"The two gentlemen discovered many wonderful things through the window: first a sailor had murdered a woman, next the stage had just capsized, and afterwards they were sure that the shop next door was on fire. Slick winked and smiled complacently, without leaving his position. He was too old a fox to be taken by such childish tricks. All at once, No. 2 observed to No. 1, that the bet would not keep good, as the stakes had not been laid down, and both addressed the host at the same time, 'Not cunning enough for me,' thought Slick; and poking his left hand into the right pocket of his waistcoat, he took out his pocket-book containing the larger notes, and handed it to his customers.

"'Now,' exclaimed No. 2 to his companion, 'I am sure you will lose the wager; the fellow is imperturbable; nothing can move him.'

"'Wait a bit; I'll soon make him leave off,' whispered the other, loud enough for Slick to hear him.

"'Landlord,' continued he, 'we trust to your honour to go on for half an hour; we will now have a talk with bonny Mrs. Slick.' Saying this, they quitted the room without closing the door.

"Slick was not jealous; not he. Besides, the bar was full of people; it was all a trick of the gents, who were behind the door watching him. After all, they were but novices, and he would win their money: he only regretted that the bet had not been heavier.

"Twenty minutes had fairly passed, when Slick's own little boy entered the room. 'Pa,' said he, 'there is a gemman what wants you below in the bar.'

"'Another trick,' thought the landlord; 'they shan't have me, though.—Here she goes, there she goes.' And as the boy approached near to him to repeat his errand, Slick gave him a kick. 'Get away. Here she goes, there she goes.'

"The boy went away crying, and soon returned with Mrs. Slick, who cried in an angry tone, 'Now, don't make a fool of yourself; the gentleman you sold the town-lot to is below with the money.'

"'They shan't have me, though,' said Slick to himself. And to all the invectives and reproaches of Mrs. Slick he answered only with, 'Here she goes? there she goes.' At last the long needle marked the half hour, and the landlord, having won the wager, turned round.

"'Where are they?' said he to his wife.

"'They?-who do you mean?' answered she.

"'The two gentlemen, to be sure.'

"'Why, they have been gone these last twenty minutes,'

"Slick was thunderstruck. 'And the pocket-book?' he uttered, convulsively.

"His wife looked at him with ineffable contempt.

"'Why, you fool, you did not give them your money, did you?'

"Slick soon discovered that he was minus five hundred dollars, besides the price of the two dinners. Since that time he never bets but cash down, and in the presence of witnesses."



CHAPTER XXX.

We continued our route for a few days after we had left the buffaloes, and now turned our horses' heads due east. Having left behind the localities frequented by the wild herds, we soon became exposed to the cravings of hunger. Now and then we would fall in with a prairie hen, a turkey, or a few rattlesnakes, but the deer and antelopes were so shy, that though we could see them sporting at a distance, we could never come within a mile of them.

The ground was level, and the grass, although short, was excellent pasture, and richly enamelled with a variety of flowers. It was a beautiful country. We had fine weather during the day, but the nights were exceedingly cold, and the dew heavy. Having lost our blankets, we passed miserable nights. There was no fuel with which we could light our fire; even the dung of animals was so scarce that we could not, during seven days, afford to cook our scanty meals more than thrice, and the four last grouse that we killed were eaten raw.

About the middle of the eighth day a dark line was seen rising above the horizon, far in the south-east, and extending as far as the eye could reach. We knew it was a forest, and that when we gained it we were certain of having plenty to eat; but it was very far off, at least twenty miles, and we were much exhausted. In the evening we were almost driven to desperation by hunger, and we found that the approach to the forest would prove long and difficult, as it was skirted by a bed of thick briars and prickly pears, which in breadth could not be less than three leagues, and that a passage must be forced through this almost impassable barrier. The forest was undoubtedly the commencement of that extended line of noble timber which encircles as a kind of natural barrier the States of Louisiana, Arkansas, and Missouri. By reaching it we should soon leave privation and fatigue behind us, whereas, on the contrary, travelling to the north would have added to our sufferings, as the same level and untenanted prairie extended to the very shores of the Red River. We consequently determined to force our way through the thorns and briars, even if we were obliged to cut a road with our knives and tomahawks. We journeyed on till sunset, when we came to a deep dry gully, on the very edge of the prickly pear barrier, and there we encamped for the night. To go farther without something to eat was impossible. The wild and haggard looks of my companions, their sunken eyes, and sallow, fleshless faces, too plainly showed that some subsistence must be speedily provided more nutritious than the unripe and strongly acidulated fruit presented to us. We drew lots, and the parson's horse was doomed; in a few minutes, his hide was off, and a part of the flesh distributed.

The meat of a young mustang is excellent, but that of an old broken-down horse is quite another affair. It was as tough as india-rubber, and the more a piece of it was masticated, the larger it became in the mouth. A man never knows what he can eat, until driven to desperation by a week's starving, and the jolly parson, who had pledged himself never to eat even calf's meat, fiercely attacked the leathery remains of his faithful ambler.

The next morning we directed our steps in a south course, and crossing the gully, we entered in what appeared to be a passage, or a bear's path through the prickly pears; but after travelling some six or eight miles, we found our further progress cut off by a deep and precipitous chasm, lined with impassable briars. To return was our only alternative, and, at noon we again found ourselves near to the point from whence we had started in the morning.

A consultation was now held as to our future course. The lawyers and Roche proposed to go farther south, and make another attempt, but recollecting, that on the morning of the preceding day we had passed a large, though shallow, sandy stream, Gabriel and I thought it more advisable to return to it. This stream was evidently one of the tributaries of the Red River, and was running in an easterly direction, and we were persuaded that it must flow through the chasm, and enter into the forest.

Our proposal was agreed to, and without any more loss of time, each of us taking with him a piece of horse-flesh, we retraced our steps. The parson was on foot, and though I proposed many times that we should ride alternately, he always refused, preferring now to travel on foot, as he was heartily tired of riding. Indeed, I never saw a better walker in my life; the man had evidently mistaken his profession, for he would, have gained more money with his legs as an Indian runner, or a scout, than he had any chance of obtaining in the one to which he belonged, and for which he was most unqualified.

The next day, at noon, we encamped on the stream, and though with little hope of success, I threw in my fishing-line, baiting my hook with horse-flies and grasshoppers. My hooks had scarcely sunk in the water, when the bait was taken, and to my astonishment and delight, I soon dragged out of the water two very large trout. I shouted to my companions, who were soon round me, and we resolved to pass the night there, as we considered that a good meal or two would enable us so much better to continue our fatiguing journey. A little above us was also discovered a large quantity of drift timber, left dry upon the sand, and in a short time every one of us were actively employed in preparing for a jovial meal. Gabriel, being the best marksman, started for game, and I continued fishing, to the great delight of the doctor and the parson, the first one taking under his care the cooking department, and the last scouring the prairie to catch grasshoppers and horse-flies. In less than three hours I had twenty large trout, and a dozen cat-fish, and Gabriel returned with two Canadian geese. Invigorated by an abundant meal and a warm fire, we soon regained our spirits, and that night we slept sound, and made up for our former watching and shivering.

The next morning, after breakfast, we filled our saddle-bags with the remainder of our provisions, and following the stream for ten miles, with water to our horses' shoulders, as both sides of the river were covered with briars. The parson had been obliged to ride behind one of the lawyers, who had a strong built, powerful horse; and great was our merriment when one of our steeds stumbled into a hole, and brought down his master with him. For nine miles more we continued wading down the river, till at last the prickly pears and briars receding from the banks, allowed us once more to regain the dry ground: but we had not travelled an hour upon the bank, when our road was interrupted by a broken range of hills.

After incredible fatigue to both horses and men, for we were obliged to dismount and carry our arms and saddle-bags, the ascent was finally achieved. When we arrived at the summit, we found below us a peaceful and romantic valley, through the centre of which the river winded its way, and was fed by innumerable brooks, which joined it in every direction. Their immediate borders were fringed with small trees, bushes of the deepest green, while the banks of the river were skirted with a narrow belt of timber, of larger and more luxuriant growth.

This valley was encircled by the range of hills we had ascended, so far as to the belt of the forest. We led our horses down the declivity, and in less than an hour found ourselves safe at the bottom. A brisk ride of three or four miles through the valley brought us to the edge of the forest, where we encamped near a small creek, and after another good night's rest, we pushed on through a mass of the noblest maple and pine-trees I had ever seen. Now game abounded; turkeys, bears, and deer, were seen almost every minute, and, as we advanced, the traces of mules and jackasses were plainly visible. A little further on, the footprints of men were also discovered, and from their appearance they were but a few hours' old. This sight made us forget our fatigues, and we hurried on, with fond anticipations of finding a speedy termination to all our sufferings.

Late in the afternoon, I killed a very fat buck, and although we were anxious to follow the tracks, to ascertain what description of travellers were before us, our horses were so tired, and our appetites so sharpened, that upon reflection, we thought it desirable to remain where we were. I took this opportunity of making myself a pair of mocassins, with the now useless saddle-bags of the parson.

