I soon found that I was no longer master of my former powers, as when I knew the word “tired” only by name. Frequent attacks of ague had robbed my muscles of their elasticity: with all my exertions, I could hardly accomplish more than twenty miles the first day, and had enough to do to make thirteen the next; in the evening, tired to death, I arrived at Von G.’s, on the Little Red river. Next day it came on to rain heavily, and I considered myself fortunate in having a good roof over my head. I remained with Von G. till the 9th, when I went to my old friend Hilger. I passed a few very pleasant weeks with him, helped the old fellow at his work now and then, but generally went out turkey shooting. I was treated as one of the family. But my restless spirit and desire for change, which drove me away from every place where I had made friends, would not allow me to remain here; I must away, for the peaceful life of the happy family caused me mournful thoughts: to escape them, I determined to return to the swamps, as in winter the danger was less imminent.
The Hilgers begged me to remain, but the spirit which possessed me was too strong for them, and I took a warm leave of them all; the children, however, would not hear of my departure, and the little three-year-old girl was only to be pacified by a promise that she should go with me. The dear little thing actually put on her bonnet, accompanied me for a quarter of a mile, and then her brother had to carry her home by force; my eyes moistened as she held forth her little hand, and called out my name.
On, on, without delay, till the evening of the 25th January saw me at Bay de View, a little river running between, and parallel to, the Cash and l’Anguille. I pitched my camp on one of the many old Indian sepulchral mounds there. Deer and turkeys were plentiful, but, like the little distiller, the idea of a buffalo hunt had got fixed in my head. So on the 27th I followed the course of the stream, through the wild forest, and at night, beside the crackling fire, gave myself up to troubled thoughts. I had become so used to forest life, that I seldom required the compass; in the level marshy land, with its straight gigantic trees, the traveller can easily find his way by paying attention to the moss, which grows much longer and fuller on the north side than on the south.
In a day or two it began to freeze; as the ground was covered with water, in many places knee deep, the noise I made in breaking the ice drove away all the game within hearing. On the 28th and 29th January, I could not get a shot, and lived on the remains of a turkey, and some maize I had in my pockets. On the 30th I had nothing but the maize, which I roasted and devoured with the greatest appetite; but instead of appeasing my hunger, it only served to excite it the more, and I began seriously to chew tender stems of sassafras, in order to have something in my stomach.
My baggage was no great burden to me. At White river I had exchanged my buffalo skin for a blanket—I had one spare shirt in my game-bag, with a pair of rather woful looking socks, a small cord, a bullet mould, and a few bits of lead; but my greatest incumbrance was the zither, which hung over my shoulder. Yet it fully repaid me for all my trouble, when I reposed by the fire after the day’s toil, and I never could have prevailed on myself to leave it in the lurch.
Towards evening, as, still suffering from raging hunger, I was looking out for a dry spot to sleep on, I felt it growing colder every moment; I made haste to light a good fire, and threw myself before it completely exhausted. A hard frost came on, and a little later I was delighted to see it begin to snow. I coiled myself up as well as I could and was soon asleep. I was awakened in the night by the frightful howling of the wolves, which probably had no better sport than myself, and I consoled myself with the idea that perhaps they were only half as hungry. I got up several times during the night to shake off the snow, and feed the fire with the large logs I had collected the evening before; so that, notwithstanding the severity of the cold, I enjoyed a comfortable warmth.
A bough breaking with the weight of snow, roused me out of my sleep, and when I pulled the blanket from my eyes they were nearly blinded by the bright reflection of the sun’s rays from the white surface. The snow suited my purposes very well; I rubbed my hands and face with it, till they were quite in a glow, and having no breakfast to cook, I was soon on the march. Though weakened by my long fast, my good night’s rest and reawakend hope inspired me with new force, and I lost no time in seeking something to appease my ravenous appetite, as I roamed at random under the heavily laden trees. The evening before, I had discovered, near my sleeping place, an overcup oak, bearing sweet acorns, some of which I gathered and devoured, so as not to leave my stomach entirely unemployed. This tree grows to a great size, but only in the marshes;—the leaves are small, and the acorn is covered by the cup, with the exception of a small opening at the top, whence the name. It is nearly round, and serves for food in case of need, being less bitter than the common sort. Bears are particularly fond of it.
I had not gone far from my bivouac when I came on the fresh trail of an old buck, which I followed up swiftly and silently through snow half a foot deep, passing several places where he had lain down. After following the track for about three hours, it became confused, but as I was forcing my way through a thickly tangled thorn-bush, the buck stood before me, looking at me with inquiring eyes. Ere I could clear myself of the good-for-nothing creepers, he was off again, leaving me to admire the immense leaps he had made in the commencement of his flight; his third leap had been over a bush from eight to nine feet high, and from the spot where he took off to that where he lighted was about twenty feet. I found that he had soon slackened his pace to a walk, so quickening my steps, I followed him cautiously. I saw him a second time standing in a thicket about a hundred paces off, and evidently on the look-out; I had no hopes of getting nearer, so took steady aim and fired: he gave a start on one side, then fled in wild haste through the thick jungle. I was now certain of him, so loaded quietly and walked to the spot where he had been standing. The snow was discolored with blood, and a broad stripe of large dark red spots pointed out the path he had taken.
Being somewhat exhausted by the sharp pace, and wishing to allow the poor beast to lie down in peace, I seated myself on a fallen tree. After half an hour’s rest, I followed him again; unfortunately he had made for the river, to lave his burning wound in its cool waves, and, having swum across, he was lying dead on the snow, on the other side, in a pool of blood.
Had I not been half starved, I should not have thought of venturing into the cold water; but necessity would admit of no hesitation. I bound together some logs of decayed wood, as floating lightest, laid on the raft my rifle, zither, blanket, hunting-shirt, powder-horn, gamebag, and shirt, and stepped into the icy-cold water. I kept on my lower garments, as they were already wet through from the small streams I had waded in the course of the chase. I dipped my head as soon as I could, and then swam across, pushing my raft before me.