Wild Sports in the Far West

CHAPTER III.

About noon the steamer “North America” left for Cleveland, in Ohio State, and with it my worthy self. There was such a number of passengers in the steerage, that it was hardly possible to move, and the state of affairs was made worse by each of the American ladies[B] having a short pipe in her mouth. Yet worse was coming. Lake Erie, under the influence of a strong breeze, began to get very rough in its treatment of the boat; one pipe after another was extinguished, and the visages lengthened and whitened very suspiciously. I observed this change with horror, and took refuge in one of the uppermost of three rows of sleeping berths, to be out of range of shot.

It was dark when we arrived at Cleveland, and I stood on the shore in some difficulty, not knowing exactly where to look for shelter, when a young German, who, by the light of a lantern, recognized me by my costume for a fellow countryman, asked me if I would like to pass the night in a German house: on my quickly agreeing to it, he led me to one, some hundred yards off, where I soon went to bed. The beds in America are all double, that is to say, so wide as easily to hold three, and indeed I have sometimes made a fourth. I was shown into this abode of dreams by a little hump-backed youth, and on my asking if I could sleep alone there, he replied that perhaps some stranger might come by the stage-coach. Towards midnight I was disturbed by a noise, and thought to myself “Oh, oh, here comes the stranger;” and as I was not yet accustomed to this American fashion, I took the trouble to look up to see what my bedfellow was like, and had the felicity to see that a negro as black as pitch was preparing his ebony members to occupy part of my bed. I moved to the extreme edge, leaving at least two-thirds of the space to this son of the night. I was at this time but little acquainted with American habits, and if this had happened to me later, the landlord would not have had a whole bone in his skin; for it is the greatest insult to a white man in North America, and more particularly in the slave states, to place a negro on equal terms with him.

I was up before day, and, according to custom, went out to have a look at the town. From Cleveland I set off along the canal that goes to Portsmouth, on the river Ohio, intending to visit my fellow passenger by the “Constitution,” the apothecary Vogel, at the village of Canton. I shot several wild-fowl and a few hares as I went along, and found a bed at a New Englander’s, who gave me a hospitable reception. I was much amused by a little German maid, who had only lately left her home, and understood very little English, but as she spoke Low German, they managed to make out what each party wanted; they had a great regard for her, as she was very industrious.

It was the 17th of November when I arrived at the agreeable little town of Canton, situated in the middle of the forest. Some of the buildings were in very good taste. My friend was not here, and I learned that he lived in Cincinnati; so I decided on seeking him there, and, having nothing to detain me in Canton, I set off again the same evening.

Ohio is very extensively cultivated, and the journey through such a succession of fields was rather monotonous; there was a farm-house to be seen nearly every half hour, yet here and there was a pretty bit of forest, as I found rather too soon. About a hundred miles from Cincinnati I was overtaken one evening by a heavy penetrating rain, and was soon wet through and through. I was anxious to find shelter, and was travelling a well-frequented road, when all at once it divided into three; I chose the most beaten, and pushed on through mud and mire, till I came to a wood, where all further traces of a road vanished, leaving me cold and wet in the forest. A fire was out of the question. I was not inclined to return, as the other roads might also lead to the forest; so I made my way through the shrubs and bushes, which could not make me more wet than I was already. I sank down from fatigue at times, but, after a few moments’ rest, roused myself to fresh efforts. At length, like a port to a ship in a storm, I saw a light through the branches. I hastened, as fast as my tired legs would carry me, in that direction, and soon came to a fence, and shortly afterwards to a farm-house. The farmer looked at first rather shyly at the dripping wet traveller, who requested entrance so late in the night; but the customary hospitality did not let him hesitate long, and a warm fire, with a quickly prepared supper, considerably refreshed my stiff and weary limbs.

I arrived at Cincinnati, the largest town in Ohio, on the river of that name, on the 26th of November, without further adventures, and found my friend the apothecary quite well; the hearty pleasure he expressed on seeing me was ample reward for the trouble I had taken to find him, and I passed some happy days in his society. I was much pleased with the fine town of Cincinnati, the “Queen of the West,” as the Americans call it. It is the centre of commerce of the West, and owes its rapid rise and prosperity to its connection by steamers and railroads with the seaports on the east coast, by canal with Lake Erie and the St. Lawrence, and by the Ohio and Mississippi with New Orleans. From Cincinnati I made short shooting excursions into Kentucky, though with little success, obtaining at most a few hares, and some of the small American partridges, with now and then a wild duck.

On the 6th of December I bid adieu to the agreeable town of Cincinnati, and on the same evening arrived at the border of the State, formed by the little river Miami: I slept there, and crossed over into Indiana on the following morning. Two miles further I reached the little town of Lawrencebourg, on the Ohio, and inquired the nearest way to St. Louis; a question which no one could answer, as they said they never knew of any one travelling hundreds of miles on foot, when they could go so easily by the steamers. At last, with much trouble, I learnt something of the direction, and set off on the journey. I got a good dinner at a farmer’s in return for a hare I had shot, and passed the night in a solitary house with some very worthy people.

