We remained the night at Collmar’s, and departed next day on our various ways, after a very frugal breakfast, for we had devoured all his store.
It was cold and foggy, and I was glad to get to Hogarth’s, where I passed the night, returning next day to Slowtrap’s. On relating the extraordinary behavior of the fox; he gave one of his smiles, and told many droll stories of the tricks of foxes, and one of a wild-cat, which attacked a man in the marshes of the Cash. The man had gone out early in the morning to shoot a turkey, and hearing a cock gobbling away with all his might, he placed himself behind a fallen tree, and began to use his call, when a wild-cat, probably deceived by the sound, sprang upon him like a fury, and attempted to bite through the veins of his neck. He found it impossible to pull the beast off, and was obliged to kill it behind his back with his scalping-knife; he was confined to his bed for several weeks, before he recovered from the ugly wounds caused by the cat’s teeth and claws.
The weather cleared up next morning, and as old Slowtrap was still unprepared for his journey, I resolved to cross the river to shoot, and went to Curly’s on the same day. As the deer kept themselves close hid in the daytime, we determined to have a shot in the night. An iron pan was soon prepared, and with my old German game-bag, which had accompanied me in all my wanderings, full of kindlers, our rolled-up blankets on our shoulders, we set off as soon as it was dark. A sharp wind had made the leaves so dry in the course of a few hours, that our footsteps might be heard at three hundred yards off; consequently we saw no deer, and after carrying the pan to and fro for about three hours, we got tired of such useless trouble. On arriving at a small stream, we made a good fire, and after a frugal supper had set our chins for a very short time in motion, we rolled ourselves in our blankets, and lay down each with his dog pressed close to his side.
We rose at daybreak, and following different routes, appointed a rendezvous at Curly’s, as we did not mean to make a long affair of it. Bad luck seemed to stick to us, for though we found plenty of trails, we saw no game. At length Bearsgrease found a fresh trail, and followed it up, often looking round to see if I was near him; so I kept as close as possible. Suddenly he stood still and pointed, and an old buck got up about fifty yards from us, and made a half circle round us. When I gave a hail, he stood still as if to ask what I wanted. It happened that I was to windward of him; and snuffing the air he gave a bound, which caused my ball to strike too far backwards under his spine, bringing him on his haunches. Bearsgrease had been observing it all with remarkable patience, only turning his head from one to the other;—but now giving vent to his eagerness he darted on the deer, seized him by the jaw, and springing over his back, brought him to the ground. I had now a good opportunity of cutting the deer’s throat, but wished to give the dog a little practice, and I watched the struggle with the greatest interest. The buck was one of twelve branches, and had the full use of the forepart of his body. He strove to hit the dog with his sharp hoof, and to run his horns into him; but the dog cleverly eluded all his attempts, and at last seizing him by the throat, held him fast, while I ended his torments with my knife.
As Slowtrap had assured me that he would be ready to make the long-expected journey in a few days, I would not delay. I skinned the deer, packed the two haunches in the skin, fed the dog, and trudged away heavily laden up and down hill to Curly’s house.
Slowtrap was not ready. It was quite out of his character to be hurried. I saw no end of his awful procrastination; yet there was nothing left for it but patience. On my arrival, he was busy making a sledge to draw wood, that his wife might have enough for several weeks; this was no trifle, considering what enormous logs were consumed in these fireplaces.
The next day was a washing-day—and a washing-day in most places, and in Arkansas in particular, is an awful thing to a man whether married or not. Curly’s young wife and sister had volunteered to assist, and to me was deputed the honor of escorting them; I buckled a blanket on the horse, and rode over, but as all three could not find room at once, I had to make two trips. All the American women are good riders. Curly’s wife jumped up lightly behind me, and held on by my belt. Away we went at a gallop through the foaming though shallow river and thick forest, to Slowtrap’s house, where having safely deposited my charge, I hastened back for the sister. I had now to think of my own safety, as it would have been foolhardiness to have remained near three women on a washing-day. Being tired from yesterday’s exertions, to take a long walk, I decided on shooting wild-fowl; so seizing S.’s long rifle with a hundred balls to the pound, I sauntered down to Porter’s Creek. The number of ducks was astounding. I lay down in a quiet shady place, and only fired when a good opportunity offered, Bearsgrease securing the prize. To be sure he frightened the others away, but only for a time; they soon returned, and by the evening I had bagged thirteen.
The two next days were wet and disagreeable. All we could do was to cut and stack wood. When the sun again shone through the clouds on the moist smoking ground, it was the 12th of December, and I went again over to Curly’s to shoot another deer before the journey, if possible. Old Collmar was there and a young man of the name of Martin, who was rather eccentric; he was about twenty-five, and had not a single hair on his head. He used to tell extraordinary stories as to the cause of his baldness, in which he frequently got confused, when he would start up, rush out of the house, and never show himself again the whole day. Sometimes when he was engaged to work, he would steal away, leaving his wages, and sometimes his clothes. We gained from him, that he had married a wooden-legged woman in Illinois, and had left her there; but he told it in such a way that we doubted its truth. He told the most absurd stories of what he had seen and experienced, and flew into the most violent passions if the least doubt was manifested. Thus passed the afternoon. When it was dark C. and I took our firepan to try our luck once more. We went southwards towards the hills, in the first instance, and then turned to the westward, the stars shining brightly; but gradually thick clouds began to appear, and some flashes of lightning were visible. We continued walking in the same direction without seeing any deer, and may have gone on about three quarters of an hour when we came to a clearing. Looking upwards to find our way by the stars, we saw, to our horror, that the whole sky was one mass of black clouds. I had now left my compass at home, the wind blew in violent gusts, and thunder in the distance kindly gave us notice that a storm was approaching.
Nothing is easier than to lose one’s way in the forest by torchlight; for the fire lights up only a few paces around, giving a peculiar appearance to the trees, and all beyond thirty yards is the blackest darkness, and all points of the compass look alike. I now recollected that when I last carried the pan (for we took it in turns), I had observed it was lightning under the north star, which was not then covered by clouds, and we concluded that the storm must have advanced towards the east. A heavy clap of thunder informed us that we had no time to lose; so we beat our retreat, keeping the lightning on the left hand. We may have been about two miles from Curly’s house; the lightning came quicker and brighter, the thunder louder, and we fled like two ghosts with our waving flame, when by one of the flashes Curly distinguished the roof of his abode; we hastened to it as fast as our legs would carry us, dashed in, and fastened the door, just as the hail came down as if it was trying to split every plank on the roof. As we looked at each other we broke into such an immoderate fit of laughter, that we could scarcely recover ourselves. The noise of our arrival, the thunder, hail, and our loud laugh awoke all the inmates. Martin’s handkerchief, which he wore at night to cover his pate, had slipped off, and his queer appearance, as he looked at us with astonishment, set us off laughing again.
Meantime the hail gave place to heavy rain; but “savage tyrants reign not long,” and presently the beauteous stars looked down quite cheerily upon us.