CHAPTER V.

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CINCINNATI—A FARMER’S LIFE IN THE WOODS.

Scenery around New Orleans—Arrangements of American steamers—Cincinnati and its reputation—Number of German inhabitants—Situation of the town—Religious absurdities; the girl “possessed with a devil”—Dangers of American steam navigation—The “Mississippi”—Rambles in the woods—Crawfish—Mosquitoes—Picnic in the woods—Poisonous plants—Residence with a backwoodsman, and farming operations—Wild honey—Cattle keeping—Turkeys’ eggs—A Methodist meeting—Attack of ague—Our farming operations.

I found letters and money awaiting me here, which came very opportunely, as I had expended nearly all I had gained. I now looked out for a passage to Cincinnati; the steamer “Chillicothe” was to start for that place at ten the next day. I paid five dollars for 1,500 miles. A cheaper voyage is almost impossible. We did not start till evening.

On ascending the river from New Orleans, the scenery is quite enchanting. There is a succession of plantations, with country-houses embosomed in orange and pomegranate trees, &c., while the regular rows of negro cottages give a peculiar character to the whole.

The Mississippi steamers are light and sharp, built to make their passages as quick as possible, and to enrich their owners in five or six years,—then they may burst or sink. The boilers are in the forepart of the vessel, the stokers working under them in the open air. They reach nearly to the centre, some steamers having as many as eight; the “Chillicothe” had seven. The machinery, also on deck, comes next, and then a place for steerage-passengers, where there is no want of fresh air; it is provided with three rows of bed places. Mounting a flight of steps you find the officers’ cabins forward, and generally a bar for the sale of various drinks, excepting in the “Temperance” boats. The saloon is in the centre, having sleeping cabins with glass doors, for gentlemen, on each side; and near the stern, the most secure place in case of disaster, is the ladies’ cabin. Some of the boats have a third story, but most are satisfied with the arrangement described above. The station for the helmsman is placed high up between the two chimneys, covered over and glazed, so that he can look out in all directions. The tiller ropes have lately been made of wire, so that in case of fire, the vessel might remain under command of the helm till the last moment.

We had a great number of passengers, amongst them a young woman of about two or three and twenty, who came on board a little below Natchez with a very young man. The young people seemed to have been only lately married, to judge by their hugging and kissing. When we arrived at Louisville, in Kentucky, the steamer had to discharge cargo, and remained the greater part of the day. I was standing on the bowsprit watching the proceedings, when an elderly gentleman very well dressed, accosted me, and, describing the couple, inquired if they were on board. I replied in the affirmative, and accompanied him to the lower cabin. The lady was sitting on a trunk and reading; her companion had gone into the town. I suspected that all was not right, and that the old gentleman had good reasons for coming; but the quiet unconcerned manner of both parties soon did away with my suspicions. In the first moment indeed her color seemed to change slightly, but she rose quietly, laid aside her book, and offering her hand to the gentleman, said, civilly, “How do you do, sir?” After a short time they retired into a corner, and spoke very earnestly together. Meantime, I took no more notice of them, but at bedtime I was not a little astonished to see the old gentleman take the husband’s place, while the young man, as pale as death, stood by the stove heedless of its burning the tails of his coat. The lady was the wife of the gentleman who came on board at Louisville, and had run away with the young man. The husband had obtained information, and followed them, but would hardly have overtaken them, if the vessel had not stopped to discharge cargo. The cool self-possession exhibited by both parties, in order to avoid observation, was really astonishing; on his part, in not giving way to his just displeasure, but remaining composed and serious; on her part, in allowing no shock or trace of alarm to be visible, which would have been so natural, when her deeply injured husband, whom she supposed to be 1,400 miles distant, stood suddenly before her. They all three left the boat next morning.

On the 20th of February I arrived again at Cincinnati, and was kindly received by all my old acquaintances after my long absence and adventures.

Cincinnati, the queen of the West, the El Dorado of the German emigrant! Ask a German, who is travelling into the interior from one of the seaports, Where are you going? and the answer will invariably be—to Cincinnati. And what will he find there? On my arrival every house was full of people looking out for work, and who would willingly have taken any wages that were offered them, though only enough to keep body and soul together. Among others, I met with a man who had written to his brother to come over to him, as this was the land where roasted pigeons flew into men’s mouths. And as a proof of it, he referred to himself: a few years ago he had emigrated without a farthing, and now kept an hotel and coffee-house. In point of fact, it was true; he had indeed, an hotel and coffee-house; but what does that mean in America? Every hovel with one room large enough for five or six double beds, where a dozen people are fed three times a day for from two-and-a-quarter to two-and-a-half dollars a week each, is called an hotel. Coffee-house is a name for any place where two or three bottles are stuck in the window, while the name of the owner is proudly painted over the door as coffee-house keeper. The poor German, deceived by these exalted titles, came over to his brother, and found him, in spite of hotel and coffee-house, in a miserable condition, and hardly able to maintain himself. Several similar cases occurred during the time of my residence.