The 8th of December was a fine day for a walk, and the evening was mild and agreeable. I was walking on at a good pace, when a farmer told me as I passed his house that I should find a mill about six or seven miles further on, where I could pass the night; the sun was already low in the heavens. I was in the midst of a thick wood when it became dark, and no mill to be seen; after some time it was somewhat lighter, and I had no fear of losing my way; moreover, the temperature was very agreeable, and in case of necessity, I should not have minded camping out, or sleeping in the forest. At length I saw a light at some distance through the trees, and the hopes of a warm bed and cup of hot coffee produced a good effect upon my European system, as yet unweaned from these luxuries. As I advanced, the lights became brighter and more numerous, and I did not know what to think. Was it a town, or an Indian camp before me? To put an end to the uncertainty I hurried on, particularly as my right road lay in that direction, and soon I stood before a burning forest, blazing up gloriously in the dark night, making the background still darker, and giving a ghost-like appearance to the trees on the right and left. This new scene was too wonderful and imposing for me to hurry past it; so I sat down on one of the fallen scorched trunks to enjoy the awfully sublime prospect. I may have remained sitting looking on for about half an hour, when, about twenty paces from me, a blazing oak fell with a heavy hollow sound, sending glowing charcoal, burning branches, and thousands of sparks in all directions. This was rather too near to be pleasant, so I turned to seek another road through the forest, which appeared now so much darker than before, on account of the brilliant light I had just been gazing on.

There seemed to be no end to the forest, and I began to think that the mill existed only in the good farmer’s imagination, when I heard a sound of rushing water, and, later, the lowing of a cow. I turned off in the direction of the sound, first taking the precaution to light a fire, that I might retrace my steps in case I lost my way. About half a mile brought me within sight of a dwelling; on coming nearer I discovered a milldam, and several cows standing about the fence saluted the new comer with a long-drawn friendly low. I joyfully shook the dust from my feet, and knocked at the low door: all was as silent as the grave. I knocked again—nothing moved—no voice called a welcome “come in.” After knocking three times, I was accustomed to open the door; I pushed this open in rather ill-humor, and found—a deserted house, with all as still as death. The stars shone through a hole in the roof, the chimney had fallen in. It causes a shudder to see a place deserted that you expect to find occupied by an industrious family: I closed the door, and sprang over the fence, leaving the building to its mournful solitude.

The fire I had lighted was nearly burnt out, but I found it again, and followed hastily my former path. After about another hour’s walk, I heard the bark of a dog, and confiding with a joyful heart in this sure sign of an approach to a human habitation, I stepped out quickly to the long-sought mill. Dogs bayed, the wheel clattered, a bright light shone through all the crevices of the loghouse, and everything showed that I should soon find shelter for the night;—and in a few minutes I was comfortably seated in the chimney corner.

My host was a kindly, good-humored man, had lived some years in Indiana, and was in good circumstances. After a delicious supper, he led me out of the house, and said, “I will show you a little chap, such as you never saw before in your life.” He kept his word. Under an inverted tub was a gray animal, about the size of a cat, but thicker in the body, with short legs, head and muzzle like a fox, or rather, more like a colossal rat, with ugly finger-like claws, and a tail about a foot long, devoid of hair. These creatures are constantly on the look-out for fowls, and make great havoc amongst the farmers’ poultry. The Americans, and sometimes the immigrant Germans, eat the flesh and esteem it a delicacy. The miller made no ceremony with his prisoner, and, after killing it, he cut off its claws and tail, skinned it, washed it, and prepared it for cooking, telling me it would serve for a delicate breakfast; but I could not make up my mind to eat an animal looking so much like a rat.

It rained hard all night, giving me a sorry prospect for my next day’s journey; nevertheless, I rose early, and took leave of the miller on purpose to escape his “delicate breakfast.”

The ground was soft and slippery, and it was not without reason that I had feared the swelling of the mountain streams; yet, trusting in my fortune, I went on in good spirits. About ten o’clock it began to rain again pretty sharply, and about noon I came to a rapid, roaring mountain stream, which rushed towards the Ohio, carrying some large trees along with it. Here it was necessary to reflect on what was best to be done, for though I could have swum across, it would have been extremely disagreeable, as I had no change of clothing, and the water was considerably colder than the air. After wandering for some miles up and down the river in search of means to cross it, night came on, and I was obliged to camp in the wood. After kindling a good fire, I went to sleep, lulled by the sound of the water, but waking up now and then, thinking I might receive a visit from some wild beast.

On the following morning I was early on my legs, and examined the river. Like all these mountain streams, it had risen rapidly, and fallen as quickly, having considerably abated in the course of the night. I had already resolved on trying the passage, when I saw two horsemen coming down the hill towards me. My difficulties were now at an end; one of them took me up behind, and I was landed all dry on the other side.