That evening we were in high glee, thinking that we had arrived at one of the recent settlements of western emigration, for, as I have observed, we had seen tracks of jackasses, and these animals are never employed upon any distant journey. We fully expected the next morning to find some log houses, within ten or fifteen miles, where we should be able to procure another horse for the parson, and some more ammunition, as we had scarcely half a pound of balls left between us. The lawyer enjoyed, by anticipation, the happiness of once more filling his half-gallon flask, and the doctor promised to give us dishes of his own invention, as soon as he could meet with a frying-pan. In fine, so exuberant were our spirits, that it was late before we laid down to sleep.

At about two o'clock in the morning, feeling a pressure upon my breast, I opened my eyes, and saw Gabriel with a finger upon his lips, enjoining me to silence. He then informed me, in a whisper, that a numerous party of thieves were in our neighbourhood, and that they had already discovered our horses. Taking with us only our knives and tomahawks, we crawled silently till we came to a small opening in the forest, when we saw some twenty fellows encamped, without any light or fire, but all armed to the teeth. Three or four of them appeared animated in their conversation, and, being favoured by the darkness, we approached nearer, till we were able to hear every word.

"All sleeping sound," said one of them, "but looking mighty wretched; not a cent among them, I am sure; if I can judge by their clothing, three of them are half-breeds."

"And the horses?" said another voice.

"Why, as to them, they have only seven," replied the first voice, "and they are broken down and tired, although fine animals. They would sell well after a three weeks' grazing."

"Take them away, then; are they tied?"

"Only two."

"Break the halters then, and start them full speed, as if they were frightened; it will not awaken their suspicion."

"Why not settle the matter with them all at once? we would get their saddles."

"Fool! suppose they are a vanguard of General Rusk's army, and one of them should escape? No; to-morrow at sunrise they will run upon the tracks of their horses, and leave their saddles and saddle-bags behind; three men shall remain here, to secure the plunder, and when the ducks (travellers) are fairly entangled in the forest, being on foot, we can do what we please."

Others then joined the conversation, and Gabriel and I returned to our friends as silently as we left them. Half an hour afterwards we heard the galloping of our horses, in a southerly direction, and Gabriel going once more to reconnoitre, perceived the band taking another course, towards the east, leaving, as they had proposed, three of their men behind them. For a few minutes he heard these men canvassing as to the best means of carrying the saddles, and having drank pretty freely from a large stone jug, they wrapped themselves in their blankets, and crawled into a sort of a burrow, which had probably been dug out by the brigands as a cachette for their provisions and the booty which they could not conveniently carry.

By the conversation of the three fellows, Gabriel conjectured that the band had gone to a place of rendezvous, on the bank of some river, and that the party who had carried away our horses was to proceed only six miles south, to a stream where the track of the horses would be effaced and lost in case of our pursuit. As soon as they considered that we were far enough from our encampment, they were to return by another road, and rejoin the three men left behind. Gabriel conjectured that only four men had gone away with the horses. After a little consultation, we awoke our comrades, and explaining to them how matters stood, we determined upon a counterplot.

It was at first proposed to shoot the three scoundrels left for our saddle-bags, but reflecting that they were better acquainted than we were with the locality, and that the report of one of their fire-arms would excite the suspicion of those who had charge of our horses; we determined upon another line of conduct. Before daylight, I took my bow and arrows and succeeded in reaching a secure position, a few yards from the burrow where the thieves were concealed. Gabriel did the same, in a bush halfway between the burrow and our encampment. In the meantime, Roche, with the five Americans played their part admirably—walking near to the burrow swearing that our horses had been frightened by some varmin and escaped, and started upon the tracks, with as much noise as they could make; to deceive the robbers the more, they left their rifles behind.

As soon as they were gone, the thieves issued from their places of concealment, and one arming himself with his rifle, "went," as he said, "to see if the coast was clear," He soon returned with two of our rifles and a blazing piece of wood, and the worthies began laughing together at the success of their ruse. They lighted a fire, took another dram, and while one busied himself with preparing coffee, the other two started, with no other weapon but their knives, to fetch the saddle-bags and saddles.

They had not been gone five minutes when I perceived an enormous rattlesnake, ready to spring, at not half a yard from me. Since my snake adventure among the Comanches, I had imbibed the greatest dread of that animal, and my alarm was so great, that I rushed out of my concealment, and, at a single bound; found myself ten yards from the fellow, who was quietly blowing his fire and stirring his coffee. He arose immediately, made two steps backwards, and, quite unnerved by so sudden an apparition, he extended his hand towards a tree, against which the rifles had been placed.

That movement decided his fate, for not choosing to be shot at, nor to close with a fellow so powerful that he could have easily crushed my head between his thumb and finger, I drew at him; though rapid, my aim was certain, and he fell dead, without uttering a single word, the arrow having penetrated his heart. I then crawled to Gabriel, to whom I explained the matter, and left him, to take my station near the two remaining brigands. I found them busy searching the saddle-bags, and putting aside what they wished to secrete for their own use.

After they had been thus employed for half an hour, one of them put three saddles upon his head, and, thus loaded, returned to the burrow, desiring his companion to come along, and drink his coffee while it was hot. Some five minutes afterwards, the noise of a heavy fall was heard (it was that of the thief who had just left, who was killed by the tomahawk of Gabriel), and the remaining robber, loading himself with the saddle-bags, prepared to follow, swearing aloud against his companion, "who could not see before his eyes, and would break the pommels of the saddles."

I had just drawn my bow, and was taking my aim, when Gabriel, passing me, made a signal to forbear, and rushing upon the thief, he kicked him in the back, just as he was balancing the saddles upon his head. The thief fell down, and attempted to struggle, but the prodigious muscular strength of Gabriel was too much for him; in a moment he laid half strangled and motionless. We bound him firmly hand and foot, and carried him to his burrow; we laid the two bodies by his side, stowed our luggage in the burrow, and having destroyed all traces of the struggle, we prepared for the reception of the horse-thieves.

Chance befriended us. While we were drinking the coffee thus left as a prize to the conquerors, we heard at a distance the trampling of horses. I seized one of the rifles, and Gabriel, after a moment of intense listening, prepared his lasso, and glided behind the bushes. It was not long before I perceived my own horse, who, having undoubtedly thrown his rider, was galloping back to the camp. He was closely pursued by one of the rascals, mounted upon Gabriel's horse, and calling out to the three robbers, "Stop him; Russy, Carlton—stop him!" At that moment, Gabriel's lasso fell upon his shoulders, and he fell off the horse as dead as if struck by lightning: his neck was broken.

Having gained our horses, we saddled them, and took our rifles, not doubting but that we would easily capture the remaining rascals, as the speed of our two steeds was very superior to that of the others. After half an hour's hard riding, we fell in with Roche and our companions, who had been equally fortunate. It appeared that the fellow who had been riding my horse had received a severe fall against a tree; and while one of his companions started in chase of the animal, who had galloped off, the two others tied their horses to the trees, and went to his assistance. When thus occupied, they were surprised, and bound hand and foot by Roche and his party.

We brought back our prisoners, and when we arrived at the burrow, we found that, far from having lost anything by the robbers, we had, on the contrary, obtained articles which we wanted. One of the lawyers found in the stone jug enough of whisky to fill his flask; the parson got another rifle, to replace that which he had lost in the prairie, and the pouches and powder-horns of the three first robbers were found well supplied with powder and balls. We also took possession of four green Mackinau blankets and a bag of ground coffee.

We heartily thanked Providence, who had thrown the rascals in our way, and, after a good meal, we resumed our journey in a southern direction, each of the three lawyers leading, by a stout rope, one of the brigands, who were gagged and their hands firmly bound behind their backs. During the whole day, the parson amused himself with preaching honesty and morality to our prisoners, who, seeing now that they had not the least chance to escape, walked briskly alongside of the horses.

Towards evening we encamped in one of those plains, a mile in circumference, which are so frequently met with in the forests of the west. We had performed a journey of twenty miles, and that, with the forced ride which our beasts had performed in the morning, had quite tired them out. Besides, having now four men on foot, we could not proceed so fast as before. We lighted a fire and fed our prisoners, putting two of them in the centre of our circles, while the two others, who were much braised by their falls of the morning, took their station near the fire, and we covered them with a blanket. Though we believed we had nothing to fear from our prisoners, the two first being bound hand and foot, and the two last being too weak to move, we nevertheless resolved that a watch should be kept, and as Gabriel and I had not slept during the night before, we appointed Roche to keep the first watch.

When I awoke, I felt chilly, and to my astonishment I perceived that our fire was down. I rose and looked immediately for the prisoners. The two that we had put within our circle were still snoring heavily, but the others, whose feet we had not bound on account of their painful bruises, were gone. I looked for the watch, and found that it was one of the lawyers, who, having drank too freely of the whisky, had fallen asleep. The thieves had left the blanket; I touched it; I perceived that it was yet warm, so that I knew they could not have been gone a long while.

