the first time the little black was ahead, both in point of fact and position. He went off just as at the commencement of the race, with per- haps a trifle more alacrity from practice, Jesse, who had been lectured upon the impropriety of his hrusli in the second heat, so soon as the last half of the fourth mile, imagined that he had done wrong in taking the lead, and set about holding the pony up until the others passed by ; but " Boots^'' to the sore mortifi- cation of his rider, would not be held up. He had got a taste of the boy's bludgeon, and not liking its savor, pushed on, despite the most obstinate endeavors to re- strain his impetuosity. The thorough-breds this time, not only could endure THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 295 the black's proximity, but absolutely trailed him the whole of the first mile. On entering the second, either through mortified pride, or more positive malice, both the jockeys were ordered to go ahead of the scrub. Spurs were put in requisition, and the flagged and worn horses got by the pony before they came into the back stretch. After shaking off their ignoble competitor, they relapsed into the stinted stride they set out with. But Jesse now had become enamored of the front, and on he urged the pony, who, nothing loth, crawled up to them, and came round the quarter stretch neck and neck with the foremost. In the straight work, first one and then the othei glided by him. But these fits and starts in running could not avail against a steady pace. " Boots " would come up with them, and at every subsequent attempt it was becoming palpably more difficult to part company with him. On entering the third mile, Epaiimiondas was evi- dently lame, and when he tried to widen the distance between him and ^^ Boots'''' on the back stretch, gave up: the little black went by him for good, and a shout of applause arose, that had wellnigh made old Entellus's sceptre tremble in his grasp. The contest was now narrowed down to " Boots " and Blannerhassettj — and neither of them had won a heat. The four gentlemen who entered the pony, imme- 296 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. diately galloped in every direction over the field, en- couraging Jesse to get the descendant of Cuff along ; straight ahead, the little black held the even tenor of his way, whilst " Blan " would first leave him a rod, and then drop back to him, in flickering fits of " game and gravel." At the beginning of the fourth mile, " Boots " was well up ; on going round the turn he passed " Blan " a neck. (Immense cheering.) In the straight running " Blan " again sloped by the pony, but remained satis- fied with getting ahead the least bit imaginable. This position was maintained to the turn, when " Boots " came alongside, and before entering the quarter stretch, drew out a full length in advance, amid deafening shouts of " go it. Boots," " go it, darkey," " pop him, sooty," " give him Jesse ; " and such like exclamations of dis- paraging signification, but used in the most laudatory sense of approbation. Jesse, unfortunately, in his eagerness to win the heat ; used his cudgel carelessly, and accidentally gave the black a clip on the head, which so " disgentled " him that he turned almost entirely around before he could be checked. In this way, he lost his advantage just as he reached the distance stand, and it was well for him that he had got that far, as " Boots " showed the most implacable resentment to such treatment, and tried to run in every direction but the right one. Indeed he had not before exhibited such spirit ; he THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 297 actually reared up, and wasted euough energy in expos- tulating against any such phrenological experiments be- ing made upon him, to have won the heat, had it been properly directed. He could not be induced to resume operations until " Blan " had passed the judges' stand, and was pronounced winner of the heat. At the termination of this heat, the nature of the betting was fully developed. The " Blan " party upon claiming their stakes — EjKcminondas being distanced — discovered that " Boots " stood between them and the spoils. They had raised a feeble shout upon the issue of the heat, futile enough ; for they assumed to consider a triumph over " Boots " as a sorry affair, but when they understood that the pony was entitled to start a fourth time, even that faint ejaculation, melted down to a du- bious mutter. The rules of the club required a horse to win one of the three first heats to enable him to keep upon the track. Strange to say there was greater doubt concern- ing this last mile than there was respecting " Boots " being distanced the first heat. The judges had great trouble in deciding the difficulty. Three heats had been run, and " Boots " had won neither ; but then the first was declared null and void, crgo^ only two had been, in law, accomplished. The Epaminondas party here stepped in, as much for the principle, as the interest of the thing, and de- clared that " Boots " had a right to run a fourth heat. 13* 298 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. Dr. B , who, now that his horse was distanced, would give his left hand to