The long, trying voyage of the Yellowstone and Missouri gave Paul a keen relish for a few week's rest at home. He recuperated so rapidly, however, that when he received an invitation from a friend to go on a hunting expedition aboard a private steamboat, he was ripe to accept it. The steamer was then on the Mississippi and Paul joining her at Memphis, her nose was turned for southwestern waters. They steamed up the Arkansas to Bayou Meta, and were soon far in the depths of the woods. Though the water of the bayou was very deep, it was so narrow at places that trees and vines had to be cut away so the boat could push her way through. Several weeks were spent in shooting deer and bear, catching coon, opossum and other game. At their manufactured salt licks, they succeeded in taking all the deer they wanted. Boyton's love for pets quickly manifested itself and every odd corner of the little steamer had an occupant. Among these was a cub bear, captured after killing the old one, by throwing a coat over it. It was a vicious little brute at first, spitting and clawing at everything that went near it, and it seemed impossible to train. After many things had been tried without avail, a stick with some honey on its end was thrust between the bars of the cage. The little fellow struck at it wickedly at first, but noticing the honey on its paws, began to smell, then to taste it. The honey was so much to its liking that it was soon eating out of Boyton's hand and in a short time it was as tame and playful as a kitten.
Tiring of hunting, Paul was taken with a desire to feel the current of the Arkansas, to which river they returned and with such intention, he packed his dress and tender and proceeded to Ft. Smith, starting above that city at the mouth of the Poteau river, Choctaw Nation, Indian Territory, January 12th, 1882, for a four hundred mile run to Pine Bluff. The weather was cold and the chill of Rocky Mountain snow was in the river. The course was rather lonely, winding amid bleak hills and for long stretches there would be small signs of life. At the end of the first day's paddling, he hauled up at a farm house to request shelter for the night. A woman told him that the men were not in yet, but she "reckoned he could stay, though there was no bed." Paul told her he did not require a bed and when the men came in they tendered him the comforts of the cabin. After supper the time was passed in chatting over their pipes around a spacious fireplace, in front of which, Paul was to sleep. During the evening he admired a beautiful little girl four years of age. She was as shy at first as she was pretty; but finally mustered sufficient courage to edge timidly up to his side and ask:
"Please sah, gimme a chaw tobacca?"
"Why, my dear little girl you do not chew tobacco at your age, do you?" exclaimed Paul.
"Yo' bet she do, stranger," answered the father, "she's jus' a chawer from away back," at the same time giving her a goodly sized piece of the weed.
The mother, who was attending to score domestic affairs, overheard the conversation and turning to Paul, remarked:
"Now, stranger, do yo' raily think uts right t' give a chile like thet tobacca?"
"Decidedly I do not," said Paul.
"Look ut thet; look ut thet, Dan," she exclaimed triumphantly, addressing her husband, "even a stranger don't think uts right. What hev I allus been a tellin' yo'?"
The farmer laughed as he replied: "Oh, she'll git over thet w'en she gits sixteen an' goes sparkin' an' wants t' whiten her teeth."