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THE TEXAN RANGER.

 

 

THE

TEXAN RANGER

OB

REAL LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS

BY

CAPTAIN FLACK

AUTHOR OF “THE PRAIRIE HUNTER,” ETC, mo.

 

LONDON:

BARTON & 00., 42, PATERNOSTER ROW.

 

 

F39/
F513"

PREFACE.

IN the following pages, the Author has endeavoureu
to give an idea of the life led on Southern Planta-
tions, at least as it was some few years ago, when
he was in the country, as well as an account of the

game to be found in Texas, and the methods pursued

in its capture.

In one or two instances, the Author has quoted
from a friend, an American writer, where his descrip-
tion of the native sports were given so graphically,
that the Author could not hope to convey his own

experience so well.

The Author, having lived on many Plantations,
has had practical experience as to the cultivation
of Sugar, Cotton, and Tobacco; and he has tried
to describe the culture and preparation of each as

plainly as possible.

LONDON, 1866.

 

 

CONTENTS.

CHAR. PAGE.

I. DESCRIPTION OR THE COUNTRY ... ... 9

II. AN INTRODUCTION To THE SPORTS. ... 22
III. SOMETHING ABOUT PLANTATIONS ... 39
IV. PROFITS OF FARMING . 59
V. HOW SUGAR IS MADE . 77

VI. COTTON: ITS GROWTH AND CULTIVATION . 90
VII. TOBACCO CULTIVATION 118
VIII. A SETTLEMENT HUNT 123
IX. A CLOSE SHAVE 130

X. THE DEATH OF THREE STAGS 138

XI. A ROW AFTER DEER 148
XII. THE BISON 164
XIII. A BIG B’AR FIGHT 181
XIV. GRIZZLY BEAR SHOOTING 189
XV. AN ADVENTURE WITH A COUGAR 196
XVI. THE WILD CAT 202
XVII. THE OPOSSUM .. . .. 209
XVIII. THE AMERICAN PASSENGER PIGEON 222
XIX. SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE 226
XX. ALLIGATOR SHOOTING... 246
XXI. SNAKES 253
XXII. REQUISITE HUNTING WEAPONS 277
XXIII. THE WILD TURKEY . 288
XXIV. THE MUSTANG, OR WILD HORSE 300
XXV. A WILD BULL FIGHT ... 307
XXVI. HOW THE HOOSIER ENJOYED HIS FIRST OYSTER... 313

CONCLUSION 317

 

 

.< "w, s2hnfi‘bflmmuu»‘.1:.“ - a

 

THE TEXAN RANGER.

 

CHAPTER I.
DESCRIPTION or THE COUNTRY:

PERHAPS the account of one who has, for many years,
led the wild life of a hunter of the various kinds of game
in Texas, and the methods followed in pursuing them,
may be interesting to my readers.

A short description of the country, however, is indiSv
pensable to enable them to understand these sketches.

Texas has a very warm climate as compared with
England, the winters being not unlike our summers,
T although occasionally very cold winds, called “ northers,”
, occur in the winter, and generally blow for about three
days. As soon as they have blown themselves out, the
weather becomes quite warm again. The spring and
autumn months are delightful; but June, July, and
- August are disagreeably hot.
I The rivers, which are broad and very long, are

 

 

 

10 THE TEXAN RANGER.

dered by forests that extend on either side of them (often
unbrokenly) six or seven hundred miles. The width of
these forests varies accordingly, as the stream winds in
its course; thus, in some places, they are more than
fifteen miles in depth, in others not fifteen yards, and in
some places the open prairie reaches the blufl‘ river-bank.
Between these river-fringes of forest, are the prairies,
immense “seas of grass,” upon which roam herds of wild
horses, buffalo, deer, antelope, &c. Mule-rabbits (hares),
coyotes (prairie wolves), too, are found upon them.

On the larger prairies no bush or tree meets the eye ;
the horizon all around is seen as unobstructedly as on
the ocean ; and, as the wind sweeps over the tall grass,
which bends and recovers itself, it strikingly resembles,
except in colour, the waves at sea. Some of the smaller
prairies are dotted with clumps of trees, called “islands
of timber,” or “mottes,” and with single trees often of
immense size, which gives them quite a park-like appear-
ance. These prairies are of great benefit to the settlers,
who are enabled to graze upon them immense stocks of
cattle and horses free of expense.

. Although the stockowners collect their herds of cattle
twice a year, for the purpose of marking and branding
the calves, a great number are overlooked, either from
their being in the forest, or from their having joined the
Wild cattle-herds, numbers of which are to be found in
the forests ; and these are as wild as the deer, and
require as much skill and caution for the hunter to
approach them as any other game. The stockowners
wage incessant war with the wild herds, and never omit

DESCRIPTION or THE COUNTRY. I]:

‘xian opportunity of killing them, as they entice off their:

‘ “ “ gentle ” cattle.
There are no Wild hogs in the woods and jungles, such
‘8 as are common in India and Germany, though there are
‘ id thousands of the domestic hogs Which have gone Wild;_
“e and these are killed for the same reason that the Wild
”“5 cattle are. The only wild pigs common to America are
"d the peccaries ; and only the young sows are ever eaten,
"s and even these but seldom. These animals are the most
3 utterly fearless little brutes—they know no danger, count
'3 no odds, and often prove troublesome and dangerous to
‘3 the hunter and his dogs.
Many of the planters, who have large plantations of

’-) cotton or of sugar-cane, and who employ a great number
') of negroes in their cultivation, engage a hunter, whose
"1' business it is to kill the wild animals in the forests, to
i feed their people upon. In this capacity I have been
) often employed, when I have become tired of hunting
upon my own private account. “My own private
account,” perhaps, requires explanation. When engaged
on a plantation, with one or two hundred mouths de-
pending daily upon my exertions, the toil is almost
incessant, but my salary is fixed, and my duties clear;
unless, therefore, I meet with very great success, I am
obliged to be almost daily in the saddle.

“(Then I hunt for myself, I camp either alone, or
f with one or two companions, in the vicinity of a
' town, to which we carry the spoils of the chase, and
dispose of it to the merchants, hotel—keepers, mecha-
' nics, &0. Then my time is my own, as I am bound

v-‘H.,_.,..,w_;

 

 

12 THE TEXAN RANGER.

by no engagement, and I can take an idle fit when I
please.

Hunting as a business, and hunting as a sport, are two
very different affairs; and, though generally passionately
fond of shooting, yet at times I have been so worn out
and tired, that I have hated the sight of “horse, and
hound, and rifle.”

The principal meats required on a plantation are beef,
venison, and pork: the latter the negroes prefer; the
former, the white people ; whilst venison is so common,
that it is thought but little of.

The deer must be stalked; and it is better to hunt
wild cattle in the same manner, though dogs are some-
times employed; and you must have recourse to them
also to bring the porkers to bay.

When the hunter. starts at daylight, he is careful to
notice the direction of the wind, as he must move “ up ”
it, or against it, to prevent the animals he is in search of
snuffing “the tainted gale,” as they can smell a man at
a great distance. He must move cautiously, and, if
possible, as silently as his shadow ; no stick must crack
under his feet, if he is on foot; and if he is mounted, he
must guide his horse carefully by fallen branches, and
keep his hoofs upon the soft turf as much as possible.

If he sees deer in the distance, he dismounts and ties
up his horse, and then slips from tree to tree in their
direction, keeping himself concealed as well as he can,
and carefully watching the deer. If he sees one of their
white tails switch, he must remain in the position he
happens to be in at that instant, with no more motion

L4-

M
ii

~A.’ a.

r
nu,

;{ miles.

 

nascmrnox or m COUETRY. 18

" . than a marble statue, for when a deer switches its tail,

it is about to raise its head and look around; and, should

‘the hunter remain perfectly motionless, he may escape

the deer‘s observation. “Then the deer lowers its head,
he may resume his approach.

'When within range, the tops of the shoulders, through .
the bladebones, is the spot that will drop your quarry in '
his tracks; whereas, a body-wound, although it may kill ‘
it, may not do it instantly, and you may have some
trouble tracking the wounded beast by its blood for a

: mile or more, and perhaps run the not altogether im-
‘ probable chance of losing it in the end. I have often

tracked, by its blood, a crippled deer for more than three

A wounded deer scarcely ever recovers, however slightly

it may be wounded, as some of the prowling wolves are
pretty certain to cross its bloody trail in the night, and
a with their keen noses they run it up when it is stifi‘ and

incapable of flight.

\Vhen hunting deer upon the prairie, the hunter must
take advantage of every inequality in the ground, of
every bunch of weeds, of anbhills, and tussocks of

f5 grass, often crawling upon his stomach for a long disc
gi tance. Sometimes, however, he can, through their

curiosity, entice them up within shooting distance, by
raising his hand and arm, and then concealing them after
the deer have noticed the motion; for they are, like the
antelope, very curious, and always try to inspect any
unusual appearance which they cannot understand. In
this way I have often got a double shot at them at very

 

 

 

 

‘14: THE TEE/CAN RANGER.

short distances, when well concealed, frequently drawing
them up within twenty—five yards of me, and even less.

When the moon shines brightly at night, the deer
feed by its light, reposing during the day in the high
prairie grass, or in the flags and reeds which grow along
the. edges of the slough and ponds. Armed with a stout,
large-bore, double-barrelled gun, which will throw, as a '
load from each barrel, from twelve to sixteen buck—shot
as large as marrowfat peas, the sportsman, mounted upori
a steady shooting-horse, rides into these rough laces
and starts the deer up from among his horse’s feet,
making his double shots, and tumbling the stags over,
right and left, as an English gamekeeper kills rabbits in
a gorse covert.

The fawns are very pretty spotted little things, easily
tamed; as they grow older they gradually lose the little
White spots, and by the time they are a year old these
spots entirely disappear. Numbers are yearly caught
and brought up tame by the settlers.

\Vild cattle always remain deep in the forests and cane-
brakes during the day; and even at night, when they
sometimes venture upon the prairies to graze, they never
go far from the shelter of the woods, to which they re-
treat upon the slightest alarm. then wounded they
are very dangerous, charging the hunter with great fury.

There are very few hunters who have not talc—>3 to tell
of their narrow escapes when they have been pursuing
these animals. I once had my hunting-shirt stripped
from my back by a wild bull I had wounded. Fortunately
his fierce rush carried him some distance beyond me ;

DESCRIPTION on THE COUNTRY. 15

wand before he could turn round to renew his attack, I
:rhad climbeda tree. Perched up out of his reach, he
iikept me a prisoner imtil he bled to death from the
:awounds I had given him.
Notwithstanding the dash of danger attached to it,
sit has its charms, especially when the hunter uses dogs.
The fierce clamour of these, the mighty rush of the
iherd, as the cane and undergrowth bends and snaps
.1 under their thundering charge, the hoarse bellowing, and
5i the quick gun reports, whilst your horse quivers under
(you with excitement as he bears you on at full speed, all
J combineto make a scene compared with which English
a sports are tame indeed.
Sometimes the hunter proceeds on foot and “still—
{ hunts,” Le. stalks the cattle in the same way as deer, by
r minding in which direction the wind is blowing, and by
? taking advantage of the trees and formation of the
; ground. A good hunter can in this way kill three or
; four cows or bulls in a morning.
Having killed as many as he thiaks necessary, the
: hunter returns to the plantation (for he is not the but-
t‘cher), and informs the owner or overseer what he has
done ; the overseer then calls up three or four negroes.
A wagon and some mules are made ready, a couple of
axes are put into it, and some butcher-knives, a whet-
stone, and perhaps a hatchet; when all is ready the
‘ hunter leads the way to where he has left his slaughtered
'garne. Often it is very toilsome work, as a passage has
’ ‘to be cut with the axes to admit the wagon; but when
once the hunter has pointed out the game, his work is

 

 

16 THE TEXAN RANGER.

_. over, and he leaves the negroes to skin and quarter the

animals, and rides back to the plantation for his bath
and breakfast.

Hogs stick to one another, and take each other’s parts
in the most plucky manner possible. It is sufficient for
you to wound one and make it squeal, to bring up to its
rescue all the others within hearing; these will “rally ”
round their wounded mate, and fight in its defence.
“Rally” is a hunter’s term, when hogs form a circle,
With their heads pointed facing their assailants. In this
position, if your dogs face them resolutely, you may kill
most of the company.

“ No thought is theirs of dastard flight.
Link’d in the serried phalanx tight."
They fight to the last pig.

\Vhen hogs have “rallied,” a large Colt’s six-shooter
is the best weapon, as they do not pay much attention
to a mounted man, though they would charge a footman
instantly. The plantation hunter’s object is to kill
game—or rather meat—as expeditiously, and in as large
a quantity as possible 3 he therefore confines his at-
tention to the larger animals, nor is he very particular
as to their condition, all being “fish which come to his
net.”

The private hunter seeks quality and variety, as he has
to sell his spoils to different people; so he shoots quail
and grouse, snipe and woodcock, for the merchants’
Wives; wild turkeys and fat venison for the hotel land-
lords; and ducks, teal, geese, and other wild-fowl, for
all. When he comes across a racoon or opossum, he

DESCRIPTION or THE COUNTRY. 17

shoots him as a present for his negro grgpm, and his
horses fare none the worse for the bribe,%§pof al1

s M?

dainties the ’possum is to the negro taste‘gthe most
choice. May I, and may my young readers, in the
course of the long years I trust they may enjoy, never
eat worse food! for, with the hand like paws, and the
head and tail removed, they could not distinguish it
from a sucking pig.

The black bear is found in the Texas forests, but he is
more migratory in his habits than the deer, or almost
any other game. Texas, as stated earlier in this chapter,
has a very warm climate, and only two months in the
year, January and February, can be called wet months;
even then the rains are partial, so that in some large
districts scarcely any falls; then, too, the “mast,” i.6.
acorns, nuts, and Wild-fruit generally, is scarce; but
when it is plentiful, there congregate the bears, led by
instinct.

then there is a general failure of nuts, the bears at-s
tack the planter’s fields of maize (Indian corn),pumpkins,.
sweet potatoes, &c., and do much damage. Then, When
it is found that a field is nightly attacked, the planter
musters his neighbours and their dogs, and a grand bear--
hunt takes place. I have assisted on such occasions ;,
and upon one, several bears (cubs and old ones) were:
killed, in and around one plantation, in less than three
hours.

There is no more danger in this sport than in an
English fox-hunt. Travellers are apt to exaggerate the
supposed dangers they have passed through. lgeally,

 

 

 

 

18 THE mm RANGER

snakes, alligators, and Wild animals, are not the dangerous
creatures to the inhabitants they are imagined, or de-
scribed to be , they are mere bug-bears, and partake
more of the insect than the brute, when approached and
understood.

I spent nearly fifteen years in the wilderness, and
could, if disposed, tell many marvellous false yarns of
dreadful encounters with wild beasts. In all that time
I may have had, from wild cattle chiefly, perhapsa dozen
close shaves, but, as arule, I have always felt pretty safe,
and that, having my gun cleaned and loaded by myself,
the odds were always a hundred to one in my favour.

I have shot several bears, but I do not recollect ever
having been in the slightest danger.

The panther, cougar, puma, or “ painter,”—for by all
these names he is known,—is to be found in our woods ;
but he is rarely seen, except after a long and difficult ‘
chase ; and a hunter may make the wilderness his home.
for a lifetime, and never see one, unless he is aided by
his hounds. I have shot three; there are few hunters
who have shot twenty. The largest I ever saw measured
nine feet six inches from the tip of his nose to the black
tuft on his tail.

There are plenty of leopard cats and lynxes: they are
are not formidable. I think little Red Riding Hood
would not have been in much danger, had the wolf which
personated her grandmamma, been a Southern prairie
wolf; they are very cowardly, and quite unlike the large
Canadian grey wolf.

_ Many of my readers would enjoy a day’s squirrel

DESCRIPTION or THE COUNTRY. 19

shooting : they are of three kinds, the grey (cat squirrel)
the fox (red squirrel), and the black squirrel. You can-
not go far in the woods Without seeing hundreds ; they
are eaten too; and even English boys, their first preju-
dice overcome as to eating unusual meat, would like
them. I have seen many Texan lads Who could only
just lift a gun to their shoulder, kill a dozen or two
before breakfast.

The wariest, shyest, most suspicious of all game,—
beasts or birds,—is the Wild turkey, as he is the largest
of the birds. Talk of the eye of a hawk l—they are but
blinking owls’ eyes compared With theirs. However
foolish they may be in a domesticated state, they are
Wide awake enough When Wild. “ Is so and so a good
hunter?” “Yes, he’s a sure card With Wild turkeys;
he can fool ’em, and beat them talking their own
language.” When this is said of a hunter, you may be
sure he is a good one. There are several methods of
shooting wild turkeys.

In the late summer, When the broods are about half
grown, they are easily killed by letting a dog run amongst ,
them, to scatter the flock; the hunter then calls back
his dog, and makes him crouch beside him in some place
of concealment; he then makes as nearly as possible the
Whistle of the young birds, a cry easily imitated, or else
he uses his “turkey caller ” (this is made from the small
bone of the middle joint of the Wing of a hen turkey),
with which he is able, after a little practice, to make
the peculiar Cluck of the old mother bird; in this man-
ner, he often succeeds in killing the vvhole brooch

  

’l‘IIE TEXAN RANGER.

Another plan is to let his dog “tree” the turkeys;
i awell-trained dog will sit under a tree upon which a
turkey has perched, and by keeping up an incessant
'barking,both lead his master to the spot, and occupy
the bird’s attention, so that the hunter can get within
shot. In the spring turkeys are easily lured within
shot by clucking with the “turkey-caller.” The wild
turkeys often weigh as much as thirty pounds.
5 Grouse (pinnated grouse or prairie hens) and quail are
i killed with pointers or setters, as in England. In winter,
the grouse often “pack.” I have seen three or four
hundred together. Very few of the American hunters
> ever condescend to shoot anything smaller than a wild
E, turkey, considering small game as not worth the ammu-
% nition it would take to kill them ; for very few are sports-
men, in the English acceptation of the term : their object
is meat for the use of their families, and not for the
1 sport’s sake, as with many here.

A most useful implement to the stockowner is the
lasso. \Vithout it, he would have great difficulty in
managing his herds, for with it he can catch any animal
he wishes. The hunter, too, finds it of use, as does the
traveller; and you never find any one on horseback
without a lasso or two hanging on the saddle.

They are of two kinds: the cahros, or cabresto, is made.
of plaited hair ; the lariat is made from plaited thongs of
sun-dried hide. This last is tough and strong as twisted
wire; but it must be occasionally smeared with salted
grease to keep it from getting kinky; the former,
when new, is strong, and flies truer, as there are no kinks

 

DESCRIPTION on THE COUNTRY. ' ‘ » 21

in it. I‘orty or fifty feet is the proper length of the
lasso.

IVhen ready for use, the rope is held in the right hand ;
its proper size varies according to the animal against
which it is going to be launched, but it usually reaches
from the shoulder of the thrower to the ground, say five
feet; this doubled, would make it about ten or eleven
feet in circumference. ,

The slack is held coiled up in the left hand, ready to
be loosed the instant the loop (after two or three whirls
round the hunter’s head), is thrown.

The Mexicans are very expert with the lasso : with it
they catch the wild horses and other animals upon the
prairies, scarcely ever missing their cast, for as children,
their playthings are miniature lassos, instead of hoops
and pegtops, as with us. ‘

The traveller, whilst he tethers out his horse with one
lasso to graze, encircles the blankets which form his bed
with a black hair cabros. Over this no snake will crawl;
and he thus snores comfortably, with the conviction that
no rattle-snake will be his bed-fellow.

Altogether the free wild life of a hunter has its charms
for some natures ; it has, too, its dangers and toils ; and,
though I am in England now, I should be very sorry, if
I thought I should, with all its drawbacks, never lead it
again. I hope once more that it will be mine, that many
a wild horse will discover my weight, and many a wild
bull find that my right hand has not forgotten its
cunning.

H'xmww; .vaA ..~.

 

 

 

22

CHAPTER II.
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE SPORTS.

IN the first chapter I only glanced very generally at the
different kinds of game, and the methods used in their
pursuit, so that I could not relate adventures which have
happened to myself, or to others Within my own know-
ledge.

Planters who are fond Of shooting, Often go upon what
is called a “ camp-hunt,” taking with them a neighbour
or two, or any friends who may be living with them at
the time. Very often they are accompanied by some
friend who is not much of a hunter himself, but who is
desirous for a change, and wishes to eat fat venison ribs
roasted by the camp-fire—for somehow or other meals
prepared in the woods are relished much more,——perhaps
because they are seasoned by a good appetite,—than the
carefully-prepared dishes at plantation-house.

These camp-himts sometimes last a week or two, but
sometimes we camp out only one night, so as to enjoy
an evening and a morning’s hunt, and then return home
with our game.

On an occasion Of this kind, our hunting—party was
accompanied by a short, but immensely fat little man,
‘ a non-hunter, but a great lover of the good things which
all limiters can prepare. Our fat friend was no mean
, cook himself, and could prepare a frying-pan full Of
: sausage-patties, made from the breast of a Wild turkey,

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE SPORTS. 23

and mince-d up with some lean of a sugar-cured ham, and
some green capsicums, that would tempt the most vir-
tuous and self-denying.

We had all collected at sunset round our camp-fire,—
for, in a country lying so far south as Texas there is
little or no twilight; and after we had concluded supper,
we filled our little black pipes, or rolled up or corn-
shucl: cigaritos, and stretching ourselves upon our blan-
kets, began “ yarning,” as is the custom of hunters when
they bivouac in the Wilderness.

An hour might have passed thus, as we watched our
smoke curl up towards the tree-tops overhead, when all
at once a strange snapping noise was heard, as though a
troupe of negro minstrels had gone mad, and were clash.
ing their “ bones ” together as fast as they could.

“Tree, boys!” shouted old Dockerell, an old hunter
and trapper; “it’s a gang of Mexican hogs, and they’ll
cut your legs off if you don’t tree to rights.” Each
dashed off to climb a tree, where we remained perched
until the hiexican hogs had retired, which they fortu-
nately soon did, and, as we supposed, without discovering
us; otherwise, so pugnacious are they, and so fearless,
that they might have kept us “ tree’d ” till morning gave
us an opportunity of using our weapons upon them.

As the snapping together of their sharp tusks died
away in the distance, we returned to the fire, all but our
fat friend, whom we soon heard calling for assistance to
help him down: so, seizing some flaming brands from the
fire, we hastened to relieve him.

As soon as we saw him, all burst into a hearty laugh,

 

24: THE TEXAN RANGER.

for the fat man had endeavoured to climb the first tree
he came to, an immense elm, the trunk of which was con-
siderably larger round than he was himself ; and although
in his fright and confusion he had worked manfully to
climb it, and had fancied that he had reached a perilous
elevation, he was really only sitting up on an above-ground
root, not three inches from the earth, with his legs and
arms glued to the tree, and the perspiration rolling down
his cheeks with his exertions,—for in the dark he thought
he was at least forty feet from the ground.

For a few minutes he was out of temper, as we
“ chafi'ed ” him, but a tumbler of corn-whiskey punch
soon soothed his anger, and at last he laughed as heartily
as any of us at the affair.

Hunters upon a camp-hunt almost always go alone,
for no matter how many are in the party, each selects a
portion of the forest for his own “ still—hunting ” (27. e.
stalking). The reason for this is, that one man mores
more silently than two, and noise must be avoided, for
the wild game,—birds and beasts,—are quick of sight,
and smell, and hearing.

I was once employed by a cotton planter as a hunter
. for his plantation. One day, on his return home, he said
to me, “There is a countryman of yours just settled
about two miles from here. I heard some chopping in
the forest, and rode in to see what it was. He has a
Wife and several small children, who will not be of much
assistance to him for some years to come. I promised
to send him half-a-dozen negroes to-morrow, who will put
up his house in no time, and I told him that I had an

AN INTRODUCTION To THE SPORTS. 25

Englishman living with me who would kill him a deer
now and then. Was I right?”

“ Quite right,” I said. “But when did you tell him
to come ?”

“ Oh, he’ll be here early enough, no doubt.”

That was just exactly what I was afraid of, for I knew
well the sporting propensities of my countrymen, and I

' knew also that if this new settler possessed a gun or
even a pistol, he would bring it along and wish to ac-
company me, and then good-bye to silence.

Sure enough, long before daylight, l\Ir. Smith (I shall
not give his real name) arrived, and Sand, the planter,
lent him a horse and blowing-horn, sO that he might
accompany me. As for agun, he had an Old, light, single-
barrelled thing, which he had probably picked up at
some old curiosity shop, and which was more likely to
prove fatal to whoever fired it than to the game it might
be aimed at.

As we rode along to the ferry, where I intended to
cross the Brazos River, I tried to impress upon my com-
panion the great necessity there was for the most
absolute silence, so soon as we turned into the forest and
began our hunt.

On our road to the river I learnt something of the

' history of my new acquaintance. He had been a tobacco-
nist in London, but the confinement had injured his
health, he had, therefore, sold his business and decided
upon emigrating. His capital, which was not very great

.. at starting, had gradually dwindled away, his expenses

if? having been much more than he calculated upon 3 so,

26 THE TEXAN RANGER.

after paying for one hundred acres of land, he found
himself nearly penniless. But the voyage and land-
travel had improved his health, and he looked his
troubles squarely in the face, as most Englishmen do,
knowing that industry, in a few years, would bring him
a competency. .

Across the river there was a piece of the forest which
abend 0f the stream almost made into an island, .nd
which was in shape very much like a horse-shoe, sup-
posing the heels of the shoe to be very much contracted
and brought near each other. The length of the bend
was about two miles, and its breadth one and a half,
whilst the entrance to the bend, between where the river
almost ran round upon itself again, was not more tha
two hundred yards across.

All this I explained to my companion, and told him
that, in case we became separated, all he would have to
do would be to ride directly upon his shadow until he
struck the river bank, and then to follow that round
until he came to the woods-road, which led from the
ferry-house across the heel of the horse shoe-shaped piece
of forest, and when he had once reached this, the house
would be in sight. Smith having said that he perfectly
understood my directions, we plunged into the forest.

The woods were here pretty open and clear of under—
growth, except here and there, when we came upon small
thickets of upawn, or dog-weed, when the greatest silence
and caution were necessary; for, although it enabled
the hunter,——more easily than in a denser forest,—to
perceive his game, it also enabled that to see him.

AN INTRODUCTION To THE SPORTS. 27

Now, it is less easy than most persons would suppose,
ito see game in an American forest, until the hunter has
lhad a great deal of practice, for there are so many grey-
llooking old stumps, which resemble deer at certain
gseasons,—so many old logs which have decayed down to
étouch-wood, of a light-brown colour, so as to resemble a
istag when he is, as it is technically called, in the red (as
{they are in the late summer or early autumn—for deer
lchange their colour at difi‘erent seasons),—so many stag-
lhorned branches of fallen trees, that even an old hunter
iis sometimes at fault.

f The first game we camein sight of was a small flock
iof wild turkeys, and I knew that, being late in the year,
it was no use trying to call them up, as I could have
idone a couple of months earlier, or as I should most
ilikely be able to do in the spring. There was, therefore,
lonly one plan that I thought likely to give me a shot,
and that was, to fire at them, although far beyond range,
lso that my bullet, whistling through the flock, might
icause them to tree, and allow me to approach them when
iperched. ,

I Just as I expected, as soon as they heard my ball,
{they flew up into the trees around them : so, dismounting,
lI requested Smith to hold my horse, hoping by this to
lkeep him quiet and out of my way; but this by no
lmeans suited his view of the case, for he longed to kill a
:lwild turkey, and although I suspected this would ruin
XEmy chance, I did not like to insist upon his remaining
ipassive, and I recollected, too, that every one must have
la. beginning.

}

28‘ THE TEXAN RANGER.

Advancing cautiously along, I carefully searched the

trees, and presently discovered a turkey sitting upon a '

sycamore tree, the brown and purple plumage of the
bird contrasting strongly with the bleached, bark-stripped
trunk of the tree.

“There’s one! there’s one! Look! look! don’t you V
see it?” shrieked my companion, giving the turkey a '

hint which it at once took, and the rest, hearing the
“ put, put ” of this bird, and the heavy sweep of its wings,

 

took flight too, and followed their leader in seeking safety .

far away in the forest.

After losing a shot or two at deer, I determined to 3'
drop my companion for a time, as I felt it would be use- 1

less to hope for a shot as long as he remained with me ; ‘

so I persuaded him to ride a couple of hundred yards off,
but abreast of me, and to sound a low note on his horn
occasionally, so as to inform me as to his whereabouts,—
secretly intending to give him the slip, and then to blow
him up upon my horn when I had finished hunting.

As soon as I had lost sight of my new acquaintance, I
put spurs to my horse and galloped off. Crossing the
ferry road, I dived into the forest on the other side,

where neither his exclamations nor horn-blowing could ‘

disturb the game ; and here I speedily succeeded in kill-
ing a deer and a couple of turkeys. Then returning to

Wm, V V_

the road, I sounded several blasts upon my horn, and was ‘

faintly answered at some distance by Smith.

At last, in about half-an-hour, guided by my signals, ‘

he reached the road, looking very much frightened at .:

being, as he supposed, lost hopelessly; so I lost no time

an monucnox m m sroars. 29

iin scolding him for riding of and leaving me, which had
ithe desired effect, and prevented him bringing the same
lcharge against myself.

If any of my readers should consider this conduct
rather unkind, I can only say that I knew the man was
in no danger, and that I could easily recover him: be-
sides I thought it would be truer kindness to leave him
for a time till I couldkill a deer for the use of his family,
than to ride about all day tiring my horse and myself in
his company for nothing.

Sometimes though, when we are on a camp hunt, and
have a tyro along, we do occasionally play off a. harmless
practical joke, such as the following.

I had succeeded in getting a young Englishman a
situation as tutor in a family, and, as the two plantations
upon which we were employed were only about five miles
apart, Brady, as I shall call him, used to ride over and
spend his Saturdays with me, for in America school-boys
have no half-holiday on Wednesday, but have the whole
of Saturday instead ; and very often he would ride over
on Friday evening and sleep in my Wigwam, so that we
might have a long chat about the “ old country.”

Brady was town-bred, and I believe had never ridden
a horse at all until he came to Texas. He, therefore,
never carried a gun, having quite as much to do “to sit
his horse,” as he could comfortably manage. I often
found his horse useful, as I could pack game upon it
when my own had become loaded.

One Friday morning, a friend of mine, Major Brown-
low, sent me word that he was going to camp out that

30 THE mus: RANGER.

night, and wished me to go with him, adding that he had
two friends staying with him, and that he should take a
negro or two to do the rough work of the camp. I at
once mounted a negro boy, and dispatched him to ask
Brady to come over as early as he could, so that he might
see what a camp-hunt was like, for he had never seen one.
As Brady had not made his appearance by half—past three,
I told Major Brownlow to ride on, and that when my
friend arrived I would follow with him to the spot fixed
upon for our camp.

About four, Brady rode up, and we at once started
after the Major. As we rode along, I hinted that the
panthers were rather plentiful in that part of the forest
where our camp was to be formed; and by the time we
saw the camp-fire glancing through the trees, I had
succeeded in getting him slightly excited.

Putting the Major up to it, he began, as we dis-
cussed our supper, to relate some awful stories about
bears and panthers, and these were continued as we
smoked our pipes, till at last the first owl hooted—
woo-oo-ah-woo-oo-ah, and up we all started, the first
owl being answered by several‘others around us in the
forest. -

“ Climb up the trees for your lives,” shouted the Major ;
“ pick saplings, they can’t follow you there, but the place
is alive with ‘ painters.’ ” i

I could not climb for laughing, nor could the Major,
but Brady was up a young tree as if he had never all
his life done anything else but climb up greased poles s
at village feasts.

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE SPORTS. 31

At last, after firing of]? a gun or two, we declared
the panthers had departed, and induced Brady to de-
scend, when we explained to him that the noises we
had heard were caused by owls, and that it was a joke
we had played him, and that he might sleep securely.
He took it very well, and an hour later the forest rang
with some of his songs, as he took his share of a bowl
of “ apple-jack ” prepared by Major Brownlow.

I was once upon a visit to a planter, when one evening
his negro horse-keeper reported that some of the horses
had not come up as usual for their corn. He was told
to look them up the following morning, as soon as it
was light. The negro was early on foot, taking a rough
wood road which had been cleared for the purpose of
hauling timber, thinking that, should the horses have
crossed it in the night, he would be able to discover
their tracks. The road ran through a canebrake, a
portion of which had been burnt off a year previous,
and some young switch-cane, about two feet high, had
grown up in the place of the tall stout canes which
had been consumed.

\Vhen he had advanced down the road about six
hundred yards from the horse-lot, he observed that the
dew had been brushed off some of the long slender cane-
leavcs by the passage of some large animal, and, although
he saw no hoof-marks, he accounted for that as the
sun had baked the strong red clay as hard as a brick,
which was not likely to receive an impression from an
unshod horse, so he turned into the trail of dew-brushed
leaves, and followed it.

32 THE ram RANGER.

" He had not gone twenty steps, when he saw, stretched
right in his path, an immense panther. The lithe, long,
tawny body of the great cat was crouching close to the
ground; its tail, which it waved from side to side, was
expanded as thick as a man’s thigh; its long, keen, ivory
fangs were exposed in a malignant grin ; its talons, three
inches long, were extended and contracted alternately ;
audits green-grey eyes flashed fire, as it seemed to the
startled negro, who, when he had recovered himself a
little, turned to regain the road; but his heart stood
still with fear, for when he turned to flee, he found him.
self face to face with the panther’s mate.

How the negro gained the read he never knew; but
he did do so, and found a heavy green wagon stanchion,
with which he beat of? the panthers, and gained the
house, bleeding from numerous wounds inflicted by the
cruel talons of the fierce beasts.

A few toots on the horn soon collected all the hounds
and curs upon the plantation; and the planter and his
friend, with myself, were soon upon the trail of the
would-be assassins. These the hounds soon compelled
to take to trees, when we dealt out summary justice to
them.

The negro recovered; but the last time I saw him,
which was ten years after his desperate encounter, I
asked him to take ofi’ his shirt, and show me the old '
scars; and there they were, many of them half an inch
deep, on breast and back, nearly as deep as when they
were newly ploughed up by the strong claws of the .
nanthers.

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE SPORTS. 33

“ Would you like to have another turn with a pair of .
panthers, Jim?” I asked, as the negro put on his shirt.

“De good Lord! no, massa. I most tink poor ole
Jim were a gone coon dat time, for sure.”

In the Southern States neither panthers nor wolves
ever experience extreme hunger, and I do not think a
single cougar would ever attack a full-grown man. That
two will do so, the case cited proves, but I think even
that is of very rare occurrence.

Of course, a wounded panther, as indeed all large
game, when maddened by the sight and smell of their
blood, as well as the pain of their injuries, will always
turn upon their assailant ; but, as a general rule, a wil-
derness life is tolerably free from danger, unless you get
upon the frontier, and then a wilder animal than any
of the forest beasts, may perhaps be encountered—the
red-skinned Indian warrior.

I have said that a single panther rarely attacks a man
knowingly, though he has been known to do so.

A hunter was concealed behind a log, engaged in
yelping on his “turkey caller,” trying to attract some of
those wild birds, in a forest in Arkansas. After calling
for some time, he thought he heard a leaf stir upon the
other side of the fallen tree, and gently raised his head,
hoping to see a turkey within reach of his gun, but he
was startled by seeing a large panther, which had been
attracted by his imitation call of a turkey.

The great cat was anxiously trying to find out the
precise WhereabOuts of the seeming bird, so that he

could make his spring, when the grizzled hair and beard
3

34 THE TEXAN RANGER.

of the hunter appeared above the log. The surprise was
mutual. The panther gazed for a few minutes at the
man, then quietly slunk away. The hunter, having only
a shot- -gun, loaded with buck—shot of rather a small size,
for turkey shooting, did not think it advisable to risk a
shot,well knowing that, should he onlywound thebeast,he
would bring a desperate and doubtful battle on his hands.

A “different guess ” man was Josh Springett from
this hunter, for Josh killed a panther with his knife,
after his gun had burst and become useless ; and he was,
too, the attacking party.

These are Springett’ s own words: ~—

“Ihad been out all day since sun- -up, in fact; and
having had not so much luck as would fill a fi jing-pan,
I was considerably in the dumps—foot-sore, hungry, just
about as miserable, as ever I hope to be. \Vell, just as
the day was fadin’, and I was ploughin’ my way through
a smartish bit of wood, I heard a rustlin’ overhead, and,
looking 11p, I saw, lying all along abig limb, his tail slow-
ly waving from side to side, and his green eyes twinkling
like lamps, about as big a ‘ painter’ as I ever clapped
eyes on. Hungry as I was, I warn’t ‘painter ’ hungry ;
and though his jacket, as I could see, was in prime order,
and worth the strippin’, I do think I should have let him
run, but for them sai cyb oreen eyes of his. So I stept
back a bit, and putting up my piece, covered one of his
twinklers, and let fly. How it came abOut, I never
could make out; but instead of that touch of the trig-
ger perducing just a hang, a puff of blue smoke, and a
dead ‘painter,’ it perduced nothing but a flash like

 

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE sronrs. 85

lightning, and a roar like thunder, and tumbled me flat
to the ground as if I had been clubbed by an Injun.

“ It wor full a minute before my wits, that were scat-
‘ tered like partridges, came back to me, and I found out
what the row was about ; and I’ve often thought since,
what a lucky job it was that the row scattered the
‘ painter’s ’ wits as well as mine, or he could have been
down, and made meat of me as easy as nothing. I was
in a pretty pickle: my piece, that had stood by me
so many years, had burst at the breech, and my left hand
had lost a finger, and was streaming away pretty. Be-
sides this, a dreadful smell of singed hair, and a feeling
of darning needles about my face, told of the roasting
up of my whiskers, which you must know had been
growing since I was a youngster, and I was getting to-
be rather fond of them. I do think it was rage at
losing them whiskers that kept the pluck in me, and
saved me from growing sick-at the sight of my ragged
left hand.

“I got on my legs, and looked up into the big tree,
and there was the cussed thing that had caused all the
mischief, about ten feet higher up than when I first saw
him, with his green eyes fixed on mine, as though as-
tonished at my altered appearance. The sight of the
beast at once scouted my aches like a cloud of feathers,
and I made up my mind to have it out with him. While
I settled ‘ how,’ I pulled some herbs and bound them
round my finger stump with one of the sleeves of my
shirt: Then, seeing that the ‘painter’s’ tree was an
easy one to climb, I unsheathed my long hunting-knife,

36 THE TEXAS RANGER.

clappedit between my teeth, and prepared to ascend.
I knew that as long as I kept my face towards him, the
cowardly villain would retreat higher and higher up the
tree, and I determined to follow him to the topmost
limb, where he would want all his legs to hold on, while
I gave him one smart poke behind the shoulder-blade
with my knife, that would send him spinning down like.
a eockchafer.

“It was by this time grown so dark that the ‘painter’s ’
eyes were certainly the plainest part of him, and, guided
by them and the rustle he made among the boughs, I
tracked up the tree. He, however, had a limb more
than I had, and, consequently, made better headway;
and, presently, when I had halted to take a bit of a rest
and again looked up, the rustling had ceased, the two
green lamps had gone out, and for all the signs of a
‘painter’ in that tree, the cunning beast might have
been a mile away. Still, I knew he must be there;
and, what was more, I knew it was the habit of the
creature to lie so flat and close to a bough, that, even
in broad daylight, it was a tough job to tell which was
bark, and which ‘painter;’ and if my ‘painter’ was
lucky enough to get me at rearward, it might go queer
with me. So I kept my weather-eye open, and trailed
up more cautious than ever. It was a great tree—
seven feet through, if it was an inch. When I got up
so high, I could see that the top of the main stem had
been struck square off, while the limbs sprung up high
around it.

“‘That will be a good place to sit on for a rest,’

AF INTRODUCTION TO THE 830313. 37

thinks I; ‘and so I’ll get as high as that, if I don’t
get higher.’ At last I clomb within four feet of the top
of the broken trunk, and as the bit thereabout was bare
of handy branches, I pitched the fingers and thumb of
my lame hand in a sizeable hole in the bark, about twenty
inches from the top, and, with my other hand, dug my
knife into the wood for a final haul up. All at once I was
aware of a sort of tickling about the rag bound round
the hand that was plunged in the hole, and I turned
giddy and sick as a horse. I knew what was the matter
with the‘hand, yet, as my body was hanging, I couldn’t
draw it back. The ‘ painter’s ’ jaws Were the other side
of the hole, and he had sniffed the bloody rag, and was
licking it.

“ By a great effort I wriggled myself a little higher
to release the helpless hand; but, at the same moment,
the hungr ' ‘painter’ took it between his fangs, and dreW
it in as far as the wrist.

“ The deadly fright must have given to my body the
nimbleness of a spider. I plucked my knife from the
' trunk, and, holding it in my mouth, sprung up from
the bongh on which my feet rested, and caught the edge
of the hollow,——for so it turned out, at the top. The
weather had worn the summit of the broken trunk like
a basin, and in this basin the ‘ painter’ was crouched.
My hand in the hole at the side of the hollow was as
though a blacksmith had it in his vice; but the thick
rag round it saved me from feeling the brute’s teeth.
I clung to the trunk with my knees and chest, and
having thus got my right hand at liberty, I gripped the

 

38 THE TEXAN RANGER.

handle of my long knife, and, reaching over the edge of
the basin, I slashed and stabbed like a madman. The
first poke was enough to make him leave his hold on my
hand ; but he could no more rise from his lair under that
downpour of knife-blade, than he could sink through the
other way.

“ \Iy stars! if ever a poor ‘ painter’ was ‘carved,’ that
was the one! Why, there was not enough sound hide
about him to make a pair of leggings.

“ How I found my way down the tree, is more than I
can tell you. I only know that, arrived at the foot of it,
I reeled and went down like a log, and there lay till some
of the fellows found me. I needn’t mention that I
haven’t been up a tree after a ‘painter’ since.”

I have told you several hunting stories ; perhaps a few
words as to the cultivation of the crops,~—sugar, cotton,
and of the tillers of the soil,—the negroes,

 

tobacco, &C.
———may prove useful and interesting.

I shall, of course, having been a hunter, sometimes
return to “the shop,” when, as I write I recall adven-
tures I have met with, or anecdotes I have been told by
trustworthy people.

39

CHAPTER III.
SOMETHING ABOUT rmnmmrons.

I PROMISED in my last chapter to say something about
the cultivation of the crops and their cultivators. I
must, however, first describe the plantation.

I have said that the rivers in Texas are bordered by
forests, and that between these wooded rivers are the
open prairies. At first it would seem better and easier
for the planters to enclose portions of these open mea-
dows for their fields, as by doing so they would avoid
the trouble and toil of felling the trees of the forest
for their clearings. But it has been found by experience
that the soil of the prairies is too stiff, and apt to bake
and crack in very dry seasons ; whilst the forest land on
the riverbanks, composed of decayed vegetable matter
and the alluvial deposits of the river, is rich and deep,
and suffers but little from a long-continued drought.

The forest is composed of a great variety of trees,—
several kinds of oaks, the ash, elm, hickory, pecan, &c.,
and sometimes large cane-brakes (ammdo gigantea),
covering often several thousand acres; and this cane-
break land is considered the very best of all, as the soil
is light and easily worked, and the cane is soon cleared
of.

When a planter has purchased a piece of cane-land,
he sets his negroes to work with large knives, to cut a
broad belt of about twenty yards wide around that

40 THE TEXAN RANGER.

portion he means to enclose for cultivation; when this
has been done he sets fire to the cane he wishes removed,
and in a few hours all but the little black stumps,
standing an inch or so above the ground, has disappeared.

The field is now ready for the plough and for fencing in. '
' Next in estimation to a cane-brake, is awild-peaeh ridge,

as it is easily cleared; though in this case, instead of
fire, the axe has to be used; but as the trees are small,
and the negroes good axe—men, it soon disappears. All
the poles large enough, and all the trees fit for splitting
into rails, are saved to enclose the field with, the brush
and “ lops ” being burnt out of the way.

Should a piece of the heavy-timbered forest be selected,
all the brush and small trees are cut down as before,
Whilst the forest giants, too large to be soon lowered to
the ground, are “ girdled ;” i. 8., a deep circle is cut
around them, a foot or so above the ground, which dos-
troys the circulation of the sap and kills the tree.
Against them, too, when the “ 10p ” is being burnt, largo
stacks of brush are piled and fired, to hasten their
destruction. Still, with all this, it is often eight or ten
years before they finally disappear ; and on such a plan--

tation, five or six years after it has been opened, scores
of these leafless, bleached old skeletons seem to frown

down upon their swarthy destroyers, who “ worm ” the
tobacco, or pick the white cotton “lint ” beneath them.
The field cleared as well as it can be, it is next fenced
in. It is not fenced in at first, on account of the brush—
burning; as under some circumstances, such as a very

high wind or other accident, the rails might get on fireg

SOMETHING ABOUT rmnmrrons. 41

The rails are out about eight feet inlength, with which
is formed a zig-zag or “snake-fence,” the rails being
laid at an angle of about 30°, and carried about eight or
ten rails high. Then at each joint of the fence a post
is set in the ground on either side, and upon these, where
they cross each other, high above the horizontal rails, a
heavy log, called a “rider,” is placed, and the fence is
then complete, being “ staked and ridered.”

When the newly-fenced plantation is made on cane-
brake land, the ploughs, with two mules abreast to each,
can at once proceed to break up the soil. But when the
clearing has been made on the more heavily timbered
part of the forest, oxen are invariably used, as they walk
slower than the mules, besides being stronger and
heavier: for this kind of land is stiffer to break up, for
the first time, than a cane-brake, as well as having num-
bers of tree-stumps, which the ploughman has to dodge
as well as he can, or he will break the point of his share,

It is astonishing to watch these ploughmen, and see
how neatly they avoid collision; now suddenly lifting
the plough on one side, then by main strength raising it
over some other obstacle. It may look tolerably easy,
but it is not so when attempted, as a run-away sailor-
: lad found in the winter of 1848-9.

Jack had “run” his vessel at New Orleans, andto get
out of the way of his captain and officers, he started up
the Mississippi, walking from one plantation to another,
and telling a cock-and-bull story of how he had lost his
parents by cholera, which was at that time raging there.
At last a kind-hearted planter told Jack that he might

l

42 THE TEXAN RANGER.

stay at his place, and he would find him something to do.
So he did odd jobs about the plantation for a day or two,
until one day the planter set him to plough a piece of
new ground with a pair of oxen, and an old mare in front
of these as a sort of guide, as she answered the long
rope reins attached to her, quicker than the oxen would,
which latter, from long practice, followed the old mare
exactly. The planter took a turn or two to show Jack
the way, and it looked so easy, that he soon told his em-
ployer that he thought he could manage very well now
by himself. So after watching Jack for a few minutes,
the planter returned to his house. He had not been
there many minutes before Jack arrived too, very red in
the face, and breathless with running.

“ Hullo I” said the planter, “what’s the matter,
Jack ? ”

“ She’s wrecked, sir! ”

“Wrecked? what do you mean? What’s wrecked?”

“The plough’s wrecked, your honour. She wouldn’t
answer her helm; so she missed stays when I went to
put her about, and ran stem on to a stump, and this clean
wrecked her, your honour. The starboard 02: is where
the larboard ’un ought to be, and the larboard ’un’s to
starboard, and the old mare, she’s clean carried away
altogether!” .

We will now suppose that the field is fenced in and
ploughed, ready for a crop of cotton, this work having
been all performed by the month of March.

A plough, with a share called a “bull tongue,” from its
shape, to which is attached a single mule, opens a long

SOMETHING ABOUT PLANTATIONS. 43

shallow furrow from one side of the field to the other.
A woman with her apron full of cotton-seed follows the
“ bull-tongue,” and drops in the seed pretty thickly.
Each furrow is from six to seven feet distant from the
next, this depending upon the kind of seed sowed; but
for ordinary “uplands” this will be quite sufficient,
though “sea island” requires at least another foot, as
its “ weed,” i. 6. bush, grows more luxuriantly.

Three or four days after the sowing, long green lines
appear, looking like rows of mustard or cress. These are
then chopped out with the hoe, leaving three or four
stalks together, each little bunch being in the row about
eighteen inches apart.

\Vhen nearly or quite three weeks old, these stalks are
thinned out to a “stand,” 2'. e. the strongest stalk is left,
the rest being pulled by the hand. The stalks by this
time are about five or six inches high, and they will not
be thinned any more, though the land between the rows
will be frequently ploughed, and the hoe will often be
used between and around the young plants, to loosen the
soil and keep them clean of weeds and grass.

When five or six weeks old, some of the strongest
plants'will have upon them one or two white blossoms,
and by the time they are two months old, nearly all in
the field will have more or less blossoms upon them.
These blossoms only remain on the plant two days. On
the first day the bloom is white, or pinkish-white ; on the
next it is red, when it falls off, leaving a little green
“ form,” about the size of a small pea. This grows
rapidly, and in about forty days has attained the size of

4:45 THE TEXAN RANGER.

a walnut with the husk on, when it is matured and bursts
open, exposing the snow-white cotton ready for gather-
ing. As the plant grows, it is constantly blossoming, so
that the bush has upon it cotton in all stages—the flower
- in its white stage, then red, the form, the half-grown
hole, and the open cotton.

The picking season lasts from July to Christmas, some~
time prior to which a slight frost generally appears, the
least touch of which is sufficient to destroy so tender a
plant. But although this happens, and all the leaves are
shrivelled up and drop ofi", the developed holes mature
notwithstanding, though no more flowers appear.

An acre of land will produce from about seventeen
hundred to two thousand pounds of “ seed cotton,” i. 6.
cotton as it is gathered, with the seed in it. This, when
ginned, gives about a bale of five hundred pounds’ weight
of “lint,” or cotton-wool; for the seed, having a great
deal of oil in it, weighs heavy. A. negro, when cotton-
picking is at the best, will gather from four to five
hundred pounds of “ seed-cotton ” a day.

A cotton-gin (the machine is too intricate to describe)
will clean about three bales of “ lint ” (1,5001bs.), throw-
ing out on to the seed-heap about 4,500 lbs. of seed,
which can be crushed for its oil.

The lint has now to be pressed and packed in bales
for market. A very still day is chosen for this operation
as the ginned cotton is so light it worild be wasted in its
passage from the pick-room to the press.