I kept on along the somewhat inclined road, sometimes slipping, sometimes sinking deep in mud, abusing all American roads and American weather, when, not very far from the little town of Versailles, I saw a man with a rifle coming down the hill towards me. He did not seem to be keeping a very steady course, and when we came nearer, I saw clearly that I had not made a great mistake in supposing him to be very drunk. When he came up to me, he winked with his glassy eyes, and shook me heartily by the hand: so far so good: but when he caught sight of a bottle I had slung by my side, he made a sudden grasp at it; however, I was too quick for him, and, like a bear defending her cubs, I wrenched it out of his hand, and then, with the most imperturbable look in the world, I said “That is not for you,” and placed it in my pocket. He yielded to his fate; but, seeing my double-barrelled gun, he wanted to examine it closer, and to have a shot with it. By this time I had had enough of it, and would not trust him, so I turned on my heel and continued my journey. He called out “Stop!” I took no notice; again he called out, “Stop!” and I distinctly heard him cock his rifle. I turned instantly, taking my gun from my shoulder, but too late; his ball went whistling just over my head, and the echo repeated the sharp crack of his rifle. I now lost all patience, and snatching the whalebone ramrod out of my gun, I ran after him, caught him by the collar, pulled him down, and belabored him with the pliant ramrod, till only a few inches of it were left, he roaring “Mur—der!” “Mur—der!” all the while with might and main. I must acknowledge that I felt some satisfaction as I left him lying smarting in the mud.

Towards evening I passed through Versailles, where I procured a new ramrod. What a piece of irony to call such a place Versailles! but it is a custom of the Americans to give high-sounding names to their little settlements. Already in the State of New York, I had passed through Syracuse, Babylon, Rome, Venice, Alexandria, London, and Paris—villages of seven or eight houses.

I arrived about the 11th December at Friedmann’s farm. The proprietor was a German in good circumstances in Indiana: his property, though not large, was very productive, and his cattle were very fine. He was the only German settler whom I fell in with in my march through Indiana, although there are several in that state. The sound of my mother tongue fell doubly sweet on my ear after so long a privation. I remained to dinner, and then set off in good spirits, on a road which improved as I advanced, towards Vincennes on the Wabash.

Towards evening on the 12th, I came to a large, clean-looking house, and when I went in to ask if I could have a bed, I found two German Jews sitting comfortably by the fire, who looked at me with astonishment, and, as it seemed to me, with displeasure. The host was an elderly man, whose grandfather and grandmother had emigrated from Germany; he spoke very good German, and was uncommonly friendly, and we chatted away together the whole evening. The two Israelites had in the mean time been whispering a great deal together; at length one of them brought his chair nearer to mine, and began asking several questions, which I readily answered; amongst others, if I should start early in the morning, and which way I intended to go? why I carried a gun and hunting knife? &c. It struck me that they were not very courageous, and I resolved to have a joke with them: I first asked if they carried on a good business? what sort of wares they had in their two large packs; if they had any articles of gold? if they meant to leave early? which road they intended to take? if they would have far to go through the forest, before they came to another farm? The Jew anxiously parried all these questions, while his companion sat by without speaking a word; but when I asked if they had made much money, they both called out in a scream, “We have got no money at all;” so that I was obliged to bite my lip to prevent a burst of laughter.

I was disturbed several times in the night by the squabbling of the Israelites about the best place in their common bed. On waking up at early dawn I saw that the birds were flown. When I descended to my host, the two large packs and the two Jews had disappeared; on my inquiring after them, he told me that they had started before daylight with as little noise as possible. I laughed heartily, and told him the whole history, which tickled him amazingly.

The road from this house was at first pretty good, but it rained hard. When I came to the flat country in the neighborhood of Vincennes it was full of pools, and on arriving on the prairie, about a mile from that town, the whole space between it and me was one sheet of water. Night coming on, it would have been impossible for me to find my way but for occasional lights in the town, towards which I directed my steps, sometimes over my knees in water, and arrived about seven o’clock in Vincennes, which had not much to boast of as to dryness. The night was dark as pitch, as I groped my way along the unlighted streets in search of quarters. A pair of lonely oxen standing in the street looked at me pathetically, and lowed as I passed close by them. A short distance from them I found the house I wanted: it belonged to a Pennsylvanian German, who kept a tavern. I was soon in front of a warm refreshing fire, which, in my present condition, was what I stood most in need of. As soon as I was well warmed, I took a survey of the neighborhood. Around me was a set of regular conventional faces, with American indifference stamped on the countenances of all the company, who, having finished their meal, were sitting round the fire, rocking in their chairs, and picking their teeth. But amongst them I perceived fixed upon me the glances of a pair of real German looking eyes. I addressed their owner, and found that I had not been mistaken; he was a German smith and mason, and a very well educated man for his station. We sat talking together by the fire till late in the night. In the heat of conversation, he repeated some of his own poetry, which I listened to patiently, in return for his kind attempts to amuse me. He had been a long time in America, and had suffered much, without gaining much experience, being one of those good-natured souls, who are unwilling to take advantage of others, though often imposed upon themselves.

It rained in torrents during the night, but cleared up towards morning, and began to freeze. On going down to the river I met some horsemen, who had returned from the other side, and declared that it was not possible to proceed; for not only was the water very deep, but the ice on the surface was so thick, that it would have cut the horses in breaking through it. For a moment I was undecided: I could not stay in Vincennes, because my small supply of money would not admit of great outlay, and I had yet a considerable distance to travel. I went down to the ferry, but the ferrymen also strongly advised me to remain at Vincennes, as the road was quite impassable: however I was obstinate, and crossed the ferry.