There are a great number of Germans in Cincinnati, particularly in the upper town across the canal, which, on that account, is often called Little Germany by the Americans. Unfortunately, my beloved countrymen are not celebrated for cleanliness and good conduct, and the degree of estimation in which they are everywhere held does not at all accord with the accounts I had read in a number of works on America concerning the way in which they were treated there; and although the well-behaved are respected there as elsewhere, yet it is painful to hear the word Dutchman, as the Americans always call us, used as a term of reproach, even when you yourself are excepted. Everywhere in America, and particularly in Cincinnati, there are people who, having gained a few dollars, look down with contempt on their poorer countrymen, and even join the Americans in abusing them, showing how little they care about the esteem in which the German is held; these, however, were exceptions, and I was heartily ashamed of them.

Although the situation of Cincinnati is very healthy, yet it abounds in doctors and apothecaries. Numbers of the former are Germans; how they all manage to live is quite a mystery.

I was much amused with some of the religious absurdities which are carried on at Cincinnati, and in which my countrymen also distinguish themselves. The Methodists, under the guidance of a Pennsylvanian of the name of N——h, carry these practices to the greatest excess; on every Sunday evening they meet to howl, and jump, and beat their breasts, and then pronounce themselves perfectly happy.

This party supports a paper called the “Christian Apology.” Its bitterest opponent is the Roman Catholic “Friend of Truth,” which only discontinues its thunder against the heretical folly of the “Christian Apology” when it hurls a whole volley of abuse and execration against the “Friend of Light,” which advocates rational religion, and holds up the two others to ridicule.

During my present residence, I heard that a German girl was lying sick, and said to be possessed of a devil, in “Little Germany.” At first I would not believe that any thing of the sort could occur in the present day;—but a young Oldenburgher, with whom I had become acquainted, assured me by all that was holy, that it was so, that he had seen it, and that having expressed his opinion rather too freely, the bigoted people, Roman Catholic Alsatians, fell upon him, and drove him out of the house.

I decided on witnessing the proceedings, and, in company with a friend, set off one evening to the house in Little Germany. We had no difficulty in finding our way to the “sick maiden,” for the whole of that part of the town was full of the extraordinary circumstance, as they called it. It was dark when we entered a little room in a frame house: a lamp on the chimney-piece was nearly burnt out, the space was almost filled by about thirty people all on their knees in silent prayer; not a word was spoken: the lamp flickered, flashed up again, and went out. It remained perfectly dark, and nothing was audible but the breathing of those who were repeating their prayers; then a low murmuring, rustling sound struck the ear, and for some time I did not know what to make of it. Suddenly a door opened, light streamed into the room, and with it the murmurs of numerous voices. People came through the doorway, and those who had been praying on their knees rose up, and moved towards the light: we followed the stream. An extraordinary sight presented itself: we entered a tolerably sized room, oppressively hot, and full of people on their knees, both men and women. It was lighted by two candles on a table, at which three men were seated, with open books, reading aloud the Roman Catholic prayer, “Blessed art thou, Maria,” which all the people repeated after them; when it was ended, they began again.

Although it was only May, the heat was so great from the number of people that I felt half-boiled; but it seemed much warmer to the poor creature, who was being made a sacrifice to the demon of absurdity. She was lying in a wide bed in the corner opposite to the table, and was said to be seventeen years old; I should have guessed her nearer thirty-seven. She appeared to be very weak and ailing, and no wonder, considering that the praying went on night and day without intermission: her mother leant over her, wiping away from her brow the perspiration arising from the heat of the room.

It may have been about seven o’clock when we entered this sepulchre of reason and common sense, and it was ten before we succeeded in making our way out; and the whole time was occupied with a monotonous repetition of the same prayer, offered up, as a little Alsatian lightly whispered to me, “To drive out the devil in order that she may recover.” The devil in question must certainly have been one of the most obstinate that ever existed, for had I been in his place, such proceedings would have driven me out long ago. It was a real luxury to inhale the pure night air, after escaping from such a pestilential hole. I have never heard since what became of the poor woman.

As I learned, after a long stay in Cincinnati, that I had been deceived by those I had trusted in New York, and that not only all my money but my clothes also were gone, there was nothing left for it but to endeavor to get work. I had already made a few voyages as sailor and stoker on board a steamer, which affected my health, and laid me up for several weeks. Besides, human life did not seem to be particularly safe on board American steamers, especially on the western waters, disasters frequently happening through the rashness and carelessness of the officers in charge; for example, while I was in one of them, the “Moselle,” a very fast boat, was blown up near Cincinnati, through the obstinacy of the captain in racing with another boat, and stopping the safety-valve, by which 130 persons, whose names were on the passengers’ list, lost their lives, besides a number of steerage passengers, whose names are not inscribed. Thirty carts were employed in carrying their mutilated remains to the burial-places; for weeks afterwards, bodies were frequently washed on shore. The force of the steam was so great, that one man was thrown over to the Kentucky shore, and another came down, head foremost, through a shingle roof.

In preference to such a life, I sought for work in Cincinnati, and obtained it at a silversmith’s. Though at first without any knowledge of the business, I soon acquired it, and was treated by the master and his family, good kind Americans, as if I had been one of their own relations. This was the quietest time of my existence. I worked hard and lived moderately. But this sort of life did not suit me; I longed for the free woods and nature, and was only detained by the hopes of acquiring a sufficiency, and then buying a portion of land and settling, together with the fulfilment of other long-cherished plans. But plans they remained, and in May I cast off my self-imposed yoke; having exchanged my shot gun for a double-barrelled rifle, got all my shooting gear in order, packed up a zither, which I had bought and learnt to play in Cincinnati, I bade a hearty farewell to all the kind friends I had made, and set off again with a young German, named Uhl, by the steamer “Commerce,” to seek fresh adventures and encounter new dangers.