Cotton planted early in April will have open boles
upon it in July : on some soils the bush grows seven feet

SOMETHING ABOUT PLANTATIONS. 45

high; on less favourable, it will not be more than four
or five. It is a sun plant; and, except a few showers
when very young, it requires but little rain—in fact,
when bearing, a rain does more harm than good, as it
causes the plant to shed its blooms, for the shower starts
the “ weed” into growing. ,

The “ cotton-worm” is the planter’s greatest dread.
Some brown-winged moths appear in the dusk of eve?
ing ; they flutter about the plantation, lay their eggs on
the leaves, and die. The hot sun hatches these eggs;
the young caterpillars begin to eat the cotton leaves,
grow up in a few days, spin a light web, and after a short
time appear as moths. The process is repeated, with
this difference—that where at first there were only a
score or two flitting about, there are now hundreds, and
when the eggs of these are again hatched, there are
thousands of caterpillars; and very soon, almost as if by
magic, the cotton-bushes are denuded of their leaves, and
the little withered brown particles of the stalks, falling

down upon the flossy cotton, make it “trashy.”
I About January, all the cotton worth picking is gathered,
and the old bushes are knocked down, or pulled up and
rolled together. They are then burnt, and the field is
ready to be ploughed for another crop.

Sugar-planting differs very much from the cultivation
A of cotton, as it does not require to be planted every year,
because the old stubble will produce good sugar for six

, OI1 seven years.

When sugar is planted, trenches are opened about
seven feet apart, and in these, canes are laid so as to

46 THE TEXAN RANGER.

overlap each other; at each joint in the cane there is an
“eye” from Which, when planted, a young shoot puts
out, and when this has become pretty strong, fresh
suckers grow.

In Texas the young cane often appears above ground
in January; and should the weather be wet and free
from frosty nights, its growth is rapid; for, unlike cotton,
sugar requires rain when growing . when ripening, too
much’rain makes the cane-juice watery, and theiefme
not so g.ood

The canes which grow from the planted stalks are
called plant canes, whilst those which shoot irom the old
stubble are termed 9 attoons.

The cane in Texas, when at its full height, completely
conceals a mounted man. The leaves are long and broad,
the stalks jointed, those near the ground being much
shorter than those towards the top. It becomes ripe
about October, and is then cut for the mill, the canes
being severed close to the ground, and the leaves and
upper joints, which are sappy and contain but little
saccharine matter, are cut off and left upon the field.

The sugar- h—ouse is an immense building, divided into
several compartments,——the engine- -house, the boiling-
house, the purgery, and cooling-house, besides sometimes
having the coopers’ shop under the same roof; though on
some plantations this latter 1s a separate building who1e
thi ee or four coopers and their assistants are employed
making the sugar-hogsheads and molasses-barrels.

The steam—engine drives the “rollers,” immense iron
cylinders, between which the canes are crushed. It also

46 THE TEXAN RANGER.

overlap each other ; at each joint in the cane there is an
“eye,” from which, when planted, a young shoot puts
out, and when this has become pretty strong, fresh
suckers grow.

In Texas the young cane often appears above ground
in January; and should the weather be wet and free
from frosty nights, its growth is rapid; for, unlike cotton,
sugar requires rain when growing: when ripening, too
much‘rain makes the cane-juice watery, and therefore
not so good.

The canes which grow from the planted stalks are
called plant canes, whilst those which shoot from the old
stubble are termed mttoons.

The cane in Texas, when at its full height, completely
conceals a mounted man. The leaves are long and broad,
the stalks jointed, those near the ground being much
shorter than those towards the top. It becomes ripe
about October, and is then cut for the mill, the canes
being severed close to the ground, and the leaves and
upper joints, which are sappy and contain but little
saccharine matter, are cut off and left upon the field.

The sugar-house is an immense building, divided into
several compartments,———the engine-house, the boiling-
honse, the purgery, and cooling-house, besides sometimes
having the coopers’ shop under the same roof ; though on
some plantations this latter is a separate building, where
three or four coopers and their assistants are employed
making the sugar—hogsheads and molasses-barrels.

The steam-engine drives the “rollers,” immense iron
cylinders, between which the canes are crushed. It also

SOMETHING ABOUT PLANTATIONS. 4/7

serves to convey, upon planks placed between two end—
less chains, the sugar-cane to the crushers or “ rollers.”
The juice eX-pressed from the cane is caught in the
“ receiver,” from which it is conveyed by troughs to the
clarifying tanks in the boiling-house, and in these the
juice is “ tempered” by lime. The amount of “temper-
ing” required depends upon various circumstances——
whether it has been a wet or dry season, the amount of
saccharine matter in the canes, and the quality of the
soil upon which it was grown.

In the boiling-house “the battery” consists of six
coppers, each diminishing in size to the last, which is
called “the battery kettle.” Beneath all these kettles a
fierce furnace is burning below, fed with long split pieces
of “ cord-wood” and the crushed, dry canes which have
passed through the rollers. The first or great COpper
receives the “ tempered ” juice from the tank, when, after
boiling a certain time, it is ladled into the next—for all
these coppers are set close together in a row—and then
into the next, until it reaches the “ battery kettle,” in
front of which stands a most important functionary, the
sugar-boiler, who judges the exact moment—by the way
in which the liquor runs off the ladle—when it has boiled
enough, and he then—for this is of great importance—
bales out the liquor into a gutter which conveys it into
the “ coolers” in the cooling‘house.

During the whole process of boiling, the scum, which
is constantly rising in the coppers, is carefully skimmed
off.

The sugar remains in the coolers till it granulates, and

48 THE TEXAN RANGER.

is then put into the hogsheads, which stand over a long
shallow tank in the “ purgery.”

The hogsheads, having several holes bored through
their bottoms, stand upon transverse beams over the
tank, which receives the molasses as it slowly drains from
the sugar; the hogsheads being filled up every day or
two, until all drainage of molasses ceases.

I would not wish any of my readers who have a weak-
ness for treacle, and desire to retain it, to look into a
molasses tank, as they might see “rats and mice, and
such small deer,” floating about dead in it, to say nothing
of cockroaches, crickets, &c., let alone the brawny, odor-
iferous feet of the unsliod negroes, who stand in it up to
their knees, as they dip it up to fill the barrels. Candy-
eaters, however, may console themselves with the old
proverbs, “What the eye does not see, the heart does
not grieve for,” and “ All that does not kill, fattens.”

In “grinding time,” which lasts about six weeks, all is
animation on the plantation. The “hands ” (able-bodied
negroes) shout and sing as the tall cane falls under the
sturdy blows of their cane-knives. The cane—carts rattle
along in quick succession between the field and the sugar-
house; the little negroes are chewing pieces of raw cane
all day long, or getting their hands daubed over with
molasses or sugar, and, sucking vehemently at them, wax
fat and greasy.

At the planter’s house, numerous visitors from neigha
bouring cotton plantations drop in to see how the sugar
harvest is progressing, and at last, when the cane has all
been ground, the sugar put away in the hogsheads, and

SOMETHING ABOUT PLANTATIONS. 4.9

the molasses barrelled up, the negroes have a frolic in the
empty-boiling-house; a negro ininstrel scrapes a fiddle,
and the rest eat, drink, dance, and “yah-yah ” to their
hearts’ content.

A sugar crop, if the season is good, pays far better than
any other; but in Texas it is, on account of the frequent
dry summers, rather an uncertain one, and in the long
run a cotton planter is almost certain to make a fortune
before a sugar—grower; but should two or three good
seasons come together, the latter will care but little for
the future, the profits on a single good crop being so
great.

For a tobacco crop, the land, after being thoroughly
turned over and cleaned, is ploughed with a turning
plough, so that the two furrows made by the plough in
its passage up and down the field, are thrown into a ridge,
and when the whole of the land has been thrown up into
ridges in one direction, the field is ploughed across at
right angles, so that the ridges are cut, and thrown up
into little hills. The first damp or wet day, then, that
occurs after this operation, is taken advantage of to set
out the plants, one to each hill, the little tobacco-plants
having been raised as thickly as they can stand upon a
bed, similar to the young cabbage-plants which farmers
“ draw,” and set out in their fields here, for winter
“keep.”

A few days after the plants have been set out, each
hill is inspected to see whether the plants have “' struck,”
and where this is not the case, the withered “ set ” IS
removed and another is planted in its place.

5O . THE TEXAN RANGER.

When the tobacco is about eighteen inches high, the
“hands” go over it and “ top ” it,—z'. 3. they pinch off
the central shoot, upon which, if allowed to mature, the
flowers and seed would be produced. Every two or
_ three mornings, after this last operation, the tobacco

‘ 3 has to be “wormed,” for a large green caterpillar is

very fond of it, and if not removed, it would in a very
short time,———a few hours, in fact,—eat out the best
pieces of the leaves, and make it nearly valueless for
market.

Some planters keep immense flocks of turkeys, which
are regularly driven through the fields every morning,
and they, being very fond of this worm, soon clean the
plants.

\Vhen ripe, the stalks are cut close to the ground,
and split from the bottom to nearly the top, and after
being allowed to “Wilt ” for an hour or two, they are
collected and carried to the “ shade-house,” and here the
half-divided stalks are thrown across polcs. After a
time the leaves are stripped from the stalks, and put
into “hands” of about twenty-five leaves to each
“ hand ;” these “hands ” are then “bulked,” when they
undergo a heat. This is a very critical time ; as should
they get too great a heat, they become rotten. When this
is over, the leaves are stemmed, packed into hogsheads,
pressed, and then they are ready for the market.

The maize or Indian corn crop is a very important
one to the planter. From this is made the bread for his
family and for his negroes, and with it he feeds his
horses and mules, fattens his hogs, poultry, &c.

SOMETHING AB OUT PLANTATIONS. 5].

The maize is sown in rows, three or four grains of
corn being planted about every twelve inches inthe row.
The rows are about eighteen inches apart. When the
young corn is about six or seven inches high, it is thinned
out to a “stand,” one plant, if it is a strong one, and
two if they are weak, being left only.

When the field is sown, the crows frequently visit it in
large flocks, and very often nearly strip it, and sometimes
it has been necessary to sow the entire field over again.

A wide-awake friend of mine, an extensive planter,
hit upon a capital expedient to save his seed-corn. .He
had a bushel or so soaked till it was soft ; and then, get=
tinga bunch of hair from some of his horses’ tails, he
set a lot of his negroes to work with pins. They made
a hole through each grain, and then passed through it a
long horsehair, knotting it at one end close to the corn,
leaving the long part, a foot in length perhaps, or more,
floating out.

The corn, thus prepared, was duly scattered about the
field, and the crows flocked to the feast.

No sooner had an unfortunate crow swallowed a grain
of the corn, than it felt a curious tickling in the throat,
and found an unaccountable something hanging from its
beak, which, with all its efforts, it could not get rid of.
On consulting with its neighbours, it found them in a
similar “ fix,” so they all came to the conclusion that
the field was bewitched; and till the memory of their
discomfiture died away, they abandoned the field, after
which the knowing planter sowed his crop in peace.

The corn often grows six or seven feet high, with one

 

"5 "v" "em. .

 

 

 

52 ' THE TEXAN RANGER.

or two, sometimes four ears to a stalk. Its growth is
rapid, and on a still summer’s night you can hear the
com grow—that is, you can hear a cracking noise all over
the field, as the swelling stalks cause the leafless sockets

to expand.

Almost always thirty, frequently forty, and sometimes

even sixty bushels per acre reward the planter for his la-
! bour. Soon after the corn has obtained some little height,

pumpkin-seed is sown about in it, and both ripen about
the same time. Very often, too, both water and musk
melons are planted in the corn-fields : the scent of the
latter, when ripe and ripening, can be detected at a long
distance.

The young corn, before it hardens, when grated on a
large coarse grater, makes capital bread and puddings,
and when fried in patties it can scarcely be distinguished
from fried oysters.

W'hen fully ripe and hard, it furnishes those many
dishes which an American delights in, and which puzzle
the travelling Briton—mush, hominy, corn-bread, hoe-
cake, ash-cake, &c., as well as a most abominable dish,
called lye-hominy. This last is made by soaking the
grains of corn in lye-water until the skin peels off. It
is then boiled, and, by some people, it is much relished.
This dish I shall hate for the rest of my life, for the fol-
lowing reason:—

I was one of a party travelling through Texas. One
night we came to a small inland town, and stopped at the
tavern, where the landlord gave us a capital supper——
venison steaks, slices from the breast of a wild turkey

SOMETHING ABOUT PLANTATIONS. 53

or two, grilled; broiled basse from the neighbouring
stream, with soft-shelled turtle cutlets; all these good
things being very welcome to us, after a very severe ride
of some nine or ten hours.

Bright and early, according to my custom, I was up
and dressed, and started to have a look at the straggling ,
village, and get an appetite for my breakfast, as I eX- E
pected there would be a repetition of the dainties we
had so much enjoyed at supper, and it was necessary we
should get a good meal, as we expected another long
ride. At a turn in the village street, I unfortunately
met (for my sins, I suppose) a person whose acquaint-
ance I had made long previous in Galveston. After our
greetings were exchanged, my acquaintance insisted that
I should go up to his place, and breakfast with him.

“ Come along, my boy,” he said ; “I’ve got a dish will
make your mouth water. I’ll give you something better
up at my place—‘ Hard Scrabble ’——that they can’t or
won’t take the trouble to prepare properly at the tavern.
l\Iy old cook’s a wonderful hand at it.”

I tried to excuse myself, but the old man would take
no denial; so, with many a regret for the good breakfast
whichI knew awaited me at the tavern, I reluctantly
followed my would-not-be-refused entertainer. Arrived
at Hard Scrabble, the wonderful dish turned out to be
lye-hominy, which, with some fried eggs and bacon, was
to serve for our breakfast. Pleading as an excuse that
my friends would start without me, if I did not , hurry
back to them, I left my hospitable host, and hastened to
the tavern. But I was too late. The breakfast things

 

 

541 ‘ THE TEXAN RANGER.

were cleared away, and my friends were either mounted,
or about to mount, and I had to put my best fingers
first, to saddle up and accompany them. I shall never
cease to dislike lye-hominy.

Two or three varieties of yams, or sweet potatoes, are
grown. They generally yield an immense crop, eSpecially
when planted on a sandy soil.

I purposely omitted, at the beginning of this chapter, a
description of the planters’ houses, and the negroes’
cabins, thinking it better to describe the buildings when
I came to speak of their occupants.

Of course the planters’ houses differ very much, ac-
cording to the taste and wealth of their owners. Some
are built of bricks, others are “frame-houses” (houses
built with planks), and some are only log cabins: but
nearly all have a verandah around them, under which
the planter smokes his cigar, whilst his wife sews and
the children playr or sleep, swinging in the grass ham-
mocks during the heat of the day. Close at hand is the
kitchen, a detached building from the house, where the
cooking is carried on; for, during the hot months, a fire
and the smell of cooking would be unbearable in the
dwelling-house; and near to the kitchen is usually
another building—the “smoke-house,” in which provisions
of all kinds are stored, for the use of the planter and
the negroes.

At about a quarter of a mile from the house, the cabins
of the negroes are usually placed, and when the planter
is wealthy and has a great number of “hands,” the
“ negro-quarters” has quite the appearance of a little

SOMETHLNG ABOUT rtmmrwms. 55

village, the cabins being built in two rows facing each
other across the little street. The cabins are detached
from one another, and if owned by a thrifty negro, there
is generally behind each one a little hen-house, con-
structed of bamboo canes, for almost all negroes keep
poultry, which, feeding on the planter’s corn, are kept at
no expense to the slaves.

With the money obtained by the sale of their chickens
and eggs, the negroes are enabled on Sundays and
holidays, especially at Christmas, to “cut it exceedingly
fat,”——the males in the shiniest chimney-pot hats, and
the hottest and blackest broadcloth coats and trousers,
whilst the sable Venuses and Dinahs swell out with the
most extensive crinolines to be had for love or money.
Even when too poor to buy real steel or whalebone, I
have seen the field-hand women with hoops on, made
from wild grape-vines cut in the woods, for fashion is
quite as imperious in the far-01f wild backwoods, as in
Paris or London.

As these negroes are all slaves, they are supposed, by
English people who have never travelled among them, to
be the most unhappy wretches under the sun; but this
is not the case, and it would be difficult to find labourers
in any country who are better fed or cared-for than are
these slaves.

During the fifteen years I was in this State, I never
saw or heard of a slave being hungry—the fact is, they
are too valuable to their masters to be allowed to want.

From the cradle to the grave, they are a well-fed,
greasy, happy people, When young, they are taken

W-.._.,.- fl.

56 THE TEXAN RANGER.

care of, in the hope that they may grow up to be useful
labourers to their employer; when too old for work, they
are cared-for in requital of their past services.

On nearly all the plantations, any slave who chooses
can have apiece of land for his own use, to cultivate at
odd hours; and many planters, except when harvesting
their crops, give their negroes a part, and in some cases
the Whole, of Saturday to themselves. That the negroes

' are not over-worked, is soon made manifest to any one

staying upon a plantation ; for, when work is over, which
ceases at sun-down, the scraping of an old fiddle, or
twanging “ on the old banjo,” can be heard down in the
“nigger quarters,” as well as the patter of many feet, as
the negroes “ toe and heel” it, or shuflle their feet about
in all directions as they “set to their partners,” the
“lubliest ob de lubly,” if not the “fairest of the fair,”
whilst those tiniest of natural lamps, the fire-flies, flit
around them.

The days, summer and winter, are not nearly so un-
equal as with us in this northern latitude. There, the
difference between the longest and shortest day is not
much more than two hours ; so that with the rests for
breakfast and dinner, the hours of labour will not average
more than about nine or ten.

Almost all the negroes own three or four dogs, :Which
they feed from their own superabundance. With these,
when the maize is ripening, they often have exciting
chases after the racoons and ’possums, Which come to
the corn-fields to steal the ears.

Armed with an, axe, and followed by their curs, the

SOMETHING ABOUT PLANTATIONS. 57 ’

negroes start round the headlands of the corn-field, and
wherever a ’coon has passed in, the dogs quickly dis-
cover; and, rushing off into the corn, they soon start
the ’coon, and generally after a short run compel him to
“ tree.” This the hunters fell at once, when down comes '
the “ varmint,” Which is soon killed by the dogs, though
the ’coon often makes a stout fight for his life. The '
next night a hot baked racoon graces the table of the
“ Blaster of the Hounds.”

Very often they get some white man or boy to ac-
company them with a gun, to shoot the ’coon out of the
tree, as it saves time ; and thus frequently they succeed
in killing half-a-dozen animals in a couple of hours’
hunt. On one occasion of this kind I killed two full-
grown racoons at one shot: andl have known as many
as four ’coons to be “treed” all at once on the same
tree. The young white lads on a plantation are very
fond of these night hunts, and even old bear-hunters
can seldom resist the cheery cry of the dogs, but tumble
out of their beds, pull on their boots and “ continua-
tions,” and snatching up a gun, they rush to the scene
of action, as eagerly as though they were only boys
again.

The racoons and opossums are not the only animals
that try to forestall the planter in gathering his corn
crop. Hundreds of squirrels, both the little grey or cat
squirrel, and the larger fox squirrels, try to snatch their
share before the harvest ; and when the “mast ” fails in
the woods, the black bears, too, visit the fields When this
is the case, it becomes of serious importance to the plan-

58 THE TEXAN RANGER.

ter, as the bears not only consume a great number of
the ears, but they pull down a greater number of the
stalks, leaving the corn upon them to rot on the ground.

I have assisted at many a bear-hunt, to rid the fields
of these midnight robbers, but I shall defer a description
of them to a future chapter, when I hope to tell you of
three or four bear chases in which I bore a part. En
passmzt, I shall only say that the hunters must be afoot
by daylight, or before it, ere the dew has evaporated, so
that the hounds can get their scent at the spots where
the bears have either entered or left the field.

Guns are sometimes set for them. Old muskets, the
barrel half filled with slugs, are set in the paths they are
known to frequent. A- string attached to the trigger,
runs round a peg firmly fastened in the ground behind
the butt of the gun, and is then brought forward and put
across two other pegs, set on either side of the path, so
that the bear in his passage is compelled to press against
the spring. This pulls the trigger, the gun explodes, and
the bear is killed.

Let us, however, say how good he is for the table.
The paws and liver are the choice parts, though the hams
and ribs are capital ,—in fact, a sort of cross between
beef and pork, there is no better food than bear—meat.

To sum up, plantation life is very different from the

- jog-trot sameness of an English farm. Plenty of game
smokes upon the planter’s table; the'negroes are well
fed and clothed, and attended in sickness, in infancy, and
in old age, with care and kindness; the horses, mules,
and horned cattle are sleek and fat; the constant chases

PROFITS or FARMING. 59

' safter various animals keep the dogs alert and in good
2 condition, whilst their jovial haying sends the blood
Ll boiling through every vein in their white or black
1 master’s body, as he hastens to aid them. No game-laws
{ prevent the negro from setting his pens for wild turkeys
> or quail in the woods; and thus, as far as living goes,
L Jack is as good as his master.
Nowhere, the wide world over, is more generous hospi-
' tality practised than by the Southern planters. To the
stranger, or the merest acquaintance, their houses are
open, and if need be, that severest of all tests, especially
in England—their pockets. Neither the traveller, nor
his horse, nor his dog, if he has one, ever departs from
their doors empty away.

 

CHAPTER IV.
lrnorr'rs or FARMING.

SLAVE-LABOUR, except where land is very cheap, is the
dearest labour that can be employed, not only because
the owner of the slave has from two to three hundred
pounds, and often more money, invested and locked up
in his labourer, but because he is liable at any moment
to lose him by illness or accident. This insures to the
slave kind treatment, if no other consideration induced
the planter to care for him. I must state here that the
different estimates of plantation produce refer only to the

60 THE TEXAN RANGER.

time when I was in the country, before the recent civil
war had made such great changes in the prices of every-
thing.

The price of a farm of four hundred acres would,
at the rate of 5s. per acre, be £100. This would require
twenty negroes to cultivate it, and, averaging these at £200
each, they would cost £4,000. The mules to work this
ought not to be less in number than thirty, each worth
about £12 (horses being cheaper than mules, but less
fitted for negroes to handle, as the mules are tougher,
and care little or nothing about what their negro drivers
may say or do); these would cost £860. Farm imple-
ments, corn-cribs, cotton-gin, negro cabins, and owner’s
house, cisterns, &c., would not cost less than £400 more,
the whole coming to, we will say roughly, £5,000.

N ow let us see the. profits upon this investment.

Two hundred acres planted in cotton, each producing
a bale worth £10, would be worth £2,000. Two hundred
sown with corn, sweet potatoes, and other things, would,
at £8 per acre, be worth £1,600. Perhaps it will be
plainer if stated thus :—

400 acres cost . . . . £100
20 negroes ,, . . . . 4,000
30 mules ,, . . . . 860

Sundries ,, . . . a 540

 

Whole cost of plantation . . £5,000

 

200 acres planted with cotton will be worth £2,000
200 various crops . . . . . 1,000

 

£3,600

raorrrs or FARMING. 61

580 that, deducting ten per cent. for interest upon the
coriginal outlay, and another ten per cent. for losses, a
g plantation can be (or rather could be) bought and paid
Efor in less than three years.

Many a sugar plantation, on the l‘dississippi, has been
C bought and paid for in one year, and by one cr0p, for in
ggood years an acre of sugar-cane will bring just twice as;
cmuch money as an acre of cotton, though, as I stated in
:my last chapter, sugar is a more uncertain crop than the
: other, as it requires more rain. The outlay for land, for
inegroes, &c., would be about the same as for a cotton
] plantation, though the sugar-house, with engine, batteries
:of kettles, and other necessaries, would cost very much
‘2 more than the simple gin-house, pick-room, &c., on a
I; cotton plantation.

None of the equine species are natives of the New
lVorld. Before the discovery of Columbus, the horse
FWflS unknown, from the “Land of Fire ” to frozen La-
‘lbrador, and the wild herds which now range over the
inorthern prairies and pampas of the south, are descends»
3 ants of those animals which were carried over by Cortez
s and his companions, who took with them their steeds, to
a assist in the conquest of the native Americans.

In Mexico, some of the Rancheros count their horses
l by thousands, and it is upon record that, upon one occa-
E sion, a rich widow lady in Mexico mounted her son’s
r regiment upon six hundred white horses. It was the
:7 custom with the more wealthy Mexicans, when Spain had
1 possession of Mexico, to send their children to Spain
1' for their education, and very often some of the sons

62 THE TEXAN RANGER.

entered the Spanish service—either the navy or the
army. .

This lady, to whom I have referred, sent her sbn to
Spain, and he, joining the army, in time became colonel
of his regiment. When his corps was ordered to Mexico,
they, according to custom, were sent out “ dismounted,”
as our cavalry regiments are sent to India, because they
could be remounted more cheaply in the country to which
they were sent, than by sending their horses with them.
As soon as the colonel’s mother was apprized that her
son was ordered to his native country, she had, waiting
at Vera Cruz, for him and all his men, a remount of pure
white horses, as a present, too, to the Spanish Govern-

’ ment.

In Texas a man very seldom owns more than three or
four hundred head,—horned cattle being more remunera-
tive,—although at the time I left the State many were
turning their attention to horse-breeding, and were
introducing some European horses to increase the size
of their mustangs ; for, until latterly, horses were of very
little value, as they were so easily captured from the wild
herds.

There are no better horsemen in the world than the
prairie Indian tribes, the Mexicans, and the Gruachos of
the southern pampas. Constantly on horseback from
infancy, they are more at home on their steeds than on
their feet, and the lasso, a looped cord of some forty or
fifty feet in length, serves them to obtain a remount from
the mustangs on the prairies, whenever they need one.

Not one of them has ever heard of Mr. Rarey, or his

 

 

 

\

PROFITS OF FARMING. 63

, 3 method of horse-taming, and they would have but a poor

3

J
i

J

i n
3

opinion of him or any one else who would take a couple
of hours, aided with straps and buckles, to “gentle” a
horse, when they can and do, not only catch, but mount
the moment he is caught, and take all the “ steel” out of
any horse in forty minutes.

The introduction of the horse has been of great assist-

: ance to the American Indian, not only for the purposes

3

h
/

of war, but for those of the chase; for, mounted, he is
enabled to run alongside the bison, instead of, as he was

2 compelled to do formerly, crawling and taking every

; advantage of the inequalities of the ground, to approach
‘ the animal upon which be mainly depends for food,

clothing, and lodging.
The owners of horses have to brand them plainly upon

' the left, or near haunch, as all horses, cattle, hogs, &C.,

3

over a year old, if unmarked, are liable to be caught or

. killed by any one who may find them; because, being

unmarked, they are supposed to be unowned.
Cattle are much more easily managed than horses, and

,0 are calculated to pay thirty-three and a third per cent.

interest. When I first went to Texas, a stock of cattle

v could be bought for three dollars (12 shillings) a head,—

stock cattle consisting of cows, calves, one, two, and

three year old beeves ; and the stock, even allowing for

losses, was supposed to double itself every three years.
In the year 1824, a man named Taylor White, started

, with three cows and calves as his stock; he died in 1854,

leaving to his children a league and labour (4,440 acres)
of land, 17,000 head of cattle, 300 horses and 20 negroes,

J

Get THE TEXAN Banana;

besides having in cash a sum of £15,000. Living close
to him for some time, I know the facts I have stated to
be true. Envious neighbours accused him of having
stolen the three cows and calves to commence with, but
as to that, I should think they were too cheap to have
made this necessary, and that his less successful and
persevering neighbours said this spitefully and without
cause.

The wild cattle, as I have mentioned in a. previous
chapter, entice away many of the “ gentle ” cattle, and
on this account they are always killed, when possible.

Many more of the settlers’ hogs go wild in the woods,
than of either the horses or cattle, and to keep up even
a moderate stock, it is necessary to throw them every
night a few ears of Indian corn, as there are in the
forest so many different roots of which they are fond, so
many different kinds of fruit, acorns, and nuts, that if
not constantly attended to and rewarded for staying
around the plantation, they soon wander oil", and, gradu-
ally getting farther and farther away, they never return.

Hogs killed in the woods are sometimes quite uneat-
able, from their having lately fed upon carrion, and
on this account I have sometimes, after killing one in
the woods, been glad to get away from it as 'fast as
I could.

I took an early distaste to pork in less than a fortnight
after my arrival in the country. I landed at Galveston
on the 14th of November, and that evening I inquired
what sport, and what- kind of game I might expect to
find upon the island. I was told that on all the ponds

PROFITS or FARMING. 65

I should find plenty of ducks, teal, &c., and that about
fifteen miles below the city there were still a few deer to
be found.

The following morning I took out my gun for the first
time in America, and, although rather afraid of the
snakes, of which at that time I had a great dread, though
I have since learnt how groundless it was, I sallied down
the island, and had such sport as I never dreamed of,
killing, in less than a couple of hours’ shooting, more
ducks than I could carry. On my return to the city of
Galveston, I was told that I ought to buy an old horse
to pack my game upon; accordingly, I invested sixteen
shillings in one, and as my ducks brought me in about
ten pence a piece, I paid for my horse in less than one
day’s shooting.

After using my steed for about a fortnight, I went out
one morning to look for, and catch him, on the prairie,
carrying my gun on my shoulder as I went, and when I
came to the little nook where he usually fed, I saw,
instead of my horse grazing as usual, a brown object on
the ground, about half a mile off, with two black specks
sitting upon it. In a moment I felt, I knew, that it was
my Arab steed, and that he had paid the only debt he
owedwnature’s. To make sure I walked towards it, and
found my fears too true, and the black specks I soon dis-
covered to be vultures ; they flew off when I got quite
close, but lit again not twenty yards ofi". As I stood
looking at the defunct, I fancied there was a motion,
a quivering of the nerves, and a slight noise. I thought

perhaps my horse was only just dying, so I put my
5

66 THE TEXAN RANGER.

hand upon him to feel how warm he was, when lol at
my touch the slight noise and motion became a grand
disturbance, and out of the body of my gallant steed
rushed an animal, covered with blood. New to the
country, its animals, &c., I jumped back, throwing my
gun to my shoulder as I did so, and covering the suspi-
cious blood-stained beast; but just as my finger was about
to press the trigger, I discovered that it was a small pig,
whose banquet I had disturbed. Sausages and pork
thenceforth I never touched.

The hogs which escape to the woods, no doubt, live a
free and happy life, but if they escape the knife of their
owners in the autumn, or “ fall,” as that quarter of the
year is. named in America, they only exchange one (lane
ger for another. Bears, panthers, leopard-cats, lynxes,
wolves, &c., prey upon them constantly, and many an
evening, returning from hunting through the forest, when
it has been too late for me to go and see what was the
matter, I have heard the squeal of an unlucky pig in the
clutches of some beast of prey. These vagabond, run-
away pigs are thus deprived of the assistance of their
owners, in time of trouble, for late or early, even at
midnight, whenever a squeal is heard from a respectable
stay-at-home pig, either the planter or the overseer, or
both, sally out to their assistance, with all the dogs they
can muster, and if they do not save, at any rate they
avenge them.

I shall conclude this chapter with two bear-hunts, the
first in as nearly the same words which the relator used,
as my notes and memory will permit me to record it.

 

 

rnorrrs or FARMING. , 67

The last in my oWn, as it happened to myself. I stopped
to bait my horse at a little way-side grocery, on the
Trinity river, and upon my entering the bar-room, after
seeing my horse fed, I heard the following conversation.
“A right, smart snarl, and no mistake, you had of it,
Ben.” This was said by a tall, leather-clad hunter, as
he leaned on one of his elbows on the bar counter.
“Fair, and I wouldn’t have been in Ben’s fix for a
sackful of goold,” said a little red-headed Irishman, as
he held a lighted coal to his pipe; of course, cut Ca-

vendish.
“Let’s all of us have another smile of ‘tangle legs,’
and I’ll stand Sam,” said a planter. “ Come up, Ben——

a drop of ‘ red eye ’ won’t hurt you, after the blood-let-
ting you have had; come up, gentlemen all, and after
we’ve drank, perhaps Ben will tell us all about it again—-
eh, Ben ?”

Ben Hughes, the object of these remarks, was a noted
hunter, a man of middle height, but with immense
shoulders, and a neck like a bull, giving token of his
great bodily powers. These had evidently been severely
tested not long since, for his fringed jean hunting-dress
was torn to ribbons and stained with blood, whilst his
pale face showed that most of those stains had been
furnished by his own veins.

He had been perfectly silent during the foregoing
remarks, not even raising his eyes from looking into the
fire, in front of which he was sitting in an arm-chair,
though he had evidently listened with some satisfaction
to their comments; for he was smiling as the planter

68 {run TEXAN RANGER.

touched him on the shoulder to call his attention to his
special invitation to drink. To the rest of the company,
the treat was a general one, whilst to Ben it was given
in honour of his prowess, that morning displayed. Ac-
cordingly he walked across to the corniter, filled his glass,
nodded to the rest, and tossing off his liquor, he resumed
his seat in his chair by the fire, followed by the company.

When they had all quietly taken their seats, he pro-
duced half a plug of tobacco, and haying cut oil? a quid
about the size of a moderate fig, he inserted it in his
cheek, looked gravely round at his audience, then at the
fire 3 and having selected a glowing ember, he took
deliberate aim, spat, and hit his target full in the centre,
smiled, and said meditatively, “I all’us was reckoned
some punkins on bar, and arter this I shall begin to be-
lieve folks ain’t so far out as oncet I did, when they say
I’m a bar himter.

“I expect it wanted two full hours of sun-up this
morning when I started to go up the cedar brake. One
of Guillemont’s niggers had been getting me out some
cedar rails, and I thought I’d go up and count ’em,
and as the brake’s a grea place for turkeys, leastways
the peach ridge is, close agin it, I thought maybe as I
mout get hold on a gobbler or two, for they’ve begun to
gobble right smart of mornings now; so as it’s a pretty
considerable of a step from my place to whar the nigger
had been at work, I took a right peart start.

“ Two of my dogs sneaked arter me, and it being dark
I never noticed ’em, else ef I’d a known it, I should have
druv ’em back. Anyways they followed unbeknownst

rnorrrs or FARMING. 69

to me, and ef they got me into this morning’s trouble,
they got me out, for I guess I should have fared but
middling, ef it hadn’t a been for Tiger and Blaze.

“IVhen I got to the peach ridge the turkeys was a
gobbling to rights, up in the trees, so I got under the
trees they were perched on, but as it was not cleverly
daylight, I had to hold on till I could see to shoot. As
soon as I could see through the sights of my rifle, I let
fly at a gobbler, and fotched him, and made out to get
there before they flew down; and then I might have called
another or two up and killed ’em, only for Tiger and
Blaze as had followed, as I said unbehnownst to me, be-
cause whenever they heerd the shooting, there was no
keeping them quiet. So after a bit I gathered all my
birds and hung them upon a tree, till such time as I had
done counting up the rails in the cedar brake, and as
soon as I had done totalling them up, I started for
home.

“Just as I come out at the upper end of the brake, anal
had reckoned up the piles as they lay, I found the ‘ sign‘
of the biggest, lordliest bar, I a’most ever see, and my
two dogs went ofi’ on it in full cry, it wur so fresh, and
I set out arter them as hard as I could leg it. I kept-
up as well as I could, and luckily didn’t have to run no
great ways, for I soon heard ’em haying, and thought
they’d ‘treed’ the bar, and yet somehow I felt some
misgiving when I recollected what great big tracks he
had made. So I pushed on as hard as I could, and found
them baying at the mouth of a great limestone cave
up whar those great blufi‘s are, at the bend of the river.

 

’70 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Wall, for a minute I was kinder nonplussed, for ef he’d
taken a tree, I should have just raised my old rifle and
made meat of him in no time; but now when he had
caved, I didn’t cleverly well know what to do ; anyway,
I hied the dogs on, and they both bolted into the cave,
whilst I held my rifle cooked, and ready for whatever
mout happen.

I“ For a half a minute there was a mighty muss in the
cave, and it war mightily mixed up, growling and bark-
ing together, and then all of a suddint out they came,
quite flustered like, followed by the bar. I sighted as quick
as lightning, and pulled the trigger, but she kept right
on at me, and I warn’t more than a matter of five steps
from the mouth of the cave when she came out; so I
dropped my rifle to draw my bowie, and just as I tried
to step back a pace or two, to give me room like, a little,
no account of a log tripped me up, and sent me over on
my back just as the bar got up to me, and thar we had
it nip and tuck, rough and tumble on the ground.

“Luckily, I had broke her lower jaw with my shot, so
all these wounds you see were made by her claws, and I
did not lose any time, you may depend, in working my
bowie ; but she’d sort of got my right arm fixed with her
paw, so as I couldn’t drive my blows home so deep as I’d
have liked. Presently my dogs rallied, and began a nip—
ping of her behind (for all the scrabble didn’t last two
minutes), and as those took her attention, I made out
to drive one or two blows home before she got into her
cave.

“ I was covered with blood from head to foot, for she’d

mourns or FARMING. 71

used her hind legs like a dancin’ master, besides these
slashes on the breast and shoulders with her fore-paws,
and my dander was considerable riz, and I felt as ugly
as a meat axe, and so I says you shall rub me out, or I
will you, or my name ain’t Ben Hughes. So I loaded
my rifle, and I fixed some pine splinters for a torch, and
then I followed her in. For a little the opening was so
thatI could go without stooping much, but about five
paces in, it began to get lower suddenly, so that Ihad to
a’most creep ; then it as suddenly rose again, and I found
myself in quite a large place.

“I hadn’t no more need for myrifie, the bar was a
grunting her last, for my bowie had reached her Vitals,
and she was bleeding to death. No wonder she fought
so hard, for she’d got three quite young cubs, and I ex-
pect they’ll bring them home alive with the old she.

“ Arter I got out of the cave, I expect I fainted for
the first time in my life, for I’d lost a power of blood ;
but as soon as I came to, I got up as far as the rails, and
- there, by good luck, were some of Guillemont’s niggers,
and so I got down here, as you see.”

Just then there was a shout outside the “ grocery,”
and on our going out to see what was the matter, it
turned out to be the cart with the carcase of one of the
largest she-bears ever seen on the Trinity river, and her
three little black cubs, which came contentedly enough,
nestling against the fur of their dead mother.

The meat did not prove to be of much value, as the
bear was suckling; neither was the skin, as it was not
only very much hacked about by Ben’s knife, but at that

72 THE TEXAN RANGER.

season the fur is never thick. The cubs were carried
soon afterwards to Galveston, and in process of time
bought by the captain of a vessel trading to that port,
who carried them off to New York or Europe, where
they may possibly be at this moment in some of the
menageries.

Before I proceed to relate my own adventure with a
bear, I may as well give some little idea of American
hunting or shooting, showing how very much it differs
from like, pursuits in England. In England, if rich, you
have your keepers, beaters, and well-broken dogs ; if in
moderate circumstances, you at least have some tolerable
pointers, or setters, or spaniels to aid you. You shoot
in small fields, fenced in with rails or hedge-rows; and
should you get wood-shooting, you get it in “little ten
acre patches.”

The keepers, the villagers, and you yourself, after a
day or two’s shooting, know almost to ahead what game
there is upon your beat: shooting upon the Thursday,
you recognize the old French cock that got away upon the
previous Monday, when beating the same bit of turnips;

and you identify the old hare you roll over in the inangel, r

as the very one Don ran up, when last you looked at it.

The birds get up, the hares run away, and, crossing
the fence, you are at once on Master Grubbin’s land, and
having the trespass law in remembrance, as well as the
acquaintance of some of the muddle-headed Dogberrys
who grace the magistrates’ bench, you do not follow
them, and your Sport for the day is over.

Across the Atlantic, there is no law of trespass; the

PROFITS OF FARMING. 73

broad prairies and the great forests you may range at
will, the deep rivers you may fish in when and where you
please, and shoot or fish as yOu like, no one will say you
nay. But this very latitude makes the shooting more
difficult than it is here ; for there, with the world before
you where to choose, you feel, till accustomed to it, lost.
There, hunting, as they call it, or shooting as we should
more correctly say, is pursued usually without the aid of
dogs, and to become a successful hunter is not the work
of a day.

The aspirant to a hunter’s reputation must be perse-
vering, not afraid to question older and more experienced
men, but he must have natural gifts besides—a quick
eye, swift foot, steady hand, and a love and taste for the
chase. He must study the habits of the beasts and
birds he pursues, learn their range, their hours of feed-
ing, and whether, and in what manner, the weather or
other natural causes influence them.

The practised hunter reads the forest signs as readily
as you do your books, and from a track he will tell you
the size of the animal, the pace at which it was going, and
often even the sex. When a leaf has been turned over
. and misplaced by the passage of some beast, or by the
v wind, he will know which caused it; where old English
stubble-brushers would see nothing to examine.

I state this, because many people who have read
Cooper’s novels, and pictures of adventures in the
American wilderness by other hands, often fancy how
jolly it must be to plunge, gun in hand, into the forests,
and live the wildlife of the trappers and Indians; but

744 THE TEXAN RANGER.

were they to try it, they would find that, although with
abundance of game around them, they would probably
starve, from not knowing how to secure it. I was at-
tracted to America by the love of sport and adventure;
but that was not the only object I had in View, though in
course of time I gradually gave up other pursuits, for
the life of a hunter; but when I did so, I had fora long
time lived in the wilderness and in constant practice. Had
I attempted to rely for support on my gun, when I first
landed, I have no doubt I should have starved, although
I had taken out several licenses to kill game in England,
before I emigrated.

Should any intending emigrants read these lines, I
would advise them to learn a little carpentering, a little
of the blacksmith’s trade, engineering, &c., so that they
will be able to turn their hands to anything—in fact, to
have more than one string to their bow. But once
arrived in the land of their adoption, let them follow
steadily whatever they undertake, not rushing from one
pursuit to another, until they are fully convinced that
what they are doing will not pay.

“ You won’t get your horse to-night, Captain, any way
you can fix it. My sons are going to have a bar-hunt in
the morning, and it stands to reason you must go along.”
It was no use trying to get away from Mr. Spruce, a
planter, who had addressed me thus, and with whom I
had been smoking a cigar one hot September afternoon,
so I made a virtue of necessity, and let him order my
horse back to the coral. Soon after Mr. Spruce’s two
sons, Dick and Jack, came in, and after shaking hands

PROFITS or FARMING. ' '75

with me, they told their father, with great glee, that they
had persuaded Mr. Nixon to join in the bear hunt the
following morning.

Mr. Nixon was Mr. Spruce’s overseer, and had been
with him for about six weeks ; he had come from the
neighbouring state of Louisiana, and having good testi-
monials as to character and ability, he had been engaged
by Mr. Spruce. Mr. Nixon was a tall, grave man, never
seen to laugh, who, by dint of a certain slow and oracular
manner of speaking, had impressed his employer and his
sons with a profound belief in his wisdom and cleverness ;
and I believe had either of them been asked the question,
they would have answered Without hesitation, that Mr.
Nixon could square the circle or reach the North Pole,
or do anything on earth where ability or prowess could
succeed.

When the young Spruces had been firing at a target
with their rifles, Mr. Nixon had similed superciliously at
their practice, and had dropped dark hints as to his own
skill, though he could never be persuaded to exhibit it.
Now, however, that he had consented to display his
woodcraft, the old man and his boys were delighted.

At the supper table I was introduced to this Admirable
Crichton, and must confess I took a dislike to him at once,
but on what grounds I could not tell. The man was civil
enough when he did speak, which was not often ; but he
looked so wise and consequential that I set him down in
my own mind as “a pretty considerable humbug.”

“ VIr. Nixon will kill the bear if he gets a shot, I’ll bet,”
said the old man.

76 THE TEXAN RANGER.

“I expect Mr. N iron can beat us at shooting, father,”
replied Dick.

“ He’s had so much practice,” chimed in Jack.

All these remarks hIr. Nixon received as a matter of

' right, looking all the time as though it was no use any

one’s attemptinglto rival him.

As soon as it was daylight the following morning, we
started a hear from the corn field, but the canebrakc
to which he betool: himself was very thick and matted,
and the bear dogs could not force their way through so
easily as the bear, whose great weight enabled him to
burst through the canes, which, springing back in his
rear, delayed the hounds, so that it was fully three-
quarters of an hour before any one got a shot, though we
were all scattered about in the little cattle trails and
open spots Wherever we thought we stood the best chance
to see Bruin. hlr. N ixon got the first shot, and in
answer to old Spruce, said, “the bear can’t go ten steps,
I plugged him right through his heart 5 I all’us shoots
whar I holds.”

This was a longer speech than usual, As soon as Mr.
Nixon had loaded, we went up to the spot where he
stated the hear was when he fired, and sure enough
there was a tiny drop of’blood, and a yard or two farther
on, another, but no bear, and soon the hounds coming up
carried the cry away off deep into the canebrake.

At last the bear took to some very young cane, trying
to cross it and gain an immense canebrake beyond, and
here, before he could reach the cover he was making for,
the hounds brought him to bay. Mr. N ixon’s long legs

HOW SUGAR IS MADE. 77

brought him to the scene of action about ten steps in
advance of the rest of us, when he again'fired at the
bear, but missed him clean. The bear then made a
charge at his new assailant. Unluckily for Mr. Nixon,
his foot caught a stump or something, and tripped him
up as he tried to avoid the bear’s attack; but the:
infuriated animal instantly removed a portion of the '
overseer’s trousers, and a small piece of his flesh as ‘
well, just as a bullet from Dick’s rifle crashed through
Bruin’s brain.

Searching to see where Mr. Nixon’s first shot had taken
effect, we found it had just cut the tip of the bear’s tail,
causing it to lose about three drops of blood.

The overseer never boasted of his shooting again, but
he was so chafi’ed about “all’us hitting where he held
his gun,” and taunted by being asked “who shot the bear
in the tail,” that he soon left, and removed to some other
place, where, no doubt, his pompous dignified ways im-
posed upon others till they found him out.

CHAPTER V.
HOW SUGAR IS MADE.

ONE of the necessaries of the present day, sugar, was
unknown to the ancient world, and even in the middle
ages it was a luxury seldom indulged in by the wealthiest
classes. It is strange, too, that there is no mention of it

7 8 THE TEXAN RANGER.

made in Scripture, although the country where the events
of sacred history occurred is a very favourable one for
- the production of the sugar-cane.

Sugar is said to have been made uSe of in China, cen-
turies before it found its way to India and Arabia, and
from these countries to the European world]

From the East, amongst other costly drugs and spices,
it was carried to Greece under the name of “Indian
salt.” Pliny has made mention of confections which
reached Rome from Arabia, but at so costly a price, that
they were only within reach of the wealthiest nobles.
The merchants of Persia, Egypt, Phoenicia, and Greece,
who traded to India, first brought the vague report that
sugar was the sap of a reed; but even they can hardly
be supposed to have understood how it was prepared, and
many were the fanciful theories invented as to the true
origin of sugar. Some thought that it was a kind of
honey, which formed itself without the assistance of bees ,-
others considered it a shower from heaven, which fell
upon the leaves of the heaven-blessed reed ; while others
again imagined that it was the concentration of the
sap of some peculiar plant, formed in the manner of
gum. -

It is supposed that the Saracens, who, in the ninth
century, overran a portion of Southern Ein'ope, intro-
duced the culture of the cane into Sicily. By the Cru—
saders it was made known to the European world, as, in
their journeys to and from Palestine, they must have
become acquainted with its use. Spain received it from
the Moors, and they naturally either transplanted the

HOW sueAR Is MADE. 79

cane~to their newly-discovered West Indian Isles, or,
' finding the plant there, turned it to account.

It first became thoroughly known to the European
world about the middle of the thirteenth century, through
a noble Venetian merchant, who, about the year 1250,
visited Bengal, and acquainted himself with the cultiva-
tion of the plant and the manufacture of the sugar. The
world is indebted to Venice, at a very early period, for
the art of refining sugar, and making it into loaves.

The discovery of the West Indies and a new continent
by Columbus, produced quite a revolution in the impulse
it gave to commerce ; and within a quarter of a century
of its discovery, St. Domingo became famed for the
abundance of its sugar, and scarcely a century elapsed
before Spain, Portugal, France, and England had their
plantations amongst the various islands of the New
~World, and these have gradually increased so as to be
able to supply the immense demands of the present
day.

By botanists sugar-cane is classed amongst the grasses, .
but to those unacquainted with it this can give them no
true idea of the plant. At a distance, it has some re—
semblance to the maize plant or Indian corn, but when
examined nearer, it is found to be very different.

The stem, in every species of cane, is round and
hard, and is divided into joints, at short and irregular in-
tervals. A volume might be written upon the beautiful
economy of nature in the development of this valuable
plant; for from the time it shoots up its three grassy
blades from the ground, until it waves over the fields

80 THE TEXAN RANGER.

like a mighty wand of peace and plenty, there are
chemical processes going on in its cells, and strange
phenomena taking place within its body, that show, in
a wonderful manner, the power and goodness of Provi-
dence in providing for the wants of man.

As the cane rises from the soil, the bud or germ breaks
loose from its tightly-enveloping leaves, and joint after
joint comes to perfection, until the growth of the plant
is accomplished. The first joint requires from four to
five months to ripen it, and when this ripening is per-
fected, the leaves that enclose it wither away: then the
next joint above gradually matures, and again the binding
leaves of that particular joint loosen their hold, and
stretch their long arms dead and rattling to the winds.
So goes on the work until the time comes when the har-
vest must be gathered in.

In Cuba and the rest of the West India islands, there
are cane-fields that have stood for more than half a cen-
tury, the young cane plants sprouting from the old
stubble; but in America, where slight frosts sometimes
occur in the sugar regions before the crop can he gathered
in, and Where the crop has frequently to be harvested
and manufactured into sugar in ninety days, and where
the planter has to devote a fifth of his crop for “seed
cane,” to replant his older and more exhausted stubble,
it will be easily understood what great advantages tro-
pical planters have over those in semi-tropical countries.
It is said that cane has never been prOpagated from the
seed; for although it sometimes “feathers,” and this
white dust has been planted, it has never been known

now SUGAR Is MADE. 81

to germinate; so that it seems the plant can only be
propagated from cuttings alone.

As soon as the Christmas holidays are at an end, the
planter sets his negroes to open the ditches of the
plantation, which have become choked by the vegetation
of the previous summer; for although the sugar plant
requires occasional rains, there is nothing that destroys
it more quickly than standing water, which would rot
the stubble.

This important work performed, the next thing is to
burn of the “trash,” or old leaves, of the last crop,
which has been strewn over the stubble to protect it
from the frosts. It is then ploughed between the rows
of stubble; and that portion of the field which is worn
out is thoroughly turned up, the old roots being harrowed
together and burnt. When this has been thoroughly_
cleaned, new furrows are run from six ten to feet apart,
according to the judgment of the planter.