The ground was dry close to the river, but I was stopped by the water further on. I persisted till noon, trying to find a passage, and upon a tolerably empty stomach, for I had eaten little more for the last twenty-four hours than a bit of bread and cheese. Yet I made no progress, so I resolved to dash at it, and wade through the water to some houses about two miles off, where the ferrymen had told me I should find dry ground. At first it was only up to my knees, and my water-proof boots kept me dry; but it soon became deeper and deeper. I was obliged to fasten my gamebag on my shoulder, and wade along, sometimes up to the waist, and sometimes up to the chest in the cold element, all the while having to break the ice in front of me with the butt of my gun. It took four hours to do the two miles, and only the conviction that I must either break through the ice or drown, gave me force to carry out my resolution. At length I reached a fence, and stepped on dry ground. I endeavored to climb over in vain; my lower garments and limbs were frozen too hard. I was obliged to pull down a part of it to make a passage, and it was not till I had been more than an hour by the fire that I was thawed enough to be able to move freely.

The continuation of the road was dry, with one short exception; and the next house that I came to was quite a harbor of refuge for this night, as I was much in need of rest and refreshment.

I now for the first time saw the wide prairies which extend through Illinois, and present a dismal prospect in this cold season. The long waving yellow grass gives a melancholy tint to the picture; the wide spread straw-colored surface, fringed by a forest in the distant horizon, depresses the spirits. The frost had set in again, so that at least I could follow my route with dry feet, and at a good pace. The first head of large game that I fell in with was a buck, making long jumps through the high grass, and putting up large flocks of prairie fowl, which flew to some distance before they settled. In the house where I passed the night, I gave my gun a thorough cleaning, and put it in good condition. On the following morning, about eight o’clock, I came to the Fox river, where I found two houses. To my astonishment, this also was a town, and called Waterton. A very pretty American woman, who kept a sort of tavern, set bread and milk with wild honey before me. She tried hard to persuade me to settle here, and, if possible, induce other Germans to do so; but my water excursion was still too fresh in my memory for me to take a fancy to the place, although it appeared to be a land of milk and honey, for enormous herds of cattle were pasturing in the prairies, and wild honey was very abundant.

I was so refreshed by my meal, that I went on my way with the springing step of a sedan-chairman. I had indulged in the agreeable idea of a dry road, but found myself wofully deceived, for as the little Wabash had overflowed its banks, I had about two miles to wade through water. The road lay along rather high ground, and was clear of ice, but there was plenty of it between the trees on the lower levels. As I approached the end of the watery path, and could see dry land in front of me, I heard something rustling through the water, and crashing the ice: I looked round, and beheld five deer coming towards me with long bounds. I stood quite still, awaiting their approach with a beating heart; a noble buck and four does were passing about fifty paces from me. I aimed at the leader; he made a spring into the air, and fell dead. I had some trouble to bring my buck to land; for although the American deer are smaller than the German red deer, yet the one I had shot weighed at least 140 pounds. I cut him up, skinned him, lopped a branch from a tree, made a bag of the skin with the hair outwards, put the two legs and back into it, then hanging the rest on a tree for any new comer, I trudged away with my burden for a couple of miles to the village of Maysville. Here I sold my prize, and passed the night, starting on the following morning across a twelve-mile prairie.

A cutting north-wester blew from the great lakes, so that my quickest pace hardly sufficed to keep me warm. After passing through a small wood, and surmounting a hill, I came to another little town, called Salem. On the 21st of December I had another prairie, twenty-two miles wide, before me: though still very cold, it was good walking over the hard frozen ground. In the evening I arrived at a farmhouse, where I passed the night. Just as I came to the house, the farmer was leading his horse by the bridle into the sitting-room, which I should have taken for the stable, had I not seen smoke issuing from the chimney. Full of curiosity, I followed my host into his little dwelling, and here the riddle was explained. He had been hauling wood, and he had fastened his horse to a log about eight feet long, to draw it into the house; then he rolled it to the fire-place, which took up nearly one whole side of the little block-house, and as he could not conveniently turn the horse on account of tables, chairs, and beds, he had made an opening on the side opposite the door, in order to lead him out again. I had shot several prairie birds in the course of the day, and they afforded us a delicate supper. They are very numerous in these wide plains, and I have seen flocks of from 600 to 700 of them. They are about the size of our domestic fowls, but with a longer neck, and have a tail like a partridge; their color is an ashy gray. I shot only one gray prairie wolf; they are much smaller than the black wolves, and very shy.

On the 23rd of December I arrived at Lebanon, a little hamlet on a hill about twenty miles from St. Louis. My thoughts turned involuntarily to the gigantic cedars; the highest tree on this mountain of Lebanon was the tavern sign-post. Next day I had a march of thirty-two miles: as the usually soft ground was now frozen hard, the route was very rough, and hurt my feet; yet I pushed on, and in the afternoon arrived in the valley of the Mississippi, or, as they call it opposite St. Louis, the “American bottom;” it is considered the most productive land in the United States. The vegetable mould must be from fifty to sixty feet deep; but it is low, and in consequence wet, and therefore unhealthy.

During my progress through Illinois I heard constant complaints of ague, particularly from the Germans; it is very prevalent all the summer, and even in winter they are not always free from it. The pale countenances of all, especially of the children, bore too strong evidence that the complaint was well founded.