The steamer foamed and hissed through the waves, which rose high upon her bows, the land receding on both sides, as if impelled by a magician’s wand. I felt as if new born, and flying to some strange, wild land. At first starting, the ideas awakened by the passing scenes were rather confused, but, as we rushed on, they became clearer, and at last I might have nodded to each gigantic tree that adorned the beautiful banks of the Ohio, and asked if it did not remember me.

My companion, a young Berliner, with whom I had become acquainted and struck up a friendship in Cincinnati, and who was as fond of field sports as myself, did not participate in my feelings, but sat himself down comfortably with no trifling appetite to a symposium, which he had provided for himself, in the shape of a smoked tongue, with bread and whiskey. We had not proceeded far when it grew dark; and, fatigued with all the labors and excitement of the day, I was soon ensconced on my soft, warm buffalo skin.

On the 17th May, 1839, we entered the Mississippi, whom I saluted as an old, long lost, and long wished-for friend; a change in the color shows where the Ohio joins the “Father of Waters,” for the first is clear and bright, while the latter is dull and muddy. They run together for some distance, quite distinct, the Mississippi becoming more and more intrusive, the other shyly withdrawing, as if vexed that its clear waves should be contaminated by all the dirt which its companion derives from the Missouri.

On the 18th, at five in the afternoon, the “Commerce” stopped at Memphis, in Tennessee. We immediately crossed to the opposite side, and sprang joyfully ashore in the long-desired Arkansas. We greatly enjoyed the mild balsamic air that blew towards us from the green forest, after our four days’ voyage, and we should have enjoyed it still more but for the load we had to carry. Besides my game-bag, which was filled with all possible sorts of things, I had a large buffalo skin, and Uhl a heavy blanket, with our store of powder and ball. But we were fresh and in good condition, and resolved, although it was already dusk, to commence our march the same evening, taking advantage of the cool night air, the mid-day sun of Arkansas being rather too kindly disposed. We walked on for about five miles in the brightest moonlight, and then lay down to repose, but were obliged to get up again and make a fire, on account of the mosquitoes, which were very troublesome.

The next morning found us cheerful and refreshed, and, as hungry as lions, we started off, in the hope of making a prize of a deer; but a farmer told us that this was not the right season for them, and we were glad to enter a house and satiate our appetites with bacon and maize bread. The information we obtained about the game was not very encouraging; they all seek shelter in the thickest coppices, or among the reeds to avoid the flies and mosquitoes, which persecute the poor creatures incessantly; but we could not now change our plans, so marched steadfastly on. The farmers were quite right; we did not see any deer, or any traces of them; a poor partridge, perched on a tree, as is customary with the American partridges, and looking at us with inquiring eyes, was our only sport.

In the afternoon the sky became covered with dark clouds, to our great delight, because it made the air so much cooler. In the evening we saw the first turkey. He was crossing our path, and stood still when he saw us: Uhl fired and missed; so our turkey made his bow and departed.

Heavy rain came on with the night, and we were very glad to find an old deserted house, where at least we could keep ourselves dry. We made a glorious fire, and the rain holding up for a short time, we washed our clothes, which soon dried by the blaze we had made. We then broiled the partridge in the iron spoon that we carried with us for melting lead, sprinkled it with powder for want of salt, and discussed it under the mournful feeling of “only one bird for two men.”

The next morning brought with it better weather, and an excessively bad road, the rain having all but destroyed it; a few miles from our night’s quarters we came to a house, in which we could at least satisfy our hunger. As the roads were so bad, we decided on leaving our heavy articles here for a time while we went in search of game. But game seemed to have vanished entirely; we traversed the forest in all directions in vain: we only saw a few turkeys, and these were too shy to let us come within shot. We took up stations to watch for them in the night, but without seeing any thing, and returned disappointed and tired to the house.

Greater misfortune awaited me next day. Continuing our route, we came on the fresh trail of a bear, and eagerly followed it, but the wood was so thick and our packs so inconvenient that we were obliged to give it up. On returning to the path, I was in the act of springing over a pool, when my foot catching in one of the numerous creepers that cover the ground, I was thrown, and broke the stock of my rifle, besides cutting my under lip and loosening some of my teeth: I secured my rifle as well as I could with my pocket handkerchief, and went on vexed and out of tune.

About ten o’clock in the morning, the sun began to dart his hot rays upon us rather more fiercely than we thought agreeable; we resolved to enter the first house we came to, till the great heat of the day was passed. It happened to be inhabited by an elderly widow and her sons; while we were conversing together I observed one of the boys fishing in a little flowing stream, pulling up prizes as fast as he could. The lucky fisherman excited my curiosity; I went to see what he was catching, and could hardly believe my eyes when I found that they were crawfish. So long was it since I had tasted them, that they made my mouth water; I soon got my fish-hook to work, and in the course of half an hour Uhl and I with two of the boys had caught half a pailful. The old lady looked at us with astonishment as we seized a saucepan, put in the crawfish with a little salt, filled it up with water, and set it on the fire; they had always thought them only fit for bait. The crawfish soon began to show their red noses, and, when done, we set to work on them. The meal itself was no slight treat, but our enjoyment was much heightened by watching the countenances of the Americans, expressive half of merriment, half of disgust, for they had never dreamt that people could eat such nasty animals with such a zest.