The canes which have been preserved in the “ matlays”
through the winter, are then brought forth and laid in
the furrows, sometimes two together, quite parallel to
each other; at other times one is placed down in the fur-
row, and another a little farther along, but so placed that
one overlaps the other; for, as there is an eye at each
joint, from which the young plant shoots, it is necessary,
to insure a good stand, to sow the canes with a liberal
hand. It requires about nine months to ripen eight or
ten joints, on the American plantations, though in the
West Indies about seven months are considered sufii-

6

82 THE TEXAN RANGER.

cient, in ordinary seasons, to ripen the cane in its entire
length.

As soon as the young leaves make their appearance,
the planter’s anxieties begin. At first, of slow growth,
it is invaded by troops of grasses and quick growing
weeds, which would speedily choke up the young plants,
if not held in check by the hoe and the plough. It is
only by constant nursing that the cane is grown; for
should the weather be cold, earth is heaped up to its
roots; if too wet, furrows are opened to drain off the
water; and if the storm has beaten down the soil, the
ready hoe is at hand to loosen it. The negrocs take as
much pride as their masters in seeing the fields clean and
free from grass, and are very sensitive to the sneers of
strangers. On one occasion, a gentleman riding by a
plantation remarked to a negro—-

“ You have a good deal of grass in your crop.”

The negro felt the taunt, and anxious to break the
force of the insinuation, coolly replied, “ It’s poor ground,
massa, that won’t bring grass.” Every two weeks the
whole cane field is wrought over, till it looks like a well-
tended garden.

As the season advances, the cane increases in size and
strength; the leaves lengthen and become broader, and
increase in number until they completely overshadow
their roots, and then, in their turn, they smother the
weeds, which a little earlier threatened their existence,
and thus the attentions and toils of the planter, and his
labourers, become daily relaxed.

The growing crop in the Southern States consists of

now SUGAR Is MADE. 83

three kinds of cane. The first is technically called the
“plant cane,” and this sprouts directly from the cane
planted in the furrows, called the “ seed cane.” The next
are the “ rattoon canes,” or the new stalks from the “ seed
cane,” planted the previous year. The third and last is
the “stubble," or the canes growing from the roots of
the previous year’s “ rattoons.” In the “Test Indies
there are but two kinds of growing cane, the plant and
mttoon, the latter never degenerating into stubble.

In riding through a cane field, either in Louisiana or
Texas, the difi‘erent growths are very plainly to be dis-
tinguished 3 the plant canes are tall and strong ; the
rattoons are smaller in the size of the stall: and the leaves,
whilst the stubble appears as though a blight had passed
over it, or perhaps it more nearly resembles a crop which
has been nipped down by a late frost in the spring.

About July, the crop has grown up strong and luxuri-
ant, so that the leaves of one row mingle with those of
the next, and shutting out the air and sunshine, prevent
the growth of grass and weeds. When this is the case,
there is no more need of the hoe and the plough, and
the crop is said to be “laid by.” The “hands ” are now
employed in harvesting the corn crop, cutting wood, and
doing other necessary work, whilst the sugar canes are
ripening for the cane-knife.

When the canes are ripe, and the season for “ grind-
ing ” has arrived, all is life and animation on the
plantation; the steam engine (if one is used) which
drives the “rollers ” between which the canes are
crushed, is minutely examined and oiled; the kettles. are

84: THE TEXAN RANGER.

inspected to see if their “setting ” is firm and strong;
the “coolers” are cleaned, as well as the “purgery”
tank, and everything is prepared for the operation of
sugar-making.

When all is ready, the negroes, armed with large
broad-bladed knives, attack the canes, each one taking a
row, cutting the stalks close to the ground, and again
decapitating it to remove the upper and unripened joints,
and stripping off the leaves, if any remain upon that
part intended for the mill; and as the tall reeds fall,
their wiry textured leaves snap and rattle against one
another, as they are jerked away by the brawny hands of
the negroes. Behind the cane-cutters follow a troop of
women and lads, who gather up the cut canes and toss
them into the cane-cart; which, the moment it is loaded,
rushes of? as fast as three mules, harnessed and
placed three abreast, can gallop with it; and so the
cane-carts rush and rattle backwards and forwards
between the sugar-house and the field, from light to
dark.

The labourers upon the plantation are divided into two
gangs, each taking it in turns to work for eight hours,
day and night, till the crop is all ground up and con-
verted into sugar.

The planter seems as untiring as the very steam-engine
itself. At all hours of the day or night, he will be found
inspecting the works, and especially the kettles, where
the brown bubbling syrup promises him remuneration
for all his cares and toils of the past year; he will
generally have a little cot fixed somewhere about the

HOW SUGAR Is MADE. 85

place, upon which he can throw himself to snatch a brief
nap now and then.

The sugar-house is the most important, as well as the
most expensive building upon the plantation. Not only
is the house itself built at a very great expense (generally
of brick), but its interior fitting-up will cost several
thousand pounds, viz. :——the engine which works the mill ‘
and the carrying trains ; the boiling house, with its battery
of kettles; the cooling room, where the boiled syrup,
after it has been “struck,” granulates; the purgery,
where the molasses drain from the hogsheads of sugar
before they are fit for market; the store room, where
the drained hogsheads are stored ; and the cooper’s room
where the hogsheads for the reception of the sugar, and
the barrels for the molasses, are manufactured.

The canes brought from the field are placed in rows
upon thin planks, whose ends are inserted intwo endless
chains, and by the action of the engine the stalks are
conveyed to the rollers, between the first pair of which
they are crushed, and then passed on to the next set of
rollers, where they are again thoroughly compressed.
Every drop of the sap having been extracted, they are
again received upon another series of planks placed be-
tween endless chains, and are conveyed away to be
consumed in the furnaces under the kettles.

The cane when crushed, and only fit for fuel, is a
fibrous mass of crushed pith and outside covering of the
cane, and is termed “begassé.” The juice as it flows
from the rollers is received in tanks, the raw juice from
these being conveyed to the kettles by troughs; but as

86 THE ’IEXAN RANGER.

these tanks communicate with one another, the last, or
the one nearest to the kettles, is used to “temper ” the
juice in with lime.

Much nicety of judgment is requisite for the due per-

' formance of this, and many considerations must be

carefully weighed—the soil on which the crop was grown,
whether the season has been wet or dry, &c. However,
as soon as one or two “strikes” have been made, the
proper quantity to be employed is ascertained, and after
this there is not much trouble.

The French creoles have named the kettles thus :—
The batterie, the‘simp, the fimnbeau, the propre, and the
granola. The batterie is the last used, and where the syrup
gets its final boil; the granule is the one which first re-
ceives the tempered juice from the tank. Underneath
the set of kettles a fierce furnace rages, fed by “cord ”
wood, stores of which have been laid up against the
grinding season 3 and in all the kettles, the edges of each
nearly touching the next as they are set in a row, the
liquor seethes, and bubbles, and boils—the scum, as it
rises, being carefully removed from each of the kettles.

At the batterie stands the “ sugar-maker,” the im-
portant functionary, for the time being, of the sugar
plantation. His commands, be he black as midnight,
are attended to with an unquestioning punctuality that
shows how much is dependent upon his skill.

N o tyro can fathom the mysterious wisdom of the
sugar-maker’s mind. He looks into the batteric, but sees
more than is accorded to the Vision of the uninitiated.
The dark tumbling mass of liquid sweet appeals to his

How SUGAR Is MADE. 8’7

judgment in every throe it heaves from its bosom; a
large and ominous bubble will, perhaps, fill him with
dismay. If the mass settles down into quietude, he will
yell franctically to the old Argus at the furnace, to
throw in more wood ; then, perhaps, the liquid will dance
and frolic, and whiten and coquette, and then comes
over the face of the sugar-baker a grim smile of satis-
faction, as he, with his wooden spatula, beats down and
breaks the bubbles that might otherwise rise too high.
Now also the sugar-maker observes the syrup, as it cools
upon his ladle, and also sees if it will string into threads,
for the critical moment is approaching, the “ strike ” is
at hand. ~

The sugar-maker, now armed with an immense ladle
fastened on the end of a long handle, holds it suspended
over the Mira-£6; the sugar-maker’s assistant, likewise
prepared, holds his ladle over the gimp, or second kettle.
The moment the strike is ready, the sugar-maker’s
object is to get the liquid as quickly as possible out of
the batterie. Over he throws it into the adjoining box,

d as it lessens in the heated kettle, it boils more and
more furiously; he ladles on, nevertheless, with insane
zeal, until his assistant, seeing what remains in the bat-
Zcrz'e would be destroyed by the glowing heat, tumbles
over the displaced quantity from the strap, which is in
turn replenished from the flambecm, the flambeau from
the propre, the 297029719 from the granule, and the gwmck
from the juice boxes or receivers connected with the
mill, and then the work goes on to complete another
“strike.”

88 THE TEXAN RANGER.

The syrup thus boiled to the requisite point, flows
through the trough to the cooler appointed to receive it,
Where it spreads itself over the cOoler, and presenting a
large surface to the air, it can be seen crystallizing as
you watch it, till it assumes the well-known form of
brown sugar.

then the syrup has granulated in the coolers, which
will be in a day or two, the sugar is carried ofl’ and put
into the hogsheads, and these are placed in aroom called
the pzwgery, upon beams which are placed over an im-
mense tank that extends the length of the room; and
here, through some holes bored in the bottom of the
hogsheads, the molasses gradually drains away from the
sugar, the casks are replenished from one another with
drained sugar, to supply the loss caused by the drain-
age; and when the exudation of molasses has entirely
ceased, the hogsheads are removed to the store—room, to
make room for others.

\Vhen the molasses tank becomes too full, or when all
the hogsheads have been drained,the molasses is barrelled
up for transportation to market, and it generally pays
the whole of the expenses of the sugar-making ; so that
the crop stored in the hogsheads is all profit.

A few days before Christmas, the sugarl‘making is at
an end, and the few days that intervene before their
holidays, which last from Christmas day to the New
Year, are employed in cleaning up, and tidying the sugar-
house.

During the “grinding,” everything and everybody,
eveuto the very dogs, have got fat and greasy. The

HOW SUGAR Is MADE; 89

little negroes can hardly see out of their eyes for fat, for
from the day the first cane was out, till the last drop
had been baled out of the molasses tank, they had
never lost a moment, except when asleep, in eating the
raw cane, or picking the pieces of candied sugar from the
troughs. And now, when all are happy and good tem-
pered, is the time for the pedlars to sell their gaudiest
handkerchiefs, ribbons, and Brummagem jewelry, to the
dark Venuses or Sylvias, or the young negro men, to
present to those who are in their eyes “ the fairest of
the fair.”

At night, the fiddler rules the hour, whilst on “the
light fantastic toe,” the negroes—

“Responsive to the sound, head, feet, and frame
Move awkwardly harmonious ; hand-in-hand.
Now lock’d, the gay troop, circularly wheels,
And frisks and capers with intcmperate joy,
Halts the vast circle, all clap hands, and sing ;
While those distinguished for heels and air,
Bound in the centre, and fantastic twine.
Meanwhile, some stripling from the choral ring,
Trips forth, and not ungallantly bestows
On her who nimblest hath the green sward beat,
And whose flushed beauties have enthralled his soul,
A silver token of his fond applause.”

The crop sent to market, the planter and his family
follow, to enjoy a little relaxation after his year’s hard
work and anxiety ; and whilst he is enjoying himself at
some watering place, his crop is being carried north,
south, east, and west, where, in time, “it sparkles on the
bridal cake 3” assumes a thousand forms in the confec-
tioner’s window; neutralizes the acidity or bitterness of
medicine ; gives life to the fragrant cofiee and tea;

90 THE TEXAN RANGER.

destroys the unpurified tastes of preserved meats; and
retains for years the delicate flavour of our choicest
fruits; turn, indeed, which way you will, you perceive
the ameliorating influence of sugar upon the economy
of life.

 

CHAPTER VI.
COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION.

ABOUT the early history of cotton there is a mystery which
it seems difiicult to solve. NO vegetable production has a
Wider field of climate and soil adapted to its cultivation ;
none seems to have been more universally known; and
yet it is only within the memory of man that it has
assumed its present important place in the commercial
affairs Of the world. Cotton was cultivated in India in
the earliest times ; in fact, it seems to have been known
and used by all the Oriental nations as far back as history
has made any record, and yet, in its manufactured form,
it never occupied in ancient times a place of importance
for the wants of man. i

The Hindoo, Arab, and Persian have, no doubt, from
time immemorial, formed their loose robes of cotton. It
was more agreeable in their hot climate than any other
fabric for their apparel ; but it is evident that it was con—
fined tO household manufacture, and that no attempt was
made to go beyond the local demand. This custom still

COTTON: ITS GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 91

{ prevails in the countries just named, particularly in India ;
for almost every Hindoo family of the present day has
its patch of cotton, from which is taken what is required
: for daily use, and the surplus is left to decay in the
: fields.
But the most extraordinary fact regarding cotton is,
' its never being mentioned in Scripture; and that the
ancient Egyptians, although familiar with its uses,~—for
merchants from neighbouring countries, must, by their
clothing, have made it familiar in the streets of Memphis
and Thebes,—seem to have religiously proscribed it as an
article of domestic use.

Upon the tombs of Egyptians we find piously sculp-
tured the active employment of the venerated dead.
The field of flax, from which was spun the ,“ fine linen”
of the sacred writings, is common, but the picture of the
cotton-plant has never been found among the relics of
this mysterious people. The art of embalming has not
only preserved the bodies of the ancient Egyptians, but
it has exposed to the gaze of the curious of modern
times, millions of yards of cloth, once used by them in
their household establishments; for it has been ascer-
tained that the wrappings of the mummies are composed,
in part at least, of the napkins and sheets that were pro- -
bably desecrated by contact with the body of the dead:
and yet, with this indiscriminate gathering together of
cerements, the products of flax alone have been found.

A century ago, a learned swarm of France asserted that
the coverings of the mummies were of cotton. A curious
and voluminous discussion was the consequence. It was

92 THE TEXAN RANGER.

contended that some of the mummy-cloths looked like
cotton, felt like cotton, and that it was reasonable to
suppose that they were cotton. In the midst of these
“philosophical transactions” connected with the subject,
one or two practical men applied the microscope to the
fibre of cotton and flax. The former, they found, was
composed of transparent tubes; the latter was jointed
like cane. The magnifying-glass looked more deeply
’ into the subject than the specious theories of the philo-
sophers, and confirmed the truth of history and tradition,
that the Egyptians used linen cloth alone, for the fibre
of the threads of the mummy-cloths is jointed, as is the
fibre of flax of the present day.

As we have already suggested, there must have been a
religious condemnation of the use of cotton by the ancient
Egyptians ; but after their nationality was destroyed by
conquest, it is evident that corrupt-ions—or, rather, more
enlightened systems of commerce—prevailed, and “ pro-
hibited things” came gradually into use, among which
was cotton cloth; and, at the commencement of the
Christian era, it was used more or less throughout the
Roman Empire, and was therefore not unfamiliar to the
then civilized world.

There are vague notices of cotton gleaming through
the obscurity of succeeding centuries, but at no time did
it assume an important place in the commerce of nations.
It no doubt continued to be used in localities, particularly
in India and Arabia, as had been the case from the
earliest times 5 but it was not till Mohammed commenced

 

COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 93

agitating the East, that cotton seems to have attracted
any attention.

The followers Of the Prophet were wearers of cotton;
it even seems to have had a sacredness Of association
among these stern fanatics. Hence it was that, as they
spread over Asia and Southern Europe, they carried the
example of the value of cotton with them, and made it
for the first time an important article of commerce. At
the time the Moors occupied Spain, they were celebrated
for the manufacture of cotton into costly fabrics ; and,
wearing it profusely themselves, it became a kind Of badge
to the Christians of the “turbaned infidel,” which no
doubt caused a prejudice that Operated against its more
rapid introduction into the European world.

Columbus found cotton growing spontaneously upon
many of the “fest India islands ; and among the Mexi-
cans and Peruvians cotton cloth was universally worn.
Cortez sent home to Spain, after his conquest of Mexico,
mantles and robes Of native manufacture, which were
remarkable for beauty and the perfection of their work-
manship. There cannot be a doubt that the royal robes
of Montezuma and of the Incas of Peru, would surpass
in beauty and fineness anything produced in Manchester
at this day ; for it is a singular fact that machinery,
even in its present state Of perfection, cannot equal the
delicate workmanship Of unaided semi-barbarian hands.
The skill of weaving cotton. into cloth, so remarkably dis-
played by the ancient Mexicans, still exists in their
descendants.

We have seen blankets, which are the common dress

94 ’ THE- mnxm RANGER.

of the Indian, which surpass any that are produced by
the most perfect and expensive looms. These “ ponchos ”
are part cotton and part wool, and many are of singular
beauty and brilliancy of colour: We remember one, in
particular, thatfor many years had served a Texan Ranger

' for tent-cover, saddle-blanket, and bed. For months
together it had remained stretched out on poles, subject
to the heat, the humidity, and the scorching sun of the
tropical climate, and yet it had not lost a single sparkle
of beauty in its rainbow-tinted border, or apparently
decayed the least in its fabric.

These “ ponchos,” though soft, and apparently loose in
texture, are as impervious to water as if made of India-
rubber. The admirable mixture of vegetable and animal
fibre, swelling and acting on each other, close up all the
meshes of the cloth when wet; yet, when the blanket is
dry, the cool sea-breeze finds its way through the folds.
But in the “reboso,” or long scarf, so witchingly worn
by every class of Mexican women, do we find, as might
be expected, the native excellence of the cotton manu-
facture most beautifully illustrated. The ladies of the
polished circles of modern blexican society, possess an
Oriental fondness for flowing robes, and untold treasure
is often expended to procure the rich fabrics of the
French and Flemish looms.

But those only are to be envied who can procure the
still more beautiful manufacture of the simple native
Mexican, who, without any other aid than a rude needle,
surpasses the skill of modern art, and shows that the
hand, When cultivated, possesses a sentiment and precision

: a. A ,=,. .- , =...{= ... j

‘ “ reboso ’

'COTTON: ITS GROWTH AND CULTITATION. 95

i in labour that can never be attained by machinery.
These native Mexican “rebosos ” seem, from their glossi-
. ness, to be made of silk, and yet they give a sense of
, cotton to the touch. So carefully has the web and our
' woof been manufactured by the fingers, that a new
character is imparted to the cloth, that cannot be under-
stood or appreciated except from personal inspection.

Had any native Mexican placed his “poncho ” or his
’ among the costly fabrics accumulated in our
, great Industrial Exhibition, he would have carried off
' the palm for his” unequalled, and, to us, his incomprehen-
sible skill.‘

But we are not to infer that the wonders of a New
WVorld gave an impulse to the use of cotton ; the staple
only became better known, for it still struggled for an
' important place among the wants of man. There was an
invisible, yet powerful obstacle, seemingly, in the way of
. its general appreciation.

Enough of cotton, to cause it not to be forgotten
among the things that were, was wrought up in the
looms of France, Italy, and the Low Countries; but
it never assumed an absorbing interest until its merits
were appreciated in England, and it was eventually
destined, as a return for protection, to become the right
arm of power to this country. But even here we
' advanced in the manufacture of cotton goods, as people
feel their way along an uncertain road. Linen was first
, adulterated with cotton, but not acknowledged in the
manufactured goods ; the next great progress was made
in using cotton to fill in a linen warp. This went on

96 THE TEXAN RANGER.

until some daring genius completed the discovery, that
good cloth could be made altogether of the hitherto
neglected staple. This fact once established, all pre—
judice seemed to give way, and, unconsciously to the
politicians and statesmen of the day, there was laid the
foundation of our present wealth and power.

There appears to be no limit to the varieties of cotton.
In Africa and Asia more than sixty different kinds, in
each country, have been found growing spontaneously;
and it would seem that, in every part of the world,
where the climate is congenial, cotton springs up to meet
the wants of man.

As we become familiar with the agricultural wealth
of the southern portion of the American continent, and
the islands bordering on the Pacific coast, we constantly
hear of the discovery of new varieties of the cotton plant,
native to the soil; and I have no doubt that North
America possesses greater varieties of this plant than
any other portion of the world.

Amongst some of the tribes of the southern Indians,
the plant flourishes with a vigour and profuseness un-
known to other producers.

It is said that the cotton of the Pines, a Texan
tribe, is extraordinary for length and fineness. The
Navaj 0s, living in the country bordering on New h’lexico,
have abundant cotton fields, and a careful examination of
their “ national blanket,” displays the fact that the staple
they use is remarkable for strength and fineness.

The varieties, common to the southern states, pro-
duce an article for commerce that can only be divided

 

 

COTTON: ITS GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 97

into “short” and “long” staple; and if there were
3 1y original differences in the plant, they have assimilated
until any really great distinction is lost. The “short
staple” or “upland ” cotton, was originally procured
from the West Indies, and is now cultivated in North
and South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama, Mis-
sissippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, Florida, and Texas.

The “long staple” or Sea-island cotton is supposed to
be a native of Persia, and is the finest cotton in the
world, commanding four or five times the price of “up-
land ” cotton. It is only used in the manufacture of the
finestfabrics that come from the loom. Themoreingenious
artisans frequently combine Sea-island cotton with silk,
and the mixture is rarely discovered by the most prac-
tised judges.

The “upland ” cotton, When prepared for market, has
a short staple, but presents many qualities, denominated
“fine,” “ middling,” “fair,” and to commercial men and
manufacturers other distinctions, caused by favourite
colours and freedom from foreign substances. These, to
the uninitiated, almost imaginary distinctions, give charac-
ter to the current prices paid for cotton, and, in time, the
“ buyer ” becomes so sensitive to inequalities of ap-
pearance and touch, that nothing less searching and
demonstrating than the machinery, which works the
cotton fibre into gossamer thread, will display the justice
of these critical distinctions ;—for, to the unpractised eye
and touch, all cotton is cotton, whatever may be the vast
differences that really distinguish its characteristics.

One of the amusing incidents connected with the
7

98 THE TEXAN RANGER.

growth of cotton, is the interest taken in procuring fancy
varieties of seeds. The wise planter knows the full
value of using seed that is procured from a distance, and
thus secures himself against the deterioration of his
cr0p, resulting from replanting continually that which is
produced upon his own field. But occasionally, favour-
able circumstances cause the cotton-plant to yield more
than the usual amount to the planted acre ; then it is in-
stantly announced that a new variety of cotton has made
its advent upon the earth, and the local newspapers teem
with advertisements, and the commission houses are
filled with the magic seed.

N 0 wonder is it that the planter should rejoice at any
improvement in the growth of his favourite plant, or that
he should allow his hopes to carry his reason captive.

When, with the usual amount of labour, the prospect
of increased production presents itself, the consequences
to him and the commercial interests of the world are
too great to be contemplated with a cold and philosophic
eye.

The florist, with an indifference to intrinsic merit

that seems cruel beyond precedent, takes the sweet :

rose, and by ten thousand tortures—by depletions with
arid soil, and repletions by guano, by roasting in hot-
houses, and smothering under glass retorts,——brings
forth the queen of flowers, brilliant in poverty, or fat-
tened into deformity; and then, giving these products
of artificial means unpoetical names, he creates an im-
mense excitement amongst the fanciers of titles instead
of flowers. If this happens where only the gratification

 

COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 99

of luxury is concerned, imagine what must be the feel-
ings of many who, cultivating cotton, and admiring it
for its money-producing value, hear florid accounts of
new varieties of seed, which, regardless of the manner
of being sown, or of the excellence of the soil, or care
of cultivation, spring into plants from which flows the
rich cotton, as from an over-filled basket:

The “White Seed,” the “Petite Grulf,” the “ Okra,”
the “Multibolled,” the “Mastodon,” the “Sugarloaf,”
and the “Prolific,” are the fanciful names of these won-
derful germinators, which have, for a time, commanded
attention and admiration, and then sunk into obscurity;
the universal law still prevailing, that with good land,
judicious cultivation and the blessing of Providence are
the only securities for a good crop.

Ths history of the introduction of the plant into the
Southern States is vague and unsatisfactory. Enter-
prising planters, and gentlemen fond of agricultural
pursuits, had, from the earliest period, procured the
cotton-seed from abroad; and, as a matter of course, and
as a mere speculative interest, had small patches of
cotton planted in their gardens and fields.

In this unpretending manner, the plant became accli-
matised and prepared for the important part it was soon
to play in the commercial prosperity of the Southern
States. .

As the improvements in cotton machinery progressed,
the demand for the staple increased; and the ancient
fields of production failing to supply the demand, induce-
ments were offered for the extension of its cultivation.

100 crnn TEXAN RANGER.

The impulse once given, it became a rapidly increasing,
but still an inconsidcrahle article of commerce.

With the increasing popularity of cotton goods, came
a demand for machinery to facilitate their manufacture.
The hand of the artizan, however skilful and rapid, was
found insufficient to supply the new demand, and
mechanical genius was induced to seek new channels of
usefulness. It would seem to be the economy of Provi-
dence, that useful inventions should always keep pace
with the wants of mankind; and if we examine into the
history of machinery used for weaving cotton into cloth,

'we find that the progress towards its present complete-

ness, is exactly equal to the increasing necessity that it
should be advanced towards perfection, so as to enable
it to supply the growing demand.

The first improvement upon the simple loom was the
“ fly shuttle,” which was drawn across the warp without
direct interposition of human hands; this enabled the
workmen to weave twice the amount compared with the
primitive manner.

Cotton goods becoming more universal, the “spinning
jenny’

’

was invented. The demand still increasing,
Arkwright accomplished the mighty work of making
cloth entirely by machinery. Still the demand increased—
hand-carding was displaced, and the cards were driven
by the untiring energy of wood and iron. By slow but
certain approaches, every combination of power was
united, necessary to produce cotton goods without the
direct labour of man ; cotton, therefore, became cheaper
than linen, and the manufactm‘e of cotton goods, for the

COTTON: TTS GROWTH AND CULTLVATLON. 101

first time in the history of the world, assumed an
important place among the suppliers of the wants of
mankind.

At this very period of the triumph of the cotton manu-
facturer, the growth of the staple was for the first time
becoming a matter of solicitude to the planters of the
colonies of Georgia and South Carolina; and at the
very moment when Egypt and other portions of Africa, i
with Hindostan (1784), failed to supply this country
with her increasing demand, eight bags were seized at
Liverpool, on board of an American vessel, because it
was supposed by the Custom House officers, that such a
vast quantity could not have been raised in the United
States.

The eighteenth century of the Christian era was
drawing to a close. The value of cotton, as adapted to
the wants of man, had become, for the first time in the
world’s history, universally acknowledged, when a new
and unexpected obstacle presented itself. It was found
that the labour of preparing cotton for the market was
so expensive, that it never could be brought into universal
use. The machinery necessary for its manufacture had
been made so complete that it far outstripped the
capacity of a cheap supply of the raw material. Could
cotton be prepared for market with the same facility that
it could be transformed into cloth, a new era of commer
cial, as well as social prosperity, promised to dawn upon.
the world.

But, alas! the fibre was attached to a seed, and by
such a mysterious connection, that it could not without

102 THE TEXAN RANGER.

great labour be separated. If it had to be picked off by
human hands, or by the rude machinery already adopted
for the purpose, the expense of its preparation for com-
mercial purposes still rendered it a luxury, and caused
its uses to be limited to the few who could afford it.
But if some great genius could accomplish the desired
end, and, by a process at once rapid and cheap, prepare
the staple so abundantly, that it would be able to choke
up the spindles and looms which waited for work, then the
rich and poor would alike be clothed in “fine raiment,”
and a new impulse, inferior only to the advent of print-
ing, would be given to the world.

Eli Whitney was the man whose mechanical genius
has given to the world the object so much desired. Born
in one of the New England States, he emigrated to
Georgia, where the subject at once attracted his at-
tention, and after many weeks of patient industry, he
produced the “ saw-gin,” which from its first construction
was so perfect, that his successors in the mechanical arts
have found nothing that could be materially improved.

Whitney, the great benefactor of his country, who
caused the solitudes to be peopled, who gave profitable
direction to the immense agricultural resources of the
South, and Who gave materials for the industry of the
North, lived in a constant struggle with adversity, and
died poor.

At this point terminates the struggle, which cotton
had for centuries carried on with the world for its pre-
eminence amongst the staples. All at once, it seemed as
if the proper time had arrived. Every obstacle to its

COTTON: ITS GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 103

use melted away. Arkwright’s inventions, and those of
his associates, accomplished all that was desirable for
the manufacture of cotton goods. VVhitney’s genius
enabled the agriculturist to supply the growing de-
mand at profitable prices, and by the inventions of
the others, a pound of cotton, which, by the exhausting
labour of the hand was spun into a thread of five hun-
dred feet, was by machinery lengthened into a thread of
one hundred and/fifty miles ; and the value of the exports
of cotton from America was increased, in sixty years,
from fifty thousand dollars, or ten thousand pounds
sterling, to the enormous amount of twenty—six millions
of pounds, or one hundred and twelve millions of
dollars.

The cotton region extended over more than two-thirds
of the whole United States, and possessed, in consequence,
every variety of scenery; and thus cotton plantations
unlike sugar estates, were made picturesque by the com-
binations of hill and dale. Some favourite site, which
commands a view of the surrounding country, is generally
chosen for the “residence 3” whileja gushing spring hard
by will form the nucleus of the “nigger quarters.”
The roads follow the favourable suggestion of the surface
of the country, and wind pleasantly through the cul-
tivated fields and “ wild woodland.”

The preparations for planting the cotton begin in
January. At this time the fields are covered with the
dry and standing stalks of the “last year’s crop.” The
first care of the planter is to “ clean up” for ploughing. .
To do this, the “hands” commence by breaking down

104: THE TEXAN RANGER.

the cotton-stalks with a heavy club, or by pulling them
up by the roots. These stalks are then gathered into
piles, and at night are set on fire.

This labour, together with “ housing the corn,” re-
pairing fences and farming implements, consumes the
time up to the middle of March, or the beginning of
April, when the plough for \the next crop begins its work.
First, the “water-furrows” are run from six to seven
feet apart, and are made by a heavy plough drawn by
oxen or mules. This labour forms the surface of the
ground into ridges, in the centre of which is next run a
light plough, making what is termed the “ drill ,” a girl
follows the plough, carrying in her apron the cotton
seed, which she profusely scatters in the newly made
drill; behind the sewer follows the “harrow,” and by
these various labours the planting is temporarily com-
pleted.

From two to three bushels of cotton seed are necessary
to plant an acre of land. The quantity used, however,
is of but little consequence, unless the seed is imported;
for the annual amount collected at the gin-house is
enormous, and the surplus, after planting, is either left
to rot or to be eaten by the cattle, or else scattered upon
the fields for manure. If the weather be favourable,
the young plant is discovered making its way through,
in six or ten days, and the “scraping” of the crop, as it
is called, now begins. A light plough is again brought
forward, which is run along the drill, throwing the earth
awag/fi‘om the plant ,- then come the labourers with their
hoes, who dexterously cut away the superabundant

 

 

COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 105

shoots and the intruding weeds, and leave a single cotton
plant in little hills generally two feet apart.

Of all the labours of the field, the dexterity displayed
by the negroes in “scraping cotton” is most calculated
to call forth the admiration of the novice spectator.
The hoe is a rude instrument, however well made and
handled: the young cotton plant is as delicate as
vegetation can be, and springs up in lines of solid masses,
composed of hundreds of plants. The field hand, however,
will single out one delicate shoot from the surrounding
multitude, and with his rude hoe he will trim away the
remainder with all the boldness of touch of a master
hand, leaving the incipient stalk unharmed and alone in
its glory; so that at nightfall you can look along the ex-
tending rows, and find the plants correct in line, and of
the required distance from each other.

The planter who can look over his field in early spring,
and find his cotton “ cleanly scraped,” and his “ stand ”'
good, is fortunate; still, the vicissitudes attending its
cultivation have only commenced. Many rows, from the
operation of the “ cut-worm,” and from multitudes of
other unknown causes, have to be replanted, and an un-
usually late frost may destroy all his labours, and compel
him to do the work all over again. But if no untoward
accident happens, in two weeks after the “ scraping,” an-
other hoeing takes place, at which time the plough throws
the furrow on 2‘0 the roots of the now strong growing
plant, and the increasing heat of the sun makes it
necessary to sink the roots deeper in the earth.

The “ merrie month of May ” is now drawing to a

106 THE TEXAN RANGER.

close, and vegetation of all kinds is struggling for pre-
cedence in the fields. Grasses and weeds of every
variety, with vines and wild flowers, luxuriate in the
newly turned sod, and seem to be determined to choke
out of existence the useful and still delicate cotton. It
is a season of unusual industry on the cotton planta-
tions, and woe to the planter who is outstripped in his
laborn's, and finds himself “ overtaken by the grass.”
The plough tears up the surplus vegetation, and the hoe
tops it off in its luxuriance. The race is often a hard
one, but industry conquers ; and when the third working
of the crop takes place, the cotton plant, so much
cherished and favoured, begins to overtop its rivals in
the fields, and soon casts a chilling skade of superiority
over its now intimidated groundlings, and commences to
reign supreme.

Through the month of July the crop is wrought over
for the last time; the plant, heretofore of slow growth,
now makes rapid advances towards perfection. The
plough and hoe are still in requisition. The “water—
furrows” between the cotton rows are deepened, leaving
the cotton growing, as it were, upon a slight ridge ; this
accomplished, the crop is prepared for the “ rainy season,”
should it ensue, and is so far advanced that, under any
circumstances, it is beyond the control of art: nature
must now have her way.

The “ cotton bloom,” under the matured sun of July,
begins to make its appearance. The announcement of
the “first blossom ” of the neighbourhood is a matter of
general interest; it is the unfailing sign of the approach

 

COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 107

‘21 of the busy season of “ fall ;” it is the evidence that
soon the labour of man will, under a kind Providence,
: receive its reward. The colour of cotton in its per-
. fection, is precisely that of the blossom, a beautiful
f light, but warm cream colour. In buying cotton, the
' “ bleached ” and “unbleached ” are perceptibly different
, qualities, even to the most casual observer ;—the dark

hues and harsh look of the “unbleached” come from the
' handling of the artizan and the soot of machinery.

If cotton, pure as it looks in the field, could be
wrought into fabrics, they would have a brilliancy and
beauty never yet accorded to any other material in its
natural or artificial state. There can be no doubt but
that in the robes of ancient royal Mexicans and Peru-
vians this brilliant and natural gloss was preserved, and
hence the surpassing value it possessed in the eyes of
cavaliers, accustomed to the fabrics of the splendid court
of Ferdinand and Isabella.

The cotton blossom is exceedingly delicate in its
organization. It is, if in perfection, of a beautiful cream
colour. It unfolds in the night, remains in its glory
through the morn; at meridian it has begun to decay.
The day following its birth, it has changed to a deep red,
and, ere the sun goes down, its petals have fallen to the
earth, leaving a scarcely perceptible germ enclosedin the
capacious calyx. This germ, in its incipient state, is
called a “form ;” in its more perfected state, a “boll.”

The cotton plant, like the orange, has often on one
stalk every possible growth; and often, on the same
limb may be seen the first opened blossom and the bolls,

from their first development as 3‘ forms,” through every
size until they have burst open, and scattered their rich
contents to the ripening winds. The appearance of a
well-cultivated cotton field, if it has escaped the ravages
of insects and the destruction of the elements, is of
singular beauty. Although it may be a mile in extent,
still it is as carefully kept in order as is the mould of
more limited gardens in colder climates.

The leaf of the plant is of a delicate green,—large,
luxuriant, and vine-shaped; the stalk indicates rapid
growth, yet it has a firm and healthy look. The size of
the cotton-plant depends upon the accidents of climate
and soil.

The cotton of Tennessee has but little resemblance to
the luxuriant plants of Alabama and Texas ; but even in
these favoured States the cotton-plant is not everywhere
the same, for in the rich bottom-lands it grows to a
commanding size, while in the more barren regions it is
a humble shrub. In the rich alluvium of the Mississippi,
the cotton will tower far beyond reach of the tallest
“picker,” and a single plant will contain hundreds of
perfect “bolls.” In the neighbouring “piney woods,”
it lifts its humble head scarcely above the knee, and is
proportionably meagre in its produce.

The growing crop is particularly liable to accidents,
and suffers immensely in wet seasons from the “rust”
and “rot.”

The first-named affects the leaves, giving them a brown

and deadened tinge, and frequently causes them to
crumble away.

108 THE TEXAN RANGER;

COTTON: I-rs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 109

The “rot” attacks the “boll.” It commences by a
black spot on the rind, which, increasing, seems to pro-
j duce fermentation and decay.

Worms find their way to the roots 3 the caterpillar eats
i into the “boll,” and thus destroys the staple.

It would be almost impossible to enumerate all the i
.2, evils which the cotton plant is heir to—all of which, how- i
; ever, sink into nothingness, compared with the scourge of i
the “army-worm.”

The moth that indicates the advent of the “ army-
‘ worm” has a Quaker-like simplicity in its light, choco-
': late coloured body and wings, and, from its harmless
. appearance, would never be taken for the destroyer of
' vast fields of luxuriant and useful vegetation. The little,

and at first scarcely perceptible caterpillars that follow
the appearance of these moths, can absolutely be seen to
grow and swell beneath your eyes, as they crawl from
leaf to leaf. Day by day, you can see the vegetation of
the vast fields becoming thinner and thinner, while the
worm, constantly increasing in size, assumes at last an
unctuous appearance, most disgusting to behold.

Arrived at maturity, a few hours only are necessary
for these modern locusts to eat up all living vegetation
that comes in their way. Leaving the locality of their
birth, they move from place to place, spreading a desola-
lation as consuming as fire in their path. All efibrts to
arrest their progress or to annihilate them are vain. They
seem to spring out of the ground, or fall from the clouds;
and the more they are tormented and destroyed, the
more perceptible, seemingly, is their power.

a i

110 THE TEXAN RANGER.

We once witnessed the invasion of the “ army-worm,”
‘ as it attempted to pass from a desolated cotton-field to
one untouched. Between these fields was a wide ditch,
which had been deepened to prevent the onward march
p of the worm. Down the perpendicular sides of the
trench the caterpillars rolled in untold millions, until its
bottom was a foot or two deep with animal life. To an
immense piece of unhewn timber was attached a yoke of
oxen, and as this heavy log was drawn through the ditch, it
seemed absolutely to float on a crushed mass of vegetable
corruption. The day following, under the heat of a
tropical sun, the stench arising from this acidulated mass
of decay was stifling to the country round, giving a
strange and incomprehensible notion of the power and
abundance of this destroyer of the cotton crop.

The season of picking commences in the latter part of
July, and continues without intermission to the Christ‘
mas holidays. The work is not heavy, but becomes
tedious from its sameness. The field hands are each
supplied with a basket and bag. The basket is left at
the end of the “cotton row 3" the bag is suspended from
the “picker’s ” neck by a broad strap, and is used to
hold the cotton as it is taken from the “ bolls.” When
the bag is filled, it is emptied into the basket; and this
routine is continued through the day.

Each “hand” picks from two hundred and fifty to
three hundred, and sometimes four hundred pounds of
“seed cotton” in a day, though some negroes will go
beyond even this.

If the weather is very fine, the cotton is carried from

COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 111

s the field direct to the gin-house; but generally it is first
3 spread out on scafi'olds, where it is left to dry, and
picked clear of any “trash” that may be perceived
: mixed up with the cotton. Among the most character—
2 istic scenes of plantation life is the returning of the
i hands at nightfall from the fields, with their well-filled
baskets of cotton upon their heads. Falling uncon-
sciously “into line,” the stoutest leading the way, they
i move along in the dim light with the quietness of spirits
: rather than “humans.”
The packing-room is the loft of the gin-house, and is
over the gin-stand. By this arrangement the cotton
' is conveniently shoved down a causeway into the “ gin-
: hopper.”
Mention has already been made of Whitney’s in-
‘ vention, and now much of the comparative value of the
staple depends upon the excellence of the cotton-gin.
Some separate the seed from the cotton far better than
others, though all are more or less dependent on the
judicious manner in which they are used. With con“
stant attention a gin-stand, worked by four mules, will
gin out four bales of 450 pounds each, in a day; but this
is perhaps more than the general average.
Upon large plantations the steam engine is brought
, into requisition, which, carrying any number of gins
required, will turn out the necessary number of bales
per day.
The bah‘ng of the cotton ends the labour Of its pro-
duction on the plantation. The power which is used
to accomplish this end is generally a single but powerful

112 THE TEXAN RANGER.

screw. The ginned cotton is thrown from the “ pick-
room ” down into a reservoir or press, which, being filled,
is trampled down by the negroes engaged in the business.
wWhen a sufficient quantity has been forced by “foot-
labour ” into the press, the upper door is shut down and
the screw applied,-—worked sometimes by a mule or horse,
or by an engine, should there be steam on the place. By
this process the staple becomes almost as solid as a mass
of stone. By previous arrangement, strong bagging has
been so placed as to cover the upper and lower side of
the pressed cotton.

Ropes are now placed round the whole, and secured by
a knot; a long needle and a piece of twine close up the
Openings in the bagging ; the screw is run up, the cotton
swells with tremendous power inside of its ribs of
ropes,—the baling is completed, and the cotton is ready
for shipment to any part of the world.

It would be very difficult to give a correct idea of the
profits arising from the cultivation of the cotton plant.
One year cannot be taken as a criterion for the next, as
the plant is liable to so many accidents.

A “ great yield” is 1000 lbs. of “seed cotton” to the
acre, though in Texas on good new “bottom land” we
have known twice this quantity gathered. A thousand
pounds of “seed cotton,” 2'. a. cotton just as it is picked
with the seed in, will give about 300 lbs. of “ginned
cotton.” The average of a bale of cotton to every cul-
tivated acre, is set down by the experienced planter as
a good reward for his exertions.

Five acres of corn and ten acres of cotton are considered

 

COTTON: ITS GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 113

the task of each “field hanc .” Some planters, however,
when they have a sugar planter for a near neighbour,
Often “put in” more land in cotton, as they can then
hire the “ hands ” of the sugar planter, tO pick for a few
weeks between the time of the sugar-crop being “laid
by,” and the time when the cane has matured and is
ready for “ grinding.”

In Texas, where the cotton and sugar plantations on
the Gulf Coast were pretty equally divided, this was
often the case. The earliest, as well as one of the most
healthful pursuits was the cultivation of the soil, and it
seems to have created a manliness and patriotism in those
who have followed it. The planters 1n the Southern
States are agriculturists in the most dignified form.
They plough, they sow, they reap, and direct, without
having anything to do with the mere physical toil. They
have all the advantages that come from a familiarity
with the open fields, combined with all the accomplish—
ments that can be acquired from plenty of leisure. They
are surrounded with a superabundance of the necessaries
of life, and from their isolated positions they are ever
glad to see the face of friend or stranger: they have
become famed throughout the world for their accom-
plished manners and unbounded hospitality.

In the latter part of the cotton-picking season, when
the fierce heats of summer have given place to the
pleasant but bracing influences of the cool “fall”
weather, the planter and his guests, with hound and
horn, “drive the fleet deer the forest through,” or with

the rifle stalk “the antlered monarch ;” whilst those
8

114: THE maxim RANGER;

who prefer it can take the shot-gun and pointers through
the now naked corn fields, and kill quail to their hearts’
content.

The swamps at this season, as well as the ponds, la-
goons, and inland lakes, are alive with wild “fowl, so that
there is no lack of sport ; and the plantation-house
presents a scene of great excitement every morning—
horses neigh, hounds yell, the laugh and joke of “brave
men” very often mingled with the soft laugh of “fair
women,” whilst above all is heard the boisterous yah,
yah, of the negroes,——the whole making a strange but
lively confusion.

About the middle of December, the “ cotton-picking ”
season is brought to a close, and the negroes are allowed
a great deal of relaxation, after their exertions during
the harvest. “ Christmas week” is kept as a strict
holiday, and is the great gala season for the “ darkies.”
All the plantation vehicles, the carts, the mules and
horses, are at the service of the negroes, to convey their
chickens, eggs, corn, &c., to the nearest city or village,
where they sell their property, or barter it away for the
gayest handkerchiefs, gaudy dresses, and other finery, as
well as for luxuries with which to “ keep Christmas.”

Invitations for exchange of visits are circulated
amongst the negroes of different plantations ; fiddlers are
in demand ; and dancing and merriment characterize the
hours of night and day. No people on the earth are
more polite whilst enjoying their “high life below stairs ”
than are the negroes to one another. The plantation
names of everyday life are now dropped, and in place of

COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 115

Tom, Dick and Harry, Dinah, Miranda and Moll, they
now prefix that of Mister, Mistress, or Miss, as the case
requires; generally, as the very height of politeness,
adding the surnames of their masters.

Capital entertainments are now given, at which are
served up rare dishes, and in a style equalling the best
exhibitions of the plantation house. This will be readily
understood when it is known that, for the time being, at
this jovial season, the ladies of the family interest them-
selves in the amusements and entertainments of their
negroes; giving superintendence to the pastry, the
adornment Of the tables, and whatever else will add to
the refinement and festivity.

On such occasions, the mistress and her daughters
may be seen assisting by every act of kindness, and dis-
playing, in the most charming way, the family feeling
and patriarchal character of the institutions of the
“ Sunny South ;” whilst the negroes never feel, on their
part, that they are duly and affectionately remembered,
unless the white family, or most of its members are
present, to witness and participate in their enjoyments.

The festivities of Christmas commence at daybreak.
Just as the first rays of the sun appear, they form into a
procession, and preceded by a fiddle and a variety of
rude instruments, above all of which is to be heard
boisterous singing and laughing, they march round the
house crying out at intervals, “Wake up! wake up!
Christmas has come!” and repeating every expression
of goodwill and gratulation that occurs to them.

In a short time the people of the house are astir, the

 

116 THE TEXAN RANGER.

family assemble, and the delivery of presents begins.
Coats, vests, and other'articles of clothing are given to
the men ; head handkerchiefs, dresses, and ribbons to the
women; flour, sugar, tea, coffee, and other delicacies to
all, whilst lollipops and sweets of various kinds make
the hearts of the child-negroes happy, and the whole
morning is a scene of joyous “ orderly confusion.”

Negroes have a nice sense of the ridiculous, and enjoy
a joke with keen relish. On one occasion, Judge B——
was spending a few days at the plantation of a friend.
The judge was dignified, and, never trifling with others,
he was particularly sensitive to anything like a joke, if
aimed at himself. During the judge’s visit, there was a
plantation wedding, and the judge desired, as a favour,
that he might perform the ceremony, which was readily
agreed to. As the procession was coming “from the
quarters,” one of the “guests of the house ” put half a
dollar into the hands of the bridegroom, and said to hill},
“As soon as the ceremony is over, step up before the
family and the whole company, and give this to the
judge.” The affair went off with much solemnity; the
negro then advanced, and, with a grave face, handed the
money to the judge. The functionary looked confused,
and, not comprehending the matter, asked, “ WVhat was
the meaning of that?” The reply was, “The wedding
fee, sir.” The victim of the joke coloured, became con-
fused, a loud laugh ensued, and the “quarters” were
made more than usually merry at the negro wit that
quizzed the “ big man ” at the “ master’s house.”

On some plantations Sunday is kept with proper

COTTON: ITs GROWTH AND CULTIVATION. 117

Observances, in others it is an idle day, spent in lounging
about. On many plantations the “ whole family,” which
term in the South includes white and black, assemble in
the “plantation chapel,” where divine service is per-
formed by a regularly appointed clergyman; The sick
and aged are particularly addressed, as well as visited at
their cabins, if thought useful or necessary. Of late
years the planters have paid more attention to the re-
ligious instruction of their people, and the benefit has
been mutually felt by “ master and man.” The religious
feelings of the negro are easily touched and excited. If
not properly directed they become superstitious and
fanatical; if intelligently dealt with, they form clear
and practical views of morality and religion.

A gentleman, who was very attentive to the religious
instruction of his negroes, was a good deal distressed at
hearing of one or two flagrant delinquencies on his estate.
He called up one of his most faithful people, and ex-
pressed his mortification, that notwithstanding all his
care, and the expense he went to in procuring them
religious instruction, he had heard of several casesof
highly improper conduct; and concluded by remarking
that he did not believe his negroes were any better now
than before they had preaching. The old man answered
as follows :—

“ You see, massa, de thing is jes this; a heap of things
used to go on before dat you didn’t know nothen about ,
but now, when anythin’ goes wrong, it gets to your
hearin’ ’mediately; we ain’t badder, but we are more
honest in telling you de truth.”

 

118

CHAPTER VII.

TOBACCO CULTIVATION.

IN the smoking room at the Union, in Cambridge, uSed
to hang a picture of Sir “Talter Raleigh, smoking a long
feather—decked Indian calumet. He was represented
reclining in a high-backed easy-chair, the smoke
curling up from his lips in long spiral columns, and
thinking, probably regretfully, of the far-off sunny land,
where he had first learnt the virtues of the weed.

His servant, whom he had sent to bring a cup of ale
or jack, was represented as being so astonished at the
strange sight of smoke issuing from his master, that his
first impulse of terror was to dash the contents of the
cup over Sir “falter, to extinguish the fire.

Probably'no “ new-fangled custom ” spread faster than
the use of tobacco ; even the pedantic king’s “ Counter-
blast ” rather aided its spread than prevented it.

Although tobacco used formerly to be grown in almost
every State of the Union, from Texas to as far north as
Virginia, yet the main crop for exportation was princi-
pally furnished by only three or four States—Maryland,
Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina. In the
rich soils of Texas and Louisiana tobacco grows too rank;
and I have seen imported Havana seed sown in Texas,
whose product the first year was too coarse, from its
luxuriant growth, to be fit for manufacture except in the
coarsest kinds of “plug tobacco.”

TOBACCO CULTIVATION. 119

The bed to receive the seed is prepared by heaping up
a pile of brushwood and setting it on fire: this destroys
the insects in the ground, and the ashes, when dug in
and mixed with the earth, prevent the visits of others,
for a variety of grubs and small insects are fond of the
seed.

Tobacco seed is very small, much smaller than any
seed I can think of just now; at any rate it is not one-
fourth as large as mustard seed, and when the bed is
prepared for it, it is sown as thickly as possible.

The bed thus prepared and sown, the field has to be
prepared to receive the young plants, when they shall
have germinated and become large enough to be drawn ;
for the young tobacco plants are set out, as the English
farmers plant out their young cabbages in the fields for
winter food.

The field, after being thoroughly ploughed and har-
rowed, has one more Operation to go through before it
is quite ready for the plants—it must be “thrown into
hills.”