At length, after sunset, I arrived on the eastern bank of the Mississippi, and heard to my great vexation that the river was so full of ice, that it was utterly impossible to get across. At any rate it was not to be thought of for this evening, so that I was obliged to pass another night in Illinois. Very tired with my long journey, I went early to bed. I was awakened in the night by a fresh arrival, who threw himself right upon me. I moved a little to one side, while he took up the middle of the bed; I should have had room enough if the stranger had not been very restless. Now as I did not like the idea of being disturbed all the rest of the night, it was necessary to obtain peace in some way or other; so, drawing myself up like a hedgehog, and planting my shoulder against his side, and my feet against the wall, before he could imagine what I was about, I sent him with a sudden jerk into the middle of the room, and then coolly told him the conditions on which I would let him come into bed again. As the night was too cold to admit of his sleeping on the floor, he agreed to all I required, and remained quiet for the rest of the night.

I was up early the next morning, and heard that a boat was about to try the passage. We started at nine o’clock, and were six in the boat—two at each oar, one in the bows to shove away the ice, and one half dead from fear. With indescribable trouble we succeeded in reaching the middle of the stream, where the ice had become fixed round a small island. If we had attempted to row round it we should have been carried down too far below the town, so we had to get out, and drag the boat over the rough blocks of ice, and launch her again on the other side; often we were jammed between immense masses, so that I thought every moment the boat must be crushed. About noon we gained the opposite shore, and landed immediately below St. Louis. The difference of time between Germany and St. Louis is about seven hours, so that while families at home were enjoying their Christmas festivities around the brilliantly lighted trees, I was toiling with difficulty through the waves and large masses of floating ice of the Mississippi. The church bells were ringing, as, on a bright clear day, I entered this city of a foreign land. I expected to find letters and money from New York, but to my no small astonishment I was disappointed. There was now no chance of any until I arrived at New Orleans; the question was, how was I to get there? I had not money enough to pay my passage by a steamer, and none of them would take me as one of the crew; so I resolved to trust to my legs again. The sale of some game had brought a few dollars, with which I paid my expenses here, and on the 31st December I set off again alone, with not very cheering prospects for the commencement of the new year. At night I lighted a fire, and laid myself under a tree, for I was not in a humor to seek society; it was past midnight before I fell asleep. Next morning’s sun brought fresh courage and fresh confidence. In going southwards from St. Louis, the traveller has no little trouble to find the right direction among the cross roads that traverse the country, and I made so many mistakes that it took nearly five days to go fifty miles, yet without having to pass another night in the forest, as I found a farm-house every evening, whose owners gave me an hospitable reception.

A great many Germans inhabit this part of the country, particularly Suabians, living by agriculture, and, when not too far from the town, by carrying and selling wood, as there is none in the immediate neighborhood of St. Louis, except some small stunted oaks.

My funds by this time had shrunk down to a single American dollar, whose superscription, “E pluribus unum,” appeared a bitter sarcasm on my present circumstances. The third day of my wanderings in Missouri broke dull and moist through the mist; it began to rain, and the roads became slippery. About noon I arrived at another cross road, and was deliberating which to take, when I heard a cock crow not very far off. The sound was music to my ears at such a moment. I took the path leading towards it, and soon came to the fence of a little corn-field; upon the fence sat a curious figure, swinging himself to and fro, and singing in a low melodious voice some song unknown to me. As he heard my steps he sprang from the fence, and a poor pale sickly lad stood before me. He offered me his right hand with a smile, and with his left pushed away the long lank wet hair from his eyes; he led me quietly to the door and disappeared. His father, an old farmer, told me that I should find some German settlements about eight or nine miles further on, and though it was still raining, I resolved on continuing my journey, and reached the block-houses of my countrymen before dark.

The weather continuing bad, and I having but little money, I resolved to accept work if I could find it. Three brothers living here, who seemed good sort of people, were ready to employ me. We were to agree about the wages after a week’s trial. The next day saw me sally forth early in the morning, armed with a heavy hoe, to the unaccustomed work of rooting up bushes. It made the muscles and sinews of my arms ache and swell, so it happened very opportunely for me that the following day was the festival of the Three Kings, and as the honest Germans do no work on that day, I was very much obliged to the Three Kings for their appearance. But though they would not work for themselves, we all went, according to the custom here, to help build a house for a neighbor, who had lately settled, and for which the logs were already cut and collected.

The week passed by without further incident. I worked very hard, and it seemed all the harder as it was the first time that I had to work incessantly. As the brothers offered me no more than eight dollars a month, I thought that I should find better pay in Little Rock, so took the two dollars that I had earned, bade them all a hearty farewell, and went on my way in good spirits.

Next morning I came to the most important lead mines of Missouri, not far from Farmington, a pretty little town. The lead was laid in great heaps on both sides of the road, and as it looked very like silver, it was capable of making a strong impression on any one who possessed a slightly excitable imagination. As my bullets were getting scarce, I took a couple of pounds from one of the heaps, in order to cast a few in the next house that I stopped at. All these mines are private property, and the workmen carry on their excavations when they please, wherever they expect to find ore, and are paid according to the quantity they procure; if they find none, they receive nothing, and many poor fellows have worked for weeks in vain. Their labors are carried on in the simplest manner. A workman, or generally two together, come and offer themselves; a certain space is given, and while one digs, the other clears out the shaft; sometimes they find a vein of pure lead, in which case they are very well paid. The whole place is so full of holes, that it is very dangerous to go about at night. The proprietors have erected smelting furnaces on the ground between the shafts, where the ore is cast into pigs, and then it is forwarded to the Mississippi.