When the trees made long shadows we took a friendly leave of these kind folks, and set off towards the west. About ten o’clock we came to Blackfish lake, which we had to cross. There was a house on the bank, where the ferryman lived; but everybody seemed fast asleep—so we lighted our fire close to the lake, and, covering ourselves well in our buffalo skin and blanket, we slept soundly till the morning in spite of the mosquitoes who were humming furiously above us.

On the 22nd May we were stirring at daybreak; and who would not have been so, after sleeping in the open air in a southern climate, surrounded by mosquitoes, which by the first glimmer of light collect all their forces to attack more ferociously than ever? We roused the ferryman, who told us of an unexpected swamp, which it would be impossible for us to get through with such a weight of baggage. I had heard the word impossible too often, to have much respect for it, it being frequently applied to things that afterwards were proved to be very possible; however, a swamp ten miles long did not sound pleasant. We had to beg hard and pay high for a morsel of bread to quiet our appetite, the man declaring that he had nothing else for himself.

Blackfish lake is a desolate, melancholy-looking, coffee-colored piece of water, several miles long, and some hundreds of yards wide, and its gloom is increased by overhanging cypresses. It is said to be full of snakes and other reptiles. Arrived on the opposite side, we had not to look out long for the swamp. It was straight before our eyes. In point of fact, the whole land we had passed through was very like a swamp, but hitherto there had been a broad chaussÉe, running in a direct line through the State of Arkansas, from east to west, from Memphis, in Tennessee, to Batesville; but on the west bank of Blackfish lake it was not yet cut through the forest, nor raised above the swamp. We were now to enter the recesses of the primeval forest. And what a forest! and what a journey! A load of from sixty to seventy pounds on our shoulders, soft mud under our feet, the heat of the sun increasing, the swamp giving out a hot suffocating air! Such was our enviable position. We had hardly worked our way for a quarter of a mile through mud and thorns, when we were obliged to sit down and rest; but rest was also a torment; there was not a breath of wind to refresh us, and the moment we stopped millions of mosquitoes attacked us. The water was lukewarm, and we had to suck it up from pools covered with slime. If we left the regular path, which was the most muddy, and tried a short cut through the wood, we were caught at every step by the thorns and creepers, which in many places were impenetrable. In spite of all, we were not discouraged, but went on as well as we could, floundering and resting alternately. After a time, while taking a short repose, we heard the strokes of an axe—a heavenly sound to our ears. We laid aside our burdens, and Uhl followed the direction of the sound, to discover what unfortunate child of man was thinking of settling in such a swamp. He soon came back, and called to me to take up the packages and come along, for he had found some charming people; and we both worked our way through the almost impervious thicket to these strangers.

They were a family from Tennessee, who had halted to dine. The group consisted of the father, a large, strong built man, upon whom time was just beginning to set his wrinkles, his wife, also formed on a large scale, two sons, of fifteen and ten, and three daughters, from twelve to seven. A horse and pair of oxen were feeding quietly near them, and two large dogs were hid under the two carts, one of which was for baggage, the other, rather lighter, for the wife and children. The dogs, anxiously looking out for their food, advanced as near as their ropes would allow to the table-cloth, which was spread out on a dry place. Maize-bread and butter, pork, cheese, and coffee were the ingredients of the meal; and, after a kindly greeting, and a hearty invitation from the seniors, we were soon all in our places, in Turkish attitudes, round the table-cloth. The children had kindled fires all round us, laying on rotten wood, there being no scarcity of it, so that we were sheltered by a thick smoke, which these tormenting demons cannot bear. Thus we were left in tolerable repose.

Uhl and I did not disgrace our German lineage in regard to the provisions, and after the greater part of them had disappeared, we set off again on our journey, taking a cordial farewell of our hospitable friends; and footmarks, of from eighteen inches to two feet deep impressed in the soft mud, and rapidly filling with water, soon showed that two pair of German boots had passed that way. At length, when the sun had descended below the tops of the trees, and was glowing like a fiery red ball above the horizon, after the greatest exertions, we approached the termination of our amphibious walk. The forest opened a little, and we caught sight of a block-house standing on dry ground. We decided on making a short stay here at all events, to recover from our fatigue, and to clean and wash our clothes.

On the next morning I awoke with an excessive itching in my face and right shoulder, and found, to my no slight astonishment, that both parts were much swelled, and covered with small blisters. An American, who dwelt a few hundred paces from the house, and who probably came to see us and pick up any news, soon cleared up the mystery. A great many of the creepers and shrubs in the swamps have a milk-white sap, which is poisonous, and it is likely that I may have broken some of them, and my face and shoulder may have been smeared with this sap. Wet and cold applications are considered the best cure. I accordingly surrendered myself to such treatment, first rubbing my face well with pork fat, as an antidote to the poison. I must have cut a pretty figure with my swollen, blistered, shining face. Uhl nearly killed himself with laughing at me.

In the evening, some mule drivers from Texas came in, having pitched their camp not far from the house. They consisted of three whites, and two Cherokees. One of the Indians spoke English very well, and I had a long conversation with him. He had adopted all the habits of the whites, although he did not seem to have much love for them. I went to bed late, and dreamed of Indians and buffalo hunts.

