All next day I was obliged to remain quiet, on account of my swelled face, and was rewarded for my patience by being nearly well by the evening. As the baggage we had hitherto carried was too heavy, we resolved to leave some of it with these people till we saw what was likely to become of us. We had neither of us any settled plan. Our mutual wish had only been freedom and the forest, rightly conjecturing that all the rest would come of itself.
As on the second day we continued our journey a great deal lighter, and with renewed strength. After several miles walk we came to a smithy, where, luckily, I could get my gun repaired, otherwise I should not have been able to shoot. This smithy was at a Mr. Strong’s plantation, where the road branches off to Little Rock, and to Batesville. We were undecided which to take, when we were told that we should find much more game on the road to Batesville. This settled the point. We waited till the cool of the evening to resume our march. While the smith was repairing my gun, the Tennessee man, with his family, arrived from the marsh. He had been three days and three nights coming the ten miles, and even now it is a riddle to me how he managed it.
On the evening of the 26th of May, after a rich feast on the quantities of blackberries which grew by the way, we came to a house belonging to a man of the name of Saint, and decided on staying there to sleep; we found a better set of people than we had expected, and engaged in a long conversation with our host. After supper, to our no small horror we learnt that unless we could swim twenty-eight miles, further progress was not to be thought of, as the whole swamp between this and White river was under water. Uhl and I looked at each other, with long faces, as much as to say, “quid faciamus nos;” but Saint was good enough to invite us to stay with him till the swamp had somewhat dried up, which at least would be about the middle of July; meantime we could go out shooting, and the game we brought home would well repay him for all our expenses.
This, of course, was grist to our mill, and we soon made ourselves at home. On the following morning, almost before we were settled, we went to the forest with our host, a keen sportsman, to look for bears, taking seven dogs with us. And what a country he took us to! Swamps and thorns, creepers, wild vines, fallen trees, half or entirely rotted, deep and muddy water-courses, bushes so thick that you could hardly stick a knife into them, and, to complete the enjoyment, clouds of mosquitoes and gnats, not to mention snakes lying about on the edges of the water-courses; such is the aboriginal American forest, and in such a scene we commenced our sport.
After an hour or two, the dogs started a young bear, and followed him in full cry, but had not gone far when they were stopped by the river l’Anguille, or, as they call it here, the Langee; neither coaxing nor threats could induce them to take to the water, and Saint thought that if one of us swam over, the dogs would follow, and that we should find the trail again on the other side. Saint could not swim, Uhl would not: so I threw off my clothes, and plunged in. The river, which in summer is very shallow, and hardly seems to flow, was now much swollen, and had overflowed its banks. As soon as I had swam some distance, Saint began to cheer on the dogs, and I soon heard them spring into the water, one after the other, and follow me. I was swimming slowly with long strokes, and had reached about the middle of the river, when I heard two of the dogs close behind me, while Saint was still cheering them on from the bank, as if to attack a bear. The two near me were barking furiously, and the thought flashed upon me: suppose they were to seize me? If only one had attacked me, all the rest would have joined, and as they were strangers to me, if they had fallen upon me I should have had no chance: so I began to strike out as hard and as fast as I could to reach the shore. Exerting myself for my life, I came nearer and nearer the bank, but the excited dogs swam faster still, and I heard the snorting of one of them close to me when I felt the ground: in an instant I and the dogs were both on shore. The danger was over now, and they began to hunt; but either the bear had followed the stream, and landed lower down, or the ground was too wet for the scent; in short, we could not find the trail. We tried our luck at another place, with no more success, and returned home towards evening quite tired and out of spirits.
Our hosts to all appearance were very religious people, and we had prayers every evening. This evening we went early to bed, being all very tired, so that, as yet, I hardly had time to take much notice of the people we were to live with. We had to be awakened for breakfast; afterwards we strolled about the house and fields to realize our situation. Saint was a man of about forty, with a bright clear eye, and open brow; you were captivated by him at the very first sight. His wife, an Irishwoman, treated us very civilly and kindly, and proved to be an excellent manager. They had no children; but there was another person in the house, who demands a more particular description. This was a duodecimo Irish shoemaker, or, as he always insisted—schoolmaster, for such, by his own account, was his former occupation, though now he made shoes. Saint had bought a quantity of leather, and the little Irishman was to work it up, receiving a certain monthly sum. He had red hair, was pock-marked, stood about five feet, but was stout and strongly built, and may have been about fifty years old. He spoke unwillingly about his age, wishing to pass for much younger. Saint, who loved to joke with him, told us, with a smile, that on Sunday we should see him in his best, when he would go to pay his court to a young widow in the neighborhood.
The house was built of logs, roughly cut. It consisted of two ordinary houses, under one roof, with a passage between them open to north and south, a nice cool place to eat or sleep in during summer. Like all block-houses of this sort, it was roofed with rough four-feet planks; there were no windows, but in each house a good fireplace of clay. A field of about five acres was in front of the house, planted with Indian corn, excepting a small portion which was planted with wheat. Southwest from the house stood the stable, which S. was obliged to build, because he gave “good accommodation to man and horse;” otherwise it is not much the custom in Arkansas to trouble one’s self about stables. A place, called a “lot,” with a high fence, is used for the horses, hollowed trees serving for mangers. Near at hand was a smaller log-house for the store of Indian corn, and a couple of hundred paces further was a mill which S. had built to grind such corn as he wanted for his own use, and which was worked by one horse.
About a quarter of a mile from the house, through the wood, there was another field of about five acres, also sown with maize. The river l’Anguille flowed close in the rear of the house; another small building at the back of the dwelling was used as a smoking house; near it was a well about thirty-two feet deep.
We went out shooting and wandering through the woods all day long, though with little sport. Uhl had had better luck than I, so being firmly resolved to bring home something, I had been straying in the forest from daybreak, when at last I saw a deer. Firing too eagerly I took bad aim, and he fled with long bounds to the thicket; but red marks on the leaves showed that he was hit. I followed the trail;—but without a dog it was slow work, and then the increasing darkness convinced me of the impossibility of finding either the deer or the way back to the house, being as yet too unacquainted with the country to be able to find my way by the stars.
I was soon comfortably stretched by a blazing fire, and should have done very well, but for the stomach, that constant tormentor, who kept reminding me that he had had no work to do since the morning, except to consume a few insignificant green sassafras leaves. The night was beautiful, the stars shining brilliantly, and the weather fortunately too cool for mosquitoes. I soon slept quietly and comfortably till about midnight, when I was awakened by the disagreeable howling of the wolves; it seemed as if they had all assembled to give me a serenade; if so, the poor beasts had a very ungrateful audience. During the interval, the sharp roar of a panther was heard rather too close to my lair. Such a neighbor was by no means desirable or trustworthy; so I fired in the direction whence I heard the sound, and he flew back again to the jungle. I now made up my fire afresh, and was soon asleep for the second time.