I passed the following night in the house of an American family. The owner had a herd of remarkably fine cattle, as well as a fine breed of horses. Soon after I was seated in the warm chimney corner, I heard the gallop of a horse. It stopped at the house, the door opened, and in stepped a very pretty girl, with her little riding-whip in her hand, and her color heightened by the sharp ride; she was received by all with a warm welcome, and seemed to be the betrothed of one of the young men, near whom she sat, and began to joke.

Passing through Frederickstown, I reached Currant river, the boundary of Missouri, on the 22nd of January; the water was so clear, that although it was about fifteen feet deep where I passed, the smallest objects could be distinctly seen at the bottom.

CHAPTER IV.

I was now in Arkansas. Game seemed to abound. Flocks of wild turkeys filled the forests as thick as partridges in Germany, and deer were equally plentiful; in one day I saw several herds of ten or twelve head each. On the 23rd I came to Spring river, so named from the crystalline clearness of its waters. I had intended to continue my journey on the following morning, but my talkative hostess, among other things, spoke of her husband, an old Pennsylvanian, who understood German, and who could give a great deal of information about Indian burial-places. The chance of hearing any thing about the natives was a strong magnet to my curiosity, so I decided to await his arrival, and, as I did not wish to diminish unnecessarily my small stock of money, I assisted to gather in the Indian corn, so as to earn my food. As my host arrived in the evening, I had not long to wait. He informed me that there were a number of sepulchral monuments on the banks of the Spring river, or in its neighborhood, and spoke of gigantic bones and skeletons which had been found there. When in Illinois, I had heard of such remains of a colossal race of men, and among others of a human lower jaw, whose owner must have been about nine feet high. He also said that he had found urns and weapons in the graves; but he had none to show me, for these people have no regard for any thing that does not offer some immediate prospect of gain.

On the banks of the neighboring White river, they had found bricks some feet under the surface in several places, laid as if they had formed a street or road, and my host, as well as several others, maintained that there must have been a town there.

There is a strong probability that, before the modern race of Indians, a stronger and more civilized people must have inhabited North America, as several ancient and magnificent buildings in Mexico also tend to prove. If my host had had time to show me any of the mounds, I would have devoted a day or two to their examination, but he was obliged to take another journey on the following day, and I could not well await his return. Perhaps some one else may find time to make excavations.

On the following morning I set off again on my travels, and turned a little out of my way to climb a rocky height, when an eagle suddenly rose before me. I fired. For a minute or two he floated motionless in the air, then, flapping his wings, he mounted higher and higher till I could hardly distinguish him. I concluded that I must have missed him, and was reloading, when he turned in the air, and fell dead to the ground. He was a large bird, measuring seven feet from wing to wing. I was pleased with my shot, as it was the first eagle I had killed. He was of a dark-brown color, with white head and tail. In imitation of the Indians, I ornamented my cap with one of his feathers.

On the evening of the 27th of January, as I was occupied in breaking up a deer that I had shot, a lad of about thirteen or fourteen, with a fowling-piece on his shoulder, came to help me, and showed that he was by no means an unskilled hand. We packed the two legs and the back in the skin, and bore it between us to the abode of the youth, only a few miles distant, where I decided on passing the night. I have met, in all parts of America, with a number of very worthy, amiable people, as also with some very bad characters: this is to be expected in a country with such a mingled population; but here, in this solitude, I found a family not to be surpassed in worth and amiable qualities in any part of the world. An old man, with trembling hands, sat by the fire, and though many winters had bleached his locks, his rosy cheeks showed that he was still strong and hearty. Opposite sat a noble-looking matron, considerably younger than her husband, but still of great age. By her side was a young and pretty woman of the neighborhood, whose husband had taken a journey to the north on business. Three stout, blooming youths came in one after the other from shooting, bringing four wild turkeys.

I was already far enough advanced in English to be able to take part in the conversation, the educated American being very indulgent to foreigners in this respect. We sat talking together till about ten o’clock. The young wife had just received a letter from her husband, which she read through and through ten times over. She had been very unfortunate in Arkansas. The doctors had killed three of her children, and she herself was suffering from inflamed eyes through their ignorance. The fact is, that there is no sufficient authority to control their practice in these new States, and every quack who chooses may call himself doctor. They prescribe calomel for every disorder, and decayed teeth, inflamed eyes, spongy gums, and shattered health are the universal consequences.

My next night was passed at a Kentucky-man’s, who had settled here. He had about a dozen dogs in his house, and he willingly made one over to me, which, according to his account, was a capital dog for hunting wild turkeys, running them to a tree, so that they could be more easily shot.

Lounging along the road, I saw, at a good distance in front of me, a buck quietly feeding right in the path, and, rather distrusting the good education of my dog, I fastened him to a tree with my pocket-handkerchief and the string of my powder-horn. The buck continued feeding unsuspiciously, till I came within about eighty-five paces from him, when, as I had the wind at my back, he scented my approach, and bounded over a fallen tree to gain the thicket; my buck shot flew after him, but I must have fired low, for at about 150 paces he began to limp with his hind leg. By this time my dog must have thought that he had played the mere spectator long enough, and having bitten through the powder-horn string, he bounded after the deer with my handkerchief about his neck, and neither deer, dog, nor handkerchief have I ever seen since.

