CHAPTER XXXVI.
From Batesville to the southern Missouri border, the road continues fora hundred miles through a dreary solitude of rocky mountains and pineforests, full of snakes and a variety of game, but without the smallestvestige of civilization. There is not a single blade of grass to befound, except in the hollows, and these are too swampy for a horse toventure upon. Happily, small clear and limpid brooks are passed everyhalf-hour, and I had had the precaution to provide myself, at a farm,with a large bag of maize for my horse. After all, we fared better thanwe should have done at the log huts, and my faithful steed, at allevents, escaped the "ring." What the "ring" is, I will explain tothe reader.
In these countries, it always requires a whole day's smart riding to gofrom one farm to another; and when the traveller is a "raw trotter" or a"green one" (Arkansas denomination for a stranger), the host employs allhis cunning to ascertain if his guest has any money, as, if so, hisobject is to detain him as long as he can. To gain this information,although there are always at home half-a-dozen strong boys to take thehorses, he sends a pretty girl (a daughter, or a niece) to show you thestable and the maize-store. This nymph becomes the traveller'sattendant; she shows him the garden and the pigs, and the stranger'sbedroom, &c. The consequence is, that the traveller becomes gallant, thegirl insists upon washing his handkerchief and mending his jacket beforehe starts the next morning, and by keeping constantly with him, andcontinual conversation, she is, generally speaking, able to find outwhether the traveller has money or not, and reports accordingly.
Having supped, slept, and breakfasted, he pays his bill and asks for hishorse.
"Why, Sir," answers the host, "something is wrong with the animal--he islame."
The traveller thinks it is only a trifle; he starts, and discovers,before he has made a mile, that his beast cannot possibly go on; so hereturns to the farm, and is there detained, for a week perhaps, untilhis horse is fit to travel.
I was once cheated in this very manner, and had no idea that I had beentricked; but, on leaving another farm, on the following day, I found myhorse was again lame. Annoyed at having been delayed so long, Idetermined to go on, in spite of my horse's lameness. I travelled on forthree miles, till at last I met with an elderly man also on horseback.He stopped and surveyed me attentively, and then addressed me:--
"I see youngster, you are a green one."
Now I was in uncommon bad temper that morning, and I answered hisquestion with a "What do you mean, you old fool?"
"Nay, pardon me," he resumed; "I would not insult a stranger. I amGovernor Yell, of this state, and I see that some of my 'clevercitizens' have been playing a trick upon you. If you will allow me, Iwill cure the lameness of your horse in two minutes."
At the mention of his name, I knew I was speaking to a gentleman. Iapologized for my rough rejoinder, and the governor, dismounting, thenexplained to me the mystery of the "ring." Just above my horse's hoof,and well concealed under the hair, was a stout silken thread, tied verytight; this being cut, the horse, in a moment, got rid of his lameness.
As the governor and I parted, he gave me this parental advice:--
"My dear young man," said he, "I will give you a hint, which will enableyou to travel safely through the Arkansas. Beware of pretty girls, andhonest, clever people; never say you are travelling further than fromthe last city to the nearest, as a long journey generally implies thatyou have cash; and, if possible, never put your horse in a stable.Farewell."
The soil in the Arkansas is rocky and mountainous as far as to thewestern border of the state, when you enter upon the great Americandesert, which continues to the other side of the Cimarron, nearly to thefoot of the Cordilleras. The eastern portion of Arkansas, which iswatered by the Mississippi, is an unknown swamp, for there the ground istoo soft even for the light-footed Indian; and, I may say, that thewhole territory contained between the Mississippi and the St. Francisriver is nothing but a continued river-bottom.
It is asserted, on the authority of intelligent residents, that theriver-bottoms of the St. Francis were not subject to be overflowedprevious to the earthquakes of 1811 and 1812, when an extensive tract inthe valley of that river sank to a considerable depth. According toStoddart, who knew nothing of the shocks of 1811, earthquakes have beencommon here from the first settlement of the country; he himselfexperienced several shocks at Kaskaskia, in 1804, by which the soldiersstationed there were aroused from sleep, and the buildings were muchshaken and disjointed. Oscillations still occur with such frequency asto be regarded with indifference by the inhabitants, who familiarly callthem _shakes_. But the earthquakes of 1811 and 1812, which were feltfrom New England to New Orleans, are the only ones known to have leftpermanent traces, although there is every probability that this part ofthe valley of the Mississippi has been much convulsed at former periods.
In 1812 the earth opened in wide chasms, from which columns of water andsand burst forth; hills disappeared, and their sites were occupied bylakes; the beds of the lakes were raised, and their waters flowed off,leaving them dry; the courses of the streams were changed by theelevation of their beds and the falling of their banks; for one wholehour the current of the Mississippi was turned backwards towards itssource, until its accumulated waters were able to break through thebarrier which had dammed them up; boats were dashed on the banks, orsuddenly left dry in the deserted channel, or hurried backwards andforwards with the surging eddies; while in the midst of these awfulchanges, electric fires, accompanied by loud rumblings, flashed throughthe air, which was darkened with clouds and vapour.