A light plough, with one mule attached to it, is run
across the field, making furrows eighteen inches apart.
When this is completed, the field has the appearance
of so many “water furrows” cut across it. Then the
plough is directed up and down the field, crossing the
first-made furrows at right angles, and this throws the
ground into “hills.”

The “bed,” which, if the season is dry, has been care-
fully watered every other night, ought, at the end of a
fortnight after the sowing, to show a greenish tinge

 

 

A. 4:34;, . .

 

 

 

120 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Where the young shoots are bursting through the earth,
and at the end of another three weeks or a month the
young plants should be fit for “ drawing.”

At this stage the tobacco planter prays earnestly for a
shower of rain, and the glass is consulted every half-hour,
in the hope of seeing it fall. Every little cloud is noted, in
the hope of seeing it grow larger; for, should no rain fall
when the plants are fit for drawing, the labour will be
increased fourfold, as then they can only be transplanted
in the evening, and will require to be watered.

For a traveller, there is not that interest attached to
a tobacco plantation, that there is in a cotton or sugar
field. In the cotton field the spectator sees the beautiful
cream or scarlet-coloured flowers, or the snowy floss of
the opened bolls, and on each bush he will see the cotton
in its various stages—from blossom to matured cotton.
In the sugar field, he will see the long broad leaves of the
cane rustling in the wind, and he may, here and there,
even in early summer, find a cane fit to cut and eat, whilst
the sugar-house itself will afford both amusement and
instruction, as he inspects its batteries of kettles, its iron
rollers for crushing the cane, its cooling-room, purgery,
85c. ; but the tobacco field presents no more beauty than
would a field full of large lettuces.

At first, until the young plants have commenced to
grow freely, the weeds and grass are chopped out with
the hoe only, and, after the land has been prepared, it is
rare that the plough is used in the cultivation of tobacco,
which is “ a hoe crop.” The moment that some of the
most forward plants show a shoot for blossoming, the

TOBACCO CULTI varrorr. 12-1

crop is ready for “topping,” and the Whole field is gone
over, row by row, by the “ hands,” and the seed or flower
bud is pinched ofif’.

Formerly the anti-smokers used for their favourite
argument, that no bird, beast, or reptile would eat tobacco, *
and that, therefore, men should not use it. But the pGOple
who stated this for a fact, knew nothing about it; for, on
the contrary, no crop is more liable to the worm than
tobacco, and the “tobacco worm ” increases in size faster
than any other caterpillar. When once the worm is first
discovered—and it is closely searched for—the crop has to
be “wormed” every morning, each leaf then is inspected,
and the worms are taken off and smashed.

Blany tobacco planters keep large flocks of turkeys,
which are everyday driven regularly through the rows,
and they soon learn “ to worm ” the crop more effectu-
ally than men can do it.

The goat also will eat tobacco, green or dry, shag or
bird’s eye, all the same.

As soon as the leaves begin to get thick and mottled,
the crop is ripe for the harvest.

Each plant is cut at the ground, and the stem is split
from the root, nearly to the top; it is then cast upon the
ground to “ Wilt.”

At night the cut stalks are carried to the drying sheds,
and here they are, by means of their split stalks, hung
across bamboo canes or slight poles.

As soon as they have wilted enough, the leaves are
pulled off the stalks and put into “ hands,” about twenty-
five leaves being put into each “ hand.”

 

 

122 THE TEXAN RANGER.

The “hands ” are then “ bullied,” 2'. 6. they are packed
together and pressed, so that they undergo a slight
heat.

This is a very critical time, and the planter has now to
use great judgment here, for if the “ bulk ” heats too
much, the tobacco will rot and be good for nothing.

After the “ sweat ” the tobacco “hands” are ready
for packing for the market, and they are put into hogs-
heads, or boxed to be forwarded, to be shipped or sold.

Richmond used to be the head-quarters of the American
tobacco trade; where used to be manufactured all the
various kinds of plug tobaccoes (called Cavendish), from
the choice yellow “honey-dew” to the coarse “negro-
head,” varying in price from sixpence halfpenny to five
or six shillings per pound.

Here, too, used to be sorted the best “wrappers ” for
exportation to Cuba, for many of the best Havanas have
American “ wrappers,” whilst the “ fillings ” were grown
in the Fidelisma Isla, the richest island of the \Vest India
group, the gem of the Antilles. Upon some of the
southern plantations, where cotton and sugar are grown,
the negroes grow a little tobacco for their own consump-
tion, but this is always readily exchanged by them for
the molasses-saturated plugs of manufactured “negro-
head.”

Tobacco is not a necessary, and it has had violent
opponents, from King James to the Bishop of Rochester ;
but doubtless it will continue to be used the Wide world
over, until “ The New Zealander” sits amongst the ruins of
London Bridge; for myself, I can only say that it has

A SETTLEMENT HUNT. 12

made many a lonely night pass more pleasantly, and my
‘ pipe has been a companion by many a forest camp-fire,
when no human being has been within a score of miles.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A SETTLEMENT HUNT.

IN the south-western States of America, the young men
of one settlement, often joined, too, by some of the elder
ones who enjoy a frolic, will challenge those of a neigh-
bouring village to go out into the forest and have a
general hunt, the inhabitants of each village hunting in
livalry against the others.

At the conclusion of the day’s hunt, the game is
counted, the losers having to pay for all the fluids con-
sumed by the whole population of both places, at the
grand feast prepared from the produce of the hunt.

Regular rules govern the hunt, and, as the greater
number of the “heads” killed are always those of the
common little grey squirrels, they form the basis in
reckoning up the grand total at the end of the day.
Thus, a squirrel counts as one, a rabbit as one, whilst a
wild turkey counts for five, and a deer for ten.

Rifles only are allowed to be used, as the “shooting,”
on these occasions, is looked upon as a test of skill be-
tween the young men of either village

As squnrels are the main points to score byW and. as
these are wary, cunning little animals, which always 611-

 

124: ‘ THE TEXAN RANGER.

deavour to keep the trunk of the tree between them-
selves and their enemies, the hunters are obliged to go
in pairs, so that one can “ turn” the shy little beast to
his companion.

At the commencement of the hunt a portion of the
forest is selected by each party; or, should one portion
of the forest be known, or thought to be better stocked
with animals than the other, lots are cast for the coveted
range.

As neither football nor cricket is known in the South,
rifle-shooting is the only means of testing the skill of the
rival villagers, and, truth to say, it stood them in good
stead during the late civil war.

Once only

 

and that was many years ago was I
asked to shoot on the side of a little town. In later
years I had too much work at hunting as a business, to
be anxious for a day’s shooting at one of these noisy

parties.

 

It was more than four hundred miles distant from the
mouth of the Rio Brazos de Dios, that thirty riflemen
on either side met half-way between the two little vil-
lages of IV — and I —, to see which could kill most
game in the forest that stretched between them on the
banks of the stream.

There was not much choice in the ground, as the river
made a mighty bend, so that the forest was fully thirty
miles deep ; for, although W' and I were only
distant eight or nine miles from each other by land, they
were fully sixty by water.

 

 

It did not take much time for either side to pair, as

A SETTLEMENT HUNT. ' 125-

a‘this had generally been decided upon over-night, or the
'3 day previous; so, at a given word, the several pairs dived
iinto the forest. The inhabitants of each place took op-
; posite directions, and very few minutes passed, ere the
a sharp cracks of the small-bore rifles told that the busi-
: ness had commenced.

BIy partner, or “turner,” was a young planter, whose
: leisure hours had been spent in the woods, rifle in hand,

so that he was both a fair hunter and woodsman.

I had shot “a few,” and a roving life had made me
pretty well at home both on the prairie and in the tim-
ber ; and although I did not much care to keep constantly
popping at such insignificant little animals as the squir-
rels, still, for the sake of the credit of “ our side,” I den
termined, just for once in a way, to kill all I could, and
“ hang the expense.”

“ Look out, Joe ! there’s a squirrel up this pecan :
stand where you are, and I’ll turn him round, so that
you can get a shot,” said I to Joey Moore, my partner
in the hunt.

“ How high is he ? ” said Joey.

“ He turned round that second big limb ; I just
caught a glimpse of him.”

Joey kept his stand, as I cautiously moved round the
pecan.

“ Now he’s coming round,” I shouted.

Crack! went the rifle ; bump, bump, came the squir-
rel, as it struck bough after bough in its descent, for it
had gradually worked its way far higher than when I had
first seen it.

126 THE mun RANGER.

“There’s another,” said Moore; “it’s your turn now;
let me send it round to you.”

By noon we had killed, between us, ’70 squirrels, 5 rab-
bits, and a wild hen turkey, which counted 80 for us.

These we had hung in bunches on trees upon the river
bank, intending to collect them upon our return ; or
should the load prove too heavy, we intended to get our
ponies, upon which we had ridden to the rendezvous, and
bring in the various little parcels towards evening.

We were not surprised at seeing no deer, as the con-
stant cracking of the rifles had made them bury them-
selves miles ofi’ in the forest; though, had one solitary
hunter been stalking, he would have been able to see and
kill as many as he needed.

So at noon, having arrived at a cool little spring, we
proceeded to skin a rabbit that we had reserved, and
having larded it with some fat bacon slips, which we had
brought in our hunting pouches for that purpose, we pro-
ceeded to barbecue Bunny, backwoods-fashion, stretched
on a stick over our fire, whilst two smaller cross pieces
kept his fore and hind legs spread out, like 75726 very
natural position of the Austrian eagle. When he was
cooked, we picked his bones, washing down our meal
with some of the cold spring water, mingled with a dash
of “ red-eve ;” and having smoked one cigarette each, we
shouldered our guns for the afternoon’s sport.

“ 8-11 I hush,” said Joey Moore, as he held up a finger
to enforce silence. “Those sunflower weeds were shaking
just now ; it was a turkey moving through them, I think;
anyway I caught a glimpse of some dark object.”

1 srrmtnmnnr nUN'r.‘ 127

We both looked intently at the patch of wild sun-
t flower weeds.

After gazing a few moments, we saw the tall tops of
if three or four move—presently between the stems we de-
i‘ tected some dark ohject, but whether it was covered with
'1: fur or feathers, we could not make out.

“ Shall I shoot? ” said Joey.

“We may lose the whole day before we see it plainer,” ‘
: I replied.

“ Cut loose, it is then,” said Joey.

A shrill squeak came out of the tall sunflower weeds,
1 and in various directions we could hear suppressed
; gruntings, whilst high above all the din were heard
\ curious snapping noises, as though a scattered group of
: negro minstrels were performing on “the bones.” .

“Tree, for your life ! ” yelled Joey. “ Darned if I
f haven’t crippled a Mexican hog, and all the peccaries in
I hearing are rushing for vengeance.”

 

'VVe lost no time in “shinning it” up a couple of
trees, selecting those which were easiest of ascent, so
that we could carry up our rifles with us, and well was

: it for us that we had started with plenty of ammuni-
‘ tion.

Perched up on a stout bough some twelve feet from

the ground sat I, whilst ten paces distant, in the fork of
’ a tree, and in a more comfortable seat than mine, was
Joey Moore. ,

Underneath us, looking up with vicious eyes, the hogs i
snapped their white glistening tusks together, till the
foam was churned and flew upon their dark brown hides,

 

 

128 THE TEXAN RANGER.

while their long variegated bristles stood up erect along
their backs.

“ ‘ Treed,’ by all that’s unlucky,” said Joey. “ How
many do you make of ’em? ” i

“ Thirty-two—but they keep so eternally shifting
about, there may be one less or more ; however, there’s
no time to lose, so make each shot tell, or they’ll keep us
here for a week.” As fast as we could load and shoot,
so as to take good aim, we poured in our fire. and yet
the survivors, though they saw their fellows falling around
them, never for one moment thought of retreat ; at last,
when we did get down to count noses, there lay stretched
out thirty-two dead peccaries.

This adventure with the Mexican hogs had delayed us
for quite a couple of hours, so that we decided to shoot
our way back to the place where our ponies were staked,
as, ere we could reach them, it would be time to collect
our game.

The peccaries being worthless for food, were, of course,
left in the woods as a feed for the Wiltures and wolves.
On our way back we nearly met with a serious accident.
“’6 were walking along very slowly, looking out for any
motion or sound indicating the presence of game. As we
proceeded thus, the duck." clack! of a turkey hen was
heard on our right.

lVe stopped and listened. Cluck! clack ! clue/u !
the sounds were perfectly natural.

\Ve crept on and on in the direction of the clueking”
no stick was allowed to crack ruider our feet, no bush to
rustle, as we brushed against it——-it was eased back to its

A SETTLEMENT HUM. 120

place—and we were most careful as to making the
slightest sound, knowing the shy character of the bird
we sought.

Approaching so silently, we were compelled to move
very slowly, and each time as we gained one position, we
paused and carefully inspected our front.

A Cluck had been heard ahead of us not a moment be-
fore, andI was certain of the direction, so I searched
most carefully the forest before us. I

All at once the sun’s rays were glinted back from some
bright piece of metal—my heart almost stood still—it
was the muzzle of a rifle. Some youngster of the
party had been imitating the hen’s call, to lure up a
“ gobbler.”

“ Hilloa l—you sir—keep up the spout of your shoot-
ing iron,” I shouted ; and with the word up rose a young
backwoodsman, who had not yet quite taken his degree
as a hunter.

\Ve soon reached our horses, and with their aid we
speedily brought in the game,—-—my partner’s and my own
numbering 143, without counting the peccaries, though
when the tale was told they were allowed to us.

The whole number killed by the two parties was
3170 head; our side, the VV.’s, counting fifty of a ma-
jority. So ended that day’s shooting, though the festivities
and feasting lasted all the next day and through the
following night ; and it was only when “the wee sma’
hour ayont the twal” came round, that any began to
look to their horses, and saddle up to see their wives or

sweethearts to their homes.
9

 

 

130

CHAPTER IX.
A CLOSE SHAVE.

MANY of the stock-owners in Texas count their herds of
cattle by thousands and tens of thousands—all branded
and ear-marked with the distinguishing marks and brands

of their owners, which are all recorded at the Court—house
in each county. These brands, consisting of a figure,
such as “ 8 ” or “ 15,” a cross, a trident, a circle, or any
fancy design which can be easily distinguished at a dis-
tance, are burnt into the skin upon the flanks of the
beasts, when calves, and gradually grow larger as the
animal grows up. But there are thousands of wild
cattle in the woods, that have never felt the red-hot
branding-iron on their haunches, or the sharp knife dis-
figuring their ears. .

Some of these have occasionally caught glimpses of
the “still hunter,” through the open trees of some
“ash flat,” or through the more tangled thickets of
“under bush.” Many of them, however, have never ‘
seen a man; for although, like the American wild horse, X
’ they are descendants of domestic animals carried from
the Old World to the New, yet having become wild,
they seem, in some manner, to have become more shy,
more wary and suspicious than even the indigenous forest
beasts themselves. Buried in the tall, matted canebrakes,
or far away, deep in the forests, they eschew the vicinity
of man with the greatest caution; and even after anight’s

A CLOSE SHAVE. 131

browsing, the greater portion of the herd lies down
to sleep or ruminate, only after two or three old
cows and a heifer or two have assumed the duties of
sentinels. These turn their keen noses to the wind,
and listen with their quick, expanded ears, now thrown
forward, now backward, to catch any warning or sus-
picious sounds from the forest. A snapping stick, the
rustling of a bush, or the least taint in the gale, puts
them all alert and on their feet in an instant, ready,
with lowered heads, and straight, stretched-out tails, to
dash away still deeper into the wilderness.

When the cold “ northers ” drive the “ gentle cattle,”
(27. e. the stock-owner’s herd) for warmth and shelter
into the forests, from the prairies where they usually
graze, they sometimes become mixed up with the wild
herds ; and although the greater number return to their
range when the “norther” has blown itself out, still
a few sometimes remain with their wilder brethren,
and become, in a short time, as wild as they are.
The stock-owners regard, with no loving eye, these
forest cattle, which entice away their property, and,
therefore, they lose no opportunity of destroying them.

“I was in Mansville to-day, and saw old Reed,” said
a planter, for whose plantation I was engaged to hunt.
“He says that two beeves of his have been seen in a
bunch of wild cattle up by Hidalgo Falls, in that neck of
the woods where the river makes the sharp bend, and
he told me that if I would send him the hides, I might
have the meat, if I could kill them, or have them killed ;
so if you come across them, just tumble them over. The

 

 

132 THE TEXAN RANGER.

brands are ‘ J. E. R,’ and the marks a ‘ swallow-fork’
in the right, and an underbit in the left ear. One is a
black and white, and the other a red curly steer; so next
time you’re up that way, give an eye to them, if you
please.”

Hidalgo Falls are about four hundred miles up the Rio
Brazos de Dios, and at low water, when the river is
confined to its lower channel, the upper stream falls over
some limestone rocks, having a fall of six or eight feet.
After a few days’ heavy rain, however, or in the spring,
when the snows have melted on the mountains, and there
is a freshet or rise in the river, these rocks are submerged,
often having twenty or thirty feet of water over them,
and allowing the passage of steam boats, which ascend
the river for another hundred and fifty miles, carrying
up necessaries for the lip-river plantations, and load-
ing back with their produce. At other times, when the
river is low, this is not practicable ; and all transportation
has to be performed by waggon teams.

At low water, the stream, though bread, is shallow
above the walls ; and so it is below, except in the centre,
where the main body of water tumbling ever, has worn
a deep channel ; but on either side of this, it is not more
than three feet in depth, and the rocks shelve over, in
some places, a foot or more.

The Falls was a favourite resort for fishing parties
from the neighbouring town, some eight miles distant, as
well as from the few scattered plantations; the planter
and his family, spending the summer day in a kind of
fishing pic-nic. I had often made one in these excursions

A CLOSE SHAVE. 133

and well knew every inch of the ground, or rather
water: and, on the occasion I am about to relate, it was
lucky I did so. ”

The River Brazos, about four miles distant from Mans-
Ville, turned to the eastward for about a mile, and then
gradually took a north-easterly direction, till it reached
Hidalgo Falls. Here it abruptly trended back westerly,
for about three miles; then, for another mile, it ran
nearly west by south, enclosing a pear-shaped piece of
land, at the stalk of which were the Falls. The river
margin all around was densely wooded, but in the centre
there was a small prairie, or prairie glade, about two
miles and a half long, and about one and a half wide at
its broadest, but gradually narrowing, as it neared the
forest towards the Falls. Here the timber was very
thin, not being more than a hundred or a hundred and
fifty yards through, to the rocks on the river.

It was not “ cleverly” daylight, when I put my foot
into the stirrup, one fine morning, to go and look up the
cattle towards Hidalgo Falls ; for I hoped to catch them
out upon the little prairie above mentioned, before they
returned to the forest, which they always sought about
sun-up. I was on the best and fastest of my hunting
horses, with a good bowie knife in my belt, and a short
fourteen gauge shot gun on my shoulder; which, when
thinly patched, threw a ball of about twenty to the
pound. I could easily load it at full gallop, for I made
a practice of carrying a couple of bullets in my mouth,
which I could, after throwing in the powder, drop into
the barrels of my gun. These balls, being wet, would

 

lfi

134:- THE TEXAN RANGER.

bind with the powder for the few seconds required before
they were discharged into the flying quarry.

Keeping well under the timber, with the wind blow-
ing full in my face, I proceeded cautiously along, and at
last, as I hoped, I saw a bunch of cattle feeding towards
the forest, under the shelter of which I was advancing.
In about ten minutes I was fairly abreast of them, and
some three or four hundred yards distant. It was now
light enough for me to use my gun, and as I could see
they :were as yet unaware of my presence,—thanks to
the Wind keeping steady, though in these little prairie
glades it often eddies round very provokingly to the
hunter,—I paused an instant to take note of the ground.

I saw that, should I charge them, there was plenty
of room for me to get two shots, “anyway they could
fix it.” But I wanted to drive them across to the other
timber, eight or nine hundred yards distant; or else,
should they turn up the open, towards the Falls, the
distance was nearly as great, and I should have as good
a chance; whilst, should they make for the forest from
which I was going to rush at them, I felt pretty certain
of both my bullets telling before they reached it.

I could easily distinguish a large black and white
beast, as near to me as any of them, so I determined to
give him the benefit of my first bullet, as most likely it
was the “ J. E. R.” recommended to my attention. As
to the other, that would have to take its chance, for so
long as I got good fat beeves, it was of no consequence
to me which they were.

Loosening my knife in its sheath, and then giving my

A CLOSE SHAVE. 135

spurs to “The Storm,” we rushed at the unsuspecting
cattle at the speed of an express train, andeas soon
running alongside the black and white steer, taking care
to have him on my left, so as to rest my gun upon my
bridle-arm; and as soon as I could bring my gun to hear,
I rolled him over with a bullet through the top of his
bladebone. From long practice, “The Storm,” at the
crack of my gun, sheered, to avoid a dig from the
quarry’s horns, should he be only wounded, or, if killed,
to escape from the animal’s rolling under his feet.

Leaving the black and white steer kicking on the
prairie, I pressed on to get upon shooting terms with
another, and as luck would have it, it proved to be the
other branded beeve; but this time my bullet was not
so fatally placed, for it entered too far back, and only
paunched him.

Loading whilst going at full speed, I still fell a little
behind, and it was not until the wounded beast entered
the timber near the Falls, that I could get a snap shot at
him, again making a bad shot, only breaking a foreleg be-
tween the knee and the elbow, and missing altogether
with the other barrel.

Riding into a thicket, I secured my horse, and having
carefully loaded my gun, this time with patched balls,
I took up the trail, following it by the blood, and
keeping my eyes about me in case of a charge. The
drops of blood led to the bluff bank of the river, just
above the Falls, and down this the wounded steer had
evidently tumbled. The others, in their terror, had
rushed acrossthe shallow river, and he had tried to fol-

 

 

186 THE TEXAN RAN GER.

low them; but having only one foreleg to depend upon,
in the steep descent he had fallen, and rolling down he
had crushed under his weight the young Willow and
cotton-wood saplings, as though they were grass—stalks,
and there he now stood, across the river, up to his belly
in water, quite helpless to climb the steep bank on the
further side:

The river bed was more than a hundred yards broad,
and I saw at once that I must cross it to finish him ; so
divesting myself of some of my clothes, I waded in, the
water generally reaching up to my waist, though in many
places it was much shallower.

About half-way across, my feet slipped upon the
smooth-worn limestone, and down I fell, gun and all,
completely under the water; but just as I picked up
myself and gun, I saw my antagonist was about to re:-
verse the game, and in his turn to hunt me.

Hoping against hope, I threw my gun up to my
shoulder, and pulled the triggers; but two dull clicks
were the only answers, as the hammers fell on the
worthless caps.

It is not the easiest affair in the world to run in water,
especially when it is over your knees 3 and so I found it.
It was impossible to dive and swim under the water, as
every moment you might expect to dash your head
against some great boulder, and my only chance was to
reacli the edge of the Falls, and dropping under them,
to let the steer catch “a cropper” as he pursued me,
for Iwell knew he could not get back again, whilst it was
easy enough for me to climb up, and, regaining my clothes,
850., to put my gun in order.

a CLOSE SHAVE. 137

Keeping my face to my foe, and gradually backing
towards the edge of the rocks near the great Fall, I began
my retreat.

The wounded steer had made one short rush, but had
halted when about thirty paces from me, more from pain
or some other cause, than from the fact of my having
kept my eyes steadily upon him, (for whatever may be
the boasted effect of the human eye in a chance rencomfre
with a wild beast, it is all nonsense when that beast is
Wounded). I had at last gained the place I wished for,
and now it was my turn to commence hostilities, and
force him to a charge. V Splashing up the water with all
my force towards him, he accepted the challenge, and
with a smothered roar and lowered head, he came full at
me at the best pace he could manage with his three legs.
Just as he was upon me, I dropped over the edge of
the rock, alighting on the very edge of the channel of
the great Fall, the spray flying over me in showers; and
slipping under the rocky shelf, I felt perfectly safe. Not
so the steer. From the bank he had advanced towards
me diagonally, to nearly the centre of the river; so
that when he went over the Fall, his impetus carried him
straight into the very middle of the arrowy shoot, where
the water was churned into a yeast of swaying foam.
Now and then I saw his great helpless carcase, as he
rolled over and over, weltering in the irresistible tor-
rent; and at last I saw him washed out, two hundred
yards lower down, on to the shallow upon the edge of
the current; and here, thoroughly cooled, with all the
fight taken out of him, he slowly gained his legs, and

 

138 THE TEXAN RANGER.

made for the shore he had first started from, when he
rolled down the blufi in a vain endeavour to follow his
companions.

I lost no time in putting my gun in shooting trim, and
this being effected, I walked down the river to where he
was standing, and shooting down from above him, I
planted a bullet in the nape of his neck, fracturing the
last vertebral articulation where it joins the skull, killing
him, as nearly as could be, without a pang.

This done, I mounted my horse; and riding back to
the plantation, I despatched some negroes to skin, quar-
ter, and bring home the beef.

 

CHAPTER X.
THE DEATH or THREE sues.

THE backwoodsmen of America Speak of the deer, as
bucks and does. This is a misnomer the more pardonable
because, generally speaking, the rough buckskinned,
jean-clad fraternity, are better deerslayers than the here-
and-there stray visitors who sometimes wander towards
the setting sun; for these, though acquainted from books
with the Fauna of the Old and New \Vorlds, are not
often so successful in the forests as their less-cultivated
brethren, who, killing the game as “meat” for their
wives and children, trouble their heads but little about
the nomenclature of the beasts they pursue, and care no

THE DEATH or THREE sues. 139

more about the genus they belong to, than the very Red-
skins whose hunting grounds they have usurped.

The American stag (Camus Virginianus) is inter-
mediate in size between the red deer of the Scotch
Highlands, and the fallow deer of our parks (the fallow
deer is supposed to be of Eastern origin).

Whilst the fallow deer are of various colours, and
have palmated horns, the American, like the red, are all
alike; a white one being discovered about as often as a
white buffalo, a white crow, or a white blackbird. The
horns of the American deer are round, not palmated, still
they differ very distinctly from those of the Scotch deer,
which are also round; but the beam of the red stag bears
backwards and straightish, the tines curving under and
forward, from the beam. In the common deer of
America, however, the antler curves forward and down-
ward, sickle-shaped, and the tines rise with a slight bend
above the beam, and then point forward.

The flesh, too, is more like red venison than fallow—
being drier; and, except for a month or two, just before
the velvet peels from, or is frayed off the horns, the .
stag does not generally carry a great deal of fat; and,
me judice, I any day prefer four-year-old mutton, to it,
though I have now and then killed deer which would out
two inches of fat on the brisket, and three on the haunch,
and these stags are worth the toil and trouble of the
hunter.

By many the Elk is considered the American stag, but
he has so many points in which he differs from the
Camus Ehgflms, that some of the best American sports-

 

140 THE TEXAN RANGER.

men have agreed to mention him always as the Elk or
WVapiti, whilst they name the Virginian deer z‘ize Stag.
This was the View of the greatest authority on American
game, the late Henry \Villiam Herbert (Frank Forester).

In the far south, where deer are abundant, it would
be impossible to run down a deer with a pack of hounds,
as they would constantly be running through fresh
herds ; and as the forests are so entangled with para—
sitieal plants and wild grape Vines, no huntsman could
keep with his hounds and hold them together, so that
the dogs would not only change their animal, but break
up, and each hunt fresh deer upon their own account.
The hunters, therefore, when hounds are used, make use
of rifles or guns (these latter loaded with buekshot), and,
taking their stand where the deer are likely to pass, they
wait with what patience they can muster, for the deer to
be driven within shot.

But the fairest and most sportsmanlike method is to
stalk the stag, either in the dark-tangled forests or on the
great open prairies, with the rifle. But here there are
no “ gillies,” or keepers, by the score, to drive the herds
in this direction, or to block the passes in that. The
hunter has to rely solely upon himself; he pits himself,
his skill, his caution, and his judgment, against the
timidity, and the keen senses of sight, hearing, and
smell of his quarry.

To attain excellence as a deer-stalker, a hunter must
live temperately, so that his nerves may be in good condi-
tion; his foot sure; his hand firm, strong, and steady;
his eye quick, and all his senses on the alert. He must

 

THE DEATH OF THREE sues. 141

observe the least foot-print, a broken twig, the frayed
bark of a tree, a displaced leaf, the depth and distance
between the hoof-marks, so as to judge of the deer’s
pace, whether he was running, or merely feeding along;
he must note, too, the sun, the wind, the variations and
irregularities of the ground; and be able to crawl like a
serpent on his belly, to tread as silently and stealthily
as a cat, to dodge from tree to tree like an Indian, and
to do all or any of these things easily and by himself.

It was a beautiful August morning When I rode out to
try and jump a deer from the high flags and reeds of a
slough which stretched for more than twenty miles, and
nearly half the breadth of the Bay Prairie, in NIatagorda,
county Texas. The moon had been shining all night,
but had set about three o’clock in the morning, so that
I hoped to find the deer, which had been feeding all
night by its light, couched, by the time I started a little
before sunrise, and enjoying their first nap. As soon as
the sun came up over the forest on the San Bernardo to
the east, I had noticed a large ox-wagon slowly ap-
proaching the slough, and travelling upon the well-worn
prairie road, towards the Colorado river; but after a
glance at it, just to see whether I should have time to
hunt the slough up to where the road crossed it, before
the team reached the crossing, I had paid no more atten-
tion to the wagon.

Intent only upon procuring venison, I rode at a foot’s
pace through the tall, matted reeds, and in about twenty-
five minutes from the time I had begun to beat the
slough, a fine “maiden” doe jumped from just under

 

 

TJIE TEXAN RAN GER.

my horse’s legs. I shot it, and dismounting, proceeded
to gralloch, and prepare to tie it on behind my saddle.

Whilst thus engaged a cheery halloo came down across
the Wind. “ Hilloo, Capt, you’re bent on killing all our
deer, I see.” The speaker was Bill Williams, a son of
one of Austin’s first three hundred settlers in Texas, a
noted deer and bear hunter, with a particular gift for
finding wild honey, for which reason he had received the
nickname of Honey \Villiams; not that he spent all his
time in the woods, for he was a steady, hard-working
man, and good-natured to a degree. But even if he had
spent his time in this way, honey was worth half-a-dollar
a gallon in the rough, unclarified from the wax; and he
could have made a comfortable living from bee-hunting
alone, had he felt inclined. Of all the hearty, kindly
backwoodsmen it was my lot to foregather with in many
a long year’s residence, I look back with the greatest
pleasure to his acquaintance, and hope we may once more
meet under the greenwood tree.

Our greetings exchanged, he continued. “There’s a
bunch of deer up in the bend above our house, and
there’s five or six right good bucks amongst the herd ; I
thought of trying for one in the morning. Will you
come over and sleep at our house to-night, and take a
turn with me to-morrow P ”

Agreeing to this, we parted—I, to carry my venison
home, look over my rifle, and run bullets; and \Villiams
proceeded on across the prairie with his wagon.

Six o’clock found me at Mr. \Villiams’ house, the
father of my friend, and an old acquaintance. It was

”3,
THE DEATH OF THREE sues. 143‘“-

situated in an “island of timber,” about half a mile
from the main forest of the Colorado “ bottom.” Several
gigantic evergreen oaks (the Quercus Wrens) over-
shadowed the house, and protected it from the fierce
southern sun in the summer, and broke the cold
“northers ” in the winter.

Going to the stable, after depositing my gun and
knife on the verandah, my attention was called by Bill
Williams to a mare with twin colts—the only time I
ever saw such a thing, and I record it here—The mare
was white, and her twins—one was black and the other
grey, perfectly formed, strong, and healthy. _

Like most of the old Texas pioneers, the elder Wil-
liams was a strict member of the “ Church ”—not the
English, but that Puritan creed established by the
Pilgrim Fathers when they first landed at Plymouth
Rock; and accordingly, at eight o’clock, all the whites
and blacks upon the place were summoned to evening
prayers, when the old man read a chapter in the Bible,
and offered an extempore prayer, which, if it lacked
grammar, took in all sorts and conditions of men.

An evening spent with one of these old men is par-
ticularly instructive. The single purpose of subduing
the wilderness, and, as they fondly hoped, the conversion
of the heathen, has led these men, almost fanatically, to
encounter perils which are quite unthought of in this
country, and never will be told. I knew, and have been
intimate with, men who, in the early days of Texan set-
tlement, worked constantly protected by a comrade,

 

 

l
l
I
l

r I

/

g [#144 THE TEXAN RANGER.

1.

whose keen eye and ready rifle watched for the painted
warrior whilst the other turned the furrow.

There is a difference of about an hour in the moon’s
setting—an hour later each day ; so that we were not so
early out as we should have been had the moon been in
her first or last quarter; but now near the full, and
shining most of the night, we knew that the deer would
be couched, but as the herd of which we were in search
were known to “ use ”
surrounded by the forest, we felt confident of finding

a particular prairie-nook, almost

them, and so we took our arrangements leisurely.

About half a mile north of \Villiams’ house, the river
made a bend to the east, and then suddenly turned to
the west again, after which it ran nearly due north for
about a mile and a half, when it again turned to the
east,——-the forest following the course of the river exactly,
—so that it enclosed a little prairie nook of about a
thousand yards in length and the same in breadth.
This was the favourite feeding-ground of the herd we
were in search of.

It was broad daylight when, under cover of the forest,
we reached the prairie glade and looked across it to see
if we could perceive the game; but for a short time
nothing was visible. After a few minutes’ watching,
however, a single doe rose up out of the grass, sniffed
the air around, and then sank down again. This is very
common with deer when they first couch. For an hour
or two, at intervals, one or other of the herd, generally
a doe, will get up, and after looking about to see that
no danger is near, will quietly lie down again.

THE DEATH or THREE sues. 145‘

“ Now, then,” said Williams, “ I have heard that you
can, with your hand, bring up deer within shot ; let’s see
you do it now. When you get your shot, the deer will
most likely make for the timber somewhere near that
great live-oak ; so I’ll keep well in the forest till I get
there, whilst you are working up to them on the prairie.

Crawling out upon the plain, and watching carefully
the place where I had seen the deer get up, I at last
reached a bunch of prairie weeds, where the tall golden-
rod and wild myrtle stalks completely concealed me.
Here I determined to wait until I imagined Williams
had reached his ground; and then, as soon as any of the
deer got up, I meant to attract its attention by waving
my hand, knowing that the curiosity of the deer would.
bring it down to see what was the matter.

At last a doe got up, and as soon as it looked in my
direction, I moved my arm up and down amongst the
weeds, and in half a minute, by some movement, she had.
communicated the intelligence that there was something.
more than usual stirring, and the whole herd of about
twenty-five animals were on foot, and gazing down at
the motion of my arm. As soon as I lowered my hand,
the herd began to move slowly towards me, and as they
approached, I had plenty of time to pick out the finest

of the stags.

' When they were about forty yards distant from me I
gave a slight whistle, when they all halted and gazed at
_ the weeds. Seizing this moment, I covered the best
stag, and fired, killing him instantly, whilst the others
galloped away towards the position where I believed

146 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Williams was posted to receive them. I reloaded my
rifle under the cover of the weeds, as I thought his shot
might turn or scatter the deer, and thus I might get
another shot at them. Before I had quite finished load-
ing, the report of Williams’ rifle came across the wind,
and the now thoroughly frightened deer scattered in all
directions, some running for the timber, whilst others
turned back towards me, and as they crossed at about a
hundred and fifty yards distance from me, I took a- snap-
shot at a moderate-sized stag, and heard the dull thud
of the bullet as it struck him.

After gralloching the two deer we had killed, we had
to spread some boughs and weeds over them, to keep off
the vultures, scores of which were coming up from all
directions, although, before we had fired not one had
been visible. Feeling sure of my wounded stags, I told
Williams he had better go to his house for a horse to
pack the venison on, whilst I took up the trail of the
deer.

He had scarcely left me five minutes when one of those
sudden thunder-storms came on, which now and then
visit Texas. Just where I stood, a large drop fell here
and there, whilst three hundred yards of it poured in
torrents, making a loud rattling sound as it pattered
against the leaves and trees. Scarcely a minute passed
but what there was a blinding flash of lightning, followed
by the crash of loud thunder. In a quarter of an hour,
except the drops upon the leaves, the moistened ground,
and a coolness in the air, not a sign remained of the

storm.

THE DEATH or THREE STAGS. 147

It was now useless to look for my deer, as the blood-
drops and “ sign ” had been washed away ; but Williams
had rightly guessed how it would be, and bringing an old
hound with him that, he said, “knew which side his
bread was buttered upon,” he put him on the scent, and
the forest soon echoed his deep bayings, as he owned the
trail, each of us running at our best pace, to keep as
near the old hound as we could, though. the creepers and
old vines made it tiresome work, and we very soon knew
he had the stag at bay.

We soon reached the hound and stag. The first, being
old and cunning, and having lost a good number of his
teeth, was content to face the antlers of the deer without
rushing in upon them, as a younger and less wary hound
would probably have done, and thereby have come to
grief. But our old stager knew that his master would
soon be up to his assistance, and so he was; for, next
moment a bullet from lVilliams’ rifle struck the very
centre of the deer’s forehead, and put him out of misery,
whilst an English death-halloo rang far through the
arches of the forest, perhaps for the first time, though
many an Indian shout of victory, many a scalp-whoop,
had roused the forest echoes around, not very many
years before, when the mounted Comanches met the
warlike Carankawas, and disputed with them the pos-
session of the hunting-grounds where my friend and I
now peacefully hunted.

148

CHAPTER XI.
A new AFTER DEER.

THE rude coracle of the ancient Britons is yet often used
upon the banks of the great prairie rivers, such as the
Arkansas, the Platte, and the Great Snake river.

Indian war-parties are very frequently stopped by
some broad and deep stream, upon whose banks grow no
trees large enough to make a boat, even if time allowed,
nor yet can they find suflicient wood to construct that
simplest of all water-craft,—a raft. Perhaps they are
loaded with plunder, snatched from some neighbouring
tribe or from some white settlement, and many of their
articles would be injured, or totally destroyed by contact
with the water. Or it may be a tribe moving from one
hunting-ground, where game has become scarce, to some
other range, where plenty of undisturbed game will for
a little time afford them abundance of food.

The women, the children, and all their little property,
have to be ferried from one bank to the other, and a boat
of some rude kind must be prepared from such materials
as are to be found. Two or three of the best hunters
are despatched in pursuit of buffalo ; and as soon as these
are found, a couple of the largest bulls are killed and their
hides stripped off. These are carried to the camp. Dur-
ing the absence of the hunters, some of the longest sap-
lings have been cut and stripped of their twigs, across
which other smaller sticks are lashed firmly with sinews.

A now AFTER DEER. 149

The transverse sticks are intended for the ribs of the
boat ; the saplings form the keel.

The framework has now the appearance of the skeleton
of some huge animal. The skins of the slain buffalo are
next sewn together, the seams being caulked with a pre-
paration of fat and charcoal. The frame is then placed
upon the hairy side of the hides; the ribs are bent up ;
the skins are drawn around the frame, and secured ; the
bullet or arrow-holes are plugged, and in the space of
three or four hours a rude craft is prepared, which will
bear ten or twelve women and children at each trip, in
safety.

Half a dozen of the “braves ” launch it upon the
water, the squaws and papooses take their seats, squatting
in the bottom of the frail craft. Now a couple of mounted
Indians plunge into the stream, and with the points of
their spears guide and steer it across.

The trip is repeated as often as necessary, and when
all are across the river, the boat is abandoned, and left
to decay upon the bank, or rot in the stream.

Arrived at the forest country, we find a variety of
canoes, from the simple hollowed log to the gaily deco-
rated birch-bark canoe, for the wood-ranger never has
recourse to skins for a canoe. Wood is abundant, and
he is well skilled in the knowledge. of trees and plants.
He knows when the bark will most readily unwrap itself
from the trunk, and this enables him to make the lightest
of all the boats which dance over the silvery waves.
The great American Wilderness is filled with trees, whose
bark can be appropriated to the manufacture of canoes ;

150 THE TEXAN RANGER.

the pecan and all the hickories, with the birch, grow
there in immense profusion.

A tree of one of these species, that presents a trunk
clear of limbs for fifteen or twenty feet, is selected.

" The boat-builder has nothing but his hunting-knife and

tomahawk for his implements. With the latter he girdles
the bark near the root of the tree; this done, he ascends
to the proper height, and there makes another girdle;
then taking his knife, he cuts a straight slip from the
upper girdle to the lower one, separating the edges from
the trunk. Ascending the tree again, he inserts his
knife-blade under the bark, and turning it up, soon
forces it back with his hand, until he can bring more
powerful levers to bear. Once well started, he will worm
his body between the bark and the trunk, and thus tear
it off, throwing it upon the ground like an immense
scroll.

First, the T088, or rough outside bark, is scraped off
until it is quite smooth; the scroll is then opened, and
the braces inserted, in order to give the proper width to
the gunwales of the canoe. Strong cord is then made
from the lime—tree, or hickory; the open ends of the bark
scroll are pressed together and fastened between clamps,
which are secured by the cord. If the canoe is only
intended for a temporary purpose, the clamps are left
on; but if the builder intends it for long service, the
ends are neatly sowed together, and the rude clamps
removed. The seams are caulked with the same prepara-
tion we have before mentioned for the skin-boat—a
mixture of fat (generally deer’s tallow) and pounded

A. 110w AFTER DEER. 151

charcoal. If pine trees are growing near, the resin is
sometimes added to the fat and charcoal. This fills
up the meshes of the seams, and the boat is ready for
launching.

This simple process produces the most beautiful model
of a boat that can be imagined. Art can neither embel-
lish the form, nor improve upon the simple mechanism of
the backwoods.

Every line in it is graceful; and its sharp bows, indeed,
seem almost designed to cleave the air as well as the
water,—so perfectly does it embrace every scientific requi-
site for overcoming the obstructions of the element over
' which it is destined to move.

In these apparently frail machines, the red man, aided
by only a single paddle, will thread the quiet brook or the
deep, strong-running river, speed over the glassy lake
like a swan, and shoot through the foaming rapids as
sportively as a trout; and when the storm rages, and
throws the waves about in angry wrath, and the lurid
clouds seem filled with molten fire, the Indian can be
seen, like a spirit of the storm, at one moment standing
erect, and cut in bold relief against the lightning-riven
sky, the next, disappearing in the watery gulf; rivalling
the gull in the gracefulness of his movements, and re-
joicing, like the petrel, in the elemental war.

The great cotton-wood tree (Populus angulata), from
the ease with which it can be worked, is often made
into the simple piragua, or “ dug-out.” Chopping the
rough log into the shape the builder fancies, he next cuts
out the interior 5 and frequently one of these rude “ dug-

 

 

152 THE TEXAN RANGER.

outs” is made in a couple of hours. The softness of the
wood, however, which makes them so easily formed, ren-
ders them in a short time worthless, as they absorb so
much water that they become water-logged. The black
walnut, which grows so abundantly all over Texas, makes
the most durable of all the “dug-outs.” I assisted to
capture one which was brought down by a freshet in the
Colorado River. It was not only the largest, but it
was the most beautifully finished, of all I had ever seen.
The interior had been burnt out, whilst the outside had
been most carefully carved above the water-line. Below
this, it had been scraped as smooth as glass.

It would not appear, at the first glance, a very easy
thing to burn out the superfluous wood from a “dug-
out; ” yet it can be beautifully done, if proper care is
taken. It must be incessantly watched, to prevent the
fire approaching too near the sides, or stern, or prow;
and when enough has been burnt in any direction, the
part intended to be left is wetted.

If the piragua I helped to “ fish ” out of the swollen
Colorado was the largest and best, I think the very
worst was the first I ever trusted myself in.

I was, soon after my first arrival in Texas, hunting
upon the banks of Turtle Bayou Bay. The bay itself
was a beautiful and broad piece of water, though rather
shallow; but the stream that fed it, and from which it
derived its name, Turtle Bayou, was a broad, deep, clear,
though sluggish stream, the banks on either side being
heavily wooded. On the banks of the creek, about

hree miles from the bay, lived a man of the name

A ROW AFTER DEER. 153

of Smith, though nobody ever called him anything
but “Turkey Smith,” from his skill in hunting these
birds.

My host, Peter Robinson, who kept a store on the
bluff bank above, where the Bayou’s waters discharged
themselves into the bay, and who had been kind enough
to invite me to pay him a visit, my only claim being,
that I was a stranger and in a strange land—but that’s
the rule with the hospitable Texans, whose hearts are as
warm as their climate—spoke highly of Smith’s skill as
a hunter, especially of the bird after which he was nick-
named, though he could not say anything else in his

favour; for “Turkey Smith” was too lazy to fence in
any land and cultivate it for the support of his family,
though thousands of acres of good land surrounded him.
He relied solely upon his rifle, to feed his half-clothed
wife and dirty children. Their clothes he obtained from
my friend Peter Robinson, in exchange for feathers and
peltries ; and in the same manner he obtained his powder
and shot.

In the winter he sometimes managed to sell a “ dug-
out” load of small game or wild fowl, or the carcases of
a few deer, to the chance steamboats which came up the
bay after the cotton or sugar crops, but the bright dollars
or flimsy “ shin-plaisters ” soon found their way to the
pockets of the “grocery keeper,” for “Turkey Smith”
loved whisky as dearly as a bear loves honey.

Armed with a plug of tobacco and a gourd of whisky,
I started out one beautiful morning to make the ac—
quaintance of this turkey slayer, Peter telling me that I

 

1541 THE TEXAN RANGER.

had only to produce my gourd and invite “Turkey ” to
“smile,” and to let him borrow a slice of my tobacco
plug, to make him my sworn friend for ever.

After about an hour’s walk up the banks of the creek,
through the forest, I heard the voices of some children
on the opposite side of the stream; and, looking in that
direction, I could see smoke rising out of a thicket, or
over one, for the shanty was not visible; and judging
this to be “ Turkey Smith’s,” I called out as loud as I
could.

Five minutes might have elapsed since my shout,
during which time “Turkey” was probably pulling on
his clothes, for I had made a very early start, and I was
about to call again, when a man appeared on the opposite
side, and asked me my business. This was soon ex-
plained; and “Turkey Smith,” stepping upon what I
had hitherto taken to be an old log floating near the
opposite bank, seized a paddle, and, with twenty or
thirty strokes, propelled his log across—for a log it
was, rather than a boat.

The trunk of an old cypress, which he had probably
found floating about in the Bayou, had been rudely hol-
lowed out with an axe, but the outside remained precisely
as it had been found. No attempt had been made to
give sharpness to the bow or squareness to the stern. I
had not much time to contemplate the “ dug-out ;” my
attention was attracted by Turkey Smith himself. Al-
though not very clean, he was not a bad-looking fellow—
tall, thin, but muscular. It was his dress, rather than
his person, which made a foreigner stare.

A BOW AFTER DEER. 155

His head was thatched with some of the leaves of the
palmetto, split and plaited; his jean hunting-shirt was
fringed beautifully by the briar brakes, through which he
was constantly forcing his way; his breeches were made

of undressed deer-skin. At first they had probably been .

made of the proper length of trousers ; but the frequent
wettings to which they had been exposed, and the dry-
ing qualities of the sun, had, imperceptibly to their
owner, shortened them to breeches.

A few years ago, breaches of this sort were not at all
uncommon in Texas: perhaps the late war, and the
greater scarcity of manufactured goods there, may have
revived the fashion. It was not without some hesitation
that I stepped into—or, more properly speaking, on to—
the log, for at that time I could not swim, and I knew
that if we were upset, I should be certain to lose my
gun; because if it once sank in that deep creek, the soft
blue mud at the bottom would conceal it for ever.

However, we reached the opposite side without ac-
cident.

A large, rudely constructed shed, boarded in upon the
northern side, was the shanty. Upon a close examina-
tion, it appeared that this shed was the common dwel-
ling-place of both humans, pigs, and poultry.

-Mrs. Smith, thrusting aside a blanket which, stretched
across the shed, served to divide it into two divisions—~—
you could not call them rooms—showed herself: a poor,
sickly—looking woman, reduced almost to a skeleton by
bad living, and the ague. Two sunburnt, shock—headed
children peeped shyly under the edge of the blanket;

 

 

156 THE TEXAN RANGER.

and the elder, having satisfied himself by a good stare,
remarked aloud, “He ain’t a Injun!” and came for-
ward.

I had brought both the Whisky and the tobacco for
“ Turkey Smith,” but I was rather surprised at the cool
way in which he appropriated it, as soon as he was asked
to take a drink. First, he poured out a tin cupful of
the raw spirit, and tossed it off without winking, though
the fiery spirit would have choked most men, taken in
such a quantity. Then he poured out a more moderate
dose for his wife: and when she had swallowed it, he
gave the two little urchins a dram each, undiluted ; and
lastly, as if to assure himself that he had not poisoned
his family, he tested it again by a second cup, filled up
to the brim like the first. As soon as he had fortified
himself against any danger of “chill and fever,” so far
as whisky would do it, he inquired, “\Vhat might be
your pleasure ? ”

I told him that I had but lately landed in Texas, and
that, having heard of his skill in woodcraft, I had come
to ask him to allow me to accompany him to the woods,
as perhaps I might learn something from so good a hun-
ter as he was said to be.

“ \Vell, we’re out of meat, that ar’ a fact,” said
Turkey, “ and I’m bound to get some this morning right
away, so ef you’ve a mind to go along, you can.”

“Turkey Smith” took down from the wooden pegs
upon which it rested, a long-barrelled, small-bore rifle,
and carefully wiped it out, and then as carefully loaded
it, patching his bullet with a piece of greasy cloth

A ROW AFTER DEER. 157

7:? whilst the charge of powder was determined by pouring

i it over the bullet till the latter was covered; that being,

‘3 according to backwoodsmen, the correct charge.

“ You’d best tote the gourd along, stranger : we mout

; get dry afore we get home agin,” said Turkey, when all

‘ these little matters had been attended to.

“Are you going to cross the creek again, Mr. Smith ?’
I inquired, as I saw Turkey lead the way down the bluff
bank.

“ Sartain, but not right away, thar’s a Bayou runs into
this crik about half a mile above, and I guess we’ll get
above the mouth of that, ’case I have not disturbed
those woods in a ’coon’s age, and will get meat thar I
allow.”

Again I took my seat in the bow—if it could be called
one—and Turkey, sitting at the other end, used the
paddle.