About sunset I arrived at a house where I purposed to pass the night, and had placed my hand on the fence to jump over, when I saw the mistress of the house sitting before the door, occupied with her children’s heads in a way that suppressed all inclination to speak on my part. I turned away, resolving rather to pass the night in the forest than with such a family; yet this alternative was unnecessary, for before dark I reached the dwelling of a man who had fought under Washington in the war of independence; of course he was very old, but he moved about with considerable vigor.

On the following evening I came to the Little Red river. It was growing dark, but a man was still at work on the other side. I called to him, asking where I could pass. He answered: “You see that house there?” By his accent I knew that he was a German, and asked again, in good Saxon: “What house?” He replied again, in a mixture of German and English, and in a tone of vexation at having forgotten his pure mother tongue: “Go a little way down the river, and you will find a canoe.” We were already good friends, although divided by the river. I found the canoe, paddled over, and went to the nearest house, before which a number of people were standing, and amongst them the owner, Von G., formerly an officer in the army, now an industrious farmer, and zealous sportsman. He possessed two slaves, and was well contented with his new condition. He kindly offered me a bed in his house. In the evening the German came in, whose acquaintance I had made on the banks of the river. He was a very worthy, though rather an eccentric man. He must have been equally pleased with me, for he insisted that I must not think of going away so soon, but must come and pass some days with him in order to see the country. Having nothing to hurry me, I willingly accepted his kind invitation, and went on the following day to his house, where he made me quite at home. He had a nice little wife, and five strong healthy children.

In the afternoon it began to rain. Travelling was not to be thought of; even had I wished it, these kind people would not have let me go. We chatted away till deep in the night, and it did me a world of good to be able to converse again to my heart’s content in my mother tongue. My host was a Rhenish Bavarian, named Hilger, a builder by trade, and by no means uneducated.

On the next day we had a visit from a neighbor, a man of about thirty-five, with a short green shooting jacket, and a German rifle; but his accent betrayed him to be no German. Hilger addressed him by the name of Turoski. He was a Polish officer, who sought and found in America security against the political persecutions that he would have been exposed to in Europe. He was unmarried, and a little ten-year-old daughter of Hilger’s minded his house. This child was often alone for days and nights together in Turoski’s log-house, miles away from other habitations; yet she cared nothing whether it was the storm or the wolves that howled round the hut.

After a short conversation, Turoski proposed that I should come and stay with him. I passed some very agreeable days with these estimable men, sometimes with one, sometimes with the other. To give my reader an idea of the bachelor-life of an American backwoodsman, I will describe one of the nights that I passed at Turoski’s. Hilger’s daughter had gone home to visit her parents, who lived three miles off, and we two were alone. The Pole’s dwelling was nothing but a simple rough log-house, without any window, and all the chinks between the logs were left open, probably to admit fresh air. Two beds, a table, a couple of chairs, one of them with arms, some iron saucepans, three plates, two tin pots, one saucer, several knives, and a coffee-mill, formed the whole of his furniture and kitchen utensils. A smaller building near the house contained the store of meat for the winter. There was a field of four or five acres close to the house, and another about a quarter of a mile off on the river. He had some good horses, a great many pigs, quantities of fowls, and several milch cows.

Being deeply interested in our conversation, we forgot to prepare any supper, and it was not till the cold made itself felt that we went to bed. It may have been about half-past twelve, when Turoski woke up, and swore by all the saints, that he could lie no longer in bed for ravenous hunger, and that he must have something to eat, even if it were a piece of raw meat. I laughed, and told him to draw his hunger-belt tighter, but he jumped up and gave me no more rest. We made up the fire, which was nearly burnt out, and then held a council as to what we should cook. We had shot nothing, the bread was all gone, and we had eaten our last bit of pork for dinner. What was to be done? Turoski decided the point. The Indian corn of last harvest was in a small building in a field by the river; I was to go and fetch an armful, while he would prepare something in the mean time. The night was dark as pitch; I was often obliged to feel with my feet for the path like a blind man, that I might not lose myself in the forest. When, in the course of half an hour, I returned with the maize, Turoski had killed one of the fowls that were roosting on a low tree, plunged it in hot water, and while he cleaned it I fried the corn; then, while the fowl was being grilled, I ground the corn in the coffee-mill, which by no means reduced it to the consistence of flour. I moistened the grist with water, added a little salt, made a cake of it about three-quarters of an inch thick, and set it in a saucepan cover to bake. So far so good; but I wanted a couple of eggs. There was a kind of shed attached to the house, in which leaves of Indian corn, plucked green, and then dried, were kept as fodder, and here the hens came to lay their eggs. Turoski crept in, and feeling about, soon came to a nest with five, of which he brought away only two, having broken the others in his hurry. Coffee was then made, and we had a very good supper, or rather breakfast, for it was now past two o’clock. But we were not yet to repose in safety; the monster log of hickory, that we had laid on the hearth, flared up and set fire to the chimney: Turoski mounted on the roof, while I handed him some buckets of water, and the fire was soon extinguished. At last we got to sleep, and remained so till the sun was high in the heavens.