see J. H 's nag done the same by, declared openly for the pony; and the judges "being sufficiently advised," decided that way. This was the most reasonable, as well as the most popular judgment ; for one half of those who betted on " Blan," being, in sporting terms, " fielders," and who, consequently, could not lose, were vociferous for the continuance of the sport. This question settled, betters were puzzled how to lay out their money. Blannerhassett had yet friends who would not hedge. They could not realize the pos- sibility of his being beat by a scrub like " Boots,'''' and J. H taking courage from the pony's strange freak at the end of the last heat, vaunted his nag's prowess anew, as well to assure his friends, as to brag off the " Boots' " people. Strange rumors were circulated respecting the con- dition of each horse. The trainer of " Blan " kept the people, as far as possible, from inspecting the state of his charge, whilst every man, woman and child in the field, that chose to do so, was allowed to look on "i^oo^s," and get upon his back too, as to that matter. The old pony looked none the worse for wear, and how to account for his fantastic behavior, was perplex- ing enough. Some said he sulked, others that he had given way internally, — one or two insinuated foul deal- ings. None, however, divined the real cause, except Jesse, who kept it to himself, not even venturing to in- THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 290 form his master that the faithful creature he bestrode had only paused in his career to remonstrate against an unintentional, yet serious and glaring personal injury. What with the fear of a repetition of the pony's ca- prices, and the well-founded belief that Blannerhassett was used up, the public were in an equipoise in regard to the result. Betting was going on pretty freely, when the horses were summoned to the Last Heat.— The pony showed little change since he last " toed the mark," unless perhaps a dogged air, arising as much from a sense of wrong, as an internal speculation as to whether the affair was ever coming to an end. Blannerhassett looked worse than his namesake did when charged with high treason. The high-bred steed was in no mood to take on airs. He came up panting and faint, and in his distress took no notice whatever of ' 30018,'' who, as soon as the boy mounted him, mani- fested a strange anxiety to push on. In his eagerness to get his head out of the way of Jesse's stick, he actu- ally made a fake start, and had to be called back. When the word was given, " Boots " got greatly the start. It was enough that Jesse held his cudgel so as to remind him that it was in readiness ; away he scamp- ered, regardless alike of the shouts of the multitude, and the abuse of the Blannerhassett s, whose horse was quite stiff at the go off, and lost ground considerably for the first half mile. On getting a little warm, he went better, but the pony was in no humor to wait for him. 300 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. At the close of the first mile, " Boots " was two hun- dred yards ahead, and pegging away as if the devil was behind him, and a phantom corn heap in front. Blannerhassett'' s jockey now used whip and spur to overtake the flying imp — but it was in vain. His horse responded to the steel and lash for a few strides, and then gave out ; fatigued, — lamed, — and broken down. Meanwhile " Boots,'''' not having the reputation of Blannerhassett before his eyes, but the dread of the cudgel behind him, was rattling it off at a merry pace. Upon entering the third mile of the heat Jesse came in view of his antagonist, pretty near the spot where he was overtaken himself, in the beginning of the day. The boy could not for a time comprehend how " Blan " got before him, and was evidently becoming bewildered with the phenomenon, when the Hon. J. L told him to push on, and beat the blooded stock, as far as he had been beaten. The darkey understanding now that he had gained a mile, showed his ivory to the spectators and his cudgel to " J5oo^5," and swept by the done-up nag, like a ball fired out of a cannon charged with slow matches. I will make no attempt to describe the shouts of the people at the issue, until I can dip my pen in electricity to write in thunder drops, — or in the prism, to depict the eye of beauty as it flashed applause, to the unher- alded champion. This feat achieved, — there was no competitor for THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 301 " Boots " but the sun. Jesse made it his ambition to finish the race by the light of his rays, and he was as proud as a sceptred monarch, when looking over the heads of the throng that gathered around the victorious " Boots " upon the conclusion of the heat, he saw the glorious orb yet above the horizon, and looking gladly upon him as though he would bless him before he went to bed. " Boots " was near sharing the fate of the Grecian, who was smothered to death in the theatre, by wreaths and shawls showered down upon him in glorification. He could scarcely breathe, for the multitudes that pressed upon him in one way or another, to do him honor. And Jesse, too, got a large share of plaudits and dimes con- formably ; and