The day was just breaking, and I awoke my companions, the lawyer was much ashamed of himself, and offered the humblest apologies, and as a proof of his repentance, he poured on the ground the remainder of the liquor in his flask. As soon as Gabriel and Roche were up, we searched in the grass for the foot-prints, which we were not long in finding, and which conducted us straight to the place where we had left our horses loose and grazing. Then, for the first time, we perceived that the horses which were shod, and which belonged to the three lawyers, had had their shoes taken off, when in possession of the thieves the day before.

By the foot-prints, multiplied in every direction, it was evident that the fugitives had attempted, though in vain, to seize upon some of our horses. Following the foot-marks a little farther, brought us to a small sandy creek, where the track was lost; and on the other side, to our great astonishment, we saw plainly (at least the appearance seemed to imply as much), that help had been at hand, and that the thieves had escaped upon a tall American horse, ambling so lightly, that the four shoes of the animal were comparatively but feebly marked on the ground. It seemed, also, that the left foreleg of the animal had been at some time hurt, for the stopping was not regular, being sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, and now and then deviating two or three inches from the line.

I thought immediately that we had been discovered by another roving party of the brigands, and that they had gone to get a reinforcement to overpower us, but upon a closer examination of the track, I came at once to the solution of the mystery. I remarked that on the print left by the shoes, the places upon which the head of the nails should have pressed deeper, were, on the contrary, convex, the shoes were, therefore, not fixed by nails; and my suspicions being awakened, I soon spied upon a soft sandy spot, through which the track passed, that there was something trailing from the left hind foot, and I satisfied myself that this last slight mark was made by a piece of twine. A little afterwards I remarked that on the softer parts of the ground, and two or three inches behind and before the horse-shoe prints, were two circular impressions, which I ascertained to be the heel and the toe-marks left by a man's mocassins.

The mystery was revealed. We had never searched our prisoners, one of whom must have had some of the shoes taken off the horses, which shoes, in these districts, are very valuable, as they cannot be replaced. Having tried in vain to catch some of our horses, they had washed out the tracks in the creek, and had fixed the horse-shoes to their own feet with pieces of twine; after which, putting themselves in a line at the required distance one from the other, they had started off, both with the same foot, imitating thus the pacing of a swift horse.

The plan was cunning enough, and proved that the blackguards were no novices in their profession, but they had not yet sufficiently acquired that peculiar tact natural to savage life. Had they been Indians, they would have fixed small pieces of wood into the holes of the shoe to imitate the nails, and they would then have escaped. We returned to the camp to arm ourselves, and the lawyers, wishing to recover our confidence, entreated that they might be permitted to chase and recapture the fellows. At noon they returned quite exhausted, but they had been successful; the prisoners were now bound hand and foot, and also tied by the waist to a young pine, which we felled for the purpose. It was useless to travel further on that day, as the lawyers' horses were quite blown, and having now plenty of ammunition, some of us went in pursuit of turkeys and pheasants, for a day or two's provisions. All my efforts to obtain information from the prisoners were vain. To my inquiries as to what direction lay the settlements, I received no answer.

Towards evening, as we were taking our meal, we were visited by a band of dogs, who, stopping ten yards from us, began to bark most furiously. Thinking at first they belonged to the band of robbers, who employed them to follow travellers, we hastily seized our arms, and prepared for a fight; but Gabriel asserting the dogs were a particular breed belonging to the Cherokees, Choctaws, Creeks, and other tribes of half-civilized Indians, established upon the Red River, we began shouting and firing our rifles, so as to guide towards us the Indians, who, we presumed, could not be far behind their dogs. We did not wait long, for a few minutes afterwards a gallant band of eighty Cherokees dashed through the cover, and reined up their horses before us. All was explained in a moment.

A system of general depredation had been carried on, for a long while with impunity, upon the plantations above the great bend of the Red River. The people of Arkansas accused the Texans, who, in their turn, asserted that the parties were Indians. Governor Yell, of the Arkansas, complained to Ross, the highly talented chief of the Cherokees, who answered that the robbers were Arkansas men and Texans, and, as a proof of his assertion, he ordered a band to scour the country, until they had fallen in with and captured the depredators. For the last two days, they had been following some tracks, till their dogs, having crossed the trail left by the lawyers and their prisoners, guided the warriors to our encampments.

We gave them all our prisoners, whom we were very glad to get rid of; and the Indian leader generously ordered one of his men to give up his horse and saddle to the parson. To this, however, we would not consent, unless we paid for the animal; and each of us subscribing ten dollars, we presented the money to the man, who certainly did not lose by the bargain.

The next morning, the leader of the Cherokee party advised me to take a southern direction, till we should arrive at the head waters of the river Sabine, from whence, proceeding either northward or eastward, we should, in a few days, reach the Red River, through the cane-brakes and the clearings of the new settlers. Before parting, the Indians made us presents of pipes and tobacco, of which we were much in want; and after a hearty breakfast, we resumed our journey.



CHAPTER XXXI.

The Cherokee Indians, a portion of whom we had just met on such friendly terms, are probably destined to act no inconsiderable part in the future history of Texas. Within the last few years they have given a severe lesson to the governments of both Texas and the United States. The reader is already aware that, through a mistaken policy, the government of Washington have removed from several southern states those tribes of half-civilized Indians which indubitably were the most honourable and industrious portion of the population of these very states. The Cherokees, the Creeks, and the Choctaws, among others, were established on the northern banks of the Red River, in the territory west of the Arkansas.

The Cherokees, with a population of twenty-four thousand individuals; the Creeks, with twenty thousand, and the Choctaws, with fifteen, as soon as they reached their new country, applied themselves to agriculture, and as they possessed wealth, slaves, and cattle, their cotton plantations soon became the finest west from the Mississippi, and latterly all the cotton grown by the Americans and the Texans, within one hundred miles from the Indian settlements, has been brought up to their mills and presses, to be cleaned and put into bales, before it was shipped to New Orleans. Some years before the independence of Texas, a small number of these Cherokees had settled as planters upon the Texan territory, where, by their good conduct and superior management of their farms, they had acquired great wealth, and had conciliated the goodwill of the warlike tribes of Indians around them, such as the Cushates, the Caddoes, and even the Comanches.

As soon as the Texans declared their independence, their rulers, thinking that no better population could exist in the northern districts than that of the Cherokees, invited a few hundred more to come from the Red River, and settle among them; and to engage them so to do, the first session of congress offered them a grant of two or three hundred thousand acres of land, to be selected by them in the district they would most prefer. Thus enticed, hundreds of wealthy Cherokee planters migrated to Texas, with their wealth and cattle. Such was the state of affairs until the presidency of Lamar, a man utterly unequal to the task of ruling over a new country.

Under his government, the Texans, no longer restrained by the energy and honourable feelings of an Austin or a Houston, followed the bent of their dispositions, and were guilty of acts of barbarism and cruelty which, had they, at the time, been properly represented to the civilized people of Europe, would have caused them to blot the name of Texas out of the list of nations.

I have already related the massacre of the Comanches in San Antonio, and the miserable pilfering expedition to Santa Fe, but these two acts had been preceded by one still more disgraceful.

The Cherokees, who had migrated to Texas, were flourishing in their new settlement, when the bankruptcy of the merchants in the United States was followed by that of the planters. The consequence was, that from Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, and Arkansas, hundreds of planters smuggled their negroes and other property into Texas, and as they dared not locate themselves too far west, from their dread of the Mexicans and Indians, they remained in the east country, upon the rivers of which only, at that time, navigation had been attempted.

These new comers, however, had to struggle with many difficulties; they had to clear the ground, to build bridges, to dry up mud-holes and swamps; and, moreover, they found that they could not enter into competition with the Cherokees, who having been established there for a longer time, and raising abundant crops of maize, cotton, and tobacco, were enabled to sell their provisions at one-half the price which the white planter wished to realize. The Europeans, of course, preferred to settle near the Cherokees, from whom they could obtain their Indian corn at fifty cents a bushel, while the American planters demanded two dollars, and sometimes three. In a short time, the Cherokee district became thickly settled, possessing good roads, and bridges and ferries upon every muddy creek; in short, it was, in civilization, full a century ahead of all the other eastern establishments of Texas.

The Texan planters from the United States represented to the government that they would have no chance of cultivating the country and building eastern cities, as long as the Cherokees were allowed to remain; and, moreover, they backed their petition with a clause showing that the minimum price the Cherokee land would be sold at to new comers from the United States was ten dollars an acre. This last argument prevailed, and in spite of the opposition of two or three honest men, the greedy legislators attacked the validity of the acts made during the former presidency; the Cherokees' grant was recalled, and notice given to them that they should forthwith give up their plantations and retire from Texas.