If “Turkey Smith” was a good hand at killing the
wary bird from which he derived his nickname, or if he
could imbibe raw whisky by the half-pint without
winking, he was equally well able to ply the paddle.
The creek was as smooth and still as a burnished mirror,
and equally well did it give back the imagery of the
crowded banks, the brown gnarled stems of the live
oaks, the dark green feathery boughs of the cypresses,
and the rope-like creeping parasitical plants, which
linked tree to tree with their delicate tendrils.

After Turkey had dipped his paddle once into the
stream, he did not again remove it, but impelled the
“ dug-out” by a motion of the hand, which pressed the

 

158 THE TEXAN RANGER.

broad blade against the water; whilst it was carried
forward by a twist of the wrist, that made the edge of
the blade cut through the element like a knife; and he
steered, by pressing the handle hard against the side of
the boat if he wanted to go to the left, or hard back
against the water if he wanted to head in the other
direction. However, so skilfully did he manage, that
the “ dug-out” seemed to be stationary; whilst gnarled
tree-trunks, graceful branches, and the delicate tracery of
the vine ropes, seemed to dance past us in a weird-like
manner.

For twenty minutes or so we floated on and on, until
we passed the mouth of the Bayou, when the“ dug-ou ”
was turned towards the bank. As soon as it touched,
I jumped out, taking the mooring rope in my hand,
which I made fast to a young sapling, and was immedi-
ately joined by “ Tm‘key Smith.”

“This Bayou spreads out into a right smart lake up
above here,” said Smith; “it’s a matter of three miles
across it, and it’s at least five long, afore it lessens down
into a Bayou again. We’ll go together to the lake, and
you can skirt it with your pop-gun, 'and maybe you’ll
pick up some small trash, whilst I’ll turn into the woods
to look for meat.”

This was not a very complimentary speech; but I
made no remark, and followed Smith as he strode
through the woods, following the bank of the Bayou. A
short walk took us to the beginning of the lake; but
before we walked out fully from the cover of the under-
brush, Smith, with the caution of the American back-

A ROW AFTER DEER. 159

Woodsman, carefully scanned the lake, the margin, and a.
small island in the‘lake. The island was a mere mud-
bank, which at low water in the summer was left bare,
except a few flags, rushes, wild rice, and other aquatic
plants that grew upon and around it. For some time
his eye swept the green and tufted surface of the morass
in vain, but just as he was about to abandon his search,
something which looked like two bare branches of bush
rose and fell.

“I was a’most sure there was deer on that bank of
mud and flags,” said Smith ; “they get thar to get out of
the way of the flies and ’skeeters. N ow we’ll have that
buck, if you’ll mind what I say.”

I promised to do everything he Wished, to the best of
my ability.

“\Vell, you see the ripples break on this bank, so
we shan’t get scented. Now, you must make off through
the brush for that p’int where the big willow is, and,
if you can get behind it, I expect the deer’ll make for
that p’int, as soon as they wind me. I’m going back
for the canoe, then I shall work round heraway,” and he
pointed to the other side of the island; “if I can get a
shot on the island, well and good; if not, I shall drive
them this way towards you, and I shall most likely even
then catch one, for a deer can’t swim as fast as I can
‘ paddle—leastways, we shall have them atweenus. I hope
you understand me, stranger? ”

5‘ I think I do,” I replied ; “you mean to work to wind.
ward of the deer, so as to drive them to me, supposing
you can’t get a shot before they scent you.”

 

 

160 THE TEMN RANGER.

“That’s about it. Now, you go down, right ahead to
the lake shore by the big willow; but don’t step out
beyond the cover, ’till ye’ve heerd me shoot, or else yell;
then show out like a man, if you see you can head them
back to me, when I can give an account of ’em, or else
keep close, so as to get a shot for yourself—-—allus recol-
lecting as meat’s meat, and I want some for home.”

As I had only about half a mile to go, whilst “ Turkey
Smith” had fully four miles to travel, what with getting
the canoe and returning to the island, I strolled leisurely
through the brush, every now and then pausing to notice
whether I could see any movement on the sedgy bank ;
but all was so still, no one would have supposed that
either bird or beast was upon it. At last, I reached the
willow , and the island being fully three-quarters, or
perhaps a whole mile from me, and the breeze was blow-
ing from it to me, I lighted my pipe, as there was no
danger of the fumes doing any injury to our sport.

In about an hour’s time, and just as I had knocked out
the ashes from my second pipe, I noticed Turkey’s canoe
stealing up towards the island—his skill in paddling
standing him in good stead now, for he glided as silently
as a ghost over the water.

It was in vain that Turkey noiselessly placed his paddle
in the canoe, and standing erect, with his ready rifle in
his hand, keenly searched for, either antlers, or the great
brown carcase of the stag he had seen, or of the others
he supposed to be in its company, for the tall reeds
would have hidden a three-year-old colt.

All at once, however, he heard the reeds rustling, and

A ROW AFTER DEER. 161

then a confused noise of floundering and splashing, as
three good bucks bounded out of the jungle into the
morass. “Turkey Smith” was too good a hunter to
attempt to cross the island in pursuit, in the vain hope
of getting a shot at the plunging deer. He, therefore,
quietly sank back in the canoe, gathered up his paddle
in his left hand, cocked his rifle, and laid it within easy
reach of his right—unsheathed his knife, and placed it
ready at the bottom of the canoe, and then plied the
paddle vigorously in pursuit.

All the varieties of the deer tribe are powerful swim-
mers, and are capable of supporting themselves for a very
long time in the water ; yet, owing to their slender legs,
and the small spread of their hoofs, none of them can
swim fast.

As long as they could touch bottom, they made good
head-way by a succession of stupendous bounds, sinking
each time nearly to their withers ; and then raising
themselves completely out of the water and mud, almost
to their own height, the mingled mud and water flew
high into the air.

A few bounds, however, served to carry them into
swimming depth, and then their progress was compara-
tively slow, and “ Turkey’s ” canoe, which by this time
had rounded the isle, began to gain rapidly.

As I saw that the deer were coming directly towards
my place of concealment, behind the big willow, I deter-
. mined to remain there quietly, for I perceived that “ Tur-
key” could easily come up with his game before it reached
me, for the deer, when the canoe rounded the island,

 

162 THE TEXAN RANGER.

had a 'clear start of fully three hundred yards. But
before double that distance had been passed, the boat
had gained upon them at least one hundred yards, so
that by the time they reached me, “Turkey” could be as
close to them as he pleased.

As the canoe crept nearer and nearer to the game, I
was much puzzled by the silence of “ Turkey’s ”rifle ; be-
cause, for a long time he had been quite near enough
to fire with effect, not being more than twenty paces
from the hindmost deer. Just as the first stag, which
was leading by thirty yards, took ground in front, he raised
his forequarters high out of the water, and at the self-
same instant“ Turkey Smith’s ” rifle sent its bullet true
for the spinal cord, between the shoulders, and the stag
rolled forward into shallow water—dead. Dropping his
rifle as soon as discharged, “Turkey” seized his paddle and
forced his canoe level with the last deer. There was not
an instant to spare—another moment, and the deer
would have been safe from him; but “Turkey” was too
cunning, and too good a hunter to make any mistake as to
time, where he had so well calculated all the chances:
and just as the last deer touched bottom, the paddle of
the hunter crashed down between the antlers, and crushed
the skull as though it had been a gourd rind.

“ Now, then, stranger,” he shouted to me. “ Now,
then, give that thar other deer, both your barrels. \Vell
done! well done! If that wasn’t well done,—darn old
Roper.”

The middle deer had landed within fifty yards of the
big willow, and then terrified by the shouting and yell-

A now AFTER DEER. 163

ing behind him, he plunged on straight for my place of
concealment—so close did he come, that the muzzle of
my gun was not two feet from him when I pressed the
trigger, and the load of buckshot smashed in a body
through his brain.

“Lord sakes, stranger, that little pop- gun of yours
has made a hole, I guess.”

The deer were all three placed in the canoe, and their
weight sank it almost to a level with the water. I was
asked to take my seat, but refused, and walked to the
mouth of the Bayou. Here I was obliged to be ferried,
and took my seat in fear and trembling; but the little
craft bore me safely across, and I then walked home to
Peter Robinson’s.

That evening, “Turkey ” brought down in the “ dug-
out” one of the deer, as my share of the hunt; and to my
question of why he did not shoot earlier, he replied——

“If I had bloodied the water far from shore, I guess
the deer being in the red, might have sunk, and then
the alligators would have claimed their share, and I didn’t
mean them to have any.”

The boat is often used thus as an aid by the hunter ,—
deer, moose, and cariboo are frequently killed from it 5

but the only instance in which it is said to have been used ‘

for bufihlo shooting, was on the Yellow Stone, at the
time of Lewis and Clarke’s exploration of that wild
egio n.

 

164;

CHAPTER XII.
THE BISON.

ONCE—though many, many years ago—the bison roamed
over nearly all North America ; to-day, save one or two
in menageries, there are none east of the llIississippi.

As civilization has advanced they have receded, until
now they are only to be found on those vast western
prairies,which stretch to the foot of the Rocky Mountains,
and also on the plains on the Pacific-side of the “ great
backbone” of America.

The bison is never thus named on the prairies ; he is
always called the bufalo ; and as he is more familiar to
me under the latter name, I shall speak of him as I have
been accustomed to do.

Each year the bisons are thinning, as the adventurous
white man invades their haunts. Although the red man’s
savage thirst for blood decimated the herds, this was of
comparatively little importance, so long as their range
was unlimited; but the settlement of the states west of
the Ohio and Mississippi, and the colonization of Texas
—their favourite winter home—has deprived them of
much of their ancient pasture ground.

Besides, the white trappers and hunters, with as in-
vincible courage, and far greater resources than the
Indian, have followed the buffalo over the “ grassy seas ”
as ruthlessly as bloodhounds; for although it was right

THE BISON. 165

enough to kill them as food, yet neither whites nor reds,
when their blood was up in the excitement of the “ run,”
have often paused whena sufficiency has been obtained,
but have continued to slay, untila heap of wasted meat,
enough to feed a town, and a sacrifice of innocent life,
has hardly then gratified their instincts of destruction.

Since steam has reduced the passage across the At-
lantic to a period of a few days instead of as many
weeks, the sportsman from the Old World has often paid
a Visit to the plains ; though, truth to say, their suprcmest
qforts have not done much harm to the bisons, nor any-
thing else. The hunter, as Ibelieve I have stated in a
previous chapter, differs as much from a sporz‘smcm, as
a regular, from a yeoman cavalry trooper; the first relies
upon his trained senses, the latter upon his trained dogs.
American woodcraft is not to be learned in afew months,
but requires the training of years.

“You are green in b’ar hunting,” said an old bear
hunter to a tyro, in a commiserating tone; “green as a
jimson weed (James Town weed) ; but don’t get short- *
winded ’bout it, ’case it’s a thing, like reapin’, to be larnt.
A man don’t come it parfectly at once, like a dog does ;
and as for that, they larn a heap in time; thar is a
greater difference ’tween a pup and an old dog in a b’ar
hunt, than thar is ’tween a militia man and a reg’ler. I
remember when I couldn’t h’ar 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 couldn’t do it if you was

narvious.”

 

166 THE rrxw RANGER.

I asked him if he meant by that ague and fever.

He said it was the agee without the fever.

“ Thar may be such a thing as narvious, stranger ; but
nothing ’cept a yarth—quake or the agee can shake me;
and still b’ar hunting ain’t as easy as skeering a Wild
turkey,—by a long shot.”

Before describing the buffalo, I must say a few words
about his home.

Just as no painter can paint a prairie, so no writer can
describe one. Even the traveller who has crossed the
Atlantic, when he stands for the first time upon the edge
of a prairie, fails to comprehend its extent : this can only
be understood after days have been passed in the
saddle.

At first sight a mile or two, or perhaps a dozen miles
of grass are seen, just as the ground is rolling or flat;
but after riding day after day—the horizon presenting
the same green line—the traveller at last begins to un-
derstand the immensity of a prairie. For miles, the
prairies are frequently intersected by great chasms, or
canons ; now and then small streams are seen, fringed with
. perhaps a few cotton-wood trees (populus ngzclam), or
a sickly growth of small shrubs ; and often the large
rivers, such as the Kansas and the Arkansas, traverse
the prairies for miles, with no timber growing upon their
banks large enough to make a walking stick.

On these natural meadows the buffalo feeds, and here
he is hunted.

A first sight the buffalo presents a singular appear-
ance, the smooth hind parts contrasting strangely with

THE BISON. 167

the shaggy fore-quarters and great shoulder-hump, for
the long beards and manes of the bulls are often more
than a foot in length, under which is concealed short
curly wool.

Nor are their motions less singular. Shaking their
ragged heads, with tail on end, they dash off" with a
rolling gait, that has something comical in it; but on
a nearer examination, you discover their vast power, and
the sullen fury of their blood-shot eyes, scarcely visible
through the heavy mane; the earth shakes under their
tread, their hoofs plough the prairie sod, throwing up
clouds of dust, their deep bellowings roll like dull, dis-
tant thunder, whilst their froth speckles the mane and
dewlap. Then, as you close in with the animal you have
selected as your prize, his huge proportions tower over
you like a mountain.

The red man scours over the prairies in pursuit of the
buffalo, enjoying, as he imagines, a foretaste of those
“ happy hunting-grounds ” which he believes will be his,
after death. To the Indian, the buffalo-hunt is second
only to the war-path, and here the skill and courage of
the young warrior is closely criticised by the more ex-
perienced chiefs.

“Te will take a “fall” morning and a small band of
warriors, and describe a “run ” at bufi‘alo.

The wild mustangs, with floating manes and tails, are
stripped for the “run.” Beyond the weight of their
wilder masters, they scarcely carry a couple of pounds
of harness. On many, except the lasso on their necks,
which trails at length behind them, they have neither

168 THE TEXAN RANGER.

saddle or bridle. These are trained bufialo horses, so
well broken that the pressure of their rider’s leg or the
twang of his bow, is sufficient to make them sheer from
the wounded quarry in an instant; on others, less ac.-
customed to the chase, a thin plaited hair cord, not
thicker than a lady’s watch-guard, is fastened round the
lower jaw, and this simple bridle is sufficient to throw
the horse upon his haunches.

The Indians are scarcely less naked than their steeds
-—-an eagle’s or flamingo’s feather flutters from each scalp
look; a cloth or skin around the loins; a quiver of care-
fully made arrows slung across the back 5 and a bow in
the left hand, completes their equipment.

All are ready by the time the fiery sun rises over the
horizon; before them, on either hand, and to the front,
stretches a vast prairie; beneath their feet the horses
crush hundreds of gaudy, many-coloured flowers, whilst
the whole prairie looks a bright variegated carpet.

The long, slanting, almost horizontal rays of the sun,
make the dewdrops glitter like diamonds for a short
time, though they soon vanish under their power.

Afar off the buffalo are feeding; their long, dark lines
cut sharp against the sky, whilst the nearer animals
blacken the plain; some in play, others in earnest, are
rushing on each other’s horns With a force that frequently
sends both antagonists upon their haunches. In the
midst of the band feed the cows and calves, while the
outer edge is occupied by the bulls, which, putting their
mouths to the ground, occasionally give vent to a roar
that rumbles in the distance like thunder, Whilst some

THE BISON. 169

of the more playful gore the earth with their horns,
throwing the tussocks of grass and dust high into the air.
They drink in the balmy morning breeze, they revel in
the new-felt warmth, in the full happiness of animal en-
joyment, and little do they dream that their savage, un-
relenting pursuers are closing round them.

As to the Indians themselves, the field of honour, only
second to the war-path, is before them. Some of the
youngest can scarcely conceal their excitement, which, as
aspirants to the rank of warriors and hunters, it ill be-
comes them to betray. Others, whose ill-success or want
of skill in the last “run,”
being condemned to “bring in wood with the women,”

and who came very nearly

have their characters to retrieve, and the rest- have to
sustain their high repute, but all are animated with an
eager thirst for slaughter, to smell the blood, and see
the huge animals go down in the dust before their
prowess.

Some of the band have started an hour or two pre-
vious, to outflank the herd,—for it is well known that as
soon as the buffalo snifi’s “the tainted gale,” they will,
panic stricken, rush off, with the wind, towards their
foes.

At last, on either flank, there is a movement in the
herd. They evidently suspect danger, and huddling up
together, as if undecided which course to take, they seem
to consult.

This does not last more than a second or two. The
taint has come down the wind, and this decides them;
down flag wind they too fly.

170 THE TEXAN RANGER.

In the rear, with their long, feather-decked scalp-locks
floating in the breeze, the Indian scouts, yelling the war-
cry of their tribe, dash after the retreating herd, which
is presently met by the main body of hunters, who, in
expectation of this result, have remained so far con-
cealed. And now begins the hurly-burly of the chase;
the buffaloes scatter in all directions over the prairie, and
Lhe warriors, selecting their victims, plunge madly in
pursuit, whooping and yelling like demons. N ow is the
time for the young warriors to prove their skill, and for
the elder ones to maintain their reputation.

There goes a middle-aged warrior. He is in the prime
of life; the muscles stand out on arms and shoulders, as
though carved, so distinctly do they show. The long,
flowing mane of his horse mingles, as he bends for—
ward, with his scalp—lock. Just before, is plunging
along a monster bull, one of the lords of the herd; the
great head and shaggy hair shaking as he flounders on;
still the warrior gains a little at each stride of his mus-
tang. Now they are running side by side, the hunter on
the right side of his huge game. He fits an arrow to
his sinew-braced bow, draws the arrow to the head, and
sends it home through the heart of the buffalo.

The instant the arrow escaped his hand, his left leg
has been pressed to his steed’s side; the instant the bow
twanged, the game little horse he is riding has cocked
his left ear, and both the pressure and the twang have
been answered by the horse sheering ofi” hard to the
right, like lightning—but in this instance there is no
charge to avoid, for, with the blood gushing from mouth

\

t’ 3 H, H , __

THE BISON. 171

and nostrils, the bull has fallen heavily to the earth. A
long, joyous whoop, ending with a prolonged quaver
sounding like how-how-poo-oo-oo-ah, gives token of suc-
cess, and closing both legs to his horse, the hunter
starts off to select another victim. As to the already-
killed beast, he has no care for that; the peculiar
feathering and staining of his arrow will attest by which
chief it fell, and when the disgusting labours of the
squaws commence, each will select her husband’s game,
as readily as a whalesman would pick out his peculiar
prize by its little “ whift ” at sea.

After the women, who have followed the hunters like
wolves, have finished the skinning of the slain; after
they have taken the tongues, humps, and marrow-bones,
they deliver to their owners the arrows which they have
taken from the dead buffaloes. If it has taken two
shafts to kill the same animal; or if any are wanted,
which have been shot and missed their aim, and lost in
the prairie grass; or if any have been carried away in
mere flesh-wounds, the unsuccessful hunter is jeered and
laughed at till he is glad to hide himself.

Yonder gallops a youth in pursuit of an immense
bull ; his light weight and his good mount enable him to
come up with his quarry, “ hand over hand.” It is, per-
haps, his first “buffalo run ;” he knows well the theory
from the fireside “talks ” of the chiefs. Unfortunately
practice is now requisite. His tawny cheek is flushed
with excitement, but his arms are small and round,
showing a lack of muscle.

He, too, draws his arrow to the head, but either from

172 THE TEXAN RANGER.

excitement, or want of skill or force, the arrow glances
from a rib, runs up under the skin, and there swings
with every motion of the great game. Another arrow
is fitted to the bow. This time it is shot too far back,
and'the bull goes on all the same—all the same as to his
gallop, but not all the same as to his eye. The first
sting of the shaft made the bull’s eyes slightly bloodshot
from rage, the second has made them like globes of
blood. He means mischief now, and it behoves his foe
to be on his guard.

The youth, irritated by his want of skill, presses on.
A third arrow is launched at the bull, and no quicker
was it forced from the bow, than does the bison turn
upon his pursuer. \Vell is it for the youthful brave that
his horse is accustomed to the business, though his rider
is not. The good steed turns on his heels as on a pivot,
and shooting across the bufi‘alo’s haunches, has saved
both himself and his master. The youth has gained no
laurels in this chase. He has wasted three arrows, and
nearly had his horse killed under him ; perhaps was
nearly being killed himself. The squaws will laugh at
him ; he almost wishes he had been destroyed.

Here goes a far different “ brave,” iis hair is white,
the arms and legs look thin and wasted, his leggings
are fringed with many scalps, taken by him from foeznen
of various tribes. He has little to learn, either in the
chase or in the war-path: his eye, though bright, is cold,
and hard, and expressionless ; his mouth is a mere line.
However, there is no want of real power in those shrunk
limbs; the muscles under that wizened skin are like

THE BISON. 173

steel wire. He, too, fits an arrow to the bow, which he
draws back till both ends nearly touch, and lets it slip at
a monster bull. The flint-headed arrow splits its way
through rib, through heart, and out through the hide on
the farther side—a rifle bullet would have stOpped mid-
way—a torrent of blood'spouts from the bull’s mouth,
and he topples over’on the prairie—dead.

Again: there gallop two monster bisons, the masters
of the herd; behind, following closely, are two hunters
—0ne’s silvery hair and shrinking limbs show also that
he is an old man; the other is in the full vigour of his
first prime. On, on they press ; the younger, afraid the
older warrior should get the first shot, urges his horse to
speed by pressing his heels to his flanks, he fixes his
arrow to his bow, and in his excitement only wounds the
bull. The elder has perceived it; he has read all that
was passing in his youthful rival’s mind, he places his
arrow on the cord, the tough 2201's (Z’arc bow-points are
scarce six inches from each other, his bull rolls dead be-
side hiin ; his glazed expressionless eye has lightened for
a moment—only for a moment—and a yell of taunting
derision directed at the other, gives token of his skill.

The other, goaded by his rival’s shout, presses too near
the wounded bufihlo, which, turning at right angles in his
stride, throws up both “the horse and his rider.” The
Indian, with the speed of thought, disengages himself
from his dying steed, and bending his bow, sends an
arrow with better success at his enemy, which plunging
forward from his death wound, falls at his very feet.

This chief has won no fame—he has shot one arrow

1’74 THE TEXAN RANGER.

in vain, and, far worse, had his horse killed under him;
the old man, too, whose criticism he dreads, has looked
on with passionless face, but he has none the less keenly
marked everything as it occurred.

Sweeping by these last, another bull rushes like a whirl-
wind, with an Indian at its side—his bow is in his right
hand, the left is empty. All at once he leans down
along his horse’s side; when he rises again a bloody
arrow is in his hand ; he has torn it from the side of the
flying beast, and fixing it to the string of his bow, with
a better directed effort he brings down the chased.

The “run” has now lasted a couple of hours, and
the warriors are returning; their work is at an end.
The sguaws, who have been hovering near, now present
themselves to skin and gather the meat—only the choice
pieces are selected, and when this is done they leave
the rest to the scavengers of the prairie, the coyotes
(prairie wolves) and the buzzards. The Indian maiden
is not amongst the “ spoilers of the slain ;” her slavery
only commences with married life.

But the gay carpeted prairie, with its thousands of
flowers—those gem-decked flowers which so short a time
ago sparkled in the morning’s sun,have vanished, trodden
out by pursuers and pursued; the fresh and beautiful
prairie—the prairie on which so much innocent life
disported so short atime ago, is now torn up, reddened
with blood and covered with great carcases, over which
the wolves fight, and on which the vultures gorge them-
selves till they are helpless for flight.

We will now glance at a “run” by white hunters,

THE BISON. 1’75

although it is much the same in its results as the red
man’s.

It is now a dozen years since I was at Fort Parker,
a frontier post on the head-waters of the Rio Navisoto,
in Texas. Colonel Cr , an oflicer in the United
States Army, was the commandant. On the second morn-
ing after my arrival at the fort we had a “run ” at the
buffalo, Colonel Gr kindly placing at my disposal one
of his own “trained buffalo horses,” as my own, from
several days’ continuous travel, was not fit for such
exertion. A brighter spring morning could not be
imagined—although all spring mornings in Texas are
beautiful—than was the one upon which five of us
sallied out for our hunt. The colonel was armed with a
Sharp’s breech-loading rifle (then just invented); two of
his officers, Lieutenants S and 1t~—-, had their great
“six shooters,” as Colt’s pistols were always called, for
at that time Colonel Colt’s weapons were always used by
the army, and thus a “ six shooter ” invariably implied
one of his make.

Since then, there have been scores of inventions, but
none, in my opinion, are equal to his—nous revenons
tozgjom’s (2 nos premiers amours. Green, a hunter at-
tached to the fort, had his inseparable companion, a long
Kentucky rifle, whilst I stuck to a very old friend, a short
fourteen guage shot gun, loaded with a well-patched ball
in each barrel, With several loose bullets in my pocket,
and these, by just putting them in my mouth for a
moment, could be easily sent home in the barrel even at
full gallop.

 

 

 

176 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Thus equipped we gaily started, our horses crushing
thousands of wild flowers under their feet—the deer and
antelope bounding away as we approached, though they
might have safely stood their ground—we were not bent
on hunting such small game as they. Over the short
grass where the flowers grew, from which the disturbed
bees flitted quickly away, through the sloughs where the
reeds and flags reached to our knees, and then again
through the long waving grass, which had escaped last
year’s “ burn,” and which was nearly breast high to our
horses, we rode joyously on. Even our very horses knew
that some sport was to the fore, for they shook their long
manes and tails, pricked up their ears, and snorting every
now and then, caracoled in the full enjoyment of health
and devilment.

Far off in the air were wheeling, in immense circles, 23
score or two; of turkey buzzards, looking like great
blue-bottle flies in the distance, as they every now and
then crossed a fleecy cloud, whose snowy whiteness con-
trasted strongly with the generally deep blue sky. “ This
cloud betokens wind,” the hunter Green remarked, and
no doubt there are buffaloes below where the voracious
carrion birds are wheeling.

After half an hour’s ride, we rose “a prairie swell,”
an undulation of the plain, from which we could see,
a long way 011", the dark moving masses of the buffalo,
the diminishing forms of those on the further skirt
looking no larger than wolves. lVe had so far ridden
south from Fort Parker, and a brisk south-easterly
breeze was blowing ; it was just possible that by riding

THE BISON. 177

straight on we might approach the herds undiscovered,
until within a fair distance for charging; but neither
Green nor the Colonel felt inclined to leave anything to
chance, for should the wind shift round more to the
southward—an improbable, though not impossible occur-
rence—the buffalo might get our wind, and leave us with
such a start that we could not hope to get upon terms
with them.

“That cloud thar betokens wind,” said Green, “as I
tells you; but it won’t come on much afore night, I
allow—and then it’ll come from the norrard ; still, I guess,
we had better fall back, get below the ‘ swell,’ and ride
round ’em to the westward. “Then we make our bulge
at ’em, a goodish lot will make their way towards the fort,
and we’ll then dash at them—it’ll be all the handier to
get the meat in, I allow.”

This advice was agreed to, and falling back, we soon
got out of View of even the quickest-sighted of the
herd—though the buffalo depends more upon smell than.
any other sense, for its safety. Three quarters of an
hour’s riding brought us to the proper spot for charging,

and here each man dismounted, looked to the girths of '

his saddle, took up his stirrups a hole or two, loosed
the buck-skin thong which served as a curb to his bridle-~
bit, tied his broad-leaved sombrero to the saddle, as the-
rim might flap in his eyes, and in its place he bound.
round his brows a handkerchief, every one, at the same
time, carefully inspecting his arms.

“Are you all ready ? ” said the Colonel.

“ All right,” we replied.
12

 

 

17 8 THE TEXAN RANGER.

“ Then dash right at the lower side of them, and start
them towards home as well as you can.”

‘Ve had covered three or four hundred yards, before
we were perceived by the animals, but the moment we
discovered that we were seen, we went right at them,
shouting our best.

To those who have only read about bufl‘alo hunting,
it may seem a very easy thing to single out one, and ride
it out from the rest of the herd. But it is not so easily
done when it comes to the trial, for the animals, in their
terror, seek company ; besides, it is almost impossible to
turn a buffalo, and it is out of the question to make a herd
change its course. No noise will do it, as the thunder
of their gallop drowns all minor sounds, and it must be
a prairie fire or a “ motte ” which can make them open
their ranks.

On the march of the United States troops to Utah,
eight or nine years ago, to bring Dir. Brigham Young,
the h’Iormon prophet, to his senses, the army had upon
one occasion to open fire upon a herd of bison with their
cannon; and it was not till lane after lane had been cut
in the advancing host, that they could be prevented from
trampling the troops under foot. Our object now was
for each to ride a cow out from the herd, shoot her, and
then press on after another ; and as each of us knew, or
was supposed to know his business, we went at our game
with a rush.

“ Gro it!” shouted the colonel, as he singled out a
two-year-old cow, and tried to separate it from the
crowd.

THE BISON. 1'79

1

“Pitch in, they’re all a-boiling,’ shrieked Green, as
he ran slightly ahead of a young bull, and throwing his
horse on to his haunches, he raised his long rifle to his
shoulder, and sent down the bull in a cloud of dust.

The dull rumbling sound of the earth, as it trembled
under the hoofs of the buffaloes; the clouds of dust that
whirled up like the smoke of battle; the sharp crack of
the pistol shots, as the two “subs ” peppered away,
afforded little opportunity to see what my companions
were about; though, that they were busy plying their
instruments of death, I was well aware; but it was now
time for me to look to myself.

I have before said that mine was a “trained buffalo
horse,” 73. 6., a horse used to their pursuit, and although
at that time I had not killed many buffaloes, still I had
had practice enough to keep from disgracing myself, and
although I had never mounted this steed before, it did
not take me two minutes to see that he knew his busi-
ness. Till we closed with the herd, the animal I rode
had contented itself with merely gallopping, his ears
pointed for the game; but as we got close in, I felt him
tremble with excitement; throwing out his head and lay-
ing back his ears, he bit viciously at the air, setting his
ears back till they almost lay on either side of his mane;
a chain cable could not have restrained him now. I
could only guide him; so selecting one of the hindmost
cows, I gave a yell, and was the next moment alongside
of her. Resting the barrels of my gun on the left fore-
arm, I took a snap shot at her shoulder, at the same
instant my horse, from practice, sheered off; the cow,

180 THE TEXAN RANGER.

however, blundered heavily on about three strides,——more
from impetus than her ability to use her forequarters,—--
and pitched upon her nose. Again we were sailing in

pursuit, and at full speed I dropped a charge of powder
‘ down my empty barrel, took a bullet from my mouth and
shook it home,'and just as I had capped my gun, my
good horse had placed me alongside another buffalo,—-
this time a bull.

After the fall of this animal, we watched the prowess
of our friends. There was a waste of life and food, a
recklessness of encounter with an animal, whose brute
force alone could stand not the most shadowy chance
with man’s inventions, so that the chivalry of the tilt was
wanting ; with many exciting elements, fruition brought
no satisfaction.

Those who have never “run” buffalo, may fancy a
thousand adventurous points in the game. These rarely
occur,—when they do, the clumsiness of the hunter
generally leaves the buffalo the best of the contest. At
the same time, the lovely spring morning, the eager horse
under you, the green carpet beneath your feet, a cloud of
buffalo in the front, and there are but few with blood in
their veins who will not say “ Forward! ”

181

CHAPTER XIII.
A BIG B’AR FIGHT.

THE Romans, who knew something about the real thing,
had but one word to describe both virtue and courage—
m‘m‘us.

Philosophers have spilt much ink, and scratched much
paper in trying to define what is true valour.

German means have puzzled their beer-muddled brains
to as little purpose; a game cock knowing more about
the right article in half a minute, than all the “schools ”
put together.

In the backwoods of the south-west, the traveller often
meets with menwho seem singularlywell fitted for the wild
region they inhabit, their bodies exhibiting an immense
development of muscle, their cheeks ruddy as though
enjoying perfect health, their steel-grey hair betokening
middle-life, which they have attained whilst living
constantly amongst decaying vegetable matter, and
surrounded by swamps that would give even an alligator
the ague, and would certainly destroy a European the
first summer; yet here they live year after year in sound
health, and enjoying the exciting adventures of forest
life, as though they were made on some patent principle-
with which pain, wounds, or sickness had nothing to do.

Tall, muscular, self-reliant, yet modest men, they are,
almost to a man ; yet hardly any of their deeds of
bravery have been chronicled, for the most part because

182 THE TEXAN RANGER.

their adventures have happened deep in the forest, where
there were no witnesses. or else the actors have considered
them as the mere incidents of a border life, too common
to attract attention, and their innate modesty has shrunk
from anything that might have the appearance of brag—
ging.

‘ Notwithstanding this reticence as to their exploits,
they can occasionally be drawn out as they smoke their
corn-cob pipes around the camp fire, after a good supper
of bear’s caul-fat and liver, or fat venison ribs; and as
they sip their hot coffee or whisky—teddy, they will, if
judiciously “led on,” recount one or two of their most
desperate encounters.

Many a night, as I have lain stretched upon my blan-
ket, with my feet toasting at the fire, I have listened to
these yarns, when I have been upon a camp-hunt; and
they have had all the more interest because there was a
chance the next day that something similar might happen
to myself, or to any one of us who was then so peacefully
smoking. It is now some years since a party of bear
hunters were encamped near a dense cane-brake, on the
banks of the Trinity river, in Texas, and I, happening to
be in the neighbourhood, had been invited to join in the
hunt.

It would be impossible to paint with pen and paper
the Wild scenery of a Texan forest, to bring before the
eye of the mind the huge old forest giants, which seem
to be immortal, whose roots seem to reach far down, as
though seeking the earth’s centre, whilst their gnarled and
towering branches stretch out towards the blue sky above.

A BIG B’AR FIGHT. 183

Cover these branches, too, with the long wavy gray
Spanish moss, which gives a grave funereal gloom to the
dark woods, and the wanderer beneath their shades feels
the silence and solemnity as something tangible, an in-
cubus that weighs down on his spirits, like a spirit of
evil, unless the excitement of horn or hound, or the
interest of a “stalk” exorcises the oppression.

If this is the feeling in the broad light of day, what
must it be to the belated hunter as he sits by his lonely
camp-fire? Sitting on his blanket with his back to a
tree, a pipe in his mouth, whilst his fire crackles and
sparkles before him, throwing up myriads of sparks to-
wards the tree tops, he listens to the hooting of the owls
as they answer one another in the trees, or flit heavily
through the branches. In the distance he hears wolves
n pursuit of deer, two or three making nearly as much
noise as ten couple of hounds: closer by, the shrill
scream of the panther makes him loosen his knife in his
belt, or snatch suddenly at his gun.

All this is changed, however, when you ride through
the forest aisles with a jolly party, bent on “having a
good time,” or when sitting around the blazing logs of
the bivouac, the rough joke is received with yells that
effectually drown the wolves’ sharp yelps, and the pan-
ther’s scream; for on all camp-hunts there is sure to be
found some privileged joker, who, like the immortal Jack,
is not only witty himself, but the cause of wit in others.
On this occasion the life of the party was old Jim War-
ren. His father, like so many hundreds of pioneers,
had, as soon as he was spliced to the girl of his heart,

1841 THE TEXAN RANGER. '

shouldered his axe and his rifle, and setting his face to-
wards the setting sun, had marched out on to the frontier,
and “squatted.” The young couple had been captured
by a roving band of Sioux warriors, and during their
enforced residence with this wild tribe, Jim had first
seen daylight.

“Raised” in this wild way, Jim, though bold as a
lion, had imbibed many an Indian superstition, and
firmly believed in dreams, and spooks, and other Red-skin
legends. How tall he was, he neither knew nor did any
one else, for loosely and all in a heap as he walked, he pro-
bably measured fully six feet two inches , whilst had he
ever stretched himself to his full height, he would most
likely have reached another six inches. There was not
upon his person one ounce of superfluous flesh to round
off the angularities of his huge frame, and only the great
tendons, which stood out like cordage, seemed to hold his
enormous bones and joints together; and yet on a bear
hunt, Jim Warren could tire clown many a more com-
pactly built man, do more work, tell more stories, and
take in a larger supply of refreshments, both liquid and
solid, than any other man “in the hull of Texas.”

After hoppling our horses, and lighting the camp-fire,
we began to prepare our beds before cooking our suppers,
for, in the woods, the old classical style of taking our
meals reclining, is the rule.

Each man soon cut for himself a sufficient supply of
young cane, upon which to spread his blankets. This
duty done, each cut for himself slices from a deer which had
been killed upon the road, and after toasting them on a

A BIG B’AB FIGHT. 185

stick, he made his supper. After this, pipes were lighted,
tin cups of water were set upon the embers to warm for
those who liked hot grog, whilst gourds of whisky and
papers of sugar passed from hand to hand, and soon
good-natured jibes, jokes, and stories were in full
blast.

Old Jim was now in his glory. He talked on and on
till he had put all the company to sleep but myself, and
as he found me an attentive listener, he finally, from
general remarks, began to address me personally, and
trotted me through from the elementary to the most
complex experience.

“ I’ve killed a sight of b’ar in my time, stranger,” said
Jim lVarren, as he replenished his pint cup with Whisky
toddy‘ for about the fourth time, “ and I know a heap
about the varmints. Just you corner one, or cripple it,
or cotch an old she’s cub, and thar’ll be a fight or a foot
race on hand right off the reel. I larnt that a-many
years ago, and if you like to hear of it I’ll tell you all
about it.”

I told him that I should be very glad to hear his
story ; so Jim proceeded.

“ About fifteen years ago I had squatted in Arkansaw,
and had pretty much a hull region to myself; I don’t
expect there was narry a squatter Within fifty miles of me
ary way. I had elbow-room then, stranger ; the place had
not then begun to be spoilt with what they call
{marovementa \Vhat’s the use of improvements, Iwant
to know? Except the trees I had cut to build me a
cabin, there hadn’t been a tree blazed with an axe, and

 

 

186 THE TEXAN RANGER.

now I’m told that the country’s smothered up with set-
tlements. Does cutting down the forest make game
more plenty ? I guess not.”

Old Jim paused here for some moments, and after a
heavy sigh or two to the memory of his lost “happy
hunting grounds,” he resumed :—

“It was a’most as fine an April morning as ever I see,
that I was after turkeys on the Black River. I had been
squandering about for a considerable time without light-
ing on anything as looked like paying for powder and
lead, when all on a suddint I came on to a bluflish sand-
stone hillock like. At the base of it was a lot of softish
sand, the washings most like of the mound, and thinking
I might find some ‘ sign ’ in it, I walked slowly round.
Stranger! I was not mistook; when I got about three
parts round I came to a sort of cave mouth, and leading
into it was some of the darndest, all fired, biggest tracks
of a b’ar I ever see. Says I, ‘that b’ar’s mine, or I’ll
bust wide open—that b’ar’s mine,’ says I, ‘ or I’ll give
up the huntin’ business, and start as a Methody
preacher.’

“ I was now in a considerable quandary, you see, about
how I was to get at the b’ar; it was the spring of the
year, and even if it had bin farther north, the b’ars
would a’ done housing, so there was no hope of taking a
light afore me into the cave, and shooting him when he
was torpid, as is sometimes done in the dead of winter.
I could not even hope to catch him napping, for the
last ‘ sign ’ warn’t an hour or so old—the {me/cs was warm.
However, standing looking at the hole wouldn’t mend

A BIG B’AB FIGHT. 187

the matter, so I went back a little ways to where I had
noticed a big pine that had been snapped ofi’ in some
gale, and cut a lot of splinters from the stump, where all
the turpentine had gummed on it, and tying them up
together with a piece of buckskin, I made a right good— ,
sized torch.

“When I got back to the cave, I put a fresh cap on
my rifle, saw my knife all clear for drawing, and then lit
my torch, which burnt up fierce. Then squatting down
on my hands, so as to carry the light atween my feet, I
managed to have both hands ready for using my rifle,
and got ready to start.

“Stranger, I hope I may be pitched naked into a
briar—patch, ef the b’ar wasn’t come to the mouth of the
cave to give me the meeting. Yes, sirree I it was a great
she b’ar, and shelooked as ugly and wicked as sin. Her
mouth was open to show her ivories, and her eyes were
grass-green with rage. Stranger! the conviction came
home to my soul like a yarthquake, that b’ar izadgozf young
cubs. I think, stranger, for about a minute, that time I
had the nm'm'ozos ,- my eyes had as many rings in them
as a wild cat’s, and I felt my skin kind of creep all over
me. Just for about that minute I wished I had been
born to be hung, and not chawed up teetotally.

“Wrall, thar was the b’ar, looking as if it wanted to
whip somebody, and didn’t know how to begin, and thar
sot I for a minute, fairly skeered, for about the fust time
in my life. It was lucky for me the b’ar had not charged
at oncet, or it might have wiped me so totally out, I
should never have know’d what hurt me. As soon as I

 

188 turn TEXAN RANGER.

had collected myself a bit, I raised my rifle, sighted for
the b’ar’s eye, and fired; and as soon as ever I pulled
trigger I sprang to my pins, for I know’d ef I had not
killed the b’ar right away, I was in for a considerable
of a muss.

" My shot confused the b’ar for about half a second,
but next instant it was at me. As it charged me I broke
my rifle-stock over its head, but it was too heavy and
strong to pay much more attention to that, than a
whisky-barrel would to a kick from a grasshopper, and
the next thing I know’d, we were rolling over, tight
clinched together, on the ground.

“ I don’t reckon, stranger, as you ever was in such a
tight place with a b’ar as I was then ; for whilst I was
working double tides with my bowie, the old she was a
chawing away on my left shoulder, and working her
paws as nimbly as a fiddler fingers a jig, or the ‘ Arkansaw
Traveller.’ Things somehow got mightily mixed up
about that time, and I guess I lost myself, for I was
bleeding like a young spring-head. \Vhen I came to
myself the b’ar was lying dead across my legs, and I felt
all over as ef I’d been run through a bark-mill, and
considerably ground up in the pro—cess. After I’d ma-
naged to bobble to the river, and got a drink, and bound
up my wounds with some strips of my shirt-tail, I began
to feel kinder better, and then I went back to the car-
case of the b’ar. My bullet, I found, had struck above
the old she’s eye and glanced down her scalp : no wonder
she was as savage as a meat-axe.

“ Stranger, I’d given eighteen digs with my bowie, but

 

GRIZZLY BEAR SHOOTING. 189

the lucky one as did her business for her, was through
the neck, and had cut her jugular; ef it hadn’t a bin
for that, I guess I should never have killed another
b’ar.

.“ Stranger, I dreamt I was treading on snakes the
night afore I killed that b’ar, and as sartin as ever I
dream Of them riptiles, I has trouble.

“ But we’ve got to be afoot early in the morning, so
I shall say goodnight; and darn snake dreams anyhow.”

 

CHAPTER XIV.
GRIZZLY BEAR SHOOTING.

FAR deep in the dark forests, Often occur feats Of prowess
and daring, which no pen ever records; the dauntless,
skin-dressed, white trapper, the nearly naked, but equally
brave, Indian chief, attacks the savage beasts in their
forest fastnesses, Where no eye can see, no hand assist;
the duel is fought fairly out. Long after, around some
camp fire, the trapper will perhaps mention one of these
battles as a “smartish snarl ;” but he Will do this
without vaunting—though deep on breast and shoulder
are scars ploughed by tooth or talon on that very occa-
sion he speaks of, When he could barely hold his own—
for boasting and exaggerating are not settlement weak-
nesses.

A necklace of the claws Of a grizzly bear Will be seen
on the Indian’s neck, should he have proved ‘fnnqueror

 

*-

190 THE TEXAN RANGER.

in the fray,—a prouder trophy than even the scalp-lock
snatched from a foeman’s head on the warLPat'h. He,
too, may unbend and relate to those around his ‘f smoke”
how sharp was the conflict, but he will not exaggerate,
his life has been too chequered for that : lies are tire pro-
duction of towns, not of the free wild woods. 1

The grizzly bear (Ursus ferox) is the strongest, m’ost
savage, and most tenacious of life, of all the animals
Whose home is in the American wilderness. It often
measures ten feet in length, and weighs twelve hundred
pounds. It overpowers the largest buffalo bull, and
walks away with the great carcase for long distances.

The cultivation of the senses by woodsmen can never
be understood by the inhabitants of long settled coun-
tries; place one of these latter in a forest, and he will
see nothing but trees, the grass, the fallen leaves, &c. ;
but to the eye of the hunter much more is to be seen.
The broken dog-wood bush shows where the buck has
frayed his antlers, the path beneath his feet has signs
upon it that reveal to his mind’s eye the passage of a
bear, and he can readily tell its size, its state, and often
its sex.

There are almost as many plans of killing the grizzly
bear, as there are hunters Who pursue it. No system
can be laid down,- the experience of one hunt would, if
followed in another, cost perhaps life or limb. One

habit, however, of old Ephraim is an exception, and I

shall quote from an old American sporting book, pub-
lished long ago, an account of how the bear is hunted in
his cave.

GRIZZLY BEAR SHOOTING. 191 .

The grizzly bears, like the tiger and lion, have their
caves, in which they live; but they use them principally
as a safe lodging-place, when the cold of winter renders
them torpid and disposed to sleep. To these caves they
retire late in the fall, and they seldom venture out until
awakened by the genial warmth of spring. Sometimes
two occupy one cave, but this is not often the case, as
the unsociability of the animal is proverbial, it prefers to
to be solitary and alone.

A knowledge of the forests, and an occasional trailing
for bear, informs the hunter of these caves; and the
only habit of the giizzly bear that can with certainty be
taken gadvantage of, 1s that of his being 1n his cave at the
pr oper season.

The :1hu11te1 has the terrible liberty of entering his
den sin’gle- handed, and there destroying him. Of this
only method of hunting the grizzly bear, we will attempt
a description.

The thought of entering a cave, inhabited by one of
the most terrible beasts of prey, is calculated to try the
strength of the stoutest nerves ; and when it is con-
sidered that the least trepidation, the slightest mistake,
may cause, and probably will result, in the instant death
of the hunter, it certainly exhibits the very highest
demonstration of physical courage, to pursue such a
method of hunting. Yet there are many persons in
the forests of North America, who engage in such perilous
adventures, with no other object 1n view than the sport,
or a hearty meal.

The hunter’s preparations to “beard the lion in his

 

192 THE TEXAN RANGER.

den,” commence with examining the mouth of the cave
he is about to enter. Upon the signs there exhibited,
he decides whether the bear be alone; for if there be
two, the cave is never entered. The size of the bear is
also thus known, as well as the time since he was last in
search of food.

The way that this knowledge is obtained, from indica-
tions so slight, or unseen to an ordinary eye, is one of
the greatest mysteries of the woods.

Placing ourselves at the mouth of a cave containing a
grizzly bear, to our untutored senses there would be
nothing to distinguish it from one that was unoccupied;
but let some Diana of the forest touch our eyes, and give
us the instinct of sight possessed by the hunter, and we
would argue thus 2——

From all the marks about the mouth of the care, the
occupant has not been out for a great length of time, for
the grass and the earth have not lately been disturbed.

The bear is in the cave, for the last tracks made are
with the toe-marks towards it.

There is but one bear, because the tracks are regular,
and of the same size.

He is a large animal; the length of the step and the
size of the paw indicate this.

And he is fat, because his hind feet do not step 2'22 the
impressions made 223/ the fore ones, as is always the case
with a lean bear.

Such are the signs and arguments that present them—
selves to the hunter ; and, mysterious as they seem when
not understood, when once explained, they strike the

GRIZZLY BEAR SHOOTING. 193

imagination as being founded on the unerring simplicity
and certainty of nature.

It may be asked, how it is that the grizzly bear is so
formidable to numbers, when mettlin the forest, though in
a cave it can be successfully assailed by a single man ?

In answer to this, we must recollect that the bear is
only attacked in his cave when he is in total darkness,
and suffering from surprise and the torpidity of the
season.

These three things are, in this method of hunting,
taken advantage of ; and but for these advantages, no
quickness of eye, steadiness of nerve, or forest expe-
rience, would protect, for an instant, the intruder to the
cave of the grizzly bear.

The hunter, having satisfied himself about the cave,
prepares a candle, which he makes out of the wax taken
from the comb of wild bees, softened by the grease of the
bear. This candle has a large wick, and emits a brilliant
flame. Nothing else is needed but the rifle. The knife
and belt are of little use; for should a struggle ensue
where it is made available, the foe is generally so

: formidable, that the hunter using it is powerless before
I his thrusts have had any effect upon the animal.
Bearing the candle before him, with the rifle in a con-
" venient position, the hunter fearlessly enters the cave.
He is soon surrounded by darkness, and is totally
r unconscious where his enemy will reveal himself. Having
it fixed the candle in a firm position in the ground, with a
I provided apparatus he lights it, and its brilliant flame

a soon penetrates into the recesses of the cavern—its
l3

 

194: THE TEXAN RANGER.

size, of course, rendering‘the illumination more or less
complete.

The hunter now throws himself upon his face, having
the candle between himself and. the back part of the cave
where the bear sleeps ; in this position, with the muzzle
of his rifle protruding in front of him, he patiently
waits for his victim. A short time only elapscs before
Bruin is aroused by the light. The noise made by his
starting from sleep attracts the hunter, and he soon
perceives a black mass, moving, stretching, and yawn-
ing, like a person awakened from a deep sleep.

The hunter moves not, but prepares his rifle. The bear,
finally aroused, turns his head towards the candle, and,
with slow wad dling steps, approaches it.

Now is the time that tries the nerve of the hunter;
it is too late to retreat, and his life hangs upon his cer-
tain aim and the goodness of his powder. The slightest
variation in the bullet, or a flash inthe pan, and he is
doomed!

So tenacious of life is the common black bear, that it
is frequently wounded in its most vital parts, and still it
will escape or give terrible battle. But the grizzly bear
seems to possess an infinitely greater tenacity of life.
His skin is covered with matted hair, and the huge bones
of the body protect the heart, as if incased in a stone wall;
while the brain is buried in a skull, compared with which
adamant is not harder. A bullet striking the bear’s
forehead, if it struck squarely, would flatten, as though it
were fired against a rock; and dangerous, indeed, would
it be to take the chance of reaching the animal’s heart.

 

GRIZZLY BEAR SHOOTING. 195

With these fearful odds against the hunter, the bear
approaches the candle, growing every moment more
sensible of some uncommon intrusion. He reaches the
blaze and raises his paw”t’f3‘ Strike it, or lifts his nose to
scent it,—either .of which will extinguish it, and leave
both the hunter and the bear in total darkness.

This dreadful moment is taken advantage of ; the loud
report of the rifle fills the cave with a stunning noise;
and as the light disappears, the ball, if successfully fired,
penetrates the eye of the huge animal—the only place
Where it could find a passage to the brain—and this not
only gives the death-wound, but it instantly so paralyses
it that no temporary resistance can be made.