even I came in for gleanings of regard, as I rode home upon the pony after the jubilation. There were no cattle-painters there, nor lithograph- ers, nor daguerreotypists ; else " J5ooz!s " and his rider would have been transmitted to posterity in their linea- ments of that day. It has fallen upon feeble hands to preserve some faint remembrance of them in this ac- count, which is as inferior to the merits of the theme, as the snuffed candle is to the brilliant orb of day. THE WAY THAT AMERICANS GO DOWN HILL. "But who has not been both wearied and amused with the slow caution of the German drivers ? At every little descent on the road, that it would almost require a spirit-level to discern that it is a descent, he dismounts, and puts on his drag. On a road of the gentlest undulations, where a heavy English coach would go at the rate often English miles an hour, without drag or pause, up hill or down, he is continually alighting and putting on one or both drags, alighting and ascending with a patience and perseverance that amazes you. Nay, in many states, this caution is evinced also by the government, and is forced on the driver, particularly in Bavaria, Wurtemberg, and Austria, by a post by the way-side, standing at the top of every slope on the road, having painted on a board, a black and conspicuous drag, and announcing a fine, of commonly six florins (ten shillings) on any loaded carriage which shall descend without the drag on. In every thing they are continually guarding against those accidents which result from hurry, or slightness of construction." — HoicitVs Moral and Domestic Lifein Germany. The stage in wliich we travelled across " the Alleganies," was one of the then called " Transit line." It was, as the driver termed it, "a rushing affair," and managed, by a refined cruelty to dumb beasts, to keep a little ahead of the " Opposition," which seemed ever to come clatter- ing in our rear, like some ill-timed spirit, never destined exactly to reach, but always to be near us. THE WAY THAT AMERICANS GO DOWN HILL. 303 The drivers of our different " changes," all seemed to be made upon the go-ahead principle, and looked upon nothing as really disgraceful, but being behind the stage that so perseveringly pursued us. Unfortunately too, for our safety, we went in an " extra," and managed, by a freak of fortune, to arrive at the different stations, where drivers and horses were changed, just as the former had got comfortably to bed ; and it was not the least interesting portion of my thoughts, that every one of these Jehus made the most solemn protestations, that he would " upset us over some precipice not less than three hundred and sixty-five feet high, and knock us into such a perfect nonenity, that it would save the coroner the trouble of calling a jury to sit upon our remains." It is nine years since, and if the winter of that year is not set down as " remarkably cold " in the almanacs, it shows a want of care in those useful annuals. We say it is nine years since we crossed the AUe- ganies. At the particular time to which we allude, the " oldest inhabitant " of the country (and we met him on the road side) informed us that he had no recol- lection of such a severe season. That we could live through such a night would have been deemed impos- sible, could its perils have been anticipated, before they were experienced. The fire in every house we passed smoked like a fur- nace, and around its genial warmth were crowded groups 304 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. of men, women, and children, who looked as if they might have been born in the workshop of Yulcan, The road over which we travelled was macadamized, and then frozen ; it was as hard as nature will permit, and the tramping of the horses' feet upon it sounded in the frosty air as if they were rushing across a continuous bridge. The inside of the stage-coach is a wonder ; it is a perfect denial to Newton's theory, that two things, or twenty, cannot occupy the same place at the same time. The one we travelled in was perfectly full of seats, straw, buffalo robes, hat-boxes, rifles, flute cases, and small par- cels — and yet nine men — the very nine muses at times (all the cider along the road was frozen, and we drank the heart of it), stowed themselves away within its bowels; but how, we leave to the masters of exhausted air-pumps and hydraulic presses to imagine. We all, of course, froze, more or less, but it was in streaks ; the curtains of the stage were fastened down and made tight, and then, like pigs, we quarrelled our- selves into the snuggest possible position and place ; it being considered fortunate to be in the centre, as we then parted with least heat, to satisfy the craving appe- tite of Jack Frost, who penetrated every little hole and nook, and delighted himself in painting fantastic figures upon the diff"erent objects exposed to his influence, out of our misery and breath. By one of those extraordinary phenomena exhibited THE WAY THAT AMERICANS GO DOWN HILL. 305 in the climate of our favored country, we unexpectedly found ourselves travelling over a road that was covered with a frozen sleet, for cold as the season was, there was no snow ; the horses' shoes