All next day I was obliged to remain quiet, on account of my swelled face, and was rewarded for my patience by being nearly well by the evening. As the baggage we had hitherto carried was too heavy, we resolved to leave some of it with these people till we saw what was likely to become of us. We had neither of us any settled plan. Our mutual wish had only been freedom and the forest, rightly conjecturing that all the rest would come of itself.

As on the second day we continued our journey a great deal lighter, and with renewed strength. After several miles walk we came to a smithy, where, luckily, I could get my gun repaired, otherwise I should not have been able to shoot. This smithy was at a Mr. Strong’s plantation, where the road branches off to Little Rock, and to Batesville. We were undecided which to take, when we were told that we should find much more game on the road to Batesville. This settled the point. We waited till the cool of the evening to resume our march. While the smith was repairing my gun, the Tennessee man, with his family, arrived from the marsh. He had been three days and three nights coming the ten miles, and even now it is a riddle to me how he managed it.

On the evening of the 26th of May, after a rich feast on the quantities of blackberries which grew by the way, we came to a house belonging to a man of the name of Saint, and decided on staying there to sleep; we found a better set of people than we had expected, and engaged in a long conversation with our host. After supper, to our no small horror we learnt that unless we could swim twenty-eight miles, further progress was not to be thought of, as the whole swamp between this and White river was under water. Uhl and I looked at each other, with long faces, as much as to say, “quid faciamus nos;” but Saint was good enough to invite us to stay with him till the swamp had somewhat dried up, which at least would be about the middle of July; meantime we could go out shooting, and the game we brought home would well repay him for all our expenses.

This, of course, was grist to our mill, and we soon made ourselves at home. On the following morning, almost before we were settled, we went to the forest with our host, a keen sportsman, to look for bears, taking seven dogs with us. And what a country he took us to! Swamps and thorns, creepers, wild vines, fallen trees, half or entirely rotted, deep and muddy water-courses, bushes so thick that you could hardly stick a knife into them, and, to complete the enjoyment, clouds of mosquitoes and gnats, not to mention snakes lying about on the edges of the water-courses; such is the aboriginal American forest, and in such a scene we commenced our sport.

After an hour or two, the dogs started a young bear, and followed him in full cry, but had not gone far when they were stopped by the river l’Anguille, or, as they call it here, the Langee; neither coaxing nor threats could induce them to take to the water, and Saint thought that if one of us swam over, the dogs would follow, and that we should find the trail again on the other side. Saint could not swim, Uhl would not: so I threw off my clothes, and plunged in. The river, which in summer is very shallow, and hardly seems to flow, was now much swollen, and had overflowed its banks. As soon as I had swam some distance, Saint began to cheer on the dogs, and I soon heard them spring into the water, one after the other, and follow me. I was swimming slowly with long strokes, and had reached about the middle of the river, when I heard two of the dogs close behind me, while Saint was still cheering them on from the bank, as if to attack a bear. The two near me were barking furiously, and the thought flashed upon me: suppose they were to seize me? If only one had attacked me, all the rest would have joined, and as they were strangers to me, if they had fallen upon me I should have had no chance: so I began to strike out as hard and as fast as I could to reach the shore. Exerting myself for my life, I came nearer and nearer the bank, but the excited dogs swam faster still, and I heard the snorting of one of them close to me when I felt the ground: in an instant I and the dogs were both on shore. The danger was over now, and they began to hunt; but either the bear had followed the stream, and landed lower down, or the ground was too wet for the scent; in short, we could not find the trail. We tried our luck at another place, with no more success, and returned home towards evening quite tired and out of spirits.

Our hosts to all appearance were very religious people, and we had prayers every evening. This evening we went early to bed, being all very tired, so that, as yet, I hardly had time to take much notice of the people we were to live with. We had to be awakened for breakfast; afterwards we strolled about the house and fields to realize our situation. Saint was a man of about forty, with a bright clear eye, and open brow; you were captivated by him at the very first sight. His wife, an Irishwoman, treated us very civilly and kindly, and proved to be an excellent manager. They had no children; but there was another person in the house, who demands a more particular description. This was a duodecimo Irish shoemaker, or, as he always insisted—schoolmaster, for such, by his own account, was his former occupation, though now he made shoes. Saint had bought a quantity of leather, and the little Irishman was to work it up, receiving a certain monthly sum. He had red hair, was pock-marked, stood about five feet, but was stout and strongly built, and may have been about fifty years old. He spoke unwillingly about his age, wishing to pass for much younger. Saint, who loved to joke with him, told us, with a smile, that on Sunday we should see him in his best, when he would go to pay his court to a young widow in the neighborhood.

The house was built of logs, roughly cut. It consisted of two ordinary houses, under one roof, with a passage between them open to north and south, a nice cool place to eat or sleep in during summer. Like all block-houses of this sort, it was roofed with rough four-feet planks; there were no windows, but in each house a good fireplace of clay. A field of about five acres was in front of the house, planted with Indian corn, excepting a small portion which was planted with wheat. Southwest from the house stood the stable, which S. was obliged to build, because he gave “good accommodation to man and horse;” otherwise it is not much the custom in Arkansas to trouble one’s self about stables. A place, called a “lot,” with a high fence, is used for the horses, hollowed trees serving for mangers. Near at hand was a smaller log-house for the store of Indian corn, and a couple of hundred paces further was a mill which S. had built to grind such corn as he wanted for his own use, and which was worked by one horse.