In some places, submerged forests and cane-brakes are still visible at agreat depth, on the bottom of lakes, which were then formed. That thecauses of these convulsions were not local, as some have imagined, isevident enough from the fact, that the Azores, the West India Islands,and the northern coast of South America were unusually agitated at thesame time, and the cities of Carracas, Laguayra, and some others weretotally destroyed.
I had been advised not to stop at any house on the borders, and wouldhave proceeded on to Missouri, bivouacking during the night, had it notbeen that the rainy season had just commenced, and it was far frompleasant to pass the night exposed to the most terrific showers of rainthat could be imagined. When I arrived upon the St. Francis river, Ifound myself compelled by the state of the weather to stop at aparson's--I don't know what particular sect he professed to belong to;but he was reputed to be the greatest hypocrite in the world, and the"smartest scoundrel" in the Arkansas.
My horse was put into the stable, my saddle into the hall, and Ibrought my saddle-bags into the sitting-room. Then, as usual, I went tothe well for a purification after my day's ride. To my astonishment, Ifound, on my return, that my saddlebags had already disappeared. I hadin them jewels and money to rather a considerable amount for a person inmy position, and I inquired of a woman cooking in the next room what hadbecome of them. She answered she did not know, but that probably herfather had put them out of the way.
I waited a long while, standing at the door, with no small anxiety, tillat last I perceived the parson crossing an Indian-corn field, and comingtowards the house. I went to meet him, and asked what he had done withmy saddle-bags; to which question he answered angrily, he did not knowwhat I meant; that I had no saddle-bags when I came to his house; thathe suspected I was a knowing one, but could not come round so old a foxas he was.
As by that time I was perfectly _au fait_ to all the tricks of Arkansassmartness, I returned to the hall, took my pistols from the holsters,placed them in my belt, and, seizing my rifle, I followed his trail uponthe soft ground of the fields. It led me to a corn-house, and there,after an hour's search, I found my lost saddle-bags. I threw them uponmy shoulders, and returned to the house just as a terrible shower hadcommenced. When within fifteen yards from the threshold, the parson,with his wife and daughter, a pretty girl of sixteen, in tears, came upto me to apologize. The mother declared the girl would be the death ofher, and the parson informed
me, with great humility, that his daughter,having entered the room, and seeing the saddle-bags, had taken andhidden them, believing that they belonged to her sweetheart, who wasexpected on a visit. Upon this, the girl cried most violently, sayingshe only wished to play a trick to Charley. She was an honest girl,and no thief.
I thought proper to pretend to be satisfied with this explanation andordered my supper, and, shortly afterwards, to my great relief, newguests arrived; they were four Missourian planters, returning home froma bear-hunt in the swamps of the St. Francis. One of them was a Mr.Courtenay, to whom I had a letter from Captain Finn, and, before the dayhad closed, I received a cordial invitation to go and stay with him forat least a week.
As he spoke French, I told him, in that language, my saddle-bagadventure; he was not surprised, as he was aware of the character of ourhost. It was arranged that Mr. Courtenay and I should sleep in adouble-bedded room on the first floor; the other hunters wereaccommodated in another part of the house. Before retiring for thenight, they all went to visit their horses, and the young girl took thatopportunity to light me to the room.
"Oh, Sir," she said to me, after she had closed the door, "pray do nottell the other travellers what I did, or they would all say that I amcourting Charley, and my character would be lost."
"Mark me," replied I, "I have already told the story, and I know theCharley story is nothing but a--what your father ordered you to say.When I went to the corn-house, the tracks I followed were those made byyour father's heavy boots, and not by your light pumps and small feet.The parson is a villain; tell him that; and if it were not too muchtrouble, I would summon him before some magistrate."
The girl appeared much shocked, and I repented my harshness, and wasabout to address her more kindly, when she interrupted me.
"Spare me, Sir," she said, "I know all; I am so unhappy; if I had but aplace to go to, where I could work for bread, I would do it in a minute,for here I am very, very miserable."
At that moment the poor girl heard the footsteps of the hunters,returning from the stable, and she quitted me in haste.
When Mr. Courtenay entered the room, he told me he expected that theparson was planning some new iniquity, for he had seen him just thencrossing the river in a dug-out. As everything was to be feared from therascal, after the circumstance of the saddle-bags, we resolved that wewould keep a watch; we dragged our beds near the window, and lay downwithout undressing.
To pass away the time, we talked of Captain Finn and of the Texans. Mr.Courtenay related to me a case of negro-stealing by the same GeneralJohn Meyer, of whom my fellow companion, the parson, had already talkedso much while we travelling in Texas. One winter, Mr. Courtenay,returning from the East, was stopped In Vincennes (Indiana) by thedepth of the snow, which for a few days rendered the roads impassable.There he saw a very fine breed of sheep, which he determined tointroduce upon his plantation; and hearing that the general would becoming down the river in a large flat boat as soon as the ice wouldpermit, he made an agreement with him that he should bring a dozen ofthe animals to the plantation, which stood a few miles below the mouthof the Ohio, on the other side of the Mississippi.