consequently had no corks on them worth noticing, and the iron-bound wheels, on this change in the surface of the earth, seemed to have so little hold upon the road that we almost expected they would make an efibrt to leave it, and break our necks as a reward for their aspirations. On we went, however, and as night came on, the darkness enveloped us in a kind of cloud, — the ice-glazed surface of the ground re- flecting upwards a dull, mysterious light. Our whereabouts never troubled us ; all places be- tween the one we were anxious to reach, and where we were, made no impression upon us ; and perhaps we would never have known a single particular place, but for the incident about to be detailed. I think that all my companions, as well as myself, were asleep, when I was awaked by that peculiar sawing motion which a stage body makes upon its springs when suddenly stopped. " What's the matter now ? " was the general excla- mation of the " insides " to the driver; who was dis- covered through the glass window on the ground, beat- ing his arms around his body with a vehemence that almost raised him into the air. " Matter ! " he exclaimed, sticking his nose above a woollen blanket that was tied around his face, which 306 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTEE. from the cold and his breath was frosted like a wedding- cake, " matter enough ; here we are on the top of Ball Mountain, the drag-chain broken, and I am so confound- edly cold, that I could not tie a knot in a rope if I had eighteen thousand hands." It was a rueful situation truly. I jumped out of the stage, and contemplated the prospect near and at a dis- tance, with mixed feelings. So absorbed did I soon be- come, that I lost sight of the unpleasant situation in which we were placed, and regarded only the appear- ance of things about me, disconnected with my personal happiness. There stood the stage, upon the very apex of the mountain, the hot steaming breath of my half-smothered travellers pouring out of its open door in puffs like the respirations of a mammoth. The driver, poor fellow, was limping about, more than half frozen, — growling, swearing, and threatening. The poor horses looked about twenty years older than when they started, their heads being whitened with the frost. They stamped with impatience on the hard-ribbed ice, the polished iron of their shoes looking as if it would penetrate their flesh with biting cold. But such a landscape of beauty — all shrouded in death, we never saw or conceived of, and one like it is seldom presented to the eye. Down the mountain could be traced the broad road in serpentine windings, lessening in the distance until it appeared no wider than a foot- THE WAY THAT AMERICANS GO DOWN HILL. 307 path, obscured by the ravines and forest- trees through which it ran ; on each side were deep, yawning chasms, at the bottom of which the hardy pines sprung upward a hundred and fifty feet, and yet they looked from where I stood like creeping plants. The very mountain-tops spread out before me like pyramids. The moon, coming up from behind the distant horizon, shone upon this vast prospect, bathing one elevation of light and another in darkness, or reflecting her silvery rays across the frozen ground in sparkling gems, as if some eastern princess scattered diamonds upon a marble floor ; then starting in bold relief the shaggy rock -born hemlock and poison laurel, it penetrated the deep solitudes, and made " dark- ness visible," where all before had been most deep ob- scurity. There too might be seen the heat, driven from the earth in light fogs by the intense cold, floating upwards in fantastic forms, and spreading out in thin ether as it sought more elevated regions. As far in the distance in every direction as the eye could reach, were the valleys of Penn, all silent in the embrace of winter and night, calling up most vividly the emotions of the beautiful and the sublime. " How are we to get down this outrageous hill, driver?" bawled out a speculator in the western lands, who had amused us, through the day, with nice calcu- lations of how much he could have saved the govern- ment and himself, had he had the contract of making the " National Road" over which we were travelling. 308 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. The reply of the driver was exceedingly apt and characteristic. " There is no difficulty," said he, " in getting down the hill, but you well know there are a variety of ways of doing the same thing; the drag-chain would be of little use, as the wheel-tire would make a runner of it. I think you had better all take your places inside, say your prayers, and let me put off — and if yonder grinning moon has a wish to see a race between a stage and four horses down ' Ball Mountain,' she'll be gratified, and see sights that would make a locomotive blush." The prospect was rather a doleful one ; we had about ninety chances in a hundred that we would make a " smash of it," and we had the same number of chances of being frozen to death if we did not take the risk of being " smashed," for the first tavern we could get to was at the foot of the mountain. The driver was a smart fellow, and had some hostage in the world worth living