About a quarter of a mile from the house, through the wood, there was another field of about five acres, also sown with maize. The river l’Anguille flowed close in the rear of the house; another small building at the back of the dwelling was used as a smoking house; near it was a well about thirty-two feet deep.

We went out shooting and wandering through the woods all day long, though with little sport. Uhl had had better luck than I, so being firmly resolved to bring home something, I had been straying in the forest from daybreak, when at last I saw a deer. Firing too eagerly I took bad aim, and he fled with long bounds to the thicket; but red marks on the leaves showed that he was hit. I followed the trail;—but without a dog it was slow work, and then the increasing darkness convinced me of the impossibility of finding either the deer or the way back to the house, being as yet too unacquainted with the country to be able to find my way by the stars.

I was soon comfortably stretched by a blazing fire, and should have done very well, but for the stomach, that constant tormentor, who kept reminding me that he had had no work to do since the morning, except to consume a few insignificant green sassafras leaves. The night was beautiful, the stars shining brilliantly, and the weather fortunately too cool for mosquitoes. I soon slept quietly and comfortably till about midnight, when I was awakened by the disagreeable howling of the wolves; it seemed as if they had all assembled to give me a serenade; if so, the poor beasts had a very ungrateful audience. During the interval, the sharp roar of a panther was heard rather too close to my lair. Such a neighbor was by no means desirable or trustworthy; so I fired in the direction whence I heard the sound, and he flew back again to the jungle. I now made up my fire afresh, and was soon asleep for the second time.

When I awoke the sun was peeping through the branches. Shaking my limbs, which were stiff with cold, I commenced my journey homewards, endeavoring to shorten the way by thoughts of a good warm breakfast.

S. had for some days talked of cutting down a tree, in which he had discovered a swarm of wild bees, but something had always happened to hinder it; however, on the first of June we set off at daybreak on our long talked of excursion, the party being increased by S.’s brother-in-law. The two Americans took axes, while Uhl and I carried pails to hold the honey we expected to find. We proceeded to a little prairie about three miles off, and soon found the tree, which S. had discovered and marked. It is a backwoods custom, when any one finds a tree with wild bees, and has not time or inclination to cut it down at once, to cut his name, or if he cannot write, as was the case with S., to make his mark on it, and if any one else finds the tree and sees the mark, he goes on his way, leaving it to the first finder.

S.’s tree was a decayed red oak, on the verge of the little prairie. The two axes, wielded by powerful and skilful arms, soon made the old tree totter, and then fall with a crash. In the mean time I had lighted a fire by S.’s directions, laid it on a piece of bark, and covered it with rotten wood, so that it gave out a thick black smoke. As soon as the tree was down, I held this under the opening where the bees went in and out: stupefied by the smoke, they flew high into the air, never attempting to sting, though several flew about me, and lighted on my clothes. Our trouble did not go unrewarded; we found a pretty thick bough full of honey, of which we ate as much as we wished, carrying home the rest.

S. seemed to be pleased with us, for he asked us to remain with him to look after his cattle, of which he had about two hundred head running loose in the woods; we might take our rifles and shoot at the same time. As this seemed to suit our plans, we took the subject into serious consideration, and on Monday, June 3rd, made the following compact. We agreed to undertake the charge of S.’s cattle, to give them salt in the little prairie from time to time, where a tent was to be pitched for us, and whither we were frequently to drive them, to accustom them to it. We were to receive one-third of the produce, namely: every third calf, as our property. S. bound himself to provide us with pork, flour, coffee, sugar, and salt; also, as soon as he had time, to build a small house for us in place of the tent. So far so good; but the final clause was a jewel, and the Irish schoolmaster who drew up the bond was not a little vain of his performance. It stated: “Neither of the undersigned parties is bound by this contract, if any one of them should think that he could do better elsewhere.” The important document was signed by both parties, S. making a cross, and then it was carefully secured in S.’s strong box, the Irishman putting the copy in his pocket, probably to show the widow this specimen of his abilities. We shouldered our rifles, and trotted off to reconnoitre our new province.

Uhl and I having separated, I shot a young deer, but as it was too heavy to carry, I let it lie, and took a direct line towards home, marking the trees with my tomahawk as I went along. Suddenly a hen turkey flew up; before I could fire she was lost in the bushes, but right under my feet lay nine beautiful eggs, in a nest made of dry grass. I sat down to await the return of the hen, but as she did not choose to make her appearance, I took up the eggs and carried them home, intending to rear them; then I went with a horse to pick up my deer.