To this order the Cherokees did not deign to give an answer, and, aware of the character of the Texans, they never attempted to appeal for justice; but, on the contrary, prepared themselves to defend their property from any invasion. Seeing them so determined, the Texans' ardour cooled a little, and they offered the Indians twelve cents an acre for their land, which proposition was not attended to; and probably the Cherokees, from the fear which they inspired, would never have been molested had it not been for an act of the greatest cowardice on the part of the Texan government, and a most guilty indifference on that of the United States.

In Alabama, Tennessee, and Arkansas, labour had fallen so low, that thousands of individuals had abandoned their farms to become horse-thieves and negro smugglers. Many among them had gone to sell the produce of their depredations to the Cherokees, who not only did not condescend to deal with them, but punished them with rigour, subjecting them to their own code of laws. These ruffians nurtured plans of vengeance which they dared not themselves execute, but, knowing the greedy spirit of their countrymen, they spread the most incredible stories of Cherokee wealth and comforts. The plan succeeded well, for as soon as the altercation between the Texans and Cherokee Indians was made known to the Western States, several bands were immediately formed, who, in the expectation of a rich booty, entered Texas, and offered the Congress to drive away the Cherokees. As soon as this was known, representations were made by honourable men to the government of the United States, but no notice was taken, and the Western States, probably to get rid at once of the scum of their population, gave every encouragement to the expedition.

For a few months the Cherokees invariably discomfited their invaders, destroying their bands as soon as they were newly formed, and treating them as common robbers; but, being farmers, they could not fight and cultivate their ground at the same time, and they now thought of abandoning so unhospitable a land; the more so as, discovering that the Cherokees were more than a match for them in the field, a system of incendiarism and plunder was resorted to, which proved more disastrous to the Cherokees than the previous open warfare.

The Cherokees wisely reflected, that as long as the inhabitants of the Western States would entertain the hope of plunder and booty, they would constantly pour upon them their worthless population. They, therefore, destroyed their farms and their bridges; and collecting their horses and cattle, they retreated upon the Red River among their own people. The Cherokee campaign is a topic of much boasting among the Texans, as they say they expelled the Indians from their country; but a fact, which they are not anxious to publish, is, that for every Cherokee killed, twenty Texans bit the dust.

Since that period the Cherokees, Choctaws, and Creeks have had several war councils, and I doubt not that they are only waiting for an opportunity to retaliate, and will eventually sweep off the entire eastern population of Texas.

The fact is, that a democratic form of government is powerless when the nation is so utterly depraved. Austin, the father of Texan colonization, quitted the country in disgust. Houston, whose military talents and well-known courage obtained for him the presidency, has declared his intention to do the same, and to retire to the United States, to follow up his original profession of a lawyer. Such is the demoralized state of Texas at the present moment; what it may hereafter be is in the womb of Time.



CHAPTER XXXII.

We had now entered the white settlements of the Sabine river, and found, to our astonishment, that, far from arriving at civilization, we were receding from it; the farms of the Wakoes and well-cultivated fields of the Pawnee-Picts, their numerous cattle and comfortable dwellings, were a strong contrast to the miserable twelve-feet-square mud-and-log cabins we passed by. Every farmer we met was a perfect picture of wretchedness and misery; their women dirty and covered with rags, which could scarcely conceal their nudity; the cattle lean and starving; and the horses so weak that they could scarcely stand upon their legs.

Where was the boasted superiority of the Texans over the Indian race? or were these individuals around us of that class of beings who, not daring to reside within the jurisdiction of the law, were obliged to lead a borderer's life, exposed to all the horrors of Indian warfare and famine? Upon inquiry, we discovered that these frontier men were all, more or less, eminent members of the Texan Republic, one being a general, another a colonel; some speakers of the House of Representatives; and many of them members of Congress, judges, and magistrates. Notwithstanding their high official appointments, we did not think it prudent to stop among them, but pushed on briskly, with our rifles across the pommels of our saddles; indeed, from the covetous eyes which these magistrates and big men occasionally cast upon our horses and saddle-bags, we expected at every moment that we should be attacked.

A smart ride of two hours brought us to a second settlement, which contrasted most singularly with the first. Here, all the houses were neat and spacious, with fine barns and stables; the fields were well enclosed, and covered with a green carpet of clover, upon which were grazing cattle and horses of a superior breed.

This sight of comfort and plenty restored our confidence in civilization, which confidence we had totally lost at the first settlement we had fallen in with; and perceiving, among others, a dwelling surrounded with gardens arranged with some taste, we stopped our horses and asked for accommodation for ourselves and beasts. Three or four smart young boys rushed out, to take care of our horses, and a venerable old man invited us to honour his hearth. He was a Mormon, and informed us that hundreds of farmers belonging to that sect had established themselves in East Texas, at a short distance from each other, and that, if we were going to travel through the Arkansas, and chose to do so, we could stop every other day at a Mormon farm, until we arrived at the southern borders of the state of Missouri.

We resolved to avail ourselves of this information, anticipating that every Mormon dwelling would be as clean and comfortable as the one we were in; but we afterwards found out our mistake, for, during the fifteen days' journey which we travelled between the Sabine and a place called Boston, we stopped at six different Mormon farms, either for night or for noon meals, but, unlike the first, they were anything but comfortable or prosperous. One circumstance, however, attracted particularly our attention; it was, that, rich or poor, the Mormon planters had superior cattle and horses, and that they had invariably stored up in their granaries or barns the last year's crop of everything that would keep. Afterwards I learned that these farmers were only stipendiary agents of the elders of the Mormons, who, in the case of a westward invasion being decided upon by Joe Smith and his people, would immediately furnish their army with fresh horses and all the provisions necessary for a campaign.

One morning we met with a Texan constable going to arrest a murderer. He asked us what o'clock it was, as he had not a watch, and told us that a few minutes' ride would bring us to Boston, a new Texan city. We searched in vain for any vestiges which could announce our being in the vicinity of even a village; at last, however, emerging from a swamp, through which we had been forcing our way for more than an hour, we descried between the trees a long building, made of the rough logs of the black pine, and as we advanced, we perceived that the space between the logs (about six inches) had not been filled up, probably to obtain a more free circulation of air. This building, a naked negro informed us, was Ambassadors' Hall, the great and only hotel of Texan Boston.

Two hundred yards farther we perceived a multitude of individuals swarming around another erection of the same description, but without a roof, and I spurred on my horse, believing we should be in time to witness some cockfighting or a boxing-match; but my American fellow-travellers, better acquainted with the manners and customs of the natives, declared it was the "Court-House." As we had nothing to do there, we turned our horses' heads towards the tavern, and the barking of a pack of hungry dogs soon called around us a host of the Bostonians.

It is strange that the name of city should be given to an unfinished log-house, but such is the case in Texas; every individual possessing three hundred acres of land calls his lot a city, and his house becomes at once the tavern, the post-office, the court-house, the gaol, the bank, the land-office, and, in fact, everything. I knew a man near the Red River, who had obtained from government an appointment of postmaster, and during the five years of his holding the office, he had not had a single letter in his hand.

This city mania is a very extraordinary disease in the United States, and is the cause of much disappointment to the traveller. In the Iowa territory, I once asked a farmer my way to Dubuque.

"A stranger, I reckon," he answered; "but no matter, the way is plain enough. Now, mind what I say. After you have forded the river, you will strike the military road till you arrive in the prairie; then you ride twenty miles east, till you arrive at Caledonia city; there they will tell you all about it."

I crossed the river, and, after half an hour's fruitless endeavours, I could not find the military road, so I forded back, and returned to my host.

"Law!" he answered; "why, the trees are blazed on each side of the road."

Now, if he had told me that at first, I could not have mistaken, for I had seen the blazing of a bridle-path; but as he had announced a military road, I expected, what it imported, a military road. I resumed my journey and entered the prairie. The rays of the sun were very powerful, and, wishing to water my horse, I hailed with delight a miserable hut, sixteen feet square, which I saw at about half a mile from the trail. In a few minutes I was before the door, and tied my horse to a post, upon which was a square board bearing some kind of hieroglyphics on both sides. Upon a closer inspection, I saw upon one side "Ice," and upon the other, "POSTOFF."

"A Russian, a Swede, or a Norwegian," thought I, knowing that Iowa contained eight or ten thousand emigrants of these countries. "Ice—well, that is a luxury rarely to be found by a traveller in the prairie, but it must be pretty dear; no matter, have some I must."

I entered the hut, and saw a dirty woman half-naked, and slumbering upon a stool, by the corner of the chimney.

"Any milk?" I inquired, rousing her up.

She looked at me and shook her head; evidently she did not understand me; however, she brought me a stone jug full of whisky, a horn tumbler, and a pitcher of water.

"Can you give my horse a pail of water?" I asked again.

The woman bent down her body, and dragging from under the bed a girl of fourteen, quite naked, and with a skin as tough as that of an alligator, ordered her to the well with a large bucket. Having thus provided for my beast, I sat upon a stump that served for a chair, and once more addressed my hostess.

"Now, my good woman, let us have the ice."

"The what?" she answered.