Meyer made his bargain, and two months afterwards delivered the livestock, for which he received the price agreed upon. Then he askedpermission to encamp upon Mr. Courtenay's land, as his boat had receivedsome very serious injury, which could not be repaired under five or sixdays. Mr. Courtenay allowed Meyer and his people to take shelter in abrick barn, and ordered his negroes to furnish the boat-men withpotatoes and vegetables of all descriptions.
Three or four days afterwards he was astonished by, several of hisslaves informing him the general had been tampering with them, sayingthey were fools to remain slaves, when they could be as free as whitemen, and that if they would come down the river with him, he would takethem to Texas, where he would pay them twenty dollars a month fortheir labour.
Courtenay advised them, by all means, to seem to accede to theproposition, and gave them instructions as to how they were to act. Hethen despatched notes to some twenty neighbours, requesting them to cometo the plantation, and bring their whips with them, as they wouldbe required.
Meyer having repaired his boats, came to return thanks, and to announcehis departure early on the following morning. At eleven o'clock, when hethought everybody in the house was asleep, he hastened, with two of hissons, to a lane, where he had made an appointment with the negroes tomeet him and accompany him to his boat, which was ready to start. Hefound half-a-dozen of the negroes, and, advising them not to speakbefore they were fairly off the plantation, desired them to follow himto the boat; but, to his astonishment, he soon discovered that the lanewas occupied with other negroes and white men, armed with themuch-dreaded cow-hides. He called out to his two sons to fly, but it wastoo late.
The general and his two sons were undoubtedly accustomed to suchdisasters, for they showed amazing dexterity in taking advantage of theangles of the fences, to evade the lashes: but, in spite of all theirdevices, they were cruelly punished, as they had nearly a quarter of amile of gauntlet to run through before they were clear of the lane. Invain they groaned, and swore, and prayed; the blows fell thicker andthicker, principally from the hands of the negroes, who, having now andthen tasted of the cow-hide, were in high glee at the idea of floggingwhite men.
The worshipful general and his dutiful sons at last arrived at theirboat, quite exhausted, and almost fainting under the agony of thewell-applied lashes. Once on board, they cut their cable, and pushedinto the middle of the stream; and although Meyer had come down theriver at least ten times since, he always managed to pass the plantationduring night, and close to the bank of the opposite shore.
I told Mr. Courtenay what I knew myself about General John Meyer; whileI was talking, his attention was attracted by a noise near the stables,which were situated at the bottom of a lane, before our windows. Weimmediately suspected that there would be an attempt to steal ourhorses; so I handed my rifle to my companion, who posted himself in aposition commanding the lane, through which the thief or thieves mustnecessarily pass.
We waited thus in suspense for a few minutes, till Mr. Courtenay desiredme to take his place, saying,--
"If any one passes the lane with any of our horses, shoot him; I will godown myself and thrash the blackguard, for I suspect the parson willturn them into the swamps, where he is pretty certain of recovering themafterwards."
Saying this, he advanced to the door, and was just putting has hand uponthe latch, when we heard a most terrific yell, which was followed by aneighing, which I recognized as that of my horse. Taking our pistols andbowie-knives, we hurried down the lane.
We found that our two horses, with a third, belonging to one of thehunters, were out of the stable, and tied neck and tail, so as torequire only one person to lead them. The first one had the bridle on,and the last, which was mine, was in a state of excitement, as ifsomething unusual had happened to him. On continuing our search, wefound the body of a young man, most horribly mangled, the breast beingentirely open, and the heart and intestines hanging outside.
It appeared that my faithful steed, which had already shown, in Texas, agreat dislike to being taken away from me, had given the thief theterrible kick, which had thrown him ten or fifteen yards, as I have saida mangled corpse. By this time, the other hunters came out to us; lightswere procured, and then we learned that the victim was the parson'seldest son, newly married, and settled on the east side of the St.Francis. The parson was not long himself in making his appearance; buthe came from an opposite direction to that of the house, and he wasdressed as on the evening before: he had evidently not been to bedduring that night.
As soon as he became aware of the melancholy circumstance, he raved andswore that he would have the lives of the damned Frenchman and hisdamnation horse; but Mr. Courtenay went to him, and said--
"Hold your tongue, miserable man! See your own work, for you have causedthis death. It was to fetch your son, to help you
to steal the horses,that you crossed the river in the dug-out. Be silent, I say; you knowme; look at your eldest-born, villain that you are! May the chain ofyour future misery be long, and the last link of it the gibbet, whichyou deserve!"
The parson was silent, even when his sobbing wife reproached him. "Iwarned thee, husband," she said; "even now has this come, and I fearthat worse is still to come. Unlucky was the hour we met: still more sowhen the child was born;" and, leaning against the fence, shewept bitterly.
I will pass over the remainder of this melancholy scene. We all felt forthe mother and the poor girl, who stood by with a look of despair.Saddling our horses, Mr. Courtenay and I resumed our journey, thehunters remaining behind till the arrival of the magistrate, whom wepromised to send. To procure one, we were obliged to quit the high road,and, after a ride of several miles, having succeeded in finding hishouse, we woke him, gave him the necessary directions, and, at sunrise,forded the river.