My unquiet spirit drove me forth again on the morning of the 7th of February. I took a warm farewell of these kind people, and went in a south-west direction through the forest, hoping soon to reach the high road. The sun disappeared behind dark clouds, but thinking I was sure of my way, I walked quickly on. Who could paint my astonishment at finding myself, after two hours’ walking, in front of the very house I had started from! This was vexatious, but I slipped off again into the forest without being perceived, took out my compass, and made a straight course.

In the evening I shot a deer, but was obliged to leave the greater portion of it, as it was too heavy to carry. Long after sunset on the 9th I arrived on the Arkansas river; the lights of Little Rock shone from the opposite bank, but a strange fantastic scene presented itself on this side of the river, on which I stared with astonishment. An Indian tribe had pitched their tents close to the banks of the river. A number of large crackling fires, formed of whole trunks of dry fallen trees, which lay about in abundance, offering good shelter against the wind; over the fires were kettles with large pieces of venison, bear, squirrels, raccoons, opossums, wild-cats, and whatever else the fortune of the chase had given them. Here young men were occupied securing the horses to some of the fallen trees, and supplying them with fodder; there lay others, overcome by the firewater, singing their national songs with a mournful and heavy tongue. I stood for a long time watching the animated scene.

A tall powerful Indian, decked out with glass beads and silver ornaments, came staggering towards me, with an empty bottle in his left hand and a handsome rifle in his right, and, holding them both towards me, gave me to understand that he would give me the rifle if I would fill his bottle. The dealers in spirituous liquors are subject to a heavy fine if they sell any to soldiers, Indians, or negroes. The poor Indians have fallen so low, and become so degraded by the base speculations of the pale faces, that they will give all they most value, to procure the body and soul-destroying spirits. Though I had but little money left, only twelve cents, I declined the exchange; he turned sorrowfully away, probably to offer the advantageous bargain to some one else, in which case I thought it best to indulge the poor savage, and save him his handsome rifle; I took the bottle out of his hand, filled it, and gave it back to him. On my refusing to accept his rifle, he laid hold of me, and dragged me almost forcibly to his fire, obliged me to drink with him, to smoke out of his pipe, and eat a large slice of venison, while his wife and three children sat in the tent staring with surprise at the stranger. He then stood up, and in his harmonious language related a long history to me and to some sons of the forest who had assembled round us, and of which I did not understand a word. At last as the noise became annoying, I stole away quietly to seek a berth for the night.

When I came again to the ferry on the following morning, the encampment was broken up, and the Indians had embarked on board a steamer, which was to carry them further west. I crossed by the ferry, and had now no longer any cause to be anxious about spending too much money, having paid away my last twelve cents. Rarely has a traveller entered a strange town with so light a purse. My situation in such a place was not at all enviable. The soles of my boots had disappeared, and then the feet of my stockings, so that latterly I had gone barefoot on the frozen ground. Yet my self-confidence and courage did not fail me. My first object was to find a house where I could pass the night, my second to get my boots repaired: I found board and lodging at a German wheelwright’s, named Spranger, for three dollars a week, and although with all my searching I could not find three cents in my pockets, I agreed to the bargain, giving my gun in pawn; then taking my hunting-knife I hastened to a shoemaker’s, who asked two and a half dollars to re-sole my boots, and accepted my knife as a pledge, lending me a pair of shoes to wear till the boots should be finished. When this was all arranged, I looked about for work, and took many a walk in vain.

On the second day, having nothing else to do, I went with Spranger to Von Seckendorf’s farm to saw down some trees that S. required for his business. In Little Rock many had referred me to a Mr. Fisher, who was well known among the Germans, and who at all events would give me work. He had just finished a large frame house, and wanted to make some addition to it. I went to every door in the building to seek some one who could tell me where to find him, but all was as quiet as the grave. I then went to a smaller building, and knocked. As no one answered, after knocking three times, I pushed open the door, and entered. In one corner of a miserable room I found an empty bedstead, with broken legs; carpenter’s tools lay on the table and floor, and a coffin stood in another corner. At the foot of the bed, on the bare earth, lay a man, with his head on one of the broken legs of the bedstead; his right arm was under his head, the left lay across his face, so that I could only see the dark hair; the hands were spotted red and black, I thought from the paint of the coffin. I asked him if he knew where Mr. Fisher was. He gave no answer: I supposed him to be asleep, and he appeared to be ill. I went out again quite quietly, and tried some other doors; but they were all locked, and not a soul to be seen. I went back again to the sleeper, and although I called loudly, and shook him by the shoulder, I could get no answer, and came away much vexed. At length, after a great deal of trouble, I found Mr. Fisher, and had my trouble for my pains, for he had no work to give me. In the course of conversation, I inquired about the man in the hut, and was told that he had died the day before of smallpox: my blood ran cold at the words. The doctor had stated the nature of his disease, and desired that nobody should go near him; and as the man was poor, without a cent in the world, he had shut the door, and never been near him again. The poor fellow had been left to himself for three days, without even a drink of water, and at last had died miserably on the floor. Little Rock is a vile, detestable place in this respect, and the boatmen on the Mississippi have good reason when they sing—