As I could not make her understand what I wanted, I was obliged to drink the whisky with water almost tepid, and my horse being refreshed, I paid my fare and started.

I rode for three hours more, and was confident of having performed twice the distance named by mine host of the morning, and yet the prairie still extended as far as the eye could reach, and I could not perceive the city of Caledonia. Happily, I discovered a man at a distance riding towards me: we soon met.

"How far," said I, "to Caledonia city?"

"Eighteen miles," answered the traveller.

"Is there no farm on the way?" I rejoined, "for my horse is tired."

The horseman stared at me in amazement "Why, Sir," he answered, "you turn your back to it; you have passed it eighteen miles behind."

"Impossible!" I exclaimed: "I never left the trail, except to water my horse at a little hut."

"Well," he answered, "that was at General Hiram Washington Tippet's; he keeps the post-office—why, Sir, that was Caledonia city."

I thanked him, unsaddled my horse, and bivouacked where I was, laughing heartily at my mistake in having asked for ice, when the two sides of the board made post-office.

But I must return to Boston and its court-house. As it was the time of the assizes, some fifty or sixty individuals had come from different quarters, either to witness the proceedings, or to swap their horses, their saddles, their bowie-knife, or anything; for it is while law is exercising its functions that a Texan is most anxious to swap, to cheat, to gamble, and to pick pockets and quarrel under its nose, just to show his independence of all law.

The dinner-bell rang a short time after our arrival, and for the first time in my life I found myself at an American table-d'hote. I was astonished, as an Indian well might be. Before my companions and self had had time to sit down and make choice of any particular dish, all was disappearing like a dream. A general opposite to me took hold of a fowl, and in the twinkling of an eye, severed the wings and legs. I thought it was polite of him to carve for others as well as himself, and was waiting for him to pass over the dish after he had helped himself, when, to my surprise, he retained all he had cut off, and pushed the carcase of the bird away from him. Before I had recovered from my astonishment, his plate was empty. Another seized a plate of cranberries, a fruit I was partial to, and I waited for him to help himself first and then pass the dish over to me; but he proved to be more greedy than the general, for, with an enormous horn spoon, he swallowed the whole.

The table was now deserted by all except by me and my companions, who, with doleful faces, endeavoured to appease our hunger with some stray potatoes. We called the landlord, and asked him for something to eat; it was with much difficulty that we could get half a dozen of eggs and as many slices of salt pork. This lesson was not thrown away upon me; and afterwards, when travelling in the States, I always helped myself before I was seated, caring nothing for my neighbours. Politeness at meals may be and is practised in Europe, or among the Indians, but among the Americans it would be attended with starvation.

After dinner, to kill time, we went to the court-house, and were fortunate enough to find room in a position where we could see and hear all that was going on.

The judge was seated upon a chair, the frame of which he was whittling with such earnestness that he appeared to have quite forgotten where he was. On each side of him were half a dozen of jurymen, squatted upon square blocks, which they were also whittling, judge and jurymen having each a cigar in the mouth, and a flask of liquor, with which now and then they regaled themselves. The attorney, on his legs, addressing the jury, was also smoking, as well as the plaintiff, the defendant, and all the audience. The last were seated, horseback-fashion, upon parallel low benches, for their accommodation, twenty feet long, all turned towards the judge, and looking over the shoulders of the one in front of him, and busily employed in carving at the bench between his thigh and that of his neighbour. It was a very singular coup d'oeil, and a new-comer from Europe would have supposed the assembly to have been a "whittling club."



Having surveyed the company, I then paid attention to the case on trial, and, as I was just behind the defendant, I soon learned how justice was executed in Texas, or, at least, in Texan Boston. It appeared that the defendant was the postmaster and general merchant of the country. Two or three weeks back, the son of the plaintiff had entered his shop to purchase his provision of coffee, sugar, and flour, and had given him to change a good one-hundred-dollar bill of one of the New Orleans banks. The merchant had returned to him a fifty-dollar note and another of ten. Two hours afterwards, the young man, having swapped his horse, carriole, and twenty dollars, for a waggon and two couple of oxen, presented the fifty-dollar note, which was refused as being counterfeited. The son of the plaintiff returned to the merchant, and requested him to give him a good note. The merchant, however, would not: "Why did you take it?" said he; "I be d——d if I give you any other money for it." Upon which the young man declared it was shameful swindling, and the merchant, throwing at him an iron weight of nine pounds, killed him on the spot.

The attorney, who was now pleading for the defendant, was trying to impress upon the jury that the murder had been merely accidental, inasmuch as the merchant had thrown the missile only in sport, just to scare away the fellow who was insulting him in his own house; but, strange to say, no mention was made at all of the note, though everybody knew perfectly well that the merchant had given it, and that it was a part of his trade to pass forged notes among his inexperienced customers. As soon as the lawyer had ended the defence, the merchant was called upon by the judge to give his own version of what occurred. He rose:

"Why," said he, "it was just so as has been said. I wished not to hurt the fellow; but he called me a swindler. Well, I knew the man was in a passion, and I did not care. I only said, 'How dare you, Sir?' and I threw the piece of iron just to frighten him. Well, to be sure, the blackguard fell down like a bull, and I thought it was a humbug. I laughed and said, 'None of your gammon;' but he was dead. I think the thing must have struck something on the way, and so swerved against his head. I wished not to kill the fellow—I be damned if I did."

The jurymen looked at each other with a significant and approving air, which could be translated as accidental death. Gabriel touched the merchant upon the shoulder, "You should have said to him, that you merely wished to kill a musquito upon the wall."

"Capital idea," cried the defendant "I be d——d if it was not a musquito eating my molasses that I wished to kill, after all."

At that moment one of the jurymen approached the merchant, and addressed him in a low voice; I could not hear what passed, but I heard the parting words of the juryman, which were, "All's right!" To this dispenser of justice succeeded another; indeed, all the jurymen followed in succession, to have a little private conversation with the prisoner. At last the judge condescended to cease his whittling, and come to make his own bargain, which he did openly:

"Any good saddles, Fielding? mine looks rather shabby."

"Yes, by Jingo, a fine one, bound with blue cloth, and silver nails—Philadelphia-made—prime cost sixty dollars."

"That will do," answered the judge, walking back to his seat.

Ten minutes afterwards the verdict of manslaughter was returned against the defendant, who was considered, in a speech from the judge, sufficiently punished by the affliction which such an accident must produce to a generous mind. The court broke up, and Fielding, probably to show how deep was his remorse, gave three cheers, to which the whole court answered with a hurrah, and the merchant was called upon to treat the whole company: of course he complied, and they all left the court-house. Gabriel and I remained behind. He had often tried to persuade me to abandon my ideas of going to the States and Europe, pointing out to me that I should be made a dupe and become a prey to pretended well-wishers. He had narrated to me many incidents of his own life, of his folly and credulity, which had thrown him from an eminent station in civilized society, and had been the cause of our meeting in the Western World. He forewarned me that I should be disappointed in my expectations, and reap nothing but vexation and disappointment. He knew the world too well. I knew nothing of it, and I thought that he was moved by bitterness of spirit to rail so loud against it. He would fain persuade me to return with him to my own tribe of Shoshones, and not go in search of what I never should obtain. He was right, but I was obstinate. He did not let pass this opportunity of giving me a lesson.

"You have now witnessed," said he, "a sample of justice in this soi-disant civilized country. Two hundred dollars perhaps, have cleared a murderer; ten millions would not have done it among the Shoshones."

"But Texas is not Europe," replied I.

"No," said Gabriel, "it is not; but in Europe, as in Texas, with money you can do anything, without money nothing."

At that moment we perceived a man wrapt in his blanket, and leaning against a tree.

He surveyed the group receding to the tavern, and the deepest feelings of hatred and revenge were working evidently within him. He saw us not, so intense were his thoughts. It was the plaintiff whose son had been murdered. Gabriel resumed.

"Now, mark that man; he was the plaintiff, the father of the young fellow so shamefully plundered and murdered; he is evidently a poor farmer, or the assassin would have been hung. He is now brooding over revenge; the law gave not justice, he will take it into his own hands, and he will probably have it to-night, or to-morrow. Injustice causes crime, and ninety-nine out of a hundred are forced into it by the impotency of the law; they suffer once, and afterwards act towards others as they have been acted by. That man may have been till this day a good, industrious, and hospitable farmer; to-night he will be a murderer, in a week he will have joined the free bands, and will then revenge himself upon society at large, for the injustice he has received from a small portion of the community."

Till then I had never given credit to my friend for any great share of penetration, but he prophesied truly. Late in the night the father announced his intention of returning to his farm, and entered the general sleeping-room of the hotel to light a cigar. A glance informed him of all that he wished to know. Forty individuals were ranged sleeping in their blankets, alongside of the walls, which, as I have observed, were formed of pine logs, with a space of four or six inches between each: parallel with the wall, next to the yard, lay the murderer Fielding.

