My host was thunderstruck; he was too much of a hunter not to be able to estimate the size of the animals by the tokens I had brought with me, and he had believed that for the last twenty or thirty years, not one of these terrible animals was actually living in the country. The fact was so very remarkable, that he insisted on going himself that very night with his negroes to skin the animals; and, after a hasty meal, he left us to fulfil his intentions. Relating my adventures to my kind hostess and her niece, I had the satisfaction of feeling that my narrative excited emotions which could only arise from a strong interest in my welfare.
This panther story got wind, and nothing could convince the neighbouring farmers but the very sight of the skins. All the western newspapers related the matter, and for two months at least I was quite a “lion.”
A few days after that adventure, the Caroline, the largest and finest steam-boat upon the Mississippi, struck a snag in coming down the stream, and sank immediately. The river, however, being very low, the upper decks remained above water, and help coming down from the neighbouring plantations, all the passengers were soon brought on shore without any loss of life. Three hundred sheep, one hundred hogs, eighty cows, and twelve horses were left to their fate, and it was a painful sight to witness the efforts of the poor brutes struggling against the powerful current and looking towards the people on shore, as if to implore for help.
Only one pig, two cows, and five horses ever reached the bank of the river, many disappearing under the repeated attacks of the gar-fish, and other monsters, and the remainder carried by the stream to feed the alligators and the cawanas of the south. But very few objects on board were insured, and hundreds of hogsheads of Missouri tobacco and barrels of Kentucky our were several days afterwards picked up by the Arkansas and Tennessee wreckers. Articles thus lost by shipwreck upon the Mississippi are seldom reclaimed, as the principal owners of the goods, on hearing the news, generally collect all the property which they can, run away, change their names, and enter upon new speculations in another state.
Among the passengers on board, Mr Courtenay recognised several of his friends, whom he directly invited into the mansion, while temporary sheds were erected for the others, till some steamboat should pass and take them off. So sudden had been the catastrophe, that no luggage of any kind had been saved, and several Englishmen, travelling to purchase cotton and minerals, suffered very serious loss. As to the Americans themselves, though they complained very loudly, vowing they would bring an action against the river, the steam-boats, against every boat, and every thing, for I don’t know how many millions of dollars, their losses were very trifling, as it is the custom for a man in the Western States to carry all his money in his pocketbook, and his pocket-book in his pocket; as to luggage, he never has any except a small valise, two feet long, in which are contained a shirt, two bosoms, three frills, a razor, and a brush, which may serve for his head, clothing, boots, and perhaps teeth.
It was amusing to hear all the complaints that were made, and to enumerate the sums which were stated to have been lost; there was not one among the travellers, even among those who had taken a deck-passage, who had not lost from ten to fifty thousand dollars, with which he was going to purchase a cotton plantations a steam-boat, or a whole cargo of Havannah cigars. What made it more ridiculous was the facility with which everybody found a witness to certify his loss. “I had five thousand dollars,” one would say; “ask the general: he will tell you if it is true.” “True, as I am an honest man,” would answer the general, “to wit, that I swapped with the judge my eastern notes for his southern ones.”
It would be impossible to explain to a sober Englishman the life that is led on, and the numerous tricks that are played in Mississippi steam-boat. One I will mention, which will serve as a sample. An itinerant preacher, well known as a knave upon both banks, and the whole length of the river, used (before he was sent to the Penitentiary for picking pockets) to live comfortably in the steam-boats without ever paying a farthing. From St. Louis he would book for New Orleans, and the passage-money never being asked in the West but at the termination of the trip, the preacher would go on shore at Vicksburg, Natches, Bayon, Sarah, or any other such station in the way. Then he would get on board any boat bound to the Ohio, book himself for Louisville, and step on shore at Memphis. He had no luggage of any kind except a green cotton umbrella; but, in order to lull all suspicion, he contrived always to see the captain or the clerk in his office, and to ask them confidentially if they knew the man sleeping in the upper bed, if he was respectable, as he, the preacher, had in his trunks considerable sums intrusted to him by some societies. The consequence was, that, believing him rich, the captain and officers would pay him a great deal of attention, inviting him to wine and liquor. When he disappeared, they would express how sorry they were to have been obliged to leave the gentleman behind, but they hoped they would see him at St. Louis, New Orleans, or Louisville, or hear from him, so as to know where to direct his trunks. But they would soon ascertain that there were no trunks left behind, that there had never been any brought on board, and that they had been duped by a clever sharper.
In less than twenty-four hours almost all the passengers had got on board some other boats, but those who had been invited by Mr Courtenay tarried a few days with us, for we were on the eve of a great fishing party on the lake, which in the Far-West is certainly a very curious scene. Among the new guests were several cotton planters from the South, and English cotton-brokers. One of them had passed a short time among the Mormons, at Nauvoo, and had many amusing stories to tell of them. One I select among many, which is the failure of an intended miracle by Joe Smith.
Towards the close of a fine summer’s day, a farmer of Ioway found a respectable-looking man at his gate, who requested permission to pass the night under his roof. The hospitable farmer readily complied; the stranger was invited into the house, and a warm and substantial supper set before him.
After he had eaten, the farmer, who appeared to be a jovial, warm-hearted, humorous, and withal a shrewd old man, passed several hours in conversation with his guest, who seemed to be very ill at ease, both in body and mind; yet, as if desirous of pleasing his entertainer, he replied courteously and agreeably to whatever was said to him. Finally, he pleaded fatigue and illness as an excuse for retiring to rest, and was conducted by the farmer to an upper chamber where he went to bed.