Having signed the agreement with S., and decided on remaining here some time, it was necessary to fetch our things, which we had left at Blackfish lake, and S. kindly offered us one of his horses for the purpose; but the horses were running wild in the woods, and had to be caught. Uhl and I set off to catch one, taking different directions; we searched the whole day without seeing a single trail, and our endeavors on the following day were just as unfortunate. At first we hunted together, but afterwards again separated. I went pacing along one of the paths that cross the wood in all directions, but soon found that it was only a deer or cow path; I left it, and pushed on in a straight direction, careless as to the line of country, so that I could only fall in with a horse; and as to the night, sleeping under the green trees was more agreeable than in a close room. The idea that I might lose myself never occurred to me. At length, however, as I advanced, the scenery assumed a different character to that in S.’s neighborhood. It was no longer marshy, but the ground was undulating, and I once more saw fir-trees, which I had lately so much longed for. Contrary to my expectations, I arrived at a farm before dark, but could obtain no information about the horses—no one had seen any—and on my asking how far I was from S.’s farm, I received the agreeable answer, “At least eleven miles;” rather too far for an evening’s walk—so the good folks kindly asked me to pass the night with them. I placed my gun and cap in a corner, and seated myself with them in the mild evening air; we struck up an agreeable conversation, and I fully expected a very pleasant evening; but a storm was brewing to disturb its serenity. We had not long been seated when a tall, ceremonious, respectable looking man, buttoned to the chin in a long brown coat, arrived. He saluted us rather solemnly, then seating himself at a short distance, took a little book from his pocket, turned over the leaves, and, before I suspected any thing, he thundered out a hymn with a voice that astounded me. Not being used to such a proceeding, I looked first at one then at the other for some explanation, but they kept their eyes fixed on the ground, looking very solemn all the time. The voice of the singer became louder and louder. The good man seemed to have lost the end of his song; night came on, and it was rather cold—still he kept on, until at last his voice failed, and he was obliged to stop. I thought this was all, but more people arrived, among them some very pretty young women, such as I never expected to see in the wilderness. The air being cool and damp, we entered the house, which was set out with benches, and looked like a school-room. The case was clear—I had stumbled on a Methodist meeting, and must take the consequences. The singing and praying lasted several hours, and I was heartily tired of it, as it did not agree with my habits and feelings.

With the first streaks of red I commenced my journey homewards, and arrived about noon, to find that Uhl, with more luck than myself, had already caught a horse.

On the 8th of June I rode off to Blackfish lake swamp, to bring away the things we had left at Hamilton’s. Just as I entered the house, Mrs. Hamilton had a robust little fellow in front of her, a stepson, I believe, about three or four years old, and told him to jump about the room for a piece of cake she held in her hand. He began to jump, and looked very comical as he bobbed up and down like a cork. When he thought he had earned his cake, he came to ask for it, but was put off with the word “more.” He quietly went back to his place, and recommenced his exercise, but had lost the cheerful expression of his countenance—he was doing it as a duty. After dancing for some time longer, he came again for his cake, in the firm belief that this time he was sure of it, but a “more yet” made him start. He begged, protested, cried—all in vain; “more yet,” said his inexorable tormentor, holding the cake up for him to jump at. Tears ran down the poor little fellow’s cheeks, and he jumped and jumped, and sobbed, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. It was impossible to keep one’s countenance any longer, and as I cried with laughing, he laughed through his tears. He then received the cake he had so well danced for, and jumped once more from free will, out of doors with it.

I packed all things on the horse, and set out on my return the same evening. On the following morning we began to build our house; we pulled down an old block-house, standing about three miles from the site we had chosen, and carted the logs to our prairie, where we could easily rebuild it. In the backwoods building is a very simple art. In the first place, small trees of oak, or some other good wood, are felled and cut to the requisite length. Next comes the foundation: two of the largest trunks are laid parallel to each other on the ground at the proper distance, two others are laid across their ends to form the square, and fitted into each other with notches, which makes the building all the firmer, and closes the crevices. In this way the walls are run up, but without any entrance. Ours being an old house rebuilt, the logs all fitted each other, and door and chimney were already cut, which, in other cases, has to be done with the axe after the walls are up. The roof is then laid, and, Swiss fashion, has to be secured with weights, to prevent its being blown away; but wood being more plentiful here than stone, heavy poles, called weight-poles, or young trees are used instead.

Although the heat was oppressive, our work went on rapidly, and we soon had the house up all but the chimney, which, it being summer, was not so necessary. Besides, dabbling with moist clay being dirty and disagreeable work, the chimney is generally left until it is too cold to do without it. June 10th, we began our fence, so that the cattle might not walk into the house, and also to secure the calves, that the cows might come to be milked.

The fences are formed of split logs of black or red oak, or hickory, ten or eleven feet long, and four or five inches thick, these woods splitting easily; the fences are laid zigzag, and carried to a height that no horse, much less a cow, can jump over. This was hard work, and the heat oppressive; I felt very feverish, and had a severe headache, but as the work could not go on without me, I would not hang back. On a sudden every thing began to dance before my eyes, then all was dark, and I fell fainting to the ground. I soon recovered, and lay for a short time in the shade of a tree, then continued my work till evening. Next day S. wanted to get in his wheat, and as I felt quite well again, we went to help him; I had hardly been half an hour at work, when, in spite of the burning heat, I felt a peculiar shivering and severe headache, while my lips and nails turned blue; in short, there was no doubt I had the ague. I went immediately to bed, and by noon was somewhat better. S. would not allow me to return to our hut, but insisted on my staying with them till my recovery, that I might always receive assistance. The fits returned on the second and third days, making me feel very weak and weary.