On such fearful chances, the American hunter perils
his life, and often thoughtlessly courts the danger.

Thousands of bear stories are told by both White and
red hunters; but in all Which have taken place with
“ Olde Ephe,” as themountain-men term the grizzly,—-—-
in all, or nearly all, the narrowest of escapes are re-
counted.

196

CHAPTER XV.
AN ADVENTURE WITH A COUGAR.

SPRING, all the world over, is perhaps the most delightful
season of the year. It is the time of promise, as Au-
tumn is of fruition. In England, “in forest dark, and
wild wood dell,” the blue violets and yellow primroses
scent the air, whilst the green fields are bountifully
sprinkled with cowslips and daisies, and the hedges are
full of wild honeysuckles, dog-roses, and sweetest scent
of all, the white blossoms of May. In Canada, where
only the week before the ground was covered with
snow, the Spring comes in with startling suddenness,
almost with the same bounding leap that the clown
throws a somersault into the ring at a circus, with, as he
exclaims, “ Here we are, my hearties !”

Away, far to the south, the advance of Spring, if less
perceptible, is not less lovely. Though many of the
trees are evergreens, yet there are many “hardwood
trees ” which shed their leaves in “the fall,” and these
now put on their new foliage, whilst even the young pale
green leaves of the former contrast strongly with the
dark green, almost blue tints of the old foliage.

Hundreds of the twining parasitical plants have
flowers; and amongst them all, the gaudiest are the
great scarlet, trumpet—shaped flowers of the poison oak-
vine. The intense heat of summer has not yet come to
burn, crack, and parch up the earth, so that, from dawn

AN ADVENTURE WITH A. COUGAR. 197

to meridian, the scent holds good in the shade, and the
greenwood aisles often ring with the loud baying of
hounds, and echo with the sharp twang of the horn, or
the crack of the rifle, as late as the “ merrie month of
May.”

In the spring, too, the game, as well as the vermin,
bring forth their young, and then they do not confine
themselves to their nightly prowlings, for, whilst suck- ‘
ling, they need more food ; and thus, the solitary deer-
stalker often comes across an old bear with cubs, or sees
prowling about through the brush, the lithe form of the
panther, as she tries to find some wild turkey’s nest, or
to surprise a fawn or deer in its lair, for food.

On this particular April morning, had any one been
upon Turkey Creek, and about fifteen miles from where
it debouches into Blatagorda Bay, he would have heard
the loud haying of five hounds, as they crashed through
the underbrush on a hot scent, which reeked up so
strongly from the earth, that they had no occasion to
stoop to it, but carried it breast high, as they dashed
through all impediments.

Arrived at a “woods-road,” which had been made
for the temporary purpose of hauling building logs
through, they paused for a few seconds, where the scent
had been foiled by a flock of wild turkeys, which had
been dusting and basking themselves in the sun; but
scarcely a minute elapsed before the leading hound re-
covered the trail, and dashed off through the young cane
that fringed the farther side of the road. The pause,
short though it was, had been suificient to bring the

198 THE TEXAN RANGER.

hunter into View, as his horse, clearing a great fallen
tree, landed in the middle of the road, white with foam,
with starting eyes and expanded nostrils, quivering with
excitement and exertion.

The rider was a young man of about two or three and
twenty, dressed in a jean hunting frock, with buckskin
leggings, and was armed with a bowie-knife, stuck
through his waist-belt, and the long single rifle in com-
mon use in the woods ; whilst suspended by his side was
a small bullet-pouch and powder-horn, secured by a
stout buckskin thong that passed over his left shoulder.

He did not halt many seconds, however, and was soon
hidden in the forest, as he galloped in pursuit of his

hounds, which could now be heard haying their game,
which, whatever it was, had evidently “treed.”

“Then he arrived within sight of his hounds, whose
noses were directed upwards towards some object
perched amongst the branches of a great elm, the hunter
dismounted, and fastening his horse to a young sapling,
advanced towards the dogs, muttering, as he did so,
“ N ow to square all past accounts with the old hog-
thief.”

The hounds, encouraged by his presence, barked twice
as furiously, and danced around the tree with excited
eagerness. For some little time he searched the tree
unsuccessfully, as the branches were covered with the
long grey Spanish moss, common in those woods ; but at
last he saw, crouching down upon a large bough, an ob-
ject which he at first supposed to be acatamount or lynx.
Raising his rifle, he was about to pull the trigger, when

AN ADVENTURE WITH A COUGAR. 199

a slight movement of the creature’s tail caused him to
lower it. “By all the powers of the woods!” he said,
“ its a young ‘painter! ’ A catamount hasn’t got such a
tail as that, I guess. But where’s the old she?” Again
he searched the tree carefully, as well as the surrounding
ones, but failed to discover the old panther. Going
back, he undid the lasso with which his horse had
been tied, and now fastened it by the bridle-rein.
Taking the lasso in his hand, he returned to the tree
upon‘whieh the panther cub was perched. He leaned
his rifle against a bush, unslung his bullet-pouch, and
laid it down, retaining only his bowie-knife. Then
taking the lasso in his hand, he approached the foot of
the tree he meant to ascend; first, however, taking
another cautious survey of the neighbouring trees, to
make sure that he had not overlooked the old panther.

“I conclude I’ll take you alive, young fellow!” he
said, addressing the cub, as though it could understand
the meaning of his words. “ Your jacket, dead, wouldn’t
fetch more than twenty-five cents, or maybe half a dol-
lar,—but if I can take you alive, and get you to Galveston,
some Yankee skipper ’11 maybe give me ten or fifteen
dollars for you, to carry you North on spec.”

The trunk of the elm was too large for him to get a
grip of it with his arms; so he threw one end of the
lasso over one of the lower limbs, close to the body of
the tree, and, catching the end after it had descended on
the other side of the bough, he easily drew himself up
to the branch, from which, by the aid of the other
boughs, the ascent was easy, carrying with him,

magma.

200 THE TEXAN RANGER.

however, the rope, with which he hoped to secure his
prize.

As he drew near, the young cub, which at first had
been stretched close to the bough, so as to be out of
sight as much as possible, raised itself to its paws; and
bristling up the fur upon its back, whilst its tail swelled
to half the size of its body, arched its back,just as a
common domestic cat may often be seen to do when
threatened by a dog, and set up a low growling noise,
which in cats is generally termed “swearing.”

This noise soon brought another actor on the fragile
stage—~the mother of the cub. Just as Green, the hun-
ter, was preparing the noose of the lasso to jerk over
the cub’s head, and by half choking it, to make it possible
for him to tie it, a rustle in a great grapevine which had
twined up another tree, whose branches mingled with
those of the elm, and whose great leaves had hitherto _
concealed the old panther, caused the hunter to turn his
head, and there he saw a sight which set the blood boil-
ing back to his heart; and then, when it resumed its
course, made every vein and petty artery of his body
tingle.

There, crouched ready for her spring, was the great
she-cat, her ears laid back till the head showed almost as
flat as a rattlesnake’s, her tail switching her flanks
viciously, the talons of both paws extended ready to
strike. She glared at the hunter with her green eyes
glowing like fire-balls, and spat with a harsh hissing
growl of spite and defiance.

Green saw it was “no time for swapping horses,” as

AN ADVENTURE WITH A COUGAR. I 201

the head bufi’oon of Federaldom elegantly expressed
himself, when his great general got into “ a tight place,”
and he could neither dismiss nor replace him; but he
saw what was the right thing to do, and he did it.

At the very moment the panther drew herself together
for her spring, he put the trunk of the tree between
them, drawing his knife as he did so, and holding it in
his right hand, ready for a thrust.

The strong talons of the brute, which, nnsheathed
from the velvet paws, were fully three inches in length,
buried themselves in the rough bark of the elm, instead of
in Green’s more tender shoulders. Quick as lightning the
rope was made fast to the bough upon which he was, and
Green slid down the rope, severely burning his hands as
he did so, from the friction, though it broke the rapidity
of his descent, and he reached the ground, with this ex«
Aception, uninjured. His rifle was next snatched up, but
it was fully five minutes before he could “ draw a bead ”
upon the “ varmint,” so much did his hand tremble, and
so fast did his heart heat from excitement. At last he
braced himself for a shot, and, sighting for the eye, he sent
a bullet right through skull and brain, out at the root of
the farther ear ; and the fierce beast was for ever harmless.
Loading again as quickly as he could, having no farther
desire to catch the cub, he sent a second bullet on its .
errand of death, and brought down the young panther.
The skins were soon stripped, and thrown behind the
saddle, and the young backwoodsman, mounting his
horse, and followed by his hounds, started for home,
after one of the narrowest escapes he ever had, as a hunter.

 

 

202

CHAPTER XVI.
THE WILD CAT.

IN the immense cane-brakes of the south—west, where the
canes often grow to nearly thirty feet in height, and
which are so matted together by briars, Indian creepers,
and scores of other trailing, parasitical plants, the wild
cat finds a home almost impregnable against intrusion.

Although every year vast numbers are killed, when
in their nocturnal wanderings they visit the hen- roosts
'of the neighbouring plantations, yet so secure are their
dens, and so uninterruptedly do they rear their young:
that they have probably suffered less diminution by the
colonisation of the Southern States, than any other
description of either game or vermin, and therefore they
remain seemingly as plentiful as ever they were, “in the
memory of the oldest inhabitant.”

It is probably about as ill-natured a piece of animal
life, as ever was wrapped in hair and hide. Taken as a
blind kitten, raised by hand, and petted to its heart’s
content, it is never tamedhand never seems sensible of
any kindness; tooth and talon are ever ready for the
hand that has fed and caressed it.

Sly and cunning as is the fox, the wild cat is ten
times more so, added to which is another quality not
possessed by Reynard—the ability to climb trees.

From an elevated bough it will Spring down with the
rapidity of an arrow, and catch of, in its lightning-like

THE WILD CAT. 203

descent, some unsuspicious bird, which has perched upon
a twig below, alighting on the ground, “as soft as
satin l ” after a jump of twenty or thirty feet.

The hollow log, or the burrow, where the ’coon, the
’possum, and the rabbit hide themselves away, and the
nest on the tree, are alike invaded. Every motion,
whether gambolling in play, or in pursuit of prey, is alike
full of grace; and whether it jumps or runs, or is seen
in repose, with only the tail gently waving, no one can
fail to discover the activity in action, which can, at an
instant’s’warning, be called forth. ,

Every hair seems full of life, and every muscle a steel
wire.

An animal, whose instincts of destruction are so fully
developed, is as ruthlessly pursued. The rifle, the shot-
gun, and the trap, as well as the hound, the terrier, and
the our, are all brought to aid in its destruction. Hounds,
too, which limit the fox with the greatest ardour, seem
to run the cat with ten times more zest, though this
may be in part accounted for, by its leaving a warmer
scent.

It gives more sport, too, than a fox, from its numerous
resources for escape. Here the country will not admit
of a sharp “forty minutes over the open,” so that the
sport really consists in seeing the hounds work and
puzzle out the scent for themselves. No huntsman can
“lift ” his hounds, or make a “ cast,” when the quarry
is a “varmint,” that can not only “tree,” but spring
from tree to tree, for perhaps a quarter of a mile without
touching “ dirt.” To hunt the cat no great expense is

204 THE TEXAN RANGER.

necessary ; there is no huntsman to pay, nor any “ whips ;”
no kennel people, nor large stud of horses. Three or
four couple of hounds, which will run fox or cat, and
your ordinary shooting pony, are all that are necessary,
except, perhaps, an old shot-gun, charged with a few
dust shot, to start the eat when it has “treed.” Your
horse grazes free of expense, your hounds are content
with the refuse maize bread from the house, and the offal
of the daily deer sacrificed for meat for the family.

We will now take a “fall” morning, to illustrate a
cat hunt.

The party consists of four or five planters, who have
clubbed their “cat packs,” and the scene is on Caney
Creek.

The sun has not yet risen, and as there is no twilight,
the morning is still dark. Nevertheless, the horses are
standing saddled, and tied to various trees in the yard,
Whilst the planters are taking “a bite and a sup,” by
candle-light, to keep off the raw morning air, which might
provoke argue if inhaled on an empty stomach. There
are a few sulky growls amongst the mixed pack, but no
actual fighting, for they have all thus met often before,
and are as well aware of each other’s prowess, as a set of
public school-boys.

The owls have left off hooting in the woods these
twenty minutes, or more ; and now a wren chirps queru-
lously in the pomegranate bushes, and this wakes up a
cardinal (Loxia cardinalis), which has perched through
the night, with his head under his wing, on the tall Osage
orange tree (602's cl’m'c), overhead, and his sharp twitter

THE WILD CAT. 205

has been heard by the planters, who, lighting their pipes
or cigars, come out to their horses, as they know the sun
will now soon be up.

\Vith the first faint streaks of light, they start off down
through the “switch cane,” and trail gently along for a
cat, down the bank of the stream.

Before half a mile has been “ drawn,” a low whimper
or two is changed into a ringing chorus by the whole '
pack: they do not run a hundred yards before it is
apparent that the cat has crossed the stream upon a
fallen tree, which spans the creek. No uneasiness is felt,
however, on that score, although there is neither bridge
nor ford. The bottom is blue mud, and would “bog a
spread blanket ;” the farther side is “open ” forest, and
the cane-brake is on this ,——the cat has only crossed
during the night, in search of a wild turkey, and will be
compelled to re-cross, for its home is in the cane.

The hounds in their hot haste jostle each other off the
log, and one splash after another shows that some will
have to swim. They are all over now, and in full cry.
Gradually their voices become more distant and faint.
Before they have run quite out of hearing, they turn,
and run parallel to the creek, and then turnng back, we
hear them more distinctly each moment. It is fully day-
light now, and we can ride at a tolerable pace to try and
meet the cat, and head it back into the jaws of the
hounds. As we brush against bough or leaf, thousands
of diamond dewdrops shower down upon us, and make us
almost as wet as though we had swam the creek like
our hounds. The cat, however. is not to be turned. But

,A—flmlfifig A” ,A..,.,.. A

 

 

206 THE TEXAN RANGER.

in spite of shouts and stamping horses, it gallantly runs
the gauntlet, and dives into the cane-brake.

Luckily, the cane is not old—three years ago it was
burnt to the ground—or else the best pack of hounds
ever wrapped in dog-skin, would be of little use. The
cane we “trailed” down was “switch cane,” this year’s
growth, and through this and into the other, the good
hounds rattle the “ varmint.”

First into one, then through the other, backwards and
forwards, the quarry leads her pursuers. Two or three
times it has “ treed,” and running along 1‘ or two or three
trees at a time, it has again descended, in a vain endeavour
to elude the pack ; in vainfieach rusc has been met by
the untiring energy of the hounds, and now, fairly run
down, it has “ treed ” upon an immense pecan.

The baying of the pack draws together the scattered
sportsmen, and all soon meet under the greenwood tree,
but as each looks at the other, a shade of disappoint-
ment settles upon every face—the shot-gun, with its
charge of mustard-seed shot, has been forgotten, and
there, high over all, sits the cat seemingly out of harm’s
way. Its eyes dart glances of rage and fury, whilst the
green eye-balls sparkle like balls of fire; its formidable
talons are now extended, then retracted, and it dints the
insensible wood with them 5 the hair upon its back. stands
erect, “like quills upon the fretful porcupine ; ” the ears
are not visible; in its rage and fury they are flattened
to the head, as if nailed there; the froth trembles
on its jaws ; and now with all its rage and fury,
can be distinctly seen its likeness to the rattlesnake

 

THE ‘WILD CAT. 207

about the head, as has been before observed by a sporting
writer :—

“ In expression of face,the wild-cat singularly resembles
the rattlesnake. The skulls of these two ‘varmints ’ have
the same venomous expression, the same demonstration
of fangs; and probably no two living creatures attack
each other with more deadly ferocity and hate. They
will stare at each other with eyes filled with defiance,
and burning with fire ; one hissing, and the other snarl-
ing ; presenting a most terrible picture of the malevo-
lence of passion. The serpent, in his attitude all grace
—the eat, all activity. The serpent moves with the
quickness of lightning, while making the attack : the cat
defends with motions equally quick, bounding from side
to side, striking with its paws. Both are often victims,
for they seldom separate until death-blows have been in-
flicted on either side.”

The cat may have sat thus defiantly for ten minutes,
whilst men and hounds have gazed wistfully upwards,
when, all at once, the keener eyes of one of the party
has noticed a grape vine which passes directly over the
cat’s body ; following its circumvolutions gradually down
the tree, he has traced it to the ground; a judicious jerk
touches the cat on the rump, so suddenly, s0 unexpec-
tedly, that pussy launches herself into the air, and, after
a descent of at least forty feet, she falls into the surprised
mouths of the bounds.

Now the “ fur flies” in earnest: that howl tells where
the bunch of talons got home—that yell, where the
sharp fangs have met; then a low droning from the cat

 

208 THE TEXAN RANGER.

formed a meet accompaniment to the fiendish fuss ; whilst
the “ worry, worry, good hounds,” from the excited
sportsmen, rang through the moss-covered boughs of the
scattered cane-brake trees. By this time, the sun has
evaporated the sparkling dewdrops; the scent, even in
that last rattling burst, began to fail ere the cat was
“treed,” so that, for this time, the hunt is up; and all,
collecting their hounds, wend home to business.

From the following quotations, where he is well known,
the character of the wild-cat may be understood z——

“ Of all the peculiarities of the cat, its untamcablc and
quarrelsome disposition is its most marked characteristic.
There is no half-way mark, no exception, no occasional
moment of good-nature ; starvation and a surfeit, blows
and kind words, kicks, cuffs, and fresh meat, reach not
the sympathies of the wild-cat. He has all the greedi-
ness of a pawnbroker, the ill-nature of a usurer, the
meanness of a pettifogging lawyer, the blind rage of a
hog, and the apparent insensibility to pain of the turtle :
like a woman, the wild-cat is incomparable with anything
but itself.”

The Western hunter, when he wishes to cap the climax
of braggadocio, with respect to his own prowess, says,—
“He can whip his weight in wild-cats.” This is saying
all that can be said: for it would seem, considering its
size, that in a fight the cat can bite fiercer, scratch
harder, and live longer, than any animal whatever.

“ I am a roaring earthquake in a fight,” sang out one
of the half-horse, half-alligator species of fellows—“ a real
snorter of the universe. I can strike as hard as fourth

THE orossum. 209

proof lightning, and keep it up, rough and tumble, as
1ong as a wild-cat.”

Can anything more be said as a proof of its disposition
and pugnacity ? ‘

“ A ‘singed cat ’ is an excellent proverb, illustrating
that a person may be smarter than he looks. A singed
Wild-cat would be sublime.”

The Indians, who, in their notions and traditions, are
always picturesque and beautiful, imagine that the rattle—
snake, to live, must breathe the poisonous air of the
swamps, and the exhalations of decayed animal matter
while the cat has the attribute of gloating over the meaner
displays of a quarrelsome person; for, speaking of a quar-
relsome family, they say—“ The lodge containing it far?-

tens the wild-cat. ’

 

CHAPTER XVII.
THE orossnm.

THERE are several small animals in Texas which afi'ord
much sport to the white boys and negroes on the plan-
tations. These are not, strictly speaking, game, although
they are eaten; and they are generally summed up under
the comprehensive denomination of varmints. The ’coon,
the cat, ’possums, and squirrels are generally found in

the neighbourhood of the forest plantations, and were it
14:

2-10 THE TEXAN RANGER.

not for the numerous dogs always to be found at these
places, the people would have great difficulty in pre-
serving their eggs and poultry. There are no taxes on
dogs in Texas, so that almost every negro has his cur or
two, often several ; and with these, on the beautiful Au-
tumn nights in the Sunny South, he pursues all the var-
mz‘m‘s mentioned, save the squirrel.

Around the planter’s house, the hounds, and sporting
dogs, such as setters or pointers, and the cur—bred
animals, used in bear or panther hunting, lie scattered
about; they seldom condescend to visit the negro “ quar-
ters,” and when they do, they never notice the negrocs’
dogs, which they may chance to see. The “ darkies ” curs,
too, slink out of the way of these lordly white-men’s
dogs, as though they knew that they, being owned by an
inferior race, had from that circumstance to give way.

This is a very singular fact, but it is true, that dogs
should so thoroughly understand their positions; but I
believe most men who have ever travelled in the South
will bear me out as to the truth of this.

I have walked and ridden through scores of strange
negro “ quarters,” where many negroes’ dogs were about,
and I do not remember that one ever even growled as I
passed by; but as soon as I approached the planter’s
house, the dogs owned by the whites have challenged my
advance.

The animal that affords the most Sport to the white
boys and the negroes at night, is the racoon ; and when
the milk begins to form in the grains of the Indian corn,
the season for this sport may be said to commence ; for

 

,V.;,...I_,,4,1:,_;.;_.w,fi_.g,.,r.,1” , .._,...,... . . a. ,7 3 “3'5.

THE orossum- 211

then, at night, scores visit the corn-fields to steal the
ears. Taking an axe in his hand, after supper, the negro
Whistles up his dogs, and, starting along the headland of
the field, or down some “turning row ’ as soon as the
dogs come to any place Where a ’coon has passed, they
own the scent, and take off in full cry. The loud yell-
ing of the curs soon calls the attention of the other dogs
Within hearing, and they, anxious to join in the hunt,
start 0113', yelping as loudly as they can, followed by their
owners, Who are equally eager for the fun.

The racoon is an animal not very unlike a fox, except
that it is more compactly built and not quite so large,
With several dark rings of hair encircling its “ brush 5”
but it has this advantage over the latter, that it can climb
trees, and Whenever it is pressed by the dogs, it
“trees.” NOW, the axe which the negro had the pre-
caution to bring with him is brought into play, and
Whilst the darkey swings this tool, and makes the chips
fly, the dogs, which perfectly understand What is going
on, sit with expectant faces turned up towards the
’coon.

Presently the tree begins to totter, and the dogs bark
and dance about with delight. ‘Vhen at last it topples
over, bringing the ’coon down quicker than it went up,
the dogs pounce upon it, and after a short but sharp
fight, kill it. The ’coon is then taken by the negro, Who
skins and cleans it, and after laying it in salt and water
for several hours, it is baked, surrounded by a heap of
sweet potatoes ; and the black family feast upon this
“ dainty dish.”

 

212 THE TEXAN RANGER.

I have eaten ’coon, but I was obliged to come to the
same conclusion as Prince Lucien Murat arrived at, when
he tried to cook a turkey-buzzard and make it eatable.
“ Sare, I roase him, I boil him, I grill him ; sen I stew
him, mais—sacre-he no good, no way at all.”

Prince Murat lived for many years in Florida, and it
is said that no beast, no bird, fish, nor reptile was to be
found in all that country, that he had not tasted.

Next comes the opossum, one of the most singular
and inexplicable little animals to be found.

The opossum is in length from twelve to fifteen inches,
and its tail is about as much more, destitute of hair, and
looking somewhat like the tail of a gigantic rat. The
body is covered with a rough coat of grey, white, and
brown hair, which gives the animal a blue tinge. The
feet are naked and long, and have a peculiar hand-like
appearance; the ears look like two pieces of crumpled
blue kid glove, and are destitute of hair. The mouth is
long, and displays a set of formidable teeth, but the j aws
lack power to use them very vigorously.

The eyes have the appearance of a pair of black beads,
but they are not very powerful in daylight, and even on
bright moonlight nights they seem to be dazzled by the
light, so that they are often knocked on the head by
night-hunters, apparently without their perceiving that
any enemies are near. Its power of smell is evidently
its strongest sense, as the nostrils are well developed:
and this mainly tends to its preservation.

The greatest peculiarity, hOWever, of the opossum, and
that which attracts general attention to it, is the singular

THE orossum. 213

pouch under its body, in which the young are carried
before they are completely developed, and into which
they retreat whenever threatened by danger. This
singular pocket contains, in its interior, ten or twelve
teats, to which the young are attached, after what seems
a premature birth, and here they hang for about fifty
days. They then drop off, and begin a more active
existence.

Climate has much to do with the size of the opossum.
In Texas and the Southern States they are very much
larger than those found in a more northern latitude.

They burrow in the ground, or select some hollow log
or tree, where they sleep during the day-time, prowling
about chiefly at night for the food ; and, seemingly, very
little comes amiss to them, for they feed indiscriminately
upon poultry, insects, eggs, fruits, &c. It is very rare
that a ’possum ever shows fight; but should it ever re-
sent the blow of a stick or other weapon, it tries to bite
the instrument rather than the person using it.

In fact, the opossum is the quaker of animals, and,
like other members of the Peace Society, it is willing to
leave everybody alone provided that he is left in peace.
When surprised, it prefers resorting to stratagem rather
than force, and feigns to be dead, in advance of your at-
tack. This trick is so well known, that it has given rise to
the proverb so much in use throughout the States.
When any one is doing something deceptive, he is said to
be “playing ’possum.”

Take an opossum in good health, corner it up until
escape is impossible, then give it a gentle tap on the

 

214! THE TEXAN RANGER.

dey that would hardly crush a mosquito, and it will
straighten out and be, according to all indications, per-
fectly dead. In this situation you may thump it, cut
its flesh, and half skin it—not a muscle will it move;
' its eyes are glazed and covered with dust, for it has no
' eyelids to close over them. You may even worry it
with a dog, and satisfy yourself that it is really defunct ;
then leave it quiet a moment, and it will draw a thin
film from its eyes, and, if not interfered with, will soon
be among the missing.

An Irishman, meeting with one of these little animals
in a public road, was thrown into admiration at its ap-
pearance; 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
of immediately, and I thrust the spalpeen into my coat
pocket. ‘There’s a dinner, onyhow,’ I said to myself ;
and scarcely had I made the observation, when he com-
menced devouring me, biting through my breeches; the
Lord presarveme! I tool: him out of my pocket, and
gave him another tap on the head that would have hilt
an Orangeman at Donnybrook F air. ‘Take that for a
finis, you desateful eratcrl’ said I, slinging him upon
my back. IVell, murther, if he didn’t have me by the
sate of honour in no time. ‘Oeh! ye ’Meriea 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 tilt.
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»

 

THE OPOSSUM. ' 215

‘for some ill-mannered ghost of the devil, with a rat’s
tail : and if I throubles the likes of you again, may I ride
backwards at my own funeral.’ ”

I was turkey-hunting once in Brazos County, when I
came suddenly upon an opossum, sitting in a huckleberry
bush. There was no chance of retreat, and I shall'never
forget the queer face the little animal made; a sickly
smile came upon it, in which I fancied I could read half
a dozen different emotions. It was a smile made up of
terror, of deprecation, and the vanity of all earthly
pursuits; whilst, gleaming through all, was a grin of
cunning, as much as to say, “All’s not lost that’s in
danger.”

Instinctively I snatched at a dry stout branch of a
tree close to me : it was decayed, and rotten as tinder;
whilst, as light as a thistle—down, a little piece about the
size of a sparrow’s egg fell lightly down and touched the
opossum. A butterfly could not have alighted more
gently, but it was quite enough for the beast. Closing
its eyes, as though reluctant to say good-bye to the
light of day, still it was mortally wounded and must
depart; so loosing first one paw and then another, it
rolled down on to the ground apparently dead. It was
on this occasion an unlucky move, for at that instant my
turkey dog arrived on the spot, and changed feigned,
into real death.

There is one other striking characteristic about the
opossum, which we presume Shakspeare had a prophetic
vision of, when he wrote that celebrated sentence,
“Thereby hangs a tail,” for this important appendage,

216 THE TEXAN RANGER.

,

next to its “ playing ’possum,’ is most extraordinary.
The tail is long, black, and destitute of hair, and although
it will not enable its possessor, like the kangaroo, in the
language of the showman, “to jump fourteen feet up-
wards and forty downwards,” still it is of great assistance
in climbing a tree, and supporting the animal when
watching for its prey.

By this tail the opossum suspends itself for hours to-
gether to a swinging branch of a tree, either for amuse-
ment or for the purpose of sleeping, which last it will
do whilst thus “ hung up,” as soundly as if slipping its
hold did not depend upon its own will. This “tail

- hold ” is so firm that shooting the animal will not cause

it to let go, even if you blow its head off; on the con—
trary, it will remain hanging up, until the birds
0t prey and the elements have scattered its carcase
to the winds; and yet, strange to say the tail will
still remain, and continue to be firmly attached to this
last object of its embrace.

This well-known fact- is often chosen by the itinerant
preachers of the Far West.

An old backwoods “ Boanerges ” of our acquaintance,
who occasionally threw down his lapstone and awl, and
went through the country to stir up the people to look

, after the “ consarns of their latter end,” enforced 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, “le brethren, that’s your
situation, exactly. The world, the flesh, and the devil,
compose the wind that is trying to blow you off the

THE OPOSSUM. 217 '

Gospel tree. But don’t let go of it ; hold on as a ’pos-
sum would in a hurricane. If the fore legs of your
passions get loose, hold on by your hind legs of con-
scientiousness; and if they let go, hold on eternally by
your tail, which is the promise that the saints shall
persevere unto the end.”

Another “ hard-shell ” Baptist said to his hearers,
“ Breethren and sisteren dear, ef you have faith, take a
fast bolt on to it, like a ’possum does with his tail to a
parsimmon tree. The rains of doubt may descend, and
the floods of indecision come, and the wind of the world’s
sneers may blow and beat upon you, as the nateral tem-
pests sweep through the forest ; but keep a fast holt, and,
like the ’possum, swing thar till all’s blue.”

The habits of the opossum generally resemble those
of the ’coon and the fox, though they are infinitely less
intelligent in defending themselves from the attacks of
their enemies, and on this account, as an object of chase,
they are far inferior to the others. “Then disturbed in 1ts
nightly forays, it makes at once for the nearest tree; if
it cannot reach this place of refuge in time, it feigns
death, and is at once really killed. Should it succeed in
gaining the tree, it ascends to the very topmost branch
that will support its weight, and the “forerunner of
civilization,”—the axe,—is brought forward, the tree
felled, and the animal secured.

The negroes are the principal hunt3rs of this little
beast, and they highly prize its meat, which can scarcely
be distinguished from that of a young “roasting pig.”

I have eaten it under this nom de dégmsement, when,

 

2i8 THE TEXAN RANGER.

to prevent its recognition, the hand-like paws, rat-tail,
and greyhound-shapedjaws have been removed; and I
enjoyed it too, though I doubt if I should so willingly
have “pitched in,” if I had known what it really was.
Very few of the planters ever condescend to hunt the
opossum. Occasionally, however, one “ crops out,” who,
by the ingenuity with which he follows the sport, gives it
an air of dignity, which the rude methods pursued by the
“ darkeys” lack. These enthusiasts are generally splendid
hunters and shots; men in whom the love of sport is so
great, that in default of a bufl’alo to hunt, they will snare
rats, or fish for sticklebacks in a puddle of water, when
there are no worthier fish at hand for them to beguile.
Sport for the sport’s sake, and not for the pot, is com-
mendable, and so is that of recording the exploits of
hunters—the custom commenced long before the Flood.
The antediluvians had their “Nimrod,” who, we read,
“was a mighty hunter before the Lord,” and since then

 

there have been many mighty hunters, down to our
“ Latter—day Saints,” Gordon Cumming and Baldwin ;
and doubtless these last, in default of the mighty elephant
which they have been accustomed to hunt, would net
object to “assist” at a rat-hunt, when some stack of old
beans is about to be taken in. So, one of the best deer
and bear hunters I ever knew, was not above bringing
down his sporting talents to the pursuit of the lowly
opossum.

It was on my first visit to him, and when I knew but
little about his tastes and pursuits, that I happened one

. morning to say, “that it must be poor sport to kill a

WrFWTWWfl‘ “33”,”, V

THE orossun. 219

’possum, when the little brute, like the coward, had the
foretaste of a thousand deaths.”

“ Pardon me,” said my host, “it is neither the size of
the animal nor its value, that gives me a zest for the
sport; it is because very few, perhaps none but myself,
have ever taken it into their heads to shoot opossums on
a dark night, and with a rifle.”

“On a dark night, and with a rifle?” I said, inter-
rogatively.

“Yes, the darker the better ; to-night, I will convince
you, if you choose.”

The night was “as black as a wolf’s throat,” and I
could not help muttering to myself “ that I should as
soon expect ‘ to catch a hair with a drum ’ as to shoot a
rifle successfully in such black darkness.” My observa-
tion was overheard, and was thus replied to,—“ Those
who live longest will see the most.”

Preceded by a negro with a torch, who piloted us into
the depths of the forest, we soon got about a mile away
from the house, and then the dogs—for we had two of
them—were encouraged to hunt about, and before many
minutes had passed, they gave notice that a ’possum was
afoot, and, presently, that they had “ treed ” it. Of
course, seeing was out of the question, and we could only,
led by our ears, follow our noses, till we came to the tree
at the foot of which, with their snouts high in the air,
the dogs were dancing around, and “barking up the right
tree.”

The darkness seemed to thicken each moment, and I
was fairly puzzled to tell how the game was to be got at.

 

 

 

 

 

 

220 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Had a thick brick wall intervened, the tree-top could
have been no less visible, and having no axe, I was at a
loss to understand what was the next thing to be done.
Not so my companion; for, taking his torch, the negro
soon collected a huge pile of brush and logs, which he
placed about twenty feet from the base of the tree, at the
foot of which the dogs were so merrily barking, and set
it on fire.

As soon as the fire began to sparkle and crackle fiercely,
my friend, requesting me to follow, went to the farther
side of the tree, and, seating himself about fifteen yards
from it, he requested me to sit just behind him; he him-
self having the trunk of the tree, upon which was the
game, between himself and the huge brushwood fire.
The fire continued to burn more brightly each moment,
and the tree that intervened between us and it, became
more prominent, and its dark outline became more and
more distinct, until the most minute branch and leaf was
perfectly visible. “Now,” said my host, “follow with
your eye the trunk of the tree, up one side and down the
other, and then look on the branches, and see if you can
discover anything that looks like an excrescence upon
any of them.”

“ Is not that something about three parts up, be-
tween the large branch on the right side and the one
next to it?”

“ There is something there, but I do not think it large
enough for our game,” said my host.

Nevertheless, he raised his rifle, sighted, pulled the
trigger, and waited the result.

THE opossum. 221

Down came thundering some large fragments of a knot.
The negro picked them up and pitched them disdainfully
into the fire.

Again my host raised his weapon, and sighting at a
large protuberance, pulled the trigger. The shot was
true enough, for another large knotty piece of wood was
again shivered, but no ’possum fell.

Thenthe tree was scanned more closely, and a large
bundle was discovered, which I had passed my eyes care- ‘
lessly over, thinking it was a bunch of Spanish moss, and
from its close resemblance to that parasitical plant, my
friend, too, had, I believe, been of the same opinion.

This time he saw some movement, or else something
whispered to him that it was the little beast, for he again
put up his gun and covered the object. The report of
the rifle was followed by a grunt and a dull heavy thud,
as a small compact body struck the ground ;—it was the
opossum.

The negro threw the opossum across his shoulder, re-
kindled his torch, which he had previously extinguished,
and led the way out of the forest towards the plan-
tation.

 

 

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE AMERICAN PASSENGER PIGEON.

THE Passenger Pigeon of America inhabits a Wide and
extensive region east of the Rocky blountains ; but west-
ivard of this mountain chain they have not been observed.
They are found as far north as Hudson’s Bay, and as far
south as Northern Texas. In the north, they stay as long as
their food remains uncovered by snow, sometimes as late
as December, feeding upon the juniper buds. They are
found over the whole of Canada.

The most remarkable characteristic of these birds is
their flocking together in such immense numbers, both
When migrating and breeding. N 0 other bird is known
to naturalists amongst all the feathered tribes, that con-
gregate in such prodigious numbers. Their migrations
appear to be taken more in quest of food than to avoid
the severities of the climate, as is proved by their often
staying in the Hudson’s Bay territory so late as Decem-
ber, as well as by their visits being so casual and irre-

 

gular sometimes not visiting certain districts for several
years, in any considerable numbers, While at other times
they are innumerable.

In the Winter of 1853, I was in Washington, County
Texas, and for three days I witnessed one of these pigeon
flights. They came from the north-east, in flocks follow-
ing one after the other. Sometimes a flock consisted of

about a hunched birds, and sometimes several thousands.

 

.H..,V.,_‘.,.H7.u,. mat-5.. I, _ . ., ,

THE AMERICAN PASSENGER PIGEON. 223

They flew too high for our shot-guns to reach them, but
two or three friends and myself often fired our rifles into
the masses as they passed over our heads, and we very
rarely fired that a bird did not fall to our shot; for
although we took no aim, the birds flew so closely packed,
that the bullet seldom failed to strike wing, or head, or
body. Kentucky and the Middle States west of the
hiississippi, seem to be their favourite haunts.

Audubon says, “ I have witnessed these migrations in
the Genesee country, often in Pennsylvania, and also in
various parts of Virginia, with amazement ; but all that I
had then seen were mere straggling parties, when com-
pared with the congregated millions which I have since
beheld in our western forests, in the States of Ohio,
Kentucky, and the Indiana Territory. These fertile and
extensive regions abound with the nutritious beech-nut,
which constitutes the chief food of the wild pigeon. In
seasons when these nuts are abundant, corresponding
multitudes of pigeons may be confidently expected.

“ It sometimes happens that having consumed the
whole produce of the beech-trees in an extensive district,
they discover another, at the distance perhaps of sixty
or eighty miles, to which they repair regularly every
morning, and return as regularly in the course of the
day, or evening, to their place of general rendezvous, or,
as it is usually called, ‘the roosting-place.’ These most
places are always in the woods, and sometimes occupy a
large extent of forest.

“\Vhen they have frequented one of these places for
some time, the appearance it exhibits is surprising. The

224: THE TEXAN RANGER.

ground is covered to the depth of several inches with
their dung; all the tender grass and underwood is de-
stroyed; the surface is strewed with large limbs of
trees, broken down by the weight of the birds clustering
one above another; and trees themselves, for thousands
of acres, killed as completely as if girdled with an axe.
The marks of this desolation remain for many years on
the spot, and numerous places could be pointed out
where, for several years after, scarcely a single sign of
vegetation made its appearance.”

As soon as a “roost” is discovered, the inhabitants
flock to it from great distances, bringing with them
tents, sacks of salt, and barrels, as well as the implements
of destruction,—guns, long poles, clubs, sulphur pots,
&c. The attack is made at night, and a short time elapses
before enough are killed to give all hands full employ-
ment for the following day, in plucking, cleaning, salting,
and barrelling the spoils.

A “ breeding-place ” is much greater in extent than a
“roost.” A few years ago there was one not far from
Shelbyville, in the State of Kentucky, which was more
than forty miles long by fifteen broad. In this immense
tract, every tree was said to be covered with nests
wherever the branches could accommodate them. The
pigeons made their first appearance there about the 10th
of April, and, with their young, left it altogether by the
25th of May.

The Indians highly value a. “roost,” or a “breed-
ing-place,” when one happens to be made near their
villages, as they consider it a great piece of luck to be

THE AMERICAN PASSENGER PIGEON. 225

able so easily to provide meat ior their Wigwams without
the toils of the chase.

The noise at one of these immense “ breeding-places ”
is perfectly deafening. At first, the horses which are
brought are terrified, and people have to bawl into each
other’s ears to make themselves heard. At dawn, when
the old birds rise from their roosts to go in search of food
for their young, the fluttering of millions of Wings makes
a noise, to which the roar of a mighty tempest is as
nothing.

Over these “ breeding-places” all day long hover eagles,
hawks, and vultures, which swoop at the old pigeons on
the Wing, or the squabs in their nests ; whilst underneath,
the hogs of the wood—wild or tame—wander about,
picking up those unfortunate fledglings that have rolled
out of their nests, and tumbled to the ground.

Calculations have been made by Audubon, Wilson, and
other writers who have observed the passenger pigeons ;
the numbers at which they have estimated some of
the flocks they have seen, would appear utterly incredible
to people who have never witnessed the like.

One of these immense roosts has been lately dis-
covered in \Visconsin, as in WiZ/ccs’ Spirit of the Times
for June 11th, 1864, I find the following :—

“ THE PIGEON ROOSTS.——Every now and then in the
western country some extensive tract of woods is dis-
covered, which has been selected by the wild pigeons for
a roosting and breeding place. Here they congregate in
such vast numbers, that, in spite of all the modes invented

and practised for their destruction, they increase and
15

226 THE TEXAN RANGER.

multiply. Such a breeding-place is now established for the
season at Hudson, Wisconsin, Where millions of pigeons
are clustered together. Great numbers have been killed
and salted for winter use, by the people of the neigh-
bourhood. No less than eighty-seven were killed by one
man at one discharge of his double-barrelled gun.”

In size, the passenger pigeon is not much larger than
our common wild blue dove, which, in many points
it resembles.

The old—as With all the pigeon tribes—are tough and
uneatable ; Whilst the young are fat, tender, and good for
the table. Some slight estimate may be formed of the
vastness of the American wilderness, by the follow-
ing calculation, and of the immense quantity of “mast”
Which the trees produce. Allowing only one pint as the
share of each pigeon, and supposing only ten millions of
birds to be at one roost, it Will take each day 312,500
bushels of acorns, wild vetches, beech-nuts, &c., for their
daily consumption.

 

CHAPTER XIX,
SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE.

IN describing the fishing, I shall begin Where my readers
would have to land,——should they eyer visit Texas—on
the coast.

Let us suppose ourselves to be upon Galveston Island,
or the mainland, it does not matter Which,—both are so

SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE. 227

Very flat. To your unaccustomed eyes, you would say
this is an unbroken field 5 but I, with more experienced
eyes, can see that fifty yards of there is a stream, where
the grass on either bank blends together so unbrokenly,
that, but for a few well-known water-weeds, I should
have scarcely guessed it. When we arrive upon its
bank, after a few steps, we find it a sluggish, brackish
stream, called a “bayou,” and we follow its course down
to the bay. Here we find plenty of drift-wood, which
we collect; and whilst you make the fire, I will pull
up my trousers and wade in, up to my knees; and as
I throw out the oysters, you will place them in the
embers to roast. In about five minutes I have thrown
out more than a bushel—in their shells : they are large,
and of good flavour, so we make a pleasant lunch. You
will not find a stream influenced by the tide, where there
are not oysters at its mouth, whilst the bay bottoms
are covered with the juicy bivalves.

Now, we will fancy ourselves upon the shore of the
Gulf of Mexico—which, on the south-east, bounds Texas
—or upon the shores of some of the bays. You look
with astonishment at the immense line I hold ; it is as
thick as a window-blind string,vand looks like a young
card. You miss the tapering rod, and the multiplying
reel; you see no gut or slender horse-hair line; they
would be out of place here, for the fish I hope to hook
would smash the rod to pieces, and as for the gut and
silken line, they would be as useless as a hook to catch
a whale with: “ Canst thou draw out leviathan with
an hook ‘9 ”

228 THE TEXAN RANGER.

th line, or cord, is about sixty yards long; on the
casting end is a pound weight of lead; about a yard or
so from the lead is a short line, about two feet in length,
and on this is the hook, a good large wrought hook,
toughened and then hardened; and upon it I place either
a crab, a mullet, or a piece of raw meat. After seeing
my line all clear to run out, one end being noosed round
my left wrist, I swing the lead round my head a time or
two, and when it has reached a great velocity, I let it
shoot out into the blue waves nearly the length of the
line, if it has been a clear cast, and I await the result ;
first, however, taking the cord off my wrist, and putting
it upon a stout, short stick, like a ruler, for I may “ catch
a Tartar.” Presently there is a strong jerk, which nearly
carries the stick out of my hands—no need to strike
your fish, you see he hooks himself—so putting the line
over my right shoulder, and turning my back to the
water, I walk straight away inland, hauling my prize
after me, and when it is out, high and dry, I return to
inspect my prize. Perhaps it turns out to be a three or
four feet long dog-shark; perhaps a fifty pound drum-
fish, a stingaree, or, best of all, a red-fish.

The last is a large, chub-shaped fish, with pinkish scales,
and a slight tinge of red in its flesh—in fact, avery large
species of red mullet; it often weighs forty, fifty, and
sometimes one hundred pounds, and is a very good fish
for the table.

You see, this ocean or bay fishing is a very pulley-
hauley affair , so is a great deal of the river fishing.

We will now go on to the shady bank of one of the

SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE. 229

larger rivers,—say the Brazos de Dios (the Arms of God).
From blufl' to blufl‘ it is here about 180 yards wide,
though, as the river is low now, we will go down to the
lower banks, and here the water is about 100 yards in
width. My line is the same that you saw before, on the
sea-shore—there are fish here that will strain it. This
time I shall put on a piece of bacon-rind, to try for a cat- 3
fish. Again I whirl the lead round my head, and then .
let it shoot out sharp across the stream ; even that heavy
lump of metal does not go sheer down, for the current’s
force against the stout cord, drags it to the middle of the
stream. We have not long to wait ; the cord moves up
the stream—it would not do this unless something was
pulling it in that direction. Now, then, coil up the slack
on the sand, as I haul in, hand over hand. Do you see that
rush, now when the fish finds itself fast ? The cord where
it meets the water, cuts it like a knife-blade, as the fish
shoots down and across the stream, and the tiny spray
flashes white.

It’s no use; if hook and line hold, you must come.
There l did you see that, when it threw itself out of
the water? Another rush or two, and it will be eX-
hausted.

And now, before you go near, let me hack off the gills
and back fins with my hunting-knife. They have each a
long sharp bone protruding, which, in its flurry, it might
wound you with, and they will poison the flesh, though
the fish himself is good enough to eat. This fellow
weighs about thirty pounds. I have seen one that pulled
down eighty-five 5 though the nicest fish for the table

230 THE TEXAN RANGER.

should not be more than from three to five. There are
two kinds of cat-fish, the white and yellow, but there
is not much difference between them when cooked.
The cat-fish has no scales, and is almost as good as an
eel. '

We will now out a long cane (Amado .r/zlqmztea), and,
with fine tackle, try to catch a gaspergeau, a large kind
of white perch; we may lose a hook or two, or break
our cane rod, for the cat-fish is an omnivorous feeder, and
it may visit our bait, but we can soon out another rod
from the cane-brake behind us; and as for hooks and
lines, we have plenty. This time I shall use a shrimp
for the bait. You see, now, why I put that handful of
Indian meal in the shallow this morning, and then
scooped the bait-net under it. There ! you see, I had to
strike English fashion—a game fish this, and fights hard
for its life, but it gives in at last—and there it is; a
silver perch, with faint dark shades from its back down
its sides—a nice size, too; about four pounds ; and now
I’ll show you how to cook it. First, we will build a
fire upon this white sand, and let it get thoroughly hot,
and whilst this is heating, do you gather a lot of those
large vine leaves from that mustang-grape, and I’ll take
out the inside of the gaspergeau, but I must not scale
it, or it will lose its sweetness.

Now that we have wrapped the fish in the vine leaves,
we will bury it in the sand made hot by the fire ; then
raking a goodly heap of the hot sand over it, we will
bring back some of the hot embers and pile them on .
and when the shadow from yondei willow has advanced

SEA, mvnn, AND LAKE. 231

another eighteen inches westward ho! we will disinter
the fish from “the tomb where our hero lies buried.”
Whilst he cooks, let us get our plates—that young ash
sapling is just the thing. See ! I make three rings
around the tree, twelve inches apart, and, then, drawing
one straight perpendicular cut, I insert my knife first,
then my thumb, and gradually force off the bark; and
you see there are two scrolls like rolled paper; these
by rolling them the reverse way, will keep tolerably Open,
and serve for forest plates.

Now spread on a piece of paper the lemon and phial of
red pepper, while I take out the fish and serve it on
its native leaves. At last alliis ready; sprinkle your
share lightly with the cayenne, give a squeeze of the
lemon over all, and confess that woodland fare properly
cooked, properly earned, and properly seasoned, is not so
rough after all.

Do you see those dark shades in the water, sprinkled
about like water-lily leaves, with little sharp points stick-
ing up? Some are the size of five shilling pieces, some as
large as the heads of Wine casks ; they are of all weights,
from an ounce to a- hundred pounds. As it is now mid-
day, the soft-shelled turtles are sunning themselves ;
towards evening they will be on the feed, and we will
try and catch one to carry to camp for our supper; so,
after we have rested a little, we will take the gun and
kill a bird or a squirrel for bait, the entrails of either
being irresistible to the turtle.

Except that their skin or shell is neither so hard nor
so valuable for many purposes, their flesh is no whit in-

232 THE TEXAN RANGER.

ferior to that of the sea or green turtle, for either soups
or steaks, and in New Orleans it brings the same
price.

This time, take your line and throw it out, but
should you see the line move, or feel it give that in-
describable twitch known to anglers, do not strike, as the
turtle’s mouth is all bone. Give it time to gorge, and
you cannot‘lose it.

You’ve got it! Sing out “ Yo hoy !” as the sailors
do when they are heaving up the anchor, and haul in;
it’s only a dead weight, you see, and shows no light
worth mentioning. What do you think of that for your
first fish of that kind? Never mind about trying for
any more; that one weighs twenty pounds at least,
and you’ll find it quite heavy enough to carry, by the
time we get to camp.

I suppose I must tell you how to cook your turtle,
now you have caught it. If you were in a town, Where
you could get spices and everything, you could learn
from a cookery-book; but here, in the camp, on the
river’s bank, we have nothing beyond the ordinary
backwoods condiments to be found in a hunter’s wal-
let.

Of course, you behead the turtle when you draw out
its head from under its shell, to recover your hook, or
it might give you a severe nip, as you take it home
upon your back.

Now cut sheer through between the upper and lower
shells, and the turtle lies open in two halves before you.
Remove the entrails; then from the upper half, with

sm, RIVER, AND LAKE. 233

your sharp hunting knife, cut out the steaks for broiling,
as you would any other meat 5 next you cut out the
pieces of meat here and there, and skin the flappers, if
it be a good-sized turtle, and throw all these odds and
ends into the camp kettle of cold water; add a lemon
cut into little lumps, a few birds-eye red peppers, the
size of peas (they grow on the next bush to nearly every
camp in the woods, pitch it where you may), and a hand-
ful of flour made into a paste with cold water; if the
camp affords it, a little fat bacon won’t hurt it 5 and now
with covered lid, let it simmer on the embers of the
camp fire all night.

