CHAPTER VI.
ABANDON OUR CAMP AND HORSE IN SEARCH OF SETTLEMENTS—INCIDENTS OF THE FIRST DAY—HEAR A SHOT—CAMP IN AN OLD INDIAN LODGE—ACORNS FOR SUPPER—KILL A WOODPECKER—INCIDENTS OF THE SECOND DAY—STERILE RIDGES—WANT OF WATER—CAMP AT NIGHT IN A DEEP GORGE—INCIDENTS OF THE THIRD DAY—FIND A HORSE-PATH, AND PURSUE IT—DISCOVER A MAN ON HORSEBACK—REACH A HUNTER'S CABIN—INCIDENTS THERE—HE CONDUCTS US BACK TO OUR OLD CAMP—DESERTED THERE WITHOUT PROVISIONS—DEPLORABLE STATE—SHIFTS—TAKING OF A TURKEY.
Nov. 27th. Action is the price of safety in the woods. Neither dreams nor poetic visions kept us on our pallets a moment longer than it was light enough to see the grey tints of morning. Each of us prepared a compact knapsack, containing a blanket and a few absolute necessaries, and gave our belts an extra jerk before lifting our guns to our shoulders; then, secretly wishing our friend Butcher a good time in the canebrake, we set out with a light pace towards the south. My companion Bonee[8] was much attached to tea, and, as the article of a small tin pot was indispensable to the enjoyment of this beverage, he burthened himself with this appendage by strapping it on his back with a green sash. This was not a very military sort of accoutrement; but as he did not pride himself in that way, and had not, in fact, the least notion of the ridiculous figure he cut with it, I was alone in my unexpressed sense of the Fridayishness of his looks on the march, day by day, across the prairies and through the woods, with this not very glittering culinary appendage dangling at his back.
Hope gave animation to our steps. We struck out from the valley southerly, which brought us to an elevated open tract, partially wooded, in which the walking was good. After travelling about six miles, we heard the report of a gun on our left. Supposing it to proceed from some white hunter, we tried to get into communication with him, and hallooed stoutly. This was answered. I withdrew the ball from my gun, and fired. We then followed the course of the shot and halloo. But, although a whoop was once heard, which seemed from its intonation to be Indian, we were unsuccessful in gaining an interview, and, after losing a good deal of time in the effort, were obliged to give it up, and proceed. We had now lost some hours.
Much of our way lay through open oak forests, with a thick bed of fallen leaves, and we several times searched under these for sweet acorns; but we uniformly found that the wild turkeys had been too quick for us—every sweet acorn had been scratched up and eaten, and none remained but such as were bitter and distasteful. On descending an eminence, we found the sassafras plentifully, and, breaking off branches of it, chewed them, which took away the astringent and bad taste of the acorns.
As night approached, we searched in vain for water on the elevated grounds, and were compelled to seek the river valley, where we encamped in an old Indian wigwam of bark, and found the night chilly and cold. We turned restlessly on our pallets, waiting for day.
Nov. 28th. Daylight was most welcome. I built a fire against the stump of a dead tree, which had been broken off by lightning at a height of some thirty or forty feet from the ground. We here boiled our tea, and accurately divided about half an ounce of dried meat, being the last morsel we had. While thus engaged, a red-headed woodpecker lit on the tree, some fifteen or twenty feet above our heads, and began pecking. The visit was a most untimely one for the bird. In a few more moments, he lay dead at the foot of the tree, and, being plucked, roasted, and divided, furnished out our repast. We then gave the straps of our accoutrements a tight jerk, by way of preventing a flaccid stomach—an Indian habit—and set forward with renewed strength and hope. We travelled this day over a rolling country of hill and dale, with little to relieve the eye or demand observation, and laid down at night, fatigued, in the edge of a canebrake.
Nov. 29th. A dense fog, which overhung the whole valley, prevented our quitting camp at a very early hour. When it arose, and the atmosphere became sufficiently clear to discern our way, we ascended the hills to our left, and took a west-south-west course.