The father left the room, to saddle his horse. An hour afterwards the report of a rifle was heard, succeeded by screams and cries of "Murder! help! murder!" Every one in the sleeping-room was up in a moment, lights were procured, and the judge was seen upon his knees with his hands upon his hinder quarters; his neighbour Fielding was dead, and the same ball which had passed through his back and chest had blazed the bark off the nether parts of this pillar of Texan justice.

When the first surprise was over, pursuit of the assassin was resolved upon, and then it was discovered that, in his revenge, the father had not lost sight of prudence. All the horses were loose; the stable and the court-house, as well as the bar and spirit-store of the tavern, were in flames. While the Bostonians endeavoured to steal what they could, and the landlord was beating his negroes, the only parties upon whom he could vent his fury, our companions succeeded in recovering their horses, and at break of day, without any loss but the gold watch of the doctor, which had probably been stolen from him during his sleep, we started for the last day's journey which we had to make in Texas.

As we rode away, nothing remained of Texan Boston except three patches of white ashes, and a few half-burnt logs, nor do I know if that important city has ever been rebuilt.



CHAPTER XXXIII.

We were now about twenty miles from the Red River, and yet this short distance proved to be the most difficult travelling we had experienced for a long while. We had to cross swamps, lagoons, and canebrakes, in which our horses were bogged continually; so that at noon, and after a ride of six hours, we had only gained twelve miles. We halted upon a dry knoll, and there, for the first time since the morning, we entered into conversation; for, till then, we had been too busy scrutinizing the ground before our horses' feet. I had a great deal to say both to Gabriel and to Roche; we were to part the next morning,—they to return to the Comanches and the Shoshones, I to go on to the Mormons, and perhaps to Europe.

I could not laugh at the doctor's bon mots, for my heart was full; till then, I had never felt how long intercourse, and sharing the same privations and dangers, will attach men to each other; and the perspective of a long separation rendered me gloomier and gloomier, as the time we still had to pass together became shorter.

Our five American companions had altered their first intention of travelling with me through the Arkansas. They had heard on the way, that some new thriving cities had lately sprung up on the American side of the Red River; the doctor was already speculating upon the fevers and agues of the ensuing summer; the parson was continually dreaming of a neat little church and a buxom wife, and the three lawyers, of rich fees from the wealthy cotton planters. The next day, therefore, I was to be alone, among a people less hospitable than the Indians, and among whom I had to perform a journey of a thousand miles on horseback, constantly on the outskirts of civilization, and consequently exposed to all the dangers of border travelling.

When we resumed our march through the swampy cane-brake, Gabriel, Roche, and I kept a little behind our companions.

"Think twice, whilst it is yet time," said Gabriel to me, "and believe me, it is better to rule over your devoted and attached tribe of Shoshones than to indulge in dreams of establishing a western empire; and, even if you will absolutely make the attempt, why should we seek the help of white men? what can we expect from them and their assistance but exorbitant claims and undue interference? With a few months' regular organization, the Comanches, Apaches, and Shoshones can be made equal to any soldiers of the civilized world, and among them you will have no traitors."

I felt the truth of what he said, and for a quarter of an hour I remained silent. "Gabriel," replied I at last, "I have now gone too far to recede, and the plans which I have devised are not for my own advantage, but for the general welfare of the Shoshones and of all the friendly tribes. I hope to live to see them a great nation, and, at all events, it is worth a trial."

My friend shook his head mournfully; he was not convinced, but he knew the bent of my temper, and was well aware that all he could say would now be useless.

The natural buoyancy of our spirits would not, however, allow us to be grave long; and when the loud shouts of the doctor announced that he had caught a sight of the river, we spurred our horses, and soon rejoined our company. We had by this time issued from the swampy canebrakes, and were entering a lane between two rich cotton-fields, and at the end of which flowed the Red River; not the beautiful, clear, and transparent stream running upon a rocky and sandy bed, as in the country inhabited by the Comanches and Pawnee Picts, and there termed the Colorado of the West; but a red and muddy, yet rapid stream. We agreed that we should not ferry the river that evening, but seek a farm, and have a feast before parting company. We learned from a negro, that we were in a place called Lost Prairie, and that ten minutes' ride down the bank of the stream would carry us to Captain Finn's plantation. We received this news with wild glee, for Finn was a celebrated character, one whose life was so full of strange adventures in the wilderness, that it would fill volumes with hair-breadth encounters and events of thrilling interest.

Captain Finn received us with a cordial welcome, for unbounded hospitality is the invariable characteristic of the older cotton planters. A great traveller himself, he knew the necessities of a travelling life, and, before conducting us to the mansion, he guided us to the stables, where eight intelligent slaves, taking our horses, rubbed them down before our eyes, and gave them a plentiful supply of fodder and a bed of fresh straw.

"That will do till they are cool," said our kind host; "to-night they will have their grain and water; let us now go to the old woman and see what she can give us for supper."

A circumstance worthy of remark is, that, in the western states, a husband always calls his wife the old woman, and she calls him the old man, no matter how young the couple may be. I have often heard men of twenty-five sending their slaves upon some errand "to the old woman," who was not probably more than eighteen years old. A boy of ten years calls his parents in the same way. "How far to Little Rock?" I once asked of a little urchin; "I don't know," answered he, "but the old ones will tell you." A few yards farther I met the "old ones;" they were both young people, not much more than twenty.

In Mrs. Finn we found a stout and plump farmer's wife, but she was a lady in her manners. Born in the wilderness, the daughter of one bold pioneer and married to another, she had never seen anything but woods, canebrakes, cotton, and negroes, and yet, in her kindness and hospitality, she displayed a refinement of feeling and good breeding. She was daughter of the celebrated Daniel Boone, a name which has acquired a reputation even in Europe. She immediately ransacked her pantry, her hen-roost, and garden, and when we returned from the cotton-mill, to which our host, in his farmer's pride, had conducted us, we found, upon an immense table, a meal which would have satisfied fifty of those voracious Bostonians whom we had met with the day before at the table d'hote.

Well do I recollect her, as she stood before us on that glorious evening, her features beaming with pleasure, as she witnessed the rapidity with which we emptied our plates. How happy she would look when we praised her chickens, her honey, and her coffee; and then she would carve and cut, fill again our cups, and press upon us all the delicacies of the Far West borders, delicacies unknown in the old countries; such as fried beaver-tail, smoked tongue of the buffalo-calf, and (the gourmand's dish par excellence) the Louisiana gombo. Her coffee, too, was superb, as she was one of the few upon the continent of America who knew how to prepare it.

After our supper, the captain conducted us under the piazza attached to the building, where we found eight hammocks suspended, as white as snow. There our host disinterred from a large bucket of ice several bottles of Madeira, which we sipped with great delight: the more so as, for our cane pipes and cheap Cavendish, Finn substituted a box of genuine Havanna cazadores. After our fatigues and starvation, it was more than comfortable—it was delightful. The doctor vowed he would become a planter, the parson asked if there were any widows in the neighbourhood, and the lawyers inquired if the planters of the vicinity were any way litigious. By the bye, I have observed that Captain Finn was a celebrated character. As we warmed with the Madere frappe a glace, we pressed him to relate some of his wild adventures, with which request he readily complied; for he loved to rehearse his former exploits, and it was not always that he could narrate them to so numerous an assembly. As the style he employed could only be understood by individuals who have rambled upon the borders of the Far West, I will relate the little I remember in my own way, though I am conscious that the narrative must lose much when told by any one but Finn himself.

When quite an infant, he had been taken by the Indians and carried into the fastnesses of the West Virginian forests: there he had been brought up till he was sixteen years old, when, during an Indian war, he was recaptured by a party of white men. Who were his parents, he could never discover, and a kind Quaker took him into his house, gave him his name, and treated him as his own child, sending him first to school, and then to the Philadelphia college. The young man, however, was little fit for the restrictions of a university; he would often escape and wander for days in the forests, until hunger would bring him home again. At last, he returned to his adopted father, who was now satisfied that his thoughts were in the wilderness, and that, in the bustle of a large city and restraint of civilized life, he would not live, but linger on till he drooped and died.

This discovery was a sad blow to the kind old man, who had fondly anticipated that the youngster would be a kind and grateful companion to him, when age should make him feel the want of friendship; but he was a just man, and reflecting that perhaps a short year of rambling would cure him, he was the first to propose it. Young Finn was grateful; beholding the tears of his venerable protector, he would have remained and attended him till the hour of his death; but the Quaker would not permit him, he gave him his best horse, and furnished him with arms and money. At that time the fame of Daniel Boone had filled the Eastern States, and young Finn had read with avidity the adventures of that bold pioneer. Hearing that he was now on the western borders of Kentucky, making preparations for emigration farther west, into the very heart of the Indian country, he resolved to join him and share the dangers of his expedition.

The life of Boone is too well known for me to describe this expedition. Suffice it to say, that, once in Missouri, Finn conceived and executed the idea of making alone a trip across the Rocky Mountains, to the very borders of the Pacific Ocean. Strange to say, he scarcely remembers anything of that first trip, which lasted eleven months.