In the morning, finish your steaks for breakfast, and
after that, if there is no dead game in camp, go and kill
some—a deer, a wild turkey, or something ; mince the
meat of either of these with your knife, and when very
fine, work it up with flour, salt, and pepper, into sausage
balls, which add to your camp kettle. When you come
in from the forest or prairie towards evening, give
your soup another boil, whilst horses are staked out, dogs
fed, and guns put in proper order,—then you may eat and
be thankful. True, this lacks cloves and catsup, thyme
and nutmegs, Madeira, and hosts of other things ; but,
if you have done a woodsman’s work, you will have
earned a woodsman’s appetite, nor need you care to
change places with any alderman of them all. Your
blanket will seem softer than their downiest bed;
your breathing light and easy, not stertorous, like
the blowing of a grampus; and you will awake in the
morning with a clear head, feeling quite fresh, and

2344 THE TEXAN RANGER.

ready for another day’s work of either business or
pleasure. '

And now to catch the buffalo—not the animal, but
the fish, of that name. It is a kind of river carp, often
attaining great size; and if you fish for it, you must
use a very fine pliable rod, a strong but light line, and a
float.

The bait must be made of cheese, flour, and cotton
(cotton wool),and this must all be well kneaded up:
the only use of the cotton is to hold the rest of the bait
firmly together, as this fish is a “ sucker,” 75. a. it sucks
the food slowly into its mouth, and does not seize its
prey greedily, like most fish. With it, you must not
strike at a “nibble,” only at a decided “bob.” It is
worthless to catch, and worthless to angle for, and I only
mention it because it does afford immense amusement
to the arrow-fishermen. As I am ignorant of arrow-
fishing myself, I must give a description of it, as related
to me by a friend who used to spend half his summer in
this amusement, and was the first to let the world know
that there was such a sport.

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 unruffled 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, however, are
covered with innumerable bubbles, either floating about,
or breaking into little circling ripples.

SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE. 235

To the superficial observer, these air-bubbles mean
little or nothing; to the arrow-fisherman they are the
very language of iris art—visible writing upon the un-
stable water, unfolding the secrets of the depth below,
and guiding him with unerring certainty in his pur-
suitsf

Seat yourself quietly in this little skifi‘, and while I
paddle quietly out into the lake, I will translate to you
these apparent wonders, and give you a lesson in the
simple 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 when 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
you 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, 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 sim-
mering was made by some comfortable turtle, as he opened
his mouth and gave his breath to the surrounding element_

Look ahead of you. When did you ever see an
Archimedean screw more beautifully marked out than
by that group of bubbles.

236 THE TEXAN RANGER;

They are very light indeed, and seem thus gracefully
to struggle into the outer 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-fishermen call “ a feed ;” you see 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 below, as they, around the root of that very
oak, search for insects for food. To these bubbles the
arrow-fisherman 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 familiarized, 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 constant motion with it,
called “ piping.”

Fish thus exposed are in groups, and are called a
‘float.”

The cause of this phenomenon is hard to explain, all
reasons given being unsatisfactory. As it is only ex-
hibited in the hottest weather, it may best be accounted

for in the old verse :—
“ The sun, from its perpendicular height,
Illumined the depths of the sea;
The fishes, beginning to sweat,
Cry ‘ Damn it, how hot we shall be 1’ "

BEA,’ RIVER, AND LAKE. 237

There are several kinds of fish that attract the atten-
tion of the arrow-fishermen. Two kinds only are
professedly pursued—the carp and the “ bufl'alo.”

Several others, however, are attacked for the mere
purpose of amusement, among which we may mention a
species of perch, and the most extraordinary of all fish, .
the “ gar.”

The carp is a fish known to all anglers. Its habits E
must strike every one familiar with them, as being
eminently in harmony with the retreats we have des-
cribed.

In these lakes they vary in weight from five to thirty
pounds, and are preferred by the arrow-fishermen to all
other fish.

The “bufi‘alo ”—another and a coarser species of carp
——is held next in estimation. A species of perch is also
taken, that varies 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-fisherman.

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. These prowl upon the finny tribe, with an appetite
commensurate with its plentifulness, destroying millions
in a day; yet, from their abundance, leaving unknown

238 mm TEXAN RANGER.

numbers to follow, undisturbed, their habits, and the
cycle of their existence. These terrible destroyers have
no true representative in the sea; they seem to be pe-
culiar to the waters tributary to the Mississippi. There
are two kinds of them, alike in office, but distinct in
species ; they are known as the “ gar,” by those who fish
in the streams which they inhabit.

They are, when 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 inflicting 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 impossible to remove without cutting
them out, they are so deeply embedded in the flesh. The
jaws of this monster 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 til/6 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
alligators ; within its wide-extended jaws glisten in-
numerable rows of teeth, running, in solid columns, down
into its very throat. Blind, in its instincts to destroy,
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

SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE. 239

made victims of the mere sport of the arrow-fisher-
men.

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. At the back of this
point 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.

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 the trunk of a tree, shaped according to the
humour 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
ever was the bosom of the loving swan, and that would,
as gracefully as Leda’s bird, spring through the rippling
waves.

The arrow-fisher prefers a canoe with very little rake,
quite flat on the bottom, and not more than fifteen I
feet long, so as to be quickly turned. Place in this
simple craft the simpler paddle ; lay beside it the arrow,

2410 THE TEXAN RANGER.

the bow, the cord, and you have the whole outfit of the
arrow-fisherman.

To the uninitiated, the guidance of a canoe is a
mystery.

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
navigation 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 efi‘ort ren-
ders 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 gaily launches into the stream.
Whether standing or sitting, the master has it entirely
under his control; moving any way with a quickness, and
a pliability, quite wonderful—forward, sideways, back-
wards ; starting off in an instant, or, while at the greatest
speed, instantly stopping still,———and doing this more per-
fectly than with any other water craft of the world.

In arrow-fishing only two persons are employed;
each one has his work designated—the “paddler ” and
the “ bowman.”

Before the start is made, a perfect understanding is
bad, so that their movements are 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 wrr fairing fiza
paddlcfl‘om the water. The fisherman stands at the bow;

SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE. 241

around the wrist of his left hand is fastened, by a loose
100p, the cord attached 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 hand is carried the arrow, and, by its significant
pointing, the fisherman gives directions for the move-
ments 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
perpendicularly, 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 agonizing
life—dancing on the top of the water, and in another
instant it lies dead at the bottom of the canoe.

The shaft is then gone after, picked up, and thrust into
the Spear socket; the cord is again adjusted, and the
canoe moves towards the merry makers of those swift
ascending 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. Besides the knowledge £56gives

242 THE TEXAN RANGER.

of the character of fishes, it practices one in the curious
refractions of water. Thus will the arrow-fisherman,
from long experience, drive his pointed shaft a fathom
deep, for game, when it would seem, to the novice, that a
few inches would be more than sufficient.

Again, the waters that supply the arrow-fisher 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 king-fisher may be seen the livelong day, acting a
prominent part, bolstering up its topknot, as if to apolo-
gize for a manifest want of neck. You can hear him
always scolding and clamorous, among the low brush
and overhanging limbs of trees, eyeing the minnows 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 his rude talons, and borne aloft, the reek-
ing water from its scaly sides falling in soft spray upon
the upturned eye that traces its daring course.

But we treat of fish, 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.

SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE. 243

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 inthe water,
though scarcely heard out of it. There can be seen
rising to the surface a tremendous carp. How quietly it
comes upwards, its pectoral fins playing like the Wings of
a sportive butterfly ! Another moment, and the cold
iron is in its body.

Paralysed 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 effort has destroyed it ; and
without another struggle it is secured.

\Vhen the fish first come into the lakes from a river
freshet, they move in pairs on the surface of the water,
and while so doing they are shot, “flying,” as it is
called.

In early spring, fifteen or twenty fish are secured in an
hour. As the season advances, three or four taken in
the same length of time is considered quite a good
success.

To stand upon the shore, and see the arrow-fisherman
busily employed, is a very interesting and picturesque
sight—in fact, a wonderful exhibition of skill. 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.

2441 THE TEXAN RANGER.

At times, too, when legitimate sport tires, some raven-
ous gar that heaves in sight, is made a victim. Aim is
just taken ahead of its dorsal fin: secured, it flounders
awhile, and then drags off the canoe, as if in harness,
skimming it almost out of the water in its speed.
' Fatigued, finally, with its useless endeavours to escape,

it will rise to the surface, open its huge mouth and
gaSp for air. The water that streams from its jaws will
be coloured with blood from the impaled fish, which
still struggles in terror on its barbed teeth. Rushing
ahead again, it will, by its eccentric movements, try the
best skill of the paddler to keep his canoe from over-
turning into the lake,——a consummation not always
unattained. The gar finally dies, and is dragged ashore ;
the buzzards revel on its carcase, and every piscator con-
templates with disgust the great enemy to his game—
this terrible monarch of the fresh-water seas.

The crumbling character of the alluvial banks that
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, swims
eagerly and swiftly around the snare that is set for it,
and swallows it without the suspicion that a worm is not
a. worm, or that appearances are ever deceitful.

The jointed rod, the scientific reel, cannot be used.

SEA, RIVER, AND LAKE. ' 245

The thick hanging bough, the rank grass, the sunken log,
the far-reaching melumbium, the ever still water, make
these delicate appliances useless.

Of all the angling in the interior streams of the south-
west, arrow - fishing alone (comparatively speaking),
claims the title of cm art. It is pursued with such skill
and thorough knowledge of the art, that tell only with the .'
experienced, but to the novice, arrow-fishing is an impos-
sibility.

The originators of arrow-fishing 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 of comparatively recent
settlement ; scarcely three generations have passed away
within its boundaries. We asked the oldest piscator
that lived in the vicinity of these “dry lakes,” for in-
formation regarding the early history of arrow-fishing,
and he told us that it was “ invented by old Uncle Zac.” .
He gave us his history in a brief, but pathetic manner,
concluding his reminiscences of the great departed as
follows :—~—

“ Uncle Zac never know’d nothing ’bout flies, or tick-
ling trout, but it took Mm to tell the difi’erence ’tWixt a
yarth worm, a grub, or the young of a waSp’s nest; in
fact, he know’d fishes amazin’, and being naturally a
hunter, he went to shooten ’em with a bow and arrer, to
keep up early times in his history, when he tuck Injuns
and other varmints in the same way.”

246 THE .TEXAN RANGER.

The fisherman‘from the Old World, it is true, may
miss the trout and salmon he has been accustomed to
beguile in his native streams; but, on the other hand,
, he will see the forest and the streamlet as they were
I appointed to be by the First Great Cause, where man

has made no “improvements,” as he vainly calls them.

' Ashe seeks the river’s bank at early dawn, he sees
the shy otter, which has been fishing all night, slink off
to his hole. As the sun gets higher, he will see the
silver under-feathers of the great fish-hawk, the osprey,
flashing in the sunlight as he hawks his finny prey.

Later he will see the heron, the tiny blue crane, the
White egret, and the scarlet—hued flamingo, flitting up
and down the stream, or wading in the shallows, each
claiming its share where there is plenty for all.

 

CHAPTER XX.
ALLIGATOR SHOOTING.

EITHER Texan dogs are of a less timid breed, or of a
more happy-go-lucky disposition, than were the Egyptian
dogs, which, we are told, lapped the water of the Nile
running, for fear thecrocodiles should make mutton of
them; for I never remember to have seen a dog in the
Southern States, that was unwilling to face the water, or
to drink at his case, on account of the alligators that

ALLIGATOR SHOOTING. 247

might be lurking in wait for him. Neither hunter nor
piscator, now, ever makes use Of the plan mentioned by
Herodotus, which, he says, was practised On the banks of
the Nile, viz. that of baiting a hook with flesh, and then
attracting the reptile to it by making a pig squeal.

Powder, lead, and the grooved rifle, have changed all
that; still, the habits of the crocodile, or alligator, may
be fairly presumed to be pretty much the same today,
as they were more than two thousand years agO,—a weak~
ness for pOrk being still a very marked characteristic.

The alligator is by no means a pretty Object to con-
template : it has an Open expression of countenance—at
least one-fourth of the reptile is mouth and teeth. The
body is short and round; whilst its tail, in the use Of
which it is most expert, is long and flat. In the water,
the tail acts as scull and rudder ; on shore, it is aweapon
Of defence, and also serves to sweep into its immense
jaws, a strong pig, a dog, or any other trifle that inad-
vertently comes within its range.

Its home is in the loneliest swamps, where the green
stagnant water bubbles and festers, as it exhales its foul
miasma to the air; where production and decay go hand
in hand ; where, from heat and moisture, the fungi seem
to grow visibly before your eyes; and where nothing
but foul birds, foul reptiles, and poisonous plants can
exist.

Although these are their favourite haunts, still they
are to be found in purer streams, such as the larger
rivers; and it is probable that on the banks Of one of
these streams they received from some of the early

248 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Spanish explorers, the name, el Zegarto, tke lizard; and
this, by a corruption, has been gradually converted into
alligator, by which name only they are now known.

Undisturbed, uninvaded by the settler, the alligator
leads a very happy life, and “improves each shining
hour ” by basking in the sun on the hot sand-banks and
bars, whence the heat radiates back, as from a red-hot
ploughshare. It occasionally blows oil? the steam, in a
loud whistle, when the gas, generated in its inside from
air and water, becomes too much for it.

Encased in armour, impregnable to all but shot and
steel, the alligator moves fearlessly through its haunts.
The rattlesnake and the moccasin waste their venom in
vain, when they strike their fangs against its scaly hide ;
the very mosquitoes, that are bred in those stagnant pools,
whose venomous stings drive all other forest animals
nearly mad with pain, expend their fury upon it, in
useless efforts to draw blood from its square scales.
They might as well try to extract blood from a turnip.

The alligator, however, if indifferent, is not uncon-
scious of their presence. Setting wide open its for-
midable jaws, it allows the mosquitoes to enter in
myriads, until the interior is black with the intruders.
It then brings its jaws together with a smart smack,
gives a swallow, and the insects are as easily disposed
of as a child would dispose of a spoonful of sugar, and
again the trap is set for new victims.

An alligator is a luxurious fellow, after his fashion,
basking in the sun, or floating motionless as a log upon
the quiet pool. He passes his time in ease, if not

ALLIGATOR SHOOTING. ' 24.9

with elegance, and enjoys his. pork when it comes in
his way ; or, if that is not handy, the sluggish carp, the
fat bull-frogs, and the fattest snakes, are eaten with as
much gusto as an alderman does his turtle and venison.

When good land induces the settler to clear the forest,
and the haunts of the alligator are disturbed, they become
more intelligent; and they avoid, with some success,
becoming targets for rifle bullets, whilst they “hit back
again,” by destroying the invader’s pigs and poultry, and
very often his dogs.

The following will give some idea of the trouble,
whether living or dead, which the alligators give to a
new settler :—

Some years since, a gentleman in the southern part
of Louisiana, on “Opening a plantation,” found, after
most of the forest trees had been cleared of, that, in
the centre of the land, there was a boggy piece of low
soil, nearly twenty acres in extent. This place was very
very much infested with alligators.

Among the first victims that fell a prey to their
rapacity, were a number of hogs and fine poultry; next
followed, nearly all of a pack of fine deer hounds. It
may be easily imagined that this last outrage was not
passed over with indifference. The leisure time of every
day was devoted to their extermination, until the cold Of
winter rendered them torpid, and buried them up in the
earth.

The following summer, as is naturally the case, the
swamp, from the intense heat, contracted in its dimen-
sions , a number of artificial ditches drained Off the water,

250 THE TEXAN RANGER.

and left the alligators little else to live in than mud,
which was about the consistency of good mortar. Still
the alligators clung with singular tenacity to their native
homesteads, as ii perfectly conscious that the coming
“fall ” would bring them rain.

While thus exposed, a general attack was planned and
carried into execution, and nearly every alligator dea
stroyed. It was a fearful and disgusting sight to see
them rolling about in the thick sediment, striking their
immense jaws together in the agony of death.

Dreadful to relate, the stench of these decaying bodies
in the hot sun, soon produced an unthought of evil.
Teams of oxen were used in vain to haul them away;
the rapid progress of corruption under the influence of a
tropical climate made the attempt fruitless.

On the very edge of the swamp, with nothing exposed
but the head, lay one huge monster, evidently sixteen or
eighteen feet long; he had been wounded in the ozzclée,
and made incapable of moving, and the heat had actually
baked the earth round his body, as firmly as if he were
imbedded in cement.

It was a cruel and singular exhibition to see so much
power and destructiveness so helpless.

W'e amused ourselves by throwing various things into
its great cavernous mouth, which it would grind up
between its teeth. Seizing a large oak rail, we attempted
to run it down its throat, but it was impossible. It
held it for a moment as firmly as if it had been the
bow of a ship, then, with its jaws, it crushed and ground
it to fine splinters.

pr

ALLIGATOR SHOOTING. 20]:

The old fellow, however, had his revenge; the dead
alligators were found more destructive than the living
ones, and the plantation, for a season, had to be aban-
doned.

Business, or pleasure, has often made me a passenger
upon the different steamboats which used to ply upon

the Rio Brazos de Dios, and as the distance from the .

head of navigation to the mouth of the river was four
hundred miles, the ascent against a strong current, or
very often a freshet, occupied generally a week, and
sometimes a fortnight. The time often hung heavy upon
our hands, for there were very seldom many books on
board, and even those we had either read, or they were
not worth reading, so that most of us were driven to our
rifles for amusement. \Ve used to sit on the middle deck,
in the shade, with a cigar in our mouths, and a rifle in
our hands, and pick off the alligators, one after another,
as we discovered them asleep, or basking upon the
banks; and in this way, very often a couple of score
would be disposed of in the course of the morning.

At night, and at certain other seasons, these reptiles
will travel miles through the forest or across the prairies,
and I have often, in my hunting wanderings, put a very
sudden and unexpected end to their pilgrimages.

To the new-comer these monsters are objects of great
dread; but familiarity, as the old writing copy has it,
soon “breeds contempt.”

The largest that I ever killed, and was able to measure,
was fifteen feet five inches from muzzle to tail tip. I
was standing with a friend, leaning over his garden-fence,
which ran along the blufi‘ bank of the Colorado River,

252 THE TEXAN RANGER.

when we saw a large alligator floating like a log down the
stream, and nearly in the centre of the river.

“ A dollar you don’t hit that fellow square in the eye,”
said my friend.

“A dollar I do,” was my reply.

And, resting the rifle on the fence rail, I fired.

“Well, I believe you did do it,” said old George (he
was a native of Leicestershire).

“ I don’t suppose we shall ever know,” I said, for the
alligator, with a tremendous splash, had sunk.

The next day, seeing some turkey-buzzards wheeling
in the air, a couple of hundred yards down the river, we
went there to see what was dead, and in a little shallow
bayou, stark and stiff, lay the alligator; the bullet had
entered the eye as fairly as I could have placed it with
my fingers.

A few days after, when the tushes could be removed,
we went down and got the whole four. (They are natu-
rally hollow, and slip off after a proper time, in the same
manner that a cow’s horn is pulled off after death.) One
of these, carved roughly by myself, for a powder-charger
for a rifle, and long used by me, is now at Northampton.
One of the main points in shooting, is correctness of
aim; it is especially so in alligator shooting ; for although
I believe any bullet striking fair will penetrate, yet,
' should it not impinge squarely, the bullet can be, and
often is, easily deflected.

Close quarters, therefore, correct aim, and a thorough
sense of the impotence of the reptile, will enable any one
to pop them off as easily as rabbits in a warren.

CHAPTER XXI.
SNAKES.

l‘HE serpent is, at first sight, the most repulsive of an
the animated life we meet with. The bravest recoil
from it instinctively, though it may be nothing more
dangerous than one of our common English snakes.

“It has entered into the mythology of every nation,
consecrated almost every temple, symbolized almost every
deity; was imagined in the heavens, stamped upon the
earth, and ruled in the realms of everlasting sorrow.”

Moses lifted up a brazen serpent in the wilderness,
that those afflicted, who looked upon it, might live ; and
it was thus made to foreshadow the great event wrought
for the redemption of mankind; but why it has been so
universally used, seems to be impossible of solution.

The figure of the serpent appears upon the earliest
monuments of Egypt, Syria, India, and China, and it has
been found amongst the ruins of the Aztecs in Mexico-—
in fact, it has everywhere been made typical of wisdom,
power, duration, the good and evil principles, and of
eternity.

Half, perhaps, of the rings, armlets, &c., found in
ancient tombs are formed of single or combined ser—
pents, beautifully variegated. The taste remains to our
day, for many of the Albert watch-chains are “snake
pattern : ” whilst snaky rings still glisten upon fingers as

25% THE TEXAN RANGER.

delicate as those of Pharaoh’s daughter; and arms as
beautiful as Cleopatra’s are encircled with a golden asp.

In this country, Where only the adder is poisonous,—
and even that is but seldom seen,—the dread of snakes
is much greater than What is felt by the inhabitants of
countries where really dangerous snakes exist in abund-
ance.

The prairie hunter or backwoodsman stalks through
the grass or high weeds, where the rattlesnake may be
concealed, with far greater carelessness than a Surrey
gamekeeper traverses the heathy commons.

“Serpents,” says a distinguished naturalist, “have
been improperly regarded as animals degraded from a
higher type; but their whole organization, and espe-
cially their bony structure, demonstrate that their parts
are as exquisitely adjusted to their habits and sphere of
life, as is the organization of any animal conventionally
superior to them.

“Nothing can be more wonderful than to see the
work of feet and fins performed by a modification of the
vertebral column.

“ As serpents move chiefly on the surface of the earth,
their danger is greatest from pressure and blows from
above; all the joints are fashioned, therefore, to resist
yielding, and sustain pressure in a vertical direction.
There is no natural undulation of the body, upward and
downward; it is only permitted from side to side.

“The serpent, simple as it is in form, can, by the
wonderful. wisdom displayed in its creation, outswim the
fish, outleap the jerboa, and, suddenly loosing the close

SNAKES. 255

coils of its couching spiral, it can spring into the air and
seize the bird upon the wing—for all these creatures
have been known to fall its prey. The serpent, without

- arms or talons, can outwrestle the athlete, and crush the
tiger inthe embrace of its pouderous folds; and, instead
of being obliged to lick up its food as it glides along, it
uplifts its crushed prey to its mouth, grasped in the
death coil as in a hand.”

It is customary to say that a serpent swallows its
food ; this is true in a general sense, though not so if we
understand the act as performed by animals of a higher
organization. A boa attempting to swallow a bufi'alo,
and bury it in its capacious maw, or a little garter-
snahe, trying to do the same favour for a juvenile frog,
do not let their precious, but very different-sized mor-
sels tremble for a moment on their palates, and then
disappear. On the contrary, after the meal is prepared,
the bulk may be many times larger in diameter than the
apparent size of the jaws and throat that are to receive
them.

But no difficulty is in the way. The jaws of the ser-
pent not only separate from each other, if necessary——
being held together solely by cartilaginous ligaments ,—
but they have also the power of protruding or retracting
them, one independently of the other. ' By this arrange-
ment, one side of the jaws is extended forward, and the
two rows of teeth of the upper, and the single row of
the lower jaw, are fixed into the prey ; then the opposite
side of the jaws is pushed forward in the same manner,
and so on alternately, until the mass disappears.

256 THE TEXAN RANGER.

The rattlesnake is one of the most poisonous snakes in
Texas, though perhaps it is not the most dangerous, on
account of its warning rattle. Some years ago, when I
was hunting in hIatagorda County, in that state, I met
a friend of mine dragging an immense rattlesnake he
had just killed, which measured seven feet four inches.
It was too heavy to lift and carry, so, after smashing its
head, he had passed a buckskin thong round its throat,
and was dragging it along the prairie grass towards his
house, intending there to skin it, for the sake of preserv-
ing the skin.

Now, I had often heard that rattlesnakes paircd,——-and
that, nearly always, two occupy the same den ; and that
if one is killed and trailed, the other, when it comes out
to feed, will take up the scent of its mate, and follow it
wherever it may lead to. I mentioned this to my
friend, who laughed, and said he did not believe it;
any way, if the other did come, it was welcome,——only it
had. better not let him see it.

That evening, as J H
his evening pipe, upon the verandah of his house, he saw

 

 

was sitting smoking

the mate of the snake he had killed, following the
“drag,” as truly as a hound would run a fresh deer-
track. J H—- reached down his rifle from the
rack, and soon the faithful snake, or rather its skin,
joined its mate’s on the wall of the log-house.

Here is another case of how snakes “pair 2”—

“An afi’ecting story is told of a European family,

 

residing in St. Domingo, in which an only child was
sacrificed by a snake, through the arts of a potted slave.

smms. 257

The negro was a favourite with his master’s household,
but, in spite of this, he became involved in one of those
deep conspiracies that characterized the early history of
the West India Islands.

“In the dead hour of night, the slaves from the
adjoining plantations met in the forest, to concoct their
insurrectionary plans, and to expose and punish any of
their members who had shown reluctance to carry out
their designs for the destruction of the whites. The
slave we have alluded to was, by his confederates, sus-
pected of undue affection for his young mistress, and it
was whispered that, in a general rising, he would make
an effort to save the innocent child from massacre.

“The supposed humanity on the part of the slave,
was pronounced treason in its worst form, and the sus-
pected conspirator, on pain of death to himself, was
ordered, before the next meeting, to destroy his young
mistress, as a proof that he was not a traitor in heart.
The negro—the confidential servant of his master, and
the inmate of the household—accomplished his purpose
without attracting to himself the least suspicion.

“Hunting up the nest of a pair of deadly snakes-—
everywhere to be found in tropical climates—with those
arts peculiar to all semi-savage minds, he enticed them
into the garden, and familiarized them with the vicinity
of the house. His plans being perfected, he announced
to his master and mistress that he had reason to believe
that there was a deadly reptile lodged in the vicinity.
A large reward was offered for its destruction, and in

two or three days the negro brought the female to the
17

258 THE TEXA‘N RANGER.

house, laid it upon the front steps, and received the con-
gratulations of the family for his faithful devotion.

“The moment he was unobserved, be dragged the
dead body of the snake into the house, thrust it through
the lattice-work that divided the sleeping chambers from
the parlours, and then, opening the door of the sleeping
room,he trailed the venomous body across the empty couch
of his young mistress, and concluded by depositing it in
a coil under the sheets, and in the very centre of the
bed. All this being done, he next enveloped the body
of the snake in some broad leaves, hid it about his per-
son, and, unobserved, escaped into the open air.

“ At midnight, when every door was opened, and every
lattice turned up to admit the refreshing breeze, denied
during the day—when all were wrapped in profound
slumber, the surviving snake was searching for its lost
mate. Gradually it approached the dwelling, for it was
on the trail, climbed up the doorsteps, glanced inquir-
ingly about, as fresh evidences of final success seemed to
dawn upon it, and then it stealthily entered the parlour;
straight across the floor it moved, penetrated the lattice,
and mounted the couch. The trail was now warm, and
led the snake under the clothes; the innocent occupant
of the couch brushed the intruder aside, and in another
instant, the deadly fangs of the frustrated and angry
serpent were buried deeply in her bosom.

“ The victim sighed heavily, for the deep sleep of a
tropical climate was upon her, and she slumbered on, to
wake no more in this troubled life, and to present to her
fond parents in the coming morn, instead of a sweet,

SNAKES. 259

doting, intelligent child, an ofi’ensive mass—the most
terrible form of death.”

In the South, the negroes will rarely kill a snake,
giving as a reason that it will bring them “bad luck.”
This idea is evidently traditionary, brought by their
ancestors from Africa.

Many of the negroes appear to have some power of
charming snakes, and will often handle with impunity
any snake they come across.

.A physician of Louisiana, who had a desire to study
the habits of the rattlesnake, kept a number in a cage,
and, for fear of accident, he had it placed in the distant
corner of a large room in which he slept.

It was the doctor’s custom, on his return home at
night, to take a glance at the reptiles, to assure himself
that they had been properly cared for during the day,
and also to see that the door of the cage was securely
fastened.

One night he neglected his usual precautions, and at
once retired. The weather was exceedingly hot, and
notwithstanding his exhaustion, several hours passed
without his being able to go to sleep. Suddenly he
heard a light sliding noise along the floor, and cautiously
looked out to ascertain the cause.

The moonlight was shining full into the room, and to
his horror, he discovered the largest rattlesnake roaming
free about the room. What was to be done? A loaded
gun was at the farther side of the room—but was this
the only serpent out of the cage? were all the rest at
liberty too? The whole household being asleep, the

‘ ' .n-M_.,«

 

260 THE TEXAN RANGER.

doctor concluded it would be best to wait for morning ;
so, taking the precaution to tuck his mosquito-bar with
extra care around his bed, he, thus imprisoned, impa-
tiently watched the issue.

The snake continued his travels, finally approached the
bed, and all became silent.

At daylight, the doctor heard the steps of his servant,
who was coming, according to custom, to perform his
morning duty. The doctor called out to him not to Open
the door, but to go for an old African negro, named
Isaac, who was known to approach all snakes without
fear. The negro came, and entered upon his task con-
fidently: after a moment or two, he found the cause of
alarm sleeping quietly under the bed. The other snakes
were in the cage, although the door was open.

The doctor insisted upon the negro’s shooting the
snake, but he flatly refused, and declared himself able
to seize it without the least fear of being bitten.

Advancing towards the bed, he commenced whistling
and pronouncing soothing words, in the same manner as
the snake-charmers of India ; after some minutes, he
ventured to pass his hands over the back of the snake,
all the time using soothing words 3 finally, he lifted the
snake’s head, and induced it to repose upon his bended
arm and body—the snake suffering all this without be-
traying the least fright or emotion.

The doctor, agitated for the safety of his servant, and
wishing to end the matter, desired the negro to put the
snake in the cage. This, Isaac said, was impossible for
him to do; and upon his approaching the cage, the

SNAKES. 261

snake, as if conscious of his purpose, immediately erected
its head in anger, and sprang its rattle. Upon this,
Isaac walked in another direction, began his incantations,
and the reptile was soon calm.

He then asked for a sheet, by degrees accustomed
the snake to its sight, and then passed one edge of it
between his arm and the reptile’s body, continuing his
soft sounds and walking about all the time. As soon as
he was certain that he could envelope the reptile in the
sheet, he rapidly threw it around him, and the snake was
mastered.

By a series of skilful movements, he got the snake
back into its old quarters, without having received the
slightest inj ury, and thus the adventure terminated ; the
negro, however, declared that he could never again charm
that snake, because he had used his power to deceive
it. '

A hunter in Louisiana used to amuse himself, when-
ever he met with a fine specimen of the rattlesnake, by
endeavouring to catch it alive. This he was enabled to
do, after much experience, by means of along cleft stick,
with which he was accustomed to seize the reptiles by
the back of the head.

One day, when he was posted some distance from his
friends, watching for deer, he perceived a large rattle-
snake, which he seized in his usual manner, and then,
after placing his fingers firmly behind the reptile’s head,
he amused himself by opening its mouth in order to ex-
amine its teeth and fangs. In the meantime the snake,
quite unnoticed by the imprudent hunter, who was en-

Aw ufld‘vv-rrr‘tm

262 THE TEXAN RANGER.

tirely absorbed in his examination of the creature’s head,
had twisted its body into numerous folds around his arm.
Little by little he was conscious of a slight numbness,
accompanied by an alarming pressure of the arm. The
hunter immediately tried to disengage himself. At the
same time, he felt conscious that his power to do so
was every instant lessening, and he had the additional
horror to feel that his fingers were becoming powerless
to retain their hold.

At last the head of the snake began to draw near the
palm of his hand, and the hunter gave himself up as
lost 3 when fortunately, one of his companions at an ad-
joining “stand” heard his cries of distress, and most
Opportunely arrived, armed, as is common in the Southern
forests, with a bottle of ammonia. The cork was hastily
pulled out, and the contents poured into the reptile’s
mouth. Instantly the scene was changed; the reptile
in agony unrolled itself, and fell harmless to the ground;
then with a successful blow, its head was separated from
its body with a hunting-knife.

It is disputed by most naturalists, that snakes have
any power of fascination.

People who live in crowded cities, and who only re-
ceive from abroad specimens preserved in alcohol, and
tightly bottled up, or who receive the preserved dried
skins or stuffed snakes, feel assured, from wizat flzey see
before flzem, that the power of fascination is a fable. To
decide upon their real powers, they must seek them in
their haunts ; the living eye must be seen, not the dead
dried-up skin. The rattlesnake’s eye certainly possesses

SNAKES. 263

a fascinating power, which is acknowledged by the
humbler class of animals and birds; and even man, with
all his boasted powers, has felt a thrill of helplessness
pass through his soul, as he beheld that mysterious eye
glaring full upon him.

An American writer says, “Approach a rattlesnake,
and with the first convenient thing dash out its brains,
but dare not to make a close examination of the death-
dealing object before you. If its spiral motions once
find a response in the music tune-markings of your own
mind—if you look into those strange orbs, that seem to
be the openings into another world—if that forked
tongue plays in your presence, until you find it as vivid
as the lightning’s flash, and the meanwhile the hum of
those rattles begins to confuse your absorbed senses—you
will be conscious of some terrible danger, that you
stand upon some dread purpose, that your blood is start-
ing back from your heart; and you can only break
through the charm with an effort that requires the whole
of your resolution.”

A well-authenticated story is told of a Mr. Roive, of
Philadelphia, who was riding out one morning to visit a
friend, when his horse refused to go forward, being terri-
fied at a large rattlesnake that lay across the road. Mr.
Rowe believed in the power of snakes to charm, and
alighting from his horse, attempted to lead the animal
rormd the object of terror. The snake, meanwhile, coiled
itself up, sounded its rattle and stared its enemy full in
the face, and with such fire in its eyes, that Mr. Rowe
felt the cold sweat break out upon him, and he was con-

2644 THE TEXAN RANGER.

scious that he neither had the power to retreat nor to
advance. However, his reason remained, and getting
the better of his alarm, he suddenly approached the
reptile, and, with one stroke of his cudgel, knocked out
its brains.

The food of the rattlesnake is, in a great measure,
composed of small animals and birds superior to itself in
fleetness; and it is only able to seize its prey when
coiled up, and consequently it is quite incapable of
giving chase. In addition to this, when attempting to
seize its prey, the snake emits a strong odour, which has,
perhaps, the effect of stupefying its victim. The rattle-
snake, then, which never steals upon its object, and is
only capable of seizing its food when coiled up and
stationary, would never be able to obtain food at all, if
nature had not given it the power to attract its prey
within its deadly reach.

On one occasion I was hunting over an old cotton-
field, when I perceived a huge rattlesnake coiled up
under a tree, upon a bough of which, perhaps six feet
above, was a small hawk. The reptile was in a high
state of excitement; its head waved to and fro, and
otherwise it indicated the phenomenon of charming.
~Without hesitation I discharged the contents of my gun,
and literally cut the creature to flinders; at the same
instant the hawk fell heavily to the ground, so help-
less that we thought a scattering shot had struck
it. In a moment, however, the hawk commenced flut-
tering and rolling on the grass, as if sui‘liering from
intoxication; gradually it recovered the use of its

sums. 265

wings, and screaming with terror, passed beyond my
sight.

This power of fascination is not confined to the rattle-
snake ; and perhaps the most extraordinary story of snake
fascination appeared in the St. Louis H emlcl, 12th July,
185%. In this case the reptile was a black snake, seven
feet six inches long, and its victim a young girl thirteen
years of age, whose father lived in Franklin County,
Missouri.

“ The fact was first noticed that the girl, from perfect
health, began to decline, and finally wasted away to a
mere skeleton. On the arrival of spring, she could not
be prevailed upon to eat in the house, but insisted upon
taking her bread and meat to the banks of a neighbour-
ing creek.

“ The neighbours, having heard of the child’s extraor-
dinary conduct, and also of her wasted appearance,
suggested to her father to watch her movements, which
was done on a succeeding Friday. The child had been
sitting on the bank of the creek all the forenoon, until
near dinner-time, when she got up, went to the house,
and asked for a piece of bread and butter, and again
returned to her place of watching.

“ The father stealthily followed the child, and to his
horror he saw a huge black snake slowly raise its head
into her lap, and receive the bread and butter from
her hand 5 and when she would attempt to take a bite of
the bread, the snake would become very angry, when the
child, trembling like a leaf, would promptly return the
food to the monster. The father was completely paralysed,

266 THE TEXAN RANGER.

not being able to move hand or foot; the blood fairly
clogged in his veins, and he groaned in agony. This
caused the snake to become alarmed, and it glided away
into the creek and disappeared.

“ Upon being questioned, the child refused, or appeared
incapable of giving any answers. It was finally deter-
mined that the child should go again the next day, and
that the snake should be thus allured ashore and killed.
The next morning the child took the bread to the creek
as usual, and the moment the monster made its appear-
ance, the father, who was on the watch, fired, and shot
it through the head. The child swooned—the snake
writhed about and died ; the child recovered, and swooned,
and recovered, and swooned again, and finally died,
seemingly in the greatest agony.

“This horrible, and at the same time melancholy
occurrence, is the first we have heard of for a long time,
and in fact the first we ever knew of, where we could
positively vouch for its truthfulness. ”We know that
there are persons who doubt the reality of such fascina-
tion, but if they entertain any doubts on this subject
hereafter, the relations of this unfortunate little girl
can be found, ready and willing to corroborate our
statements.”

It appears that the excitement of charming is posi-
tively necessary to the rattlesnake, to enable it to take
its food. Nature seems to have provided this singular
peculiarity, to call the salivary glands into action, and
thus soften the muscles of the throat, so as to give
them the elasticity necessary to enable them to swallow.

SNAKES. 267

A Louisiana planter, who had a large rattlesnake con-
fined in a cage, gave it a half-grown rat after it had fasted.
three or four months. To his surprise the snake paid not
the least attention to the intruder, and in a few hours
the rat and the snake were living on peaceable terms.
The rat ate its food with relish, and paid no attention to
the reptile.

At the expiration of two or three. weeks, the gentle-
man had his attention called to the cage by warlike
sounds ; and looking in, to his surprise, he discovered the
snake coiled up in the attitude of defiance, its head wav-
ing to and fro, its eyes glistening with anger, and its
rattle making a continued hum. The rat, meanwhile, as
if conscious of its doom, exhibited every symptom of
terror, and yet constantly approached its enemy. The
reptile having finally prepared itself for the fatal blow,
darted with lightning rapidity upon the rat, and soon
engulphed it in its capacious throat.

This example is satisfactory. It proves, as already
mentioned, that the snake has to go through the excite-
ment of charming, to enable it to take its food. For
weeks previous, and at any moment and without cere-
mony, it could have snapped up the rat as it lay upon
the floor of the cage; and yet finally it had to go
through all the “motions” as though the rat had been
in freedom.

A Southern gentleman, who took a great deal of in-
terest in the habits of rattlesnakes, mentioned that a
negro once brought him one and offered it for sale. To
show the size and beauty of the creature, he took it out

268 mm TEXAN RANGER.

of the small wooden box in which it was confined, and
fearlessly let the serpent loose upon the ground. The
reptile began to glide in a sinuous, undulating, but gentle
course along the verandah. Seeing it approach the limits
of the adjoining premises, he ordered the negro to bring
the reptile back. The negro immediately captured the
snake by seizing it with his hand at the back of the head.
The gentleman, upon examining the snake attentively,
discovered two long and terrible fangs projecting from
the upper jaw, which he had understood the negro to say
had been extracted.

The negro, upon being told of the danger he ran in
seizing the snake in his naked hand, replied, that there
never was any danger when the snake was not coiled up
and prepared to strike.

Audubon, trying to prove that snakes do not fascinate,
says that “ he had a rattlesnake and a thrush confined in
the same cage a cage so large that the bird easily
escaped out of the reach of the monster. For a long

 

time the snake made vain attempts to seize the bird, and,
finally, only succeeded by lying down close to the cup of
water, and there waiting for the bird.

“ The thrush showed great uneasiness, and would dash
at the water and then retreat: it finally, as the great
ornithologist thinks, fell a prey to its enemy, whilst
endeavouring to quench its thirst.”-

Our conclusion is, that the snake never possessed in-
telligence enough to go through the complicated argu-
ment, that the thrush must come to the water or perish
with thirst: on the contrary, the snake being near the

SNAKES. 269

water was an accident, and the bird, instead of dashing
down to drink, was really in the toils of the charmer,
and was vainly struggling to make its escape.

Rattlesnakes have their antipathies, and those known
are very strongly marked. In Texas, particularly be-
tween the Nueces River and the Rio Grande, the largest
rattlesnakes in the world exist ; and at certain seasons,
particularly the autumn, when the snakes are blind from
a superfiuity of venom, it is dangerous to “ camp out ”
without due precaution.

Hunters have many devices to protect themselves, but
the most simple and effectual is to encircle the place of
bivouac with a long black horsehair cabros or lariat. The
snakes will never cross this magic circle.

In more northern latitudes it has been found, that the
rattlesnake will not live where the white ash grows in
abundance. It has even been the practice amongst
hunters, who traverse the forests in summer, to stuff
their boots, moccasins, and pockets with white ash leaves,
for the purpose of securing themselves against being
snake-bitten; and it is said that no one taking this pre-
caution was ever bitten.

Judge \Voodruff, formerly a resident in Ohio, relates
that he was with a small hunting party on the lVIahoning
River, looking for deer. The party took their station on
an elevated spot, fifteen or twenty yards from the water’s
edge. Here they watched for the wished-for game ; and
while waiting, they saw a large rattlesnake which had
crawled out from the rocks beneath them, and was slowly
making its way across a narrow smooth sand-bank

270 THE TEXAN RANGER.

towards the river. Upon hearing the voices of the men,
the snake halted, and lay stretched out with its head
near the water.

It was now determined to try ash leaves. Accordingly
search was made, and a small white ash sapling, eight or
ten feet long, was procured; and, with a view to make
the experiment more satisfactory, a sapling of maple was
also cut. In order to prevent the snake’s retreat to its
den, the Judge approached in its rear, and when he had
advanced within ten feet of it, the snake coiled up its
body, elevated its head several inches, brandishing its
tongue, and thus signified its readiness for battle.

The Judge then presented his white ash wand, placing
the leaves upon the body of the snake. The reptile in-
stantly dropped its head upon the ground, unfolded its
coil, rolled over upon its back, twitched and twisted its
whole body in every form but that of a coil, and gave
signs of being in great agony. The white ash was then
laid by, upon which the snake immediately placed itself
in a coil, and assumed the attitude of defence as before.

The sugar-maple stick was next used. The snake
darted forward in a twinkling, thrust its head “with all
the malice of the under fiends,” and the next moment
coiled and lanced again, darting its whole length with the
swiftness of an arrow.

“ After repeating this several times,” says the Judge,
“I changed its fare, and presented to it the white ash.
It immediately ‘ doused its peak,’ stretched itself on its
back, and writhed its body in the same manner as at
the first application.

SNAKES. 2’71

“ It was then proposed to try what effect might be
produced upon its courage and temper by alittle flogging
with the white ash. This was administered, but, instead
of arousing it to resentment, it only served to increase its
troubles. As the flogging grew more severe, the snake.
frequently thrust its head into the sand as far as it could,
and seemed desirous to bore into the earth, and try to get
rid of its unwelcome visitors.

“Being now convinced that the experiment was a
satisfactory one, and fairly conducted on both sides, we
deemed it ungenerous to take its life, after it had con-
tributed so much to gratify our curiosity; and so we
took our leave of the rattlesnake, with feelings as friendly
at least as those with which we commenced our acquaint
ance with it, and left it at leisure to return to its den.”

The rattlesnake creates a great deal of alarm amongst
deer, and it is seldom that a buck will let it escape with-
out giving battle. Their manner of attack is very singular
and efl'ective. The buck trots round the snake for some
time, as if desirous of confusing it ; then, starting off,
it makes a tremendous sweep round, and coming near the
snake, bounds into the air, gathering all four pairs of its
sharp hoofs together, and brings them directly upon the
folds of the serpent; then, separating its feet with won-
derful quickness and force, the snake is cut into shreds,
if the coup has been successful.

Whenever the rattlesnake and the black or king
snake meet, combats between them are certain and ter-
rible; and it is seldom that the rattlesnake comes oif
conqueror.

272 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Upon seeing each other, they instantly assume their
respective attitudes of defiance, and display the differ-
ences in their organization. The rattler coils itself up
ready for attack or defence; the black snake, being a
constrictor, moves about from side to side, and is in con-
stant activity—thus mutually exciting each other’s pas-
sions. The rattler finally settles down into a glowing
exhibition of animosity, its head thrown back, its fangs
exposed, its rattles in constant agitation.

The black snake, seemingly conscious that the moment
of battle has come, now commences circling round its
adversary, absolutely moving so quickly, that it seems
but a gleam of dull light. The rattler attempts to
follow the movement, but soon becomes confused, and
drops its head in despair: then it is that the black snake
darts upon the back of the neck of its foe, seizes it be-
tween its teeth, and, springing forward, envelopes the
rattlesnake in its folds.

The struggle, though not long, is painful; the comba-
tants roll in the dust, get entangled in the bushes ; but
every moment the black snake is tightening its hold,
until the rattlesnake gasps for breath, becomes helpless,
and dies.

For a while the black snake still retains its grasp. You
can perceive its muscles working with constant energy.
Finally, it cautiously unfolds itself, and quietly betakes
itself to the water; Where, recovering its energy, it
dashes about for a moment, as if in exultation, and
then glides off the scene.

Of all the enemies which the rattlesnake, and snakes

SNAKES. 273

in general, have to contend with—next to man,—the hog
is the most destructive. An old sow, with a litter of pigs
to provide for, will hunt for the reptiles with a perseve-
rance and sagacity truly astonishing,—-tracking them by
their scent to their hiding-places, and never letting them
escape. In the Western States, in early times, and now
throughout the country, if rattlesnakes become trouble-
some in any locality, a drove of hogs is turned into their
haunts, and the snakes soon disappear.

The hog, when it sees a rattlesnake, instantly erects its
bristles and back, and begins to rattle its tusks. The
snake accepts the challenge, and prepares for defence.
The old porker seems to understand what parts of its
body are invulnerable to poison, so it goes down upon
its knees, and in‘this awkward position it- deliberately
crawls up to the enemy by a sidling motion.

The snake darts forward, and the hog dexterously
catches the fangs on the fat that swells out its jaws. The-
blow is repeated, and the hog, having been smitten on.
one check, deliberately turns the other. This the animal
continues to do, till the snake has not only exhausted all
its poison, but, for the time being, its strength also.

The hog then rises from its knees, and, regardless of
consequences, seizes the serpent near the head, puts its
fore-feet on its writhing body, strips the reptile through
its teeth, tears it to pieces, and eats it. If the hog, as
is sometimes the case, happens to be very lean, and the-
poison fangs strike the circulation of the blood, it will
die from the wound, but this very rarely happens.

In autumn, snakes seek a secure hiding-place, where
18

274 THE TEXAN RANGER.

they can pass the cold months of the year; but in Texas
and other warm climates, they only “layup ” during
“ northers,” or cold Winds.

An American doctor, Dr. Grilman, spent several months
in Arkansas, catching and dissecting the. different kinds
of snakes that abound there. He found that the poison—
ing apparatus of all serpents was alike. ‘

“It consists of a strong framework of bone, with its
appropriate muscles in the upper part of the head, re-
sembling, and being in fact, a pair of jaws, but external
to the jaws proper, and much stronger. To these are
attached one or more moveable fangs on each. side, just
at the verge of the mouth, and capable of being erected
at pleasure. The fangs are very hard, sharp, and crooked,
like the claws of a cat, with a hollow from the base to
near the point.

“At the base of these fangs is found a small sac, con-
taining two or three drops of venom, which resembles
clear honey. The sac is so connected with the cavity of
the fang during its erection, that a slight pressure up-
ward, forces the venom into the fang, from which it
makes its exit with considerable force.

“ The rattlesnake does not bite, but throws its fangs
forward with tremendous force, literally hitching them
as hooks into the destined victim ; and in the rude assault,
the poison is driven into the wound with the rapidity of
lightning, and as unerring as is always the shaft of death.
Unless the fangs are erected for battle, they lie concealed
in the upper part of the mouth, sunk between the in-
ternal and external jaws, something like a penknife blade

SNAKES. 2'75

shut in its handle. These fangs are frequently broken
off, but are replaced by new ones, the rudiments of which
always appear on careful examination.

“ During, the process of robbing several species of ser-
pents, I inoculated some small, but vigorous and perfectly
healthy vegetables, with the point of a lancet well
charged with :venom. The next day they were withered
and dead, looking as though they had been scathed by
lightning.”

The vitality of the snake is a matter of observation
with all acquainted with its habits. The negroes on the
plantations say that one never dies until after sundown
—no matter how much killed.

The following tall yam may be believed or not, as my
readers please. “ I tell the tale as ’twas told to me.”

“ Some flat-boat men, on one occasion, captured alarge
black snake in the Tallahatchie River, and put it into a
cage, for the sake of amusing themselves with its struggles
to escape. Accidently finding a mole about the size of

, a mouse, they put the grozmdling into the snake’s cage.
E The reptile at once gulped it down, but the mole, making
no difference between the sides of its prison-house and
i the solid carth,—— much to the astonishment of the flat-boat
men,—ate its way out of the snake’s side; whereupon it
1 was swallowed again, and again it gnawed its way to day-
1' light. The snake, getting a dinner under difficulties, once
', more titillated its throat with the oft-repeated morsel,
3 but with no more success in keeping it on its stomach,
: than the Irishman had with the emetic. .
“A fourth time the snake vainly attempted to engulph

 

276 THE TEXAN RANGER;

its dinner, but it was too much exhausted, and gave it up
as an impossible job. The mole, so well calculated to make
its way through the world, was put on shore as a reward
for its bravery; and if it ever thinks at all, it must be
very much amused at its adventures with the fiat-boat
men on the roaring river of the sunny land of Florida.”

The Indians are said to cure snake-bites by the use 01
a plant called the “ snake-root.” Many negroes pretend
to have some infallible cure; but, in the course of six-
teen years’ wandering in Texas, I myself have always
used whisky.

On one occasion a negro came to me, bitten by a rat-
tlesnake on the ball of his large toe. I gave him half a
pint of raw spirit, and, in about five minutes, a second
dose; as neither had any effect upon him, I gave him a
third tumblerful. By this time his master, who had been
sent for, arrived, and I turned the case over to him. He
gave him quite as much more, before the negro showed
the least sign of intoxication.

At any other time, one tumbler of undiluted whisky
would have made the negro helplessly drunk ; but under
the influence of the poison, it required fully three pints
of whisky to affect him. The next day, save a little
stiffness, the negro was well.

On another occasion I gave a favourite hunting horse
two quarts of whisky, when he was bitten by a highland
moccasin snake, and he recovered, though he was stiff for
a week afterwards.