for, because he was but three days wedded — had he been married six months we would not have trusted him. The vote was taken ; and it was decided to " go ahead." If I were to describe an unpleasant situation, I should say that it was to be in a stage, the door closed on you, with great probabilities that it will be opened by your head thrusting itself through the oak panels, with the axle of the wheel at the same time falling across THE WAY THAT AMERICANS GO DOWN HILL. 309 your breast. It seemed to me that I would be, with my companions, if I entered that stage, buried alive ; so preferring to see the coming catastrophe, I mounted the driver's seat with a degree of resolution that would have enabled me to walk under a falling house without winking. At the crack of the whip, the horses, impatient of the delay, started with a bound, and ran on a short distance, the boot of the stage jDointing to the earth ; a sudden reverse of this position, and an inclination of our bodies forward, told too plainly that we were on the descent. Now commenced a race between gravitation and horse flesh, and odds would have been safely bet on the former. At one time we swayed to and fro as if in hammocks ; then we would travel a hundred yards sideways, boun- cing, crashing about like mad. A quarter way down the mountain — and the horses with reeking-hot sides and distended nostrils laid them- selves down to their work, while the lashing whip cracked and goaded them in the rear, to hasten their speed. The driver, with a coolness that never forsook him, guided his vehicle, as much as possible, in zig-zag lines across the road. Obstacles, no larger than pebbles, would project the stage into the air as if it had been an Indian-rubber ball, and once as we fell into a rut, we escaped upsetting by a gentle tap from the stump of a cedar tree upon the hub of the wheel, that righted us with the swiftness of lightning. 310 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. On we went — the blood starting in my chilled frame diffusing over me a glowing heat, until I wiped huge drops of perspiration from my brow, and breathed in the cold air as if I were smothering. The dull, stunning sound that now marked our progress, was scarcely re- lieved by the clattering hoofs of the horses, and the mo- tion became perfectly steady, except when a piece of ice would explode from under the wheels as if burst with powder. Almost with the speed of thought we rushed on, and the critical moment of our safety came. The stum- bling of a horse — the breaking of a strap — a too strongly- drawn breath, almost, would have, with the speed we were then making, projected us over the mountain-side as if shot from a cannon, and hurled us on the frozen ground and hard rocks beneath. The driver, with distended eyes, and with an ex- pression of intellectual excitement, played his part well, and fortune favored us. As we made the last turn in the road, the stage for an instant vibrated between safety and destruction, — running for several yards upon one side, it displayed two wheels in the air, whirling with a swiftness that rendered them almost invisible. With a severe contusion it righted — the driver shouted — and we were rushing up an ascent. For a moment the stage and horses went on, and it was but for a moment, for the heavy body lately THE WAY THAT AMERICANS GO DOWN HILL. 311 full of life, settled back upon the traces a dead weight, dragging the poor animals in one confused heap down- wards, until, shaking violently on its springs, it stood still. " A pretty severe tug," said one of the insiders to the driver, as he stretched himself, with a yawn. " Well, I rather think it was," said Jehu, with a smile of ineffable disdain. "I've driv on this road fifteen years, but I never was so near as to-night. If I was on t'other side' of ' Ball Mountain,' and my wife on this (only three days married, recollect), I would not drive that stage down ' Ball Mountain,' as I have to-night, to keep her from running away with a darkey." " Why, you don't think there was any real danger, do you ? " inquired another ' insider,' thrusting his head into the cold air. " I calculate I do," said the driver contemptuously. " If the off fore-leader, when I reached the ' devil's rut,' " he continued, " had fallen, as he intended, your body would now be as flat as either back-seat cushion in that stage." " Lord, bless us, is it possible ! " sighed another ' insider;' " but it is all very well we have escaped, and we must run a little risk rather than be delayed in our journey." Appreciating more than my fellow-travellers, the terrible ordeal through which we had just passed, I have often in my dreams fancied myself on a stage- 312 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. coach, just tumbling down the ravines that yawn on the sides of " Ball Mountain," and when I have started into wakefulness, I have speculated on that principle of the American character that is ever impelling it forward ; but it never forcibly struck me as a national peculiarity, until I read Howitt's journey down hill among the sturdy Grermans of the Old World. THE END. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 647 772 ■'if 'Mm I'-- ■^■■yiiiiii