The animals had not yet been scared out of the wilderness; water was found twice every day; the vine grew luxuriantly in the forests, and the caravans of the white men had not yet destroyed the patches of plums and nuts which grew wild in the prairies.

Finn says he listened to the songs of the birds, and watched the sport of the deer, the buffaloes, and wild horses, in a sort of dreaming existence, fancying that he heard voices in the streams, in the foliage of the trees, in the caverns of the mountains; his wild imagination sometimes conjuring up strange and beautiful spirits of another world, who were his guardians, and who lulled him asleep every evening with music and perfumes.

I have related this pretty nearly in the very terms of our host, and many of his listeners have remarked, at different times, that when he was dwelling upon that particular portion of his life, he became gloomy and abstracted, as if still under the influence of former indelible impressions. Undoubtedly Captain Finn is of a strong poetical temperament, and any one on hearing him narrate would say the same; but it is supposed that, when the captain performed this first solitary excursion, his brain was affected by an excited and highly poetical imagination. After eleven months of solitude, he reached the Pacific Ocean, and awoke from his long illusion in the middle of a people whose language he could not understand; yet they were men of his colour, kind and hospitable; they gave him jewels and gold, and sent him back east of the mountains, under the protection of some simple and mild-hearted savages. The spot where Finn had arrived was at one of the missions, and those who released him and sent him back were the good monks of one of the settlements in Upper California.

When Finn returned to the Mississippi, his narrative was so much blended with strange and marvellous stories that it was not credited; but when he showed and produced his stock of gold dust in bladders, and some precious stones, fifty different proposals were made to him to guide a band of greedy adventurers to the new western Eldorado. Finn, like Boone, could not bear the society of his own countrymen; he dreaded to hear the noise of their axes felling the beautiful trees; he feared still more to introduce them, like so many hungry wolves, among the good people who knew so well the sacred rites of hospitality.

After a short residence with the old backwoodsman, Finn returned to Virginia, just in time to close the eyes of the kind old Quaker. He found that his old friend had expected his return, for he had sold all his property, and deposited the amount in the hands of a safe banker, to be kept for Finn's benefit. The young wanderer was amazed; he had now ten thousand dollars, but what could he do with so much money? He thought of a home, of love and happiness, of the daughter of old Boone, and he started off to present her with his newly acquired wealth. Finn entered Boone's cottage, with his bags and pocket-books in each hand, and casting his burden into a corner, he entered at once upon the matter.

"Why, I say, old man, I am sure I love the gal."

"She Is a comely and kind girl," said the father.

"I wish she could love me."

"She does."

"Does she? well, I tell you what, Boone, give her to me, I'll try to make her happy."

"I will, but not yet," said the venerable patriarch. "Why, you are both of you mere children; she can't get a house, and how could you support her?"

Finn jumped up with pride and glee. "Look," said he, while he scattered on the floor his bank-notes, his gold, and silver, "that will support her bravely; tell me, old father, that will keep her snug, won't it?"

The pioneer nodded his head. "Finn," answered he, "you are a good young man, and I like you; you think like me; you love Polly, and Polly loves you; mind, you shall have her when you are both old enough; but remember, my son, neither your pieces of money nor your rags of paper will ever keep a daughter of mine. No, no! you shall have Polly, but you must first know how to use the rifle and the axe."

A short time after this interview, Finn started upon another trip to unknown lands, leaving old Boone to make the most he could of his money. Now, the old pioneer, although a bold hunter, and an intrepid warrior, was a mere child in matters of interest, and in less than two months he had lost the whole deposit, the only "gentleman" he ever trusted having suddenly disappeared with the funds. In the meanwhile Finn had gone down the Mississippi, to the thirty-second degree of north latitude, when, entering the western swamps, where no white man had ever penetrated, he forced his way to the Red River, which he reached a little above the old French establishment of Nachitoches. Beyond this point, inland navigation had never been attempted, and Finn, procuring a light dug-out, started alone, with his arms and his blanket, upon his voyage of discovery. During four months he struggled daily against the rapid stream, till he at last reached, in spite of rafts and dangerous eddies, its source at the Rocky Mountains. On his return, a singular and terrible adventure befel him: he was dragging his canoe over a raft, exactly opposite to where now stands his plantation, when, happening to hurt his foot, he lost hold of his canoe. It was on the very edge of the raft, near a ruffled eddy: the frail bark was swamped in a moment, and with it Finn lost his rifle, all his arms, and his blanket[27].

[Footnote 27: Rafts are an assemblage of forest trees, which have been washed down to the river, from the undermining of its banks. At certain points they become interlaced and stationary, stretching right across the river, prevailing the passage of even a canoe.]

Now that cotton grown on the Red River has been acknowledged to be the best in the States, speculators have settled upon both sides of it as far as two hundred miles above Lost Prairie; but at the time that Finn made his excursion, the country was a wilderness of horrible morasses, where the alligators basked unmolested. For months Finn found himself a prisoner at Lost Prairie, the spot being surrounded with impenetrable swamps, where the lightest foot would have sunk many fathoms below the surface. As to crossing the river, it was out of the question, as it was more than half a mile broad, and Finn was no swimmer: even now, no human being or animal can cross it at this particular spot, for so powerful are the eddies, that, unless a pilot is well acquainted with the passage, a boat will be capsized in the whirlpools. Human life can be sustained upon very little, for Finn managed to live for months upon a marshy ground six miles in extent, partially covered with prickly pears, sour grapes, and mushrooms. Birds he would occasionally kill with sticks; several times he surprised tortoises coming on shore to deposit their eggs, and once, when much pressed by hunger, he gave battle to a huge alligator. Fire he had none; his clothes had long been in rags; his beard had grown to a great length, and his nails were sharp as the claws of a wild beast. At last there was a flood in the river, and above the raft Finn perceived two immense pine trees afloat in the middle of the stream. Impelled by the force of the current, they cut through the raft, where the timber was rotten, and then grounded.

This was a chance which Finn lost no time in profiting by; out of the fibrous substance of the prickly pear, he soon manufactured sufficient rope to lash the two trees together, with great labour got them afloat, and was carried down the stream with the speed of an arrow. He succeeded in landing many miles below, on the eastern bank, but he was so bruised, that for many days he was unable to move.

One day a report was spread in the neighbourhood of Port Gibson, that a strange monster, of the ourang-outang species, had penetrated the canebrakes upon the western banks of the Mississippi. Some negroes declared to have seen him tearing down a brown bear; an Arkansas hunter had sent to Philadelphia an exaggerated account of this recently discovered animal, and the members of the academies had written to him to catch the animal, if possible, alive, no matter at what expense. A hunting expedition was consequently formed, hundreds of dogs were let loose in the canebrakes, and the chase began.

The hunters were assembled, waiting till the strange animal should break cover, when suddenly he burst upon them, covered with blood, and followed closely by ten or fifteen hounds. He was armed with a heavy club, with which he now and then turned upon the dogs, crushing them at a blow. The hunters were dumb with astonishment; mounting their horses, they sprang forward to witness the conflict; the brute, on seeing them, gave a loud shout; one of the hunters, being terrified, fired at him with his rifle; the strange animal put one of its hairy paws upon its breast, staggered, and fell; a voice was heard: "The Lord forgive you this murder!"

On coming near, the hunters found that their victim was a man, covered with hair from head to foot; he was senseless, but not dead. They deplored their fatal error, and resolved that no expense or attention should be spared upon the unfortunate sufferer. This hunted beast, this hairy man, was Finn. The wound, not being mortal, was soon cured; but he became crazy, and did not recover his reason for eight months. He related his adventures up to his quitting the Lost Prairie: after which all was a blank. His narrative soon spread all over the States, and land speculators crowded from every part to hear Finn's description of the unknown countries. The government became anxious to establish new settlements in these countries, and Finn was induced to commence the work of colonization by the gift of the "Lost Prairie." Money was also supplied to him, that he might purchase slaves; but before taking possession of his grant, he went to Missouri to visit his old friend, and claim his bride. Her father had been dead for some time, but the daughter was constant.

With his wife, his brother-in-law, his negroes, and several waggons loaded with the most necessary articles, Finn forced his way to Little Rock, on the Arkansas River, whence, after a short repose, he again started in a S.S.W. direction, through a hilly and woody country never before travelled. At last he reached the "Lost Prairie," nothing was heard of him for two years, when he appeared at Nachitoches in a long cow[28] laden with produce.

[Footnote 28: A cow is a kind of floating raft peculiar to the western rivers of America, being composed of immense pine-trees tied together, and upon which a log cabin is erected.]