At another time, I drenched apointer with a teacupful
of whisky, for a snake bite, and she recovered.

fanoursrrs HUNTING- wuarons. 2-77

Although many doctors talk very learnedly about am-
monia and other drugs, when merely d’scussing the
question, I have invariably found them fly to alcohol,
when they have had a case to treat.

It is a common saying in the South and West, that
“a snake is just wasting his time to bite a drunken
man.”

There is, however, less danger of being bitten by ser-
pents, than most Europeans would suppose; and I do
not think that, during the long time I was in Texas, I
saw more than five or six people bitten by snakes, though
I was leading a life on different plantations, amongst
hundreds of slaves, where I should have been likely to
see plenty of cases, had the snakes been so dangerous as
many people imagine.

CHAPTER XXII.
REQUISITE HUNTING WEAPONS.

IN commencing this chapter, I propose giving a short, and
therefore necessarily incomplete, enumeration of the
most useful weapons.

First of all, I should recommend the intending emi-
grant to purchase a good, strong, plain, serviceable gun,
rather than a pretty-looking one, whose steel outer furni-
ture is fancifully engraved with pheasants, pointers, and
the like; because all this carving holds moisture and pro-

 

278 THE TEXAN RANGER.

vokes rust. For twenty or five-and-twenty pounds, two
very good, strong pair of barrels may be obtained—one
pair rifled and the other smooth—with the locks, stocks,
‘ &c., to match; but they should be twins, so that either
pair of barrels would fit either stock. The shot-barrels
should be at least thirty inches in length, and N o. 10
-‘ guage. But the rifle barrels, being heavier and having
so much more metal in them, need not be more than
twenty-four inches long, and should be bored to carry a
round ball of about twenty-five or thirty to the pound,
i. e. slightly over half an ounce each.

Both the fore and hind sights should be very fine,
much finer than any of the sporting rifles I see exposed
for sale by the London gun-makers ; in fact, I have never
seen a sporting rifle properly sighted, except in America.
The rifle should be sighted to shoot for a hundred yards,
so as to draw a bead on a bee’s knee. You may have
several other sights, which you can raise at pleasure, ad-
justed for any distance up to a thousand yards 3 but, in
my opinion, these are unnecessary on a sporting rifle,
however suitable they may be upon a military weapon 3
for, the man who cannot get within a hundred yards
of his game, upon a bare, open prairie, is no hunter,
but a muff and a bungler; and in the forest he will get
more shots at deer under one hundred yards——aye, under
fifty—than at a greater distance, always supposing he
knows the first principles of his business,

A great many people fancy a gun with one barrel rifled
and the other smooth. I have nothing to say against their
taste, only that it is not mine. When I go fishing, I go

BEQUISITE HUNTING WEAPONS. 279

to fish ; when I go after large game, I intend, if wood-
craft holds good, to have them ; whilst, should I take it
into my head to shoot small game, I want both barrels
smooth, to kill my right and left shots like a workman,
and not be eternally regretting that my rifled barrel is
of no use when the quail or prairie hens (pinnated grouse,
Tefmo cupido) are rising all round me. On the other
hand, having made a bad shot, which only serves to
enrage a bear or a wild bull, I feel much more confident
as he charges down upon me, when I know that there is
a good, sound lump of solid lead in my remaining barrel,
which will bring up my fee with a round turn, than if it
was only a charge of N o. 6 shot, which would have about
as much effect in arresting my enemy, as a child’s squirt
full of water.

The American backwoodsmen are nearly all splendid
shots with the rifle, up to a hundred yards; for, being
also good himters, they can approach close to their
game. But very few of them can, with a smooth-bore,
shoot abird flying, or a hare running,—in fact, they
look down with contempt upon What they term a
“scatter-gun,” but the man who can handle both de-
cently, has a great advantage over those who confine
themselves to one particular arm. I found it a great
advantage to use both; for, through the long period I
lived in America, scarcely a day passed that I did not use
either the shot-gun or the rifle, and often both on the
same day; I found that the rifle gave me precision, and
the smooth-bore quickness, in shooting, and I seldom
burnt powder for nothing.

280 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Often after I had, with my rifle, killed meat enough in
the morning to feed a hundred people, I have taken up
my old double-barrel, loosed the pointers, and killed
ten or fifteen couple of quail in the cool of the evening,
just to exercise my dogs and keep my hand in; and
when in such constant practice as this, if I ever caught
sight of two bounds of a deer, even in the thickest covert,
and only armed with a rifle, I hardly ever failed to make
meat of it.

I take it for granted that my readers all know some
little about a gun, though they may have had scarcely
any practice with one. However that may be, I have
not space to tell them how a gun is made, which they
can learn from many books upon guns and rifles. All I
can do is to give them a few short cautions and a little
advice‘

Never put your charge of shot or bullet in before the
powder; or, if using a double gun, do not put all the
powder into one barrel, though I have seen many instances
of this in men who ought to have known better; but,
they have either been careless, or rendered excited by
some incident in the chase, and did not pay proper at-
tention to what they were doing.

N ever carry your gun with the hammers down on
the caps; nothing can be more dangerous, as a blow,
or sometimes even a slight jar, has been sufficient to ex-
plode them; besides, a twig, the skirt of your coat, or
some other trifle, might catch and slightly raise the cock,
which, when released, would be certain to fire the caps,
and discharge the gun. At half-cock there is no danger.

REQUISITE HUNTING WEAPONS. 281

Never over-charge, nor muler—charge your gun, as
either will interfere with its shooting. Never use a
dirty gun—it is a slovenly habit; and when in the pur-
suit of large game, such as a bear, a panther, or a bison,
it is a dangerous risk to run; for should the tubes be
foul, and your gun miss fire, the tables may be turned,
and the lmmted may perhaps become the hunter.

If your barrels are very dirty, wash them with warm
water and soap—if not very dirty, cold water alone will
do. Change the water, and the tow on your cleaning
rod, frequently, till neither is stained by the barrels.
\thn quite clean, scald out your barrels, and set them,
muzzle downwards, to drain. Put on fresh tow, or,
better still, a piece of woollen cloth, and work them out
well till perfectly dry. Drop a few drops of animal oil
on an old tooth-brush, and brush well the nipples, ham-
mers, and the furniture of the gun generally.

Unless 3/026 know 710w, do not attempt to take ofi' your
locks and pull them to pieces, as you will probably break
a screw, or spring, or something else. No written de-
scription will teach you to do this, though when you
have seen it done a time or two, you will be able to do
it yourself as well as a gun-smith.

Always use the cleanest and strongest shooting powder
you can get—it may cost rather more, but it is well
worth the extra price. Never leave your caps, or powder-
flask and bullets, in your other old shooting-coat: you
will be very likely to want them when you are half-a-
dozen miles away from home, face to face with a wounded
wild cow. Never dwell upon your aim, for the longer

282 THE TEXAN RANGER.

your arm is on the strain the more tremulous it may
become, to say nothing of the object changing its posi-
tion. Of course, with a rifle you must take an accu—
rate aim; all I advise is, not to get into a habit of
changing your aim, but fire at once.

In using a shot-gun, the shooter should look hard
at the running animal, or the flying bird, and as soon
as his gun touches his shoulder he should pull the
trigger; no attempt should be made to follow the line
of the barrel as well as the bird, or there will be a
“ miss ;” for, whilst the shooter is winking and blinking
from his gun to the game, the latter will either have
got out of harm’s way, or the gun will get moved oil“ the
object.

Nascz'szr, 72072 fit, applies to the crack shot quite as
much as to the poet. Though all who have no natural
impediments, such as being near-sighted, may by prac-
tice become very decent shots, yet not ten out of every
hundred ever become first-class workmen.

Breech-loaders are out of the question for the emi-
grant; for how is he to renew his cartridges when his
stock is expended ? Although they doubtless have many
advantages over the muzzle-loaders here, where ammuni—
tion of every variety can be easily obtained, it is alto-
gether another afihir when the shooter is in the interior
of a wild country, five or six hundred miles distant
from any seaport. For this reason I shall, for the
present at any rate, stick to my old friends, the muzzle-
loaders.

The pea-rifle, about which so many correspondents

REQUISITE HUNTING WEAPONS. 283

write, would be of but little use to the emigrant, though of
course he could, when he had learnt to shoot accurately
with it, kill quantities of small game; but the ball is
so small (only the size of a pea, from which it derives its
name), as to be of little value for the larger classes of
game. A deer, or even a turkey, wounded by one of
these little pellets, would, unless shot through some vital
part, be certain to run off into the recesses of the forest,
and thus be lost, although it might eventually die from
its wound, It is poor satisfaction to kill anything,
and then to lose it, without being able to make use of
it for food. Even if you are shooting dangerous animals,

I

or reptiles, it is as well. to kill them as suddenly and with
as little pain as possible ; whilst to pepper away at
animals useful for food, and only to cripple or lose them,
is, in my opinion, a crime.

In shooting game, then, at short distances, I recom-
mend a round bullet, as it has a more stunning effect
than a conical ball, and smashes through bone and
muscle, where the sharp point of the latter missile is apt
to glance, if it does not strike fairly the point aimed at.

It is wonderful how many persons who ought to know
better (although it is excusable and done for want of
practice) when they fire at a large animal, such as a deer,
the first few times, shoot at him all over, and ten to one
miss him ; for although the beast is a pretty good sized
object, the rifle bullet is but a little thing, and the
slightest inaccuracy, when the “bead” is drawn, will
throw it out a yard or more, according to the distance
and the want of precision in the aim. Let all game-

2845 THE TEXAN RANGER.

shooters with the rifle remember, then, to fix a target on
their objects and shoot at that—2'. .9. mark a spot upon
the deer, either behind his fore-shoulder, where the shade
is thrown between his shoulder and his ribs, or at the
lightly-shaded spot on the butt of a turkey’s wing, or at
any rate fix upon some particular mark to hit, and try to
hit it. I hope the reader understands that I am only
describing the guns I found useful for Texas ; for India
or Africa, where the lion, the elephant, and rhinoccrous
are to be encountered, heavier rifles are needed. I am
only speaking of the proper weapons with which to kill
meat for himself and family. If he goes after ivory, let
him consult Cumming, Baker, Baldwin, and othe: Nim-
rods, all of whom go fully into their subject, an S. all of
whom, being men of means, could get a proper armament.
I landed in Texas with one solitary quarter of a dollar
(one shilling and one ILaZflJeizfly), one small double gun, a
few clothes, totally unfit for the climate, and I had to work
to keep body and soul together, whilst I learned the hunt-
ing business and earned enough money to buy my arms
at the same time.

N one of my remarks, therefore, apply to experienced
hunters and men of large means; I only allude to an
equipment of gun, rifle, knife, and pistol, which would
cost something less than forty pounds. The air-gun and
air~cane, although very dangerous weapons to their own-
ers, and which may be all Very well for those who choose
to use them in a rookery or a rabbit warren, are totally
unfitted for foreign sports ; and, should they come to grief,
it is a question whether they could be repaired abroad.

REQUISITE HUNTING WEAPONS. 285

I should, then, as an emigrant of but small means and
sporting tastes, confine myself to the double rifle and
shot gun, as before mentioned, and the following kind of
knife and pistols.

The knife, if intended simply for a hunting implement,
should not be more than six or seven inches in the blade,
which should be straight, as that length is handier for
skinning, cooking, &c. ; but if it is meant to be used as
a weapon, it should be fully twice as long,-and reasonably
heavy. IVhen bear-hunting, I used to carry, in my belt,
a knife of this latter kind, fifteen inches in the blade;
and in one of my pockets, or somewhere handy, a com-
mon wooden—handled butcher’s knife, in aleather sheath.

Should the hunter be on the frontier, or likely to come
into collision with the aborigines of the country, a brace
of good heavy revolvers, with extra cylinders, will be
found the thing needed, which, ready loaded, can replace
the discharged ones in a moment. I prefer Colt’s to any
other, because I am accustomed to them. Doubtless,
there are other makers quite as good; I only speak of
the bridge that carried me over.

In concluding my remarks upon the best gun and rifle
for foreign wild sports, I think a few words upon the
dogs a hunter would find most useful, would be of service.
The emigrant to a warm climate, such as Port Natal,
Texas, or South America, will find shortucoated dogs best
suited to the climate; they suffer less from heat and
from fleas than long-haired dogs, such as setters or N ew-
foundlands. For the pursuit of small game, I found
pointers the most useful dogs, and these I taught to re-

286 turn TEXAN RANGER.

trieve; and as the streams and, lakes or ponds were
always warm, they took the water willingly. In all hot
countries dogs are much teased by insects; and the bites
of these, together with the ceaseless scratchings they
cause, render their skin irritable and induce mange,
which can only be prevented by constant attention.
Every fortnight, at least, and often three times a,
month, I either rubbed my dogs myself, or superintended
the operation, using a mixture of two parts of hog’s lard,
one of sulphur, and one of tar,—not merely smeared on,
but well rubbed in, from the point of the nose to the
tip of the tail. This preparation kept off the ver-
min, and even the small portion which they sometimes
licked off, did them no injury, but the contrary, as it
cooled them by acting as a gentle aperient. In hunting
the larger animals, too fierce a dog generally gets killed ;
and in a bear or panther chase, a bull-dog, which closed
with his game, would be “rubbed out” so quickly and
teetotally that he would never know what had become of
himself, and for this reason a cross-bred dog, of a plucky
but active, as well as a cautious breed, is the best. The
best pack of bear-hounds I ever hunted with, belonged
to a man named Barrow, who lived on the Trinity River,
where the bears “were as plenty as blackberries, and a
little plentifuller.” These dogs were a cross between the
mastiif and the greyhound. They were quite fierce
enough to jump in and pinch a bear, and active enough.
to spring away again, before the angry cufibe could
injure them; and it was very rare that any of them
came to grief, as they early learnt that “discretion was

REQUISITE HUNTING wnnrons. 2-87

the better part of valour.” This pack had only one fault:
they had not quite enough nose, and it would have been
better if they had had a little touch of the fox-hound in
their composition; but Barrow, on this account, always
had one or two old hands in the pack, to pick out the
trail if they came to a check.

The emigrant must, however, be guided by the climate
to which he goes, and by the game he intends to pursue ;
but, in breaking his dogs to his purpose, it will be as
well to remember, that more have been mined by the.
whip than have ever been made by it ; for the dispositions
of dogs vary as much as do men’s. Some are timid, and
must be encouraged; some are headstrong, and must be
restrained either by love or fear. But the best way to
have a good dog is to make a companion of him, have
him about with you as much as possible; talk to him
constantly, and in a short time he will understand almost
everything you wish him to do ; he will distinguish
readily your tone of encouragement and that of reproof.
I firmly believe some of my dogs, which were my com-
panions and friends in the wilderness, which followed me
all day long and slept on my blankets at night, would
have understood a sermon, if I had preached one to
them an hour long.

 

288

CHAPTER XXIII.
THE WILD TURKEY.

I THINK I have said enough about dogs and guns, so I
will now tell you of the wildest and best game-bird, as he is
to be found in the American woods. I shall quote a
description of the manner in which a wild turkey is
called up, as it is described by a friend of mine, Major
Thorpe, of Louisiana. I take his account the more
readily, as he has so happily and truly given it _; and were
I to give my own experience, although it might be pre-
cisely the same, it would not be so well told :—

IVild turkeys are well worth the trouble of pursuit,
the hens often weighing fifteen pounds; whilst the
“gobblers ” very frequently turn the scale at t\venty-=
four, twenty-eight, and sometimes thirty pounds.

It is a very singular thing—and well deserves the at-
tention of the naturalists, who state that our domestic
turkeys (the turkeys we all see hanging up in our
poulterers’ shops about Christmas, and those we see
around farm-houses in the country) are all descended
from the wild turkey of America—that domestication
should have such an effect upon the young as to clothe
them with down, and make them obedient to the cluck ol
the mother hen—when, as I know well, the young of the
wild bird are covered with quite a dill'erent coating,
more like hair than is the covering of our young tame
turkeys.

'rHE WILD TURKEY: 2-85)

The young of the wild bird lead their mother, and she
has to follow them wheresoever they please, for several
days after they are hatched; and it is some little time
before they are obedient to her Cluck, whilst the tame
turkey’s chicks answer to her call, as quickly as do the
young of the domestic fowl.

There is, however, a beautiful provision of nature in
the alarm call of all the feathered tribe ; the youngest
fledgling understands it, though it has not broken the
shell half an hour ; but, at the warning Cluck, all cower
down, and make themselves as scarce as policemen when
a row is afoot. 4

There is not a greater difference between the wild ass
described by Job, and the inoke in a cadger’s cart, than
there is between the beautiful turkey, in its native wilds,
and its degenerate descendant of the poultry-yard.

Once, the wild turkey was found scattered over the
United States, now it is only common on the frontiers
and in the more recently settled states of the south. In
Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi there are vast cane-
brakes, which, for many years, will afford a safe retreat
to the wild turkey from his human enemies, though
these same fastnesses harbour his greatest foe, the wild
cat. ,
In its habits, the turkey is not migratory; and in those
parts where it is never seen, it may be presumed to be ex-
tinct. Possessed of the keenest eye—~an eye that never
deceives it—as well as the wildest caution, the turkey
is the shiest and most difficult of all game to kill; and

it is only by the hunter’s intimate knowledge of its
19

290 THE TEXAN RANGER.

habits, as well as making use of the most subtle strata»
gems, that he can hope for success in its pursuit. The
most common woodland sounds often put the turkey to
flight, even when no danger is near, as well as when the
patient hunter has very nearly succeeded in coaxing the
bird within shooting range. The falling of a dead twig,
the jump of the squirrel from one branch to another, is
sufficient to put this suspicious bird to full speed ; it
never pauses, never wonders, never thinks, but runs from
imaginary danger, as quickly as from real.

The rabbit, the hare, the deer, in fact almost all other
game, pause for a moment to scent the air, or to make
certain that their eyes are not deceiving them; but with
the turkeythis is not so; and often a morning’s work of the
turkey-hunter is lost when it is almost within his grasp,
by the fall of a large acorn, the cracking of a dried
twig, or even the rustling of a leaf. Wild as the bird
naturally is, it becomes inconceivably more so when it is
much hunted.

“ 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
1Music’s,—my old deer-dog,—and his track was as plain
to me, as the trail of a dog hauled through a dusty road.

“ I hunted the gobbler always in the same ‘ range‘
and about the same ‘ scratchings ; ’ and he got so a1
last, that when I ‘ called ’ he would run from me,
taking the opposite direction to my own foot-tracks.

THE WILD TURKEY. 291

“ 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, 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 way.”

There are a great variety of methods of hunting the
Wild turkey.

When half or three-quarters grown, they can be easi
whistled up; when fully grown, the task of calling them
up is much more difficult, as they are dreadfully sus-
picious ; but where they are scarce, and constantly hunted,
the very highest powers of the hunter are called into
play. Where turkeys are plentiful, the hunters use
dogs, trained to run and “tree” them; which having
done, they sit under the tree upon which the turkey is
perched, keeping up an incessant barking, which, whilst it
distracts the attention of the bird, leads up the back-
woodsman to the spot for a shot.-

In the spring of the year, when the turkeys are
amorously inclined, the turkey-hunter starts early in
the morning, armed with his rifle and “ caller,”——a bone
taken from the wing of a turkey,——With which he imitates
the Cluck of the hen, and with this he lures up both
“ gobbler ” and hens. But this kind of hunting requires
a great amount of patience and skill, and there are very
few out of the hundreds who do kill these birds, who can

 

292 THE TEXAN RANGERS

rank as masters of theart; they call too much, or fai
to imitate the hens’ call. at the most critical moment
and so lose their labour and their game. For the truth
ful description of turkey-calling in the following quo
tation, I, an old turkey-hunter, can vouch; and there
was scarcely a spring went by, when I lived in Texas
that I did not call up and slay more than fifty 01
“ gobblers.”

“ The turkey-hunter, armed with his ‘ call,’ starts int
the forest; he hears upon his shoulder the trusty gur
He is either informed of the presence of turkeys, ani
has a particular place or bird in View, or he makes hi
way cautiously along the banks of some running stream
His progress is slow and silent ; it may be that he unex
pectedly hears a noise, sounding like distant thunder ; h
then knows that he is in close proximity to the game
and that he has disturbed it to flight. When such i
the case, his work is comparatively done.”

We will, for illustration, select a more difficult hunt.

The day wears towards noon, the patient hunter ha
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 i
heard, as if a pebble dropped into the bosom of a littl
lake.

It may be that woodpecker, which, desisting from it
labours, has opened its bill to yawn; or, perchance
yonder little bird, so industriously scratching among th‘
dead leaves of that young holly. Again, precisely th¢
same sound is heard. Yonder, high in the heavens, is a

Irma WILD TURKEY. 293
solitary hawk, winging its way over the forest ; 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, but 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 be-
fore him, from among which protrudes the muzzle of
his deadly weapon.

Thus prepared, he takes his “ ca ,” and gives one
solitary “ clack ”—so exquisitely, that it chimes in with
the running brook and the rustling leaf.

It may be that half a mile 01f, if the place be favour-
able for conveying sound, a “ gobbler ” is feeding;
and that prompted by his nature, as he 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 feelings
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 delicate, game-
looking head, fully 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 bright
plumage grows dim, and, with a low clack, he resumes
his search for food.

The treasures of the American forest are before him ;
the choice peccan-nut is neglected for that immense
“grubworm” that rolls down the decayed stump—too
large to crawl. N ow that grasshopper is nabbed.

2944 THE TEXAN RANGER.

Presently a hill of ants presents itself, and the bird
leans over it, and, with wondering curiosity, peers down
the tiny hole of its entrance, out of which are issuing
the industrious insects.

Again that elude 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.

N 0 sound is heard but the falling acorn—and it dis-
tinctly echoes as it rattles from branch to branch, and
dashes off to the ground.

The bird is uneasy; he peeks pettishly, smoothes 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, settles down
finally into a brown study, and evidently commences
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 satisfied that
no turkey-hunter uttered the sounds that reached his
ear, for they were too few and far between. And then
there rises up in his mind some disconsolate mistress,
and he gallantly flies down from his low perch, gives
his body a swaggering motion, and utters a distinct
and prolonged Cluck—significant both of surprise and
joy.

N ext moment, the dead twigs close by crack beneath
a heavy tread, and he starts off under the impression that
he is caught,

 

but the meanderings of some ruminating

THE WILD TURKEY. 295

cow inform him of his mistake. Composing himself, he
listens—ten minutes ago he challenged, and only now
a low Cluck in the distance reaches his ear.

But 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 himself makes; he
presumes everything is suspicious and dangerous, and his
experience has heightened the instinct.

Twice, when young, was he coaxed within gun-shot,
but got clear off by some fault of the percussion caps;
after that he was fooled by an idle school-boy, 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, byheedlessly
wandering with his thoughtless play-fellows.

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 hunteis are
tooting away, but never so wisely as to deceive him
twice. They all reveal themselves by overstepping the

296 TIE TEXAN RANGER.

modesty of Nature, and woo him too mac]; ,- his loves are
far more coy, far less intrusive.

Poor bird! he does not know that R
his snare for him; and is even then so sure of his victim,
as to be revolving in his mind, whether his goodly car-
case should be a present to a newly married friend, or be
served up in savoury fumes from his own bachelor, but

 

is spreading

hospitable board.

The last clzocio heard by the gobbler fairly roused him,
and he presses forward. At one time he runs with
speed, then stops as if not quite satisfied; something
turns him back; still he lingers only for a moment in
his course, until, coming to a running stream, where he
Will have to fly, the exertion seems too mucli for him.

Stately parading in the full sunshine, he walks along
the margin of the clear water, admiring his fine person
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.

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 peeks at it, without catching it ; something annoys
him.

As the slipper of Cinderella to the imagination of the
young prince, or the glimpses of a waving iiinglet or jewel-
led hand to the glowing passions of a young heart, so is
the remembrance of that sound, which now full two hours

THE WILD TURKEY. 297

since was first heard by our hero, and in that long time
has been but twice repeated; he speculates that in the
shady woods that surround him there must wander a.
mate; solitary she plucks her food, and calls for me—
the monster man, impatient of his prey, doles not out his
music so softly and 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 scarcely
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
much—one, which 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 still is slow.

The clue]: again greets his car; there was a slight
quaver attached to it this time, like the forming of a
second note. He is nearing the object of pursuit, and,
with an energetic “ call,” he rushes forward; his long neck

298 THE TEXAN RANGER.

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 open space 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 fowling-
piece, and its muzzle is protruding towards the open
ground. Behind 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.

The turkey, still in his exposed situation, gobbles. On
the instant, the hunter raises his “call ” to his lips, and

' gives a prolonged clue/c, 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 plumage
of his breast unfolds itself, his neck curves. Drawing 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, and the gorgeously-coloured head
becomes beautifully relieved in its centre.

THE WILD TURKEY. 299

On he comes with a hitching gait, glowing in the sun-
shine with purple and gold.

The siren clack is twice repeated. He contracts his
form to the smallest dimensions? Upward rises the
head to the highest point. He stands upon his very toes,
and looks suspiciously around. Fifty yards of distance
protect him from the bolt of death—he even condescends
to pick about.

What a trial for the expectant hunter! How vividly
does he recollect that one breath too much has, ere now,
spoiled a morning’s work!

The minutes wear on, and the bird again becomes the
caller. He gobbles, opens his form, and, when fully
bloomed out, the enchanting Cluck greets his ear. On,
on he comes, like the gay horse towards the inspiring
music of the drum, or like a bark beating against the
_ wind, gallantly but slowly.

The dark cold barrel of the gun is not more silent than
is the hunter now: the game is playing just outside
the very edge of its deadly reach. The least mistake, 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 everything, that you hear
his wings distinctly as they brush the ground ; while the
sun plays in conflicting rays and coloured lights, about
his gaudily bronzed plumage.

300 THE TEXAN RANGER.

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 it passes in'waving lines before you, so rudely
wakened was it from sleep.

But our rare and beautiful bird—our gallant and noble
bird—our cunning and game bird—where is he ?

The glittering plummage—the gay step—the bright
eye—all—all are gone. \Vithout a movement of the

muscles, our valorous lover has fallen lifeless to the
earth!

 

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE MUSTANG, 0R WILD HORSE.

DESCENDED from Arab parents, the mustang, or wild
horse shows all the blood and breeding for which the
Arabian horses are famous. The Moors, who brought
their horses from Barbary when they occupied part of
Spain, little thought that afterwards the descendants of
their “wind devourers” would stock the New \Vorld
with horses; for, previous to the arrival of Cortez and
his companions in arms, no horse existed on the whole
of the American continent. N 0w, from the fiftieth
degree of north latitude to the fortieth degree of south,
the great plains are dotted with their herds.

Active, hardy, and beautifully formed little horses they
are too, and, when captured young, they become wonder-

THE MUSTANG, on WILD HORSE. 301

fully docile. It is strange, too, how soon they become
accustomed to the discharge of guns or pistols from their
backs, and I have often had horses which, from the first,
have stood fire, perfectly unconcerned. The Arab pro-
verb that “the nearer the sun, the nobler the steed,”
has proved true in Texas, Mexico, and California; for
more beautiful or more enduring horses can be found
nowhere. Easily fed, the prairie grass being as good
food as he cares for, the mustang can be ridden con-
tinuously for months, as has been proved in the long
overland expeditions from Texas to California; and in
prairie warfare, in pursuit as in retreat, he has a won-
derful turn of speed, and can keep it for hours.

The “ cut off” foals make the best “hunting” horses;
for, being raised by hand, they become as gentle, obedient,
and affectionate as dogs, and will follow their masters, or
come to a call or whistle when wanted, as quickly as a
spaniel. This is of great advantage to the prairie hunter,
as all ride, and nobody walks the prairies 5 and when the
deer-hunter discovers a deer, or herd of deer, he quietly
dismounts, leaving his horse to graze whilst he crawls or
creeps through the grass to get his shot. \Vhen he
has succeeded, he either calls up his horse, or else returns
to find him quietly waiting for his master not ten paces
from where he was left. A horse that I hunted steadily
upon for seven years, and that I have left thousands of
times unfastened in any way, both on the prairie and in
the forest, never once served me any trick, or attempted
to avoid my catching him.

I have mentioned a “ out off ” foal, and this means a

302 THE TEXAN’ RANGER.

foal that has been cut 017‘ from its mother by the horse—
hunter riding between them, the frightened mare cling-
ing to the herd, whilst the rider gradually bears away
from the ruck, until a swell of the prairie conceals them,
when he can pull up: the foal will follow the hunter’s
horse home without the slightest trouble. Fed upon
“ mush ” and milk, and in time Indian corn and pumpkin,
the young mustang is brought up as kindly, and is made
as much of as the Arabian foal in the Sheik’s tent, on the
sands of “ Araby the blest.” I once made one of a party
to cut qfi’ some foals from the mares. A “ cattle-raiser,”
who lived on Dickenson’s Bayou, near the Gulf of Mexico,
invited me to assist in one of these gallops.
On the morning appointed, nine of us met at Mr.
Cook’s rancho, most of us having ridden there over night,
so as to have our horses fresh for the work before them.
After a regular southern breakfast of fruits and venison,
“ dabber ” (milk which has become, through the heat of
the climate, of the consistency of blanc-mange) and
~ honey, capital coffee, 850., the whole followed by a nip of

old Bourbon whisky, in case Q)" snake bites—at least that
i was the reason advanced, though we were in about as
much danger of being crushed by an elephant as bitten by
a snake—we mounted our horses at about nine o’clock,
and rode out into the prairie. The coast prairie is flat
as a billiard table, seemingly, and the horizon appears to
be about ten miles distant ; though, flat as it seems,
there are imperceptible swells in it, that serve to hide
herds of wild animals in their “dips,” so that we had
not ridden more than four or five miles before we dis-

THE MUSTANG, on WILD HORSE. 303

covered the caballada of mustangs of which we were in
search. As soon as we sighted them, we halted to con-
sult as to our advance, for the horse in a Wild state has
a keen sense of smell, and we had to Consider how best
to approach them without being winded.

On our right, but about twenty miles distant, was the
Gulf of Mexico, from which a moderate south-east breeze
was blowing; to our “right front” was the caballada, so
that it became necessary for us to turn up for amile or so
to the north-west, when we might try to get upon good
terms with them, without the possibility of their scenting
us. Arrived at the proper place, we all dismounted,
and screwing ourselves behind the shoulders of our
horses, we endeavoured to give ourselves the appearance
of a small “ manada” (bunch of horses, as “caballada ”
means a large drove) advancing upon the prairie slowly
feeding. It was slow work to push our way through the
rough wiry grass, and yet keep in the stooping positions
we had taken to prevent the wild herd discovering us;
but we gradually, if slowly, worked our way for about a
mile and a-half, till we got within a proper distance for
a rush ; and, at a given word, springing into our saddles, ‘
we were well up with the caballada before they knew ‘
what was the matter. As we galloped along, pell-mell,
we each had some diificulty in riding out the fillies and
colts ; for however easy it may be for a single horseman
to cut off an outside colt, it is altogether a different
thing for several men at the same time to cut out several
foals, as you cannot, do what you will, avoid getting into
one another’s way. By degrees, however, first one and

304; THE WEEK RANGER.

then the other gradually got his quarry where he wanted
it ;- and as they severally fell out, it made it easier for
the others to fall out too. From the first I had selected
a beautiful little iron grey which stuck close to its
mother, an old white mare, and as the mare clung to
the very thickest of the herd, I had all “my work cut
out” to get between her and her foal. After about
three miles had been covered, and when some of my
companions had succeeded in getting clear of the ruck,
I managed to press the old mare by degrees to the outer
edge of the caballada, and then watching my opportunity
when the young one got upon the outer side of the mare,
I put on a spurt and ran between them, and then hear-
ing hard off from the rest, got the little iron grey all to
myself. Then pulling up gradually, the colt stopped by
the side of my horse as contentedly as though it had
been its mother. Gradually we all got together again,
and found that each man had got either a colt or a
filly.

About a year afterwards I was obliged to leave the
coast country, for the interior, whenI was compelled to
part with the first wild horse I had then ever captured,
and sod it to a German at Galveston. ’I‘he Texans and
Mexicans, whenever they want a fresh steed, and do not
care to part with their dollars, mount their horses, and,
taking their lassoes, they ride to the prairie, and find-
ing a herd of wild horses they manoeuvre to get as near
as they can to them; then selecting their victim, they
make a dash at it, and rarely fail to rope it.

“ Breaking” it, when caught, is a very short operation.

THE MUSTANG, on WILD HORSE. 305

The horse is roped, thrown down, and very nearly choked
with the lasso, and whilst in this state it has a “ bowstall ”
put upon its head, in lieu of a bridle. This simple but
powerful instrument is made in half a minute. A turn
is taken :round the horse’s head (between the eyes and
the nostrils), which is knotted; one end of the rope, or
“ cabrestro,” is passed over the horse’s head behind his
ears, and this, when fastened to the loop round his head,
forms a head-stall similar to one of our halters. As
soon as all this is made secure, a second loop is made
around the chin and close to the nostrils, and from this
the reins lead, through a kind of hangman’s knot, so that-
when the reins are pulled the loop contracts, and closes
the nose and mouth, and unless the horse stops, or-
throws his head up, he becomes almost strangled, and
is compelled to obey. The spurs used to compel obedi-—
ence are very large, and sometimes weigh very heavy;
the rowels are often as large in circumference as five-
shilling pieces, generally divided into five blunt prongs
shaped like a star; and though they are nearly always
blunt, yet they bruise a horse and hurt him excessively,
though they rarely puncture the skin. The Spanish or
Mexican saddle, as it is called indifferently, is next firmly
secured upon the horse; and the saddle itself, with its
high “horn ” and high cantle, does not weigh a trifle, to
saynothing about the weight of the huge wooden stirrups ;
besides thick stirrup leathers and toe leathers, three inches
broad, made of sole leather. Sweat leathers, too, add to the
weight, and very often a saddle “fully rigged,” will weigh
20

306 ‘ THE TEXAN RANGER”.

14 or 16 pounds. Some of the Mexican dons’ saddles,
heavily mounted with silver, often weigh twice as much ;
but these are more for display than real work, and then
the sun-dried, withered dons themselves don’t weigh
much, so that really their horses are not over-weighted.

The Mexican saddle, although it would not do for
English cross-country work, is well adapted for the
country and the work it is used for; as, seated deeply
between its high horn (pommcl) and equally high cantlc,
the cabalicro can scarcely be displaced by the most vio-
lent plungings of his horse : he might as well try to cast
his skin, as his rider. In an hour the wild horse,
thoroughly subdued, is converted into a tame one, or,
as the Texans term them, “a gentled horse.” Very
often the Mexicans build a pen with long extended
wings, and then a score or two “greasens” will unite
together, and after a good deal of galloping and swearing,
they manage to. pen a whole herd. The best they will
keep; but the old mares and stallions they will turn
loose again, after shaving off their mane and tail hair,
which they convert into bridle-reins, girths, hairnropes,
&c. The mane hair, being softer, is always reserved to
make girths of, as it is not so liable to chafe a horse’s
belly, as the coarser tail hair. Shall I ever again ride a.
wild horse, and stretch at full gallop across those glorious
prairies ?

Sometimes, when I find myself in London, I have to
pinch myself to be assured that it is not a horrible dream

I am having; and at last I become satisfied, to my confu-

A WILD BULL HUNT. 307

sion, that I am really surrounded by Bobbies, game laws,
and taxes of all kinds; and, lastly, have to pay abutcher
for my meat, instead of being able to kill it at no expense,
Whenever I want any.

 

CHAPTER XXV.
A WILD BULL HUNT.

FORMERLY the vast flower-carpeted prairies of Texas
were roamed over only by the native wild cattle—the
bison, or, as it is more generally called, the buffalo.

N ow, however, the settlers on the coast have herds of
domestic cattle, descendants of imported European
breeds. Some of the stock raisers count their herds by
thousands, and a few by tens of thousands—more than
one owning as many as twenty-five thousand.

As may be supposed, many of these animals wander
at will—being only herded for the purpose of marking
and branding the calves twice a year. Numbers are
often driven, by the cold “northers” which occasion-
ally occur through the winter, into the forests that border
the prairies,~—where they remain, and join other cattle
which are either,“ strays ” themselves, or the descendants
of “ strays.” These are as wild as any other game in the
forest, and are as much the property of the hunter who
can kill them, as the deer are. In my wanderings, as a
hunter for many years in Texas, I have killed some
hundreds of these wild bulls and cows.

308 THE TEXAN RANGER,

Like all other North American wild beasts (except
the grizzly bear), they, as a rule, fly from man; and only
when wounded, do they show any fight: then, however,
they turn upon the hunter, and do their best to kill him.
It is no child’s play, therefore, to find oneself, with an
empty gun, in presence of a wounded wild bull, but
this has been my lot fully a dozen times.

Sometimes the wild-cattle hunter is accompanied by
dogs which have been trained to this kind of chase ; but
more frequently he goes alone, and, rifle in hand, and a
trusty hunting—knife in his belt, he stalks,——or as it is
there callec , “ still—hunts,”—his mighty game. Go how he
will, he must go at daybreak, as then he will find his
quarry upon the edge of the prairie, or in the more open
parts of the forest. Later, and the game will have buried
itself miles away in the most secluded and tangled
jungle it can find, there to shelter itself not only from
its enemies, but from the great heat of the sun; and it
will be late in the evening before the herd ventures out
to feed ; but as night closes in, it gradually approaches
the open prairie.

Bright moon-light nights often prove fatal to some of
the herd, for then they venture to go further into the
prairie. This circumstance being well known to the
settlers (most of whom are skilled in throwing the lasso),
they, being mounted, lie in wait till the cattle get a
sufficient distance upon the prairie. Then they charge
them, and almost every man secures a victim, before
the frightened herd can regain the forest.

N ow and then, though very rarely, “a bunch of

A WILD BULL HUNT. 309

cattle” will be found in some “motte,” or “island of
timber,” at a mile or two’s distance from the main forest I
and then, as they fly across the open space, they afford
almost as much sport as does “ a run” at buffalo.

The sun had not risen, when one morning I mounted
my horse to go in search of wild cattle, a herd of which
I knew frequented a little prairie glade in the forest,
about four miles from where I lived. I had. intended
to arrive there before daybreak, which in the far south
comes with a suddenness unknown to more northern
countries; but, from having been much fatigued the
day before, I had overslept myself. The negro groom,
whose duty it was to bring my horse and call me, had
also, I suppose, slept a little later; so that, before I
had gone half the distance to the glade, the great tropi-
cal sun had lighted up the forest aisles, tinting the dew-
drops as they hung upon the twigs, and making them
glitter like diamonds.

I hurried on through the forest as fast as I could. My
progress was now much more rapid, as I could easily see
my way,——before, I had almost to feel it. As I eX-
pected, the herd had left the glade before I reached
it; though that they had been there, and that very
lately, their strong bovine scent and fresh “sign” at-
tested.

Dismounting, and fastening my horse to a strong
branch, I followed on foot upon their tracks. Every
now and then a low bellow came down the wind to me,
as a cow called up her loitering calf, and I pushed on at
a run, to overtake them.

3‘10 THE TEXAN RANGER

I had traversed at least two miles, before I got a
glimpse of the two or three old bulls which brought up
the rear,—-but I did not want bull-beef. I had, therefore,
to use the greatest caution, so as to get upon the outside
of the herd, where I could select a good fat cow, and

. yet not be discovered bythe old bulls inthe rear, at least

till I had got my shot.

Heeding carefully the direction of the wind, I made a
detour- as fast as I could run, for the Lwild cattle were
making towards a dense cane-brake at no great distance,
—-and once concealed there, I knew that my chance of
meat for that day was but slight.

I soon gained the position I wished, and closing in,
I picked out a fat three or four-year-old cow, and shot
her down ; then, sheltered behind alarge tree, I reloaded
as fast as I could, in the hope of getting a shot at one
of the rear-guard, or some straggler. I

The bushes were crushed down, and the stout saplings
bent by the fierce rush of the terrified herd, as, helter
skelter, they galloped by, whilst I forced down my rifle
bullet. ;-By the time I had capped my weapon, the whole
herd had passed save one old red bull, which had not yet
got quite opposite to me.

I strained my ears to catch any sounds of rending
bushes or crackling sticks behind this old fellow, but
failed to detect any; and so, when he came fairly broad-
side to me, I aimed at his shoulder high up, and pulled
the trigger, hoping to break the top of the blade-bones,
which would have brought him down in his track. The
ball, though fairly planted, must have glanced, for the

A WILD BULL HUNT. ' 311

bones were not broken; and after a heavy stumble, which
brought the bull almost to his nose, he recovered himself,
and stopping, glared round to charge his enemy.

Keeping well under the cover of the friendly tree-
trunk, I reloaded as quickly as I could, taking care'to
make as little noise as possible; for I had no wish to
bring him down upon me when I had a useless weapon
in my hand.

After looking savagely around without discovering his
assailant, he started after the herd, and as he turned
nearly broadside to me, I again sighted quickly, and
fired. I afterwards found that this bullet had entered
far behind the shoulder, and had ranged forward,~—-—a shot
which might have proved fatal in an hour or two, as it
had traversed the lungs, but which for the time only
made him more savage, and he turned deliberately to
hunt me out.

The woods here were very open, compared with most
of the forest, and the tree behind which I had been con-
cealed was much too large to climb, as its circum-
ference was too great for me to get any grasp with my
arms. Covering myself with the huge trunk, which I
kept carefully between myself and the wounded wild
bull, I reloaded my rifle, whilst retreating towards some
slighter trees, one of which I hoped to be able to climb
in case of necessity.

Had I been mounted, I should have asked no better fun
that to fight the wild bull from my saddle ; on foot, the
affair was not quite so safe.

In those days, when this adventure occurred, it was no

3:12 Tnn TEXAN RANGER.

easy task to load a backwoods hunting rifle in a hurry ;
for the ball, with its patch, required some strength, and
Often needed even a-small mallet to start it fairly into
the muzzle of the barrel, and could not be dropped down
so easily as the expanding bullets of the present day. It
was withsome uneasiness, then, that I found myself dis-
covered, when about half-way between the tree I had left
and those I was trying to reach, with my gun unloaded,
the bullet still being just inside the muzzle.

I might perhaps gain the trees, by dropping my gun
before the bull could catch me ; but I knew I should have
no time to climb one, for the wounded beast would nail
me to the tree with his horns; still I might dodge him
round them, so dropping my gun, I took to my heels like
a race-horse.

I was only just in time. As I swung myself round a
tree the bull passed nie—almost brushed me—with the
rush of a steam-engine, his charge carrying him thirty
paces beyond, ere he could pull up.

“Try that again,” I muttered, as I drew along breath,
—-and my stout hunting-knife too. The bull seemed willing
to take me at my word ; for, tossing his head savagely, and
throwing the blood-stained froth from his mouth, he
lowered his head and charged me. Holding my broad
sombrero in my left hand and my long hunting—knife in
the other, I stood out about three steps from the tree,
and awaited his attack. I had not many seconds to
wait. Just as his hot breath was in my face, and his red
eyes—flaming with rage—were close at me, I jumped
aside, and dashing my broad-brimmed hat in his face, I

HOW THE HOOSIER ENJOYED HIS FIRST OYSTER. 313

lunged full at his ribs, behind the shoulder, with the
knife. The blow struck fair and true, luckily missing
any bone, and the sharp long blade found his heart; then
as he rolled headlong forward, I recovered my faithful
weapon.

So the wild bull died ; and I, after picking up my gun
and finishing the operation of loading it, sought first my
horse, and then the house, from which a waggon and a
couple of negroes were soon despatched, to bring in the
wild cow, and the hide of the Old patriarch of the herd.

The incident was a too common and every-day affair
then, for me to think anything about it; but now, as I
look back at the life I passed in those green old woods,
I have thought that those who have never had the Oppor-
tunity to roam them, might like to know how often a
hunter has to depend upon a keen eye, a quick foot, and
a strong hand.

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
HOW THE HOOSIER ENJOYED HIS rmsr OYSTER.

ALMOST all the States have had nicknames given to
their inhabitants. Thus, the people of Vermont are
called the “green mountain boys g” those of Ohio “ buck-
eyes ,” whilst the Indianians are named “ hoosiers.”

One of these latter, strolling down New Orleans, who

3144 THE TEXAN RANGER.

had “ never paid his first visit before,” was probably as
fair a specimen of the rough, unadulterated backwoods-
man, as could be easily “ scared up.”

Dressed in a suit of homespun, tall, gaunt, ungainly, he
stalked along, looking, every inch, one of the “ sovereign
people ;” and though inwardly wondering at the wealth
of goods displayed in the stores, “curious notions,” as
he mentally considered them, yet, outwardly he ap-
peared to notice them as impassively as an Indian war-
rior.

At last he made a full stop, and looked up at a sign
which projected from a shanty at the corner of one of
the wharves, on which was inscribed, “ Oysters fixed at
a minute’s notice.” Now he had often heard his
travelled friends laud these edibles, and speak of the
grand “feeds” they had enjoyed; but, being an inland
man, and living hundreds of miles from the sea, he had
never had an opportunity of testing their merits.

Entering the shanty, he hailed the dispenser of the
bivalves with, “look a hyar hoss, what do you charge for
the cusses ?”

“A quarter of a dollar a dozen, sir, step in. Have
’em in a minute. On the shell, sn ‘5’ ”

The hoosier nodded, and the proprietor disappeared,
whilst the only other occupant looked stealthily at the
new comer, over the edge of the “ Tri-weekly Picayune ”
neWSpaper. It did not take this gentleman long to mea-
sure the hoosier, and an amused grin flitted across his
features; and any one, accustomed to American practical
jokes, might have bet his “bottom dollar,” that there

HOW THE HOOSIEB ENJOYED ms FIRST OYSTER. 315

would be some fun on hand in a “quarter less than no
time.”

The oysters were duly placed before the backwoods-
man, who looked at them, as they rested on their half
shells, with about the same puzzled uncertainty, as did
the man who won an elephant in a lottery, At last,
screwing up his courage, he took up one on his fork, and
shutting his eyes, swallowed it, then looked furtively
around.

“Excuse me, sir,” said the other man, rising and step-
ping across to him, “ did you kill it ? ”

“Kill it,” repeated the frightened hoosier, who saw
by the other’s countenance that he must have made some
fearful mistake. “ I took it just as he gin it me.”

“Then you’re a gone ’coon, that’s all, salt won’t save
you; it’s all up with you. Where do your friends live,
that they can be written to.”

“Du tel ,” cried the terrified fellow, “ what’ll it
do ? ”

“Do! why the darned critter ’ll eat right through
your innards in no time. Here, take a pull at this—a
good hearty one, mind: it ain’t of no use taking a leetle;
so open your shoulders—it may kill it! ”

Saying which, he handed to the hoosier the “ pepper-
vinegar ” (a bottle half-filled with capsicums and filled
up with vinegar), hot and fiery enough to take the scales
off the inside of a steam-engine boiler.

“ How do you feel now ? ” asked the amiable joker,
when the poor hoosier had, after twenty minutes’ agony,
a little recovered from the suffocating effects of his fiery

316 ’. THE TEXAN RANGER.

dose, Whilst his eyes still continued to stream with tears,
andhis mouth felt like a furnace “hetted seven times
hotter than it could be het.” “Has it killed it, do you
think ?”

“Oh, lordy? oh, goodness! oh, lordy! Stranger, you
ain’t got no idee how it squirmed and scriggled. Ef I
live to be a thousand years old, I’ll never touch one of
them dod rotted skunks agin. You seem to understand
’em, you may hev the balance ; narey another does this
child ever touch—sartain.”

“Ah! ” said the delighted wag, “they are curious
critters ; but they’re Wholesome, and rare nourishing
food, too, when you know how to use ’em properly. See
here, now, I’ll just drop some of this pepper sarse on ’em,
and here they go like ‘ greased lightning.’ ”

And so they did go—much to the countryman’s
astonishment, and to the very disinterested sharper’s
delight.

317 ‘

CONCLUSION.

WHEN I commenced these Sketches for the periodical in
which they appeared, the civil war was still raging in
America; and I thought a description of the gallant few,
who were contending against the overwhelming numbers
of the North; of their sports; the country where they
lived, and its productions, might prove interesting to
those who had not had an opportunity of seeing the
Southern States themselves ; and now, as the war has
terminated so disastrously to the South, the old life on
the plantations will never be seen again, as I knew it.

lVith the conSequent changes, has come the destruction
of the plantations, and thereby the ruin of the planters.
The future traveller may look in vain for those vast fields
of snowy cotton, where, often a thousand acres or more
in one field, seemed suddenly, and in some miraculous
manner, and with the sunniest sky overhead, to have been
buried beneath a fall of snow.

If so,the immense sugar-houses will soon fall into decay;
and the fields around them, once hidden With the waving
dark green leaves of the sugar-canes, will be covered
with weedsand brambles and the natural growth of the
forest, which will resume its place when neglected by
man.

318 THE TEXAN RANGER.

‘My descriptions of the- wild sports are derived from a
long hunting experience in Texas, where, from a hum-
ming-bird to a wild turkey, or a mouse to a wild bull, I
believe I have shot or caught specimens of all that ran,
flew, swam, or crawled.

In one or two cases, I have used another Sportsman’s
descriptions, where I considered them to be more fresh
and graphic than anything of my owncould possibly hope
to be.

Travellers’ stories, generally, are tolerably seasoned
with the marvellous; their escapes from imminent death
by their own courage and presence of mind, or some
lucky accident, are familiar to us all ; but, to tell the truth,
I always fancy they occur less often than we are told
they do. A. well-armed man, or even a well-mounted one,
and in Texas the two are almost always combined,—
is rarely in much danger. Human mind, skill, and inven-
tion, nine hundred and ninety nine times out of a
thousand, prove superior to brute force and courage.

 

In hunting the larger animals, there is, doubtless, oc-
casionally some little danger, but not more than enough
to give a spice to the hunter’s sport, which makes it the
more pleasurable.

In these Sketches, an effort has been made to give my
readers some idea of the scenery of the far South—west—
an idea of the country, its surface and its vegetation.

It is hopeless to try and convey an idea of the un-
bounded prairies,—these must be seen to be understood,
as must its evergreen forests and continuous rivers.

Pilgrims from the Old World behold them at first

CONCLUSION. 319

with wonder and awe. In the vast solitudes of the in-
terior, game of most kinds abound, and in their pursuit
are drawn the American backwoodsmen; characters not
easily to be found anywhere else in the world, and whose
daily lives and conversation are as singular, and Wildly
natural, as are the mighty developments of nature which
surround them.

I hope shortly to give some more consecutive papers
upon the “ Wild Life ” led on those primaeval and ever-
green forests and prairies.

THE 1111]).

 

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