Wild Sports in the Far West

by Friedrich Gerstäcker

As soon as we were well warmed, we made torches, and entered the cave as cautiously as possible, each with a burning torch in his left hand, and a rifle in the right. I went first, but the cave was soon roomy enough to admit of our walking upright beside each other. Some distance in, it took a turn to the left, and about two hundred paces in advance we saw the fiery eyeballs of the beast, who kept shutting them from time to time. Conwell, taking my torch, stepped behind me, while I took aim and fired. We heard a noise after the shot, but could not make out the result; I reloaded as fast as possible, while Conwell went in advance, but we could see nothing more of the animal’s eyes. We went on with cocked rifles on our left arm. Moving silently and cautiously forward, we suddenly discovered the panther in a little hollow close to our feet, a beautiful but alarming sight, his ears laid back, his teeth gnashing in wild rage, and his glowing eyes so wide open, that they seemed half out of their sockets. Inspired by one impulse, we both fired so exactly together, that neither knew that the other had done so. Our enemy was hit, but whether mortally or not was more than we could tell. Dropping our rifles like lightning, we drew our knives; a sore need we had of them, for before the sound of the rifles expired, we felt the weight of the panther upon us. I drove my knife into him, and sprang back; our torches were extinguished; it all passed so quickly, that I did not recover full possession of my senses, till I stood beside my old friend in the fresh air at the mouth of the cave. I only remember that, in the impenetrable darkness and thick smoke, I did not know which way to turn, and that Conwell dragged me out. When we came into the light of day, we found ourselves covered with sweat and blood, and our clothes all torn.

Conwell complained of pain in the breast. Tearing open his shirt, we found two deep gashes from the left shoulder to the pit of the stomach; I had escaped with only a few scratches. We had neither of us felt when we were wounded, but before we troubled ourselves about it, we made a fire in the mouth of the cave to prevent the panther from coming out; then washed and bound up our wounds, and sat by the fire to consider what was next to be done. There was the panther in the cave, whether alive or dead we knew not. At any rate, he was badly wounded, for both our knives, with blades nine inches long, were bloody to the hilt. But indeed we had no choice; our rifles, and Conwell’s ball-pouch, which the brute had torn away, were still in the cave.

It might perhaps have been possible to suffocate the panther with smoke, but there might have been another opening, and then we should have had our trouble for nothing. We soon made up our minds, and entered the cave again with fresh torches and bare knives, but not without beating hearts. We moved silently and cautiously on, holding the torches well before us, so as not to be so agreeably surprised a second time. We recovered our rifles without seeing the enemy. I held both the torches while Conwell loaded his rifle, then gave them to him while I loaded mine; and having our faithful weapons once more in our hands, we stepped forward again still slowly and silently, but with lighter hearts. “There!” suddenly called out C., holding his torch aloft, and staring before him; it was the first word spoken since we re-entered the cave. The panther lay stretched on the ground; no longer dangerous, for the last convulsions were over. We skinned him and cut him up; all the balls had taken effect, and both our knives had pierced his body, so that it was only in his death-struggle that he sprang upon us. We took the skin, although it almost looked like a sieve, and returned to our fire.

It was night by the time we came out of the cave, and, with hungry stomachs, lay all four by the fire; for neither we nor the dogs had any fancy to eat the panther. Conwell suffered very much from his wound, but towards morning he fell into a tolerably quiet sleep. We moved off with the first gleam of day to the place where I had hung up the buck, breakfasted there, and started for fresh game.

Meantime it had become warmer. The snow had disappeared, but all the game seemed to have gone on their travels; for although we saw signs enough, not a shot could we get. In the night we were awakened by a thin cold rain, and having no mind to get wet through, we jumped up, cut poles with our heavy knives, and spreading my blanket, which was the largest, over them, and laying ourselves on the other, underneath it, after making up the fire afresh, that the rain might not put it out, we were soon fast asleep.

Next morning brought fresh troubles, but no reward. Dispirited, we wandered the whole day through the wet forest, without seeing a turkey. The meat we had brought with us was getting low, as we had not been very saving of it, and had given the larger share to the dogs; after breakfast there was one small piece left for each to share with his dog at night; still hoping, we walked on cautiously and attentively till late at night, without seeing even so much as a vulture.

On the morning of the 29th of January, we sat by the fire with empty stomachs, and stared sorrowfully at the crackling flames. At length Conwell burst out with a loud laugh, and asked whether we were forced to remain in this deserted spot, and why we should not go home. But I would not give it up yet; to go home with nothing but a panther’s skin full of holes was too bad, and I begged for one more day; at any rate, if we found nothing before twelve o’clock, we could then meet at the camp and return home. In silence, and on the watch for the merest trifles, I wandered with Bearsgrease through all the places where hitherto I had almost always found game, without meeting a sign; and my hunger was quite painful. How I thought of shooting parties at home, where one was sure of finding some sort of a house every half hour; here, was only thick forest, where one wet dripping tree looked exactly like another. And yet it was not without its charms. For instance, every now and then you were entangled by the thorns of the black locust, or if your slippery moccasins caused you to fall, you might be sure of finding some of them conveniently placed to receive you.

I returned to the camp about noon, exhausted and dispirited, and found my old comrade stretched quietly by the fire. He said he had been waiting for me about a couple of hours; that it was very clear there was no game to shoot; and I was now of the same opinion. Heartily sick of the useless fatigue, we shouldered the skin and our blankets, and left the place with heavy hearts and weary limbs.

It was long after dark when we arrived at Conwell’s home, and received the usual kind welcome, and we were heartily laughed at, when, instead of bringing provisions, we fell, like famished wolves, upon every thing eatable that came in our way. A long draught of fresh milk did me, above every thing else, an immensity of good.

I would willingly have enjoyed a day’s rest; but Conwell—who, in spite of his deep gashes, which were not yet healed, was as fresh and strong as ever after his first meal, and could not remain quiet under the circumstances—impressed on me the necessity of trying again, otherwise people would believe that we had lost the power of shooting a deer. So we were off again before noon, gained the source of the Hurricane, rode across the “Devil’s Stepping Path,” a narrow rock with a precipice on each side, left the Pilot-rock on our left, and came towards evening into the pine forests, where we were sure of finding kindlers. Descending the steep side of a mountain, we observed a column of thin blue smoke by the side of a stream, showing that some hunters were encamped there. We went straight towards it, and found it to be an Indian camp, and our former acquaintance, young Erskine, among them. They were Cherokees with three young Choctaws, these two tribes being on good terms. Like ourselves, they were out bear-hunting, but had had better luck. A quantity of bear meat was hanging about the camp, and even the dogs could eat no more. Casting ourselves down by the fire, one of the squaws—for there were several women in the camp—immediately cooked some bear for us, with which we duly regaled ourselves.