From Nachitoches Finn proceeded to New Orleans, where the money received for his cotton, furs, and honey enabled him to purchase two more negroes and a fresh supply of husbandry tools. A company was immediately formed, for the purpose of exploring the Red River, as far as it might prove navigable, and surveying the lands susceptible of cultivation. A small steamboat was procured, and its command offered to Finn, who thus became a captain. Although the boat could not proceed higher than Lost Prairie, the result of the survey induced hundreds of planters to settle upon the banks of the river, and Captain Finn lived to become rich and honoured by his countrymen; his great spirit of enterprise never deserted him, and it was he who first proposed to the government to cut through the great rafts which impeded the navigation. His plans were followed, and exploring steamboats have since gone nearly a thousand miles above Captain Finn's plantation at Lost Prairie.



CHAPTER XXXIV.

The next morning our American companions bade us farewell, and resumed their journey; but Captain Finn insisted that Gabriel, Roche, and I should not leave him so soon. He pointed out that my steed would not be able to travel much farther, if I did not give him at least two or three days' repose; as for the horses of my two companions, they had become quite useless, and our host charged himself with procuring them others, which would carry them back to the Comanches.

Captain Finn's hospitality was not, however, so heavily taxed, for during the day a flotilla of fifteen canoes stopped before the plantation, and a dozen of French traders came up to the house. They were intimate friends of the captain, who had known them for a long time, and it fortunately happened that they were proceeding with goods to purchase the furs of the Pawnee Picts. They offered a passage to Gabriel and Roche, who, of course, accepted the welcome proposition. They embarked their saddles with sundry provisions, which the good Mrs. Finn forced upon them, while her hospitable husband, unknown to them, put into the canoes a bale of such articles as he thought would be useful to them during their long journey. The gift, as I afterwards learned, was composed of pistols and holsters, a small keg of powder, bars of lead, new bits and stirrups, and of four Mackinaw blankets.

At last the moment arrived when I was to part with my friends. I felt a bitter pang, and I wept when I found myself alone. However, I consoled myself with the reflection that our separation was not to be a long one, and, cheered up by the captain, I soon overcame the bitterness of the separation. Yet, for months afterwards, I felt lonely and tired of myself; I had never had an idea how painful it is to part from the only few individuals who are attached to you. My worthy host showed much interest in my welfare. As he had some business to transact at the Land Office in the Arkansas, he resolved that he would accompany me two or three days on my journey. Five days after the departure of Gabriel and Roche, we crossed the Red River, and soon arrived at Washington, the only place of any importance in the west of Arkansas.

From Washington to Little Rock, the capital of the state, there is a mail-road, with farms at every fifteen or twenty miles; but the captain informed me they were inhabited by the refuse from other states, and that west of the Mississippi (except in Louisiana and Missouri) it was always safer to travel through the wilderness, and camp out. We accordingly took the back-wood trail, across a hilly and romantic country, entirely mineral, and full of extinct volcanoes. The quantity of game found in these parts is incredible; every ten minutes we would start a band of some twenty turkeys. At all times, deer were seen grazing within rifle-shot, and I don't think that, on our first day's journey over the hills, we met less than twenty bears.

Independent of his love for the wilderness, and his hatred of bowie-knife men, Captain Finn had another reason for not following the mail-road. He had business to transact at the celebrated hot springs, and he had to call on his way upon one of his brothers in-law, a son of Boone, and a mighty hunter, who had settled in the very heart of the mountains, and who made it a rule to take a trip every spring to the Rocky Mountains. The second day, at noon, after a toilsome ascent of a few thousand feet, we arrived at a small clearing on the top of the mountains, where the barking of the dogs and the crowing of the fowls announced the vicinity of a habitation, and, ere many minutes had elapsed, we heard the sharp report of a rifle.

"Young Boone's own, I declare," exclaimed Finn; "'twas I that gave him the tool. I should know its crack amidst a thousand. Now mark me, chief, Boone never misses; he has killed a deer or a bear; if the first, search for a hole between the fifth and sixth rib; if a bear, look in the eye. At all events, the young chap is a capital cook, and we arrive in good time. Did I not-say so? By all the alligators in the swamps! Eh, Boone, my boy, how fares it with ye?"

We had by this time arrived at the spot where the buck lay dead, and near the body was standing the gaunt form of a man, about forty years old, dressed in tanned leather, and standing six feet nine in his mocassins. Though we were within a yard of him, he reloaded his rifle with imperturbable gravity, and it was only when he had finished that job that I could perceive his grim features beaming with a smile.

"Welcome, old boy; welcome, stranger; twice welcome to the hunter's home. I knew somebody was coming, because I saw the pigeons were flying up from the valley below; and as dried venison won't do after a morning trip, why, I took the rifle to kill a beast out of my flock" The hunter grinned at his conceit. "You see," he continued, "this place of mine is a genuine spot for a hunter. Every morning, from my threshold, I can shoot a deer, a bear, or a turkey. I can't abide living in a country where an honest man must toil a whole day for a mouthful of meat; it would never do for me. Down Blackey, down Judith, down dogs. Old boy, take the scalping-knife and skin the beast under the red oak."

This second part of the sentence was addressed to a young lad of sixteen, an inmate of the hunter's cabin; and the dogs, having come to the conclusion that we were not robbers, allowed us to dismount our horses. The cabin was certainly the ne plus ultra of simplicity, and yet it was comfortable. Four square logs supported a board—it was the table; many more were used fauteuils; and buffalo and bear hides, rolled in a corner of the room, were the bedding. A stone jug, two tin cups, and a large boiler completed the furniture of the cabin. There was no chimney: all the cooking was done outside. In due time we feasted upon the hunter's spoil, and, by way of passing the time, Boone related to us his first grizzly bear expedition.

While a very young man, he had gone to the great mountains of the West with a party of trappers. His great strength and dexterity in handling the axe, and the deadly precision of his aim with the rifle, had given him a reputation among his companions, and yet they were always talking to him as if he were a boy, because he had not yet followed the Red-skins on the war-path, nor fought a grizzly bear, which deed is considered quite as honourable and more perilous.

Young Boone waited patiently for an opportunity, when one day he witnessed a terrible conflict, in which one of these huge monsters, although wounded by twenty balls, was so closely pursuing the trappers, his companions, that they were compelled to seek their safety by plunging into the very middle of a broad river. There, fortunately, the strength of the animal failed, and the stream rolled him away. It had been a terrible fight, and for many days the young man would shudder at the recollection; but he could no longer bear the taunts which were bestowed upon him, and, without announcing his intention to his companions, he resolved to leave them and bring back with him the claws of a grizzly bear, or die in the attempt. For two days he watched in the passes of the mountains, till he discovered, behind some bushes, the mouth of a dark cave, under a mass of rocks. The stench which proceeded from it and the marks at the entrance were sufficient to point out to the hunter that it contained the object of his search; but, as the sun had set, he reflected that the beast was to a certainty awake, and most probably out in search of prey. Boone climbed up a tree, from which he could watch the entrance of the cave; having secured himself and his rifle against a fall, by thongs of leather, with which a hunter is always provided, fatigue overpowered him, and he slept.

At morn he was awakened by a growl and a rustling noise below; it was the bear dragging to his abode the carcase of a buck. When he thought that the animal was glutted with flesh, and sleeping, Boone descended the tree, and, leaning his rifle against the rock, he crawled into the cave to reconnoitre. It must have been a terrible moment; but he had made up his mind, and he possessed all the courage of his father: the cave was spacious and dark. The heavy grunt of the animal showed that he was asleep.

By degrees, the vision of Boone became more clear, and he perceived the shaggy mass at about ten feet from him and about twenty yards from the entrance of the cave. The ground under him yielded to his weight, for it was deeply covered with the bones of animals, and more than once he thought himself lost, when rats, snakes, and other reptiles, disturbed by him from their meal, would start away, in every direction, with loud hissing and other noises. The brute, however, never awoke, and Boone, having finished his survey, crawled out from this horrid den to prepare for the attack.

He first cut a piece of pitch-pine, six or seven feet long, then, taking from his pouch a small cake of bees-wax, he wrapped it round one end of the stick, giving it at the extremity the shape of a small cup, to hold some whisky. This done, he re-entered the cavern, turned to his left, fixed his new kind of flambeau upright against the wall, poured the liquor in the wax cup, and then went out again to procure fire. With the remainder of his wax and a piece of cotton twine, he made a small taper, which he lighted, and crawled in again over the bones, shading his light with one hand, till he had applied the flame to the whisky. The liquor was above proof, and as Boone returned and took up his position nearer the entrance, with his rifle, it threw up a vivid flame, which soon ignited the wax and the pitch-pine itself.

The bear required something more than light to awake him from his almost lethargic sleep, and Boone threw bone after bone at him, till the brute woke up, growled with astonishment at the unusual sight before him, and advanced lazily to examine it. The young man had caught up his rifle by the barrel; he took a long and steady aim, as he knew that he must die if the bear was only wounded; and as the angry animal raised his paw to strike down the obnoxious torch, he fired. There was a heavy fall, a groan and a struggle,—the light was extinguished, and all was dark as before. The next morning Boone rejoined his companions as they were taking their morning meal, and, throwing at their feet his bleeding trophies, he said to them, "Now, who will dare to say that I am not a man?"