On the third day, a Saturday, at about two in the afternoon, I felt better, and went to the mill, where S. was at work, meaning to help him and take a little exercise, when I saw two strangers, a man and a woman, riding along the road. With horror, I recognized in the countenance of the man the Methodist preacher who had so tormented me some days before. It was not without reason that I dreaded a repetition of the scene. He rode past me with an important and expressive countenance, which seemed to say: “Here I am again you see, make yourself happy.” Uhl, to whom I had given a description of the former meeting, tried to slip off with me to the hut, but we were discovered, and invited to attend. The difference between this and the former meeting was that we had a sermon, in the course of which two women in succession jumped about in a pitiable state of excitement.

About noon next day, the dogs ran round and round the field, always stopping at one particular place. S. said there must be a fox there. I hastened to get a shot at him, but without success, till suddenly, by the barking of the dogs, I knew that Reynard must have come to a stop, and supposed him to have run to earth; but what was my surprise on finding him perched on a tree, from which he was seriously contemplating the furious dogs beneath him! I was so astonished that at first I did not fire. When I did so, he remained hanging between the two branches where he had squeezed himself, which was all the better for his skin, as the dogs would have spoiled it. I afterwards learnt that the foxes here always climb a tree, when driven to the last, but they can only manage it with small trees, nor can they get higher than ten or twelve feet; in the swamps they generally live in the hollows of trees.

On returning to the house I found the little schoolmaster in the height of his glory. He was dressed all in white;—white trousers, a snow white shirt and jacket, white neckcloth, a light-colored, almost white, straw hat, and light tanned shoes, also almost white. To all this garb of innocence, the red hair, red face, redder nose, and bluish red hands, offered a striking contrast; he seemed to be well satisfied with himself, stepped carefully over the fence, and was soon lost, like a sunbeam, in a dark forest.

On the 20th June we finished our fence. On the 21st we began the floor of our house, and on the 22nd the grand work was all complete. In the afternoon we went to S.’s to fetch our things, and towards evening, as it was very warm, I plunged into the cool stream flowing past the back of the house, and had to pay for it severely on the following day by a return of ague. Perhaps a rather too copious indulgence in blackberries, which abounded here, may have somewhat contributed to this result. Be the cause what it may, the attacks were repeated, and so severely that I was confined to the house, when S., his brother-in-law, and Uhl rode away for a buffalo hunt. I passed two tedious days in bed, but on the third, feeling better, I took my rifle, and lounged along the banks of the river, to try and pick up a couple of young wild ducks, which were just in season. In the course of half an hour I had killed three, and was on my way home, feeling much fatigued, when immediately before me, almost under my feet, I perceived a mocassin snake, ready to attack me, with its head drawn back, and its tongue darting out. These snakes are very venomous; so jumping back, by no means leisurely, I seized a long stick, and belabored him with it till he could do no harm. This deep moist ground is full of venomous snakes; but it is very rarely that any person is bitten, because they are shy, and always try to escape when any one approaches.

On my return I found a fresh bear’s trail very near the house. Bruin had crossed the river since I had passed, but the buffalo hunters had taken all the dogs; and I was too weak to follow him alone. They returned in the evening without having seen any buffaloes, though they had crossed their trail. Uhl had shot a deer or two, which was all their booty.

On the 2nd July we rode off to a farm belonging to a Mr. Dunn, about eleven miles off, to drive home some cattle that S. had bought. We did not arrive till dusk, and found Mr. Dunn at home; he was a fat man with a copper-colored nose, that seemed to do no dishonor to the sign before his door; and a bottle of whiskey soon glittered on the table. S. drank no spirits, so only just tasted it once: we did not follow his example, but drank and laughed and talked till late in the night.

I was much surprised next morning by the view from Dunn’s house. We were again amongst the hills, the house standing on the eastern spur, which stretches out towards the swamps like a peninsula. The thick white fog, through which not a tree was visible, north, south, or east, looked like the sea, and I was prompted to look out for a sail; the glowing red ball of the sun as he worked his way through it, cast a roseate hue over all. As the sun rose higher the fog began to disperse, and the tips of the highest trees appeared. As the fog vanished, it gave place to a boundless extent of green, unbroken by any rise, save that on which we stood. I remained for a long time in silent admiration of the fascinating sight.

After breakfast we collected our animals, and drove them towards home, through thorns, creepers, morasses, cane brakes, streams, and woods. Driving a number of cattle, which have never before been under the hand of man, is about as hard work as one can imagine, and a man who never swore in his life would be sure to learn it then. But cattle-driving was now our business, and we followed it up with a will. After immense difficulty, we succeeded in bringing them all within the fence in our prairie, secured them with the lasso, branded them with Saint’s mark, and left them to themselves till the morning. At dark we spread my buffalo skin on the ground, covered ourselves with Uhl’s blanket, and were soon fast asleep.

By this time we began to feel a little more comfortable, having made a couple of rough benches, and fixed some shelves to hold our things; but as our utensils were not very numerous, cooking was one of our chief difficulties. There was, however, no want of food, for Saint supplied so plentifully.

We kept in all the calves of the new herd, leaving the cows at liberty, as they never strayed very far from their young. We were also obliged to confine some of the wildest, but the rest soon accustomed themselves to the prairie, particularly as we sprinkled salt before them, of which they are passionately fond. Indeed we gave it to all the cattle every evening, which kept them from straying far away. In the daytime we ranged the woods with our rifles.

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