Miitiiini.i ■inHiininii;! ■■"MMiMitni' lUtiiitiMHn' .VAVrVi'iVAViV,''. lunfrifiiinii y I M ; I [ } i I n ■ 1 ! P ;• 1 ! 1 1 1 K M n ! r JpJLiutmi'Kuiii ^TlAilllilllH I IIIIIFmi 1 II 1 1 ,1 1,1 1 1,1 i i 1 1 II I ', ■iini numii m iiMmmminNi mi "! lIMMH III t II mil ! I \ h iiniii I Mill I ni iiiiu iiiiniii .iiliiiiinuniii llllUIIMIMinHII '■•■ITIIHII' lltMl DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY The Glenn Negley Collection of Utopian Literature JBo flr-d FL /^nd <: I Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from Duke University Libraries http://www.archive.org/details/kaloolahorjourneOOmayo ALVORD, PRINT. >'. T w KALOOLAH, OR JOUMEYINGS TO THE DJEBEL KUMRI: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JONATHAN ROME R. B PITB P BY W. S. MAYO, M. D. NEW-YORK : GEORGE P. PUTNAM, 165 BROADWAY. LONDON: DAVID BOGUE, 86 FLEET-STREET. 1849. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by W. S. MAYO, M. D. In the Clerk's office of the District Court for the Southern District of New- York. Printed and Stereotyped by D. PANSHAW. 35 Ann-sti-eet, New-York. TO MRS. MARIA MAYO SCOTT. Madam : There are, I presume, a few " good-natured " people in the world who will be ready to attribute this dedica- tion to a desire merely of connecting my name, however remotely or indirectly, with that of your illustrious hus- band — the Hero of Niagara and Mexico. There are some, also, who, deceived by the identity of our family names, may kindly give me credit, unless I put in this disclaimer, for a disposition to parade a relationship that does not exist. All, however, who have the honor of your friendship, will do my motives justice, inasmuch as they can readily comprehend the inducements to pay a compliment, where the highest terms of complimenf 308524 DEDICATION. are but the words of soberness and truth. They, at least, will find no dijBBiculty in believing that I avail my- self of your permission to inscribe to you the following pages, solely because it afibrds me an opportunity of expressing my appreciation of your many high qualities — your literary taste ; cultivated conversational talent ; happy grace of manner, and kindness of heart. Your obedient Servant, THE EDITOR. New-York, May 25, 1849. PREFACE. The following letter, will best explain the way in which these pages came into the editor's hands, and the degree of credit that may be fairly given to them as an authentic record of the travels and adventures of a young American. Dear Doctor : You must know that I have recently come into the possession of a manu- script, purporting to be the travels and adventures of a young American, in various parts of the world, but mainly in the deserts of Africa, and in the un- known, and hitherto unvisited countries south of the Soudan. The manuscript strikes me as being curious, interesting, and apparently authentic ; but I have so little confidence in my own judgment, in such matters, that after a deal of patient and painful cogitation upon the subject, I find myself utterly unable 10 decide two questions that present themselves, to wit, is it worth publish- ing? and if so, what will be the best manner of giving it to the world? But first let me explain how the manuscript came into my possession. You have heard of Salee, I suppose ; or rather, of the Salee Rovers, who not many years since swept the Atlantic from Tercera to TenerifFe, and (with a degree of boldness that made them the bug-a-boos of crjing babies for miles inland) carried their bloody swallow-tail pendants up the English channel, and even through the intricate passages of the Skagerrack and Cattegat. You have heard of these rascals, and of their town ; but perhaps you would have to refer to your geography, or to a gazetteer ; for the fact that it is situated at the o A Q r; 9 a Vi PREFACE. mouth of the Buregreb, exactly opposite the flourishing town of Rabat, and precisely one himdred and twenty miles from the straits of Hercules, down the Atlantic coast of the dominions of Muley Abderhaimiiau. Now in this particular, to wit, the aspect and topography of Salee and its environs, I have the advan- tage of you ; for it so happens that, once upon a time, I was under its walls, and in momentary expectation of entering its gates, when I was advised that, ow- ing to the fanaticism and ferocity of the inhabitants of the dilapidated town, it would be unsafe to enter, and that we must make a detour by the walls to reach the ferry and cross to Rabat. Passing the lofty arches of an ancient aqueduct, my guides hurried me along a road at the bottom of the ditch, with the crumbling walls on one hand, and the crest of the cactus-covered glacis on the other, until we debouched upon a broad reach of sand, which has filled up the port of the once famous town, and diverted the channel of the river to its rival Rabat. The liberalizing influences of commerce are nowhere better to be seen than in its effect upon the character and manners of the people of Rabat. In the one — a flourishing town, where reside many Moorish and Jewish merchants who have intimate relations with the rock of Gibraltar, Marseilles and Leg- horn — a christian can pass through the streets under the protection of a Moor- ish guide, without any great danger of violence from the manifestations of holy hatred with which the pious people look upon the dog of an unbeliever ; in the other — a dilapidated town, whose inhabitants have nothing (spinning haicks and tanning goat-skins excepted) to do but to nurse their prejudices and dream of the glorious days when a hundred plunder-laden feluccas and polaccas crowded the now sand-choaked harbor; and the groans of ten thousand cursed Kaflircaptives resounded through the capacious vaults of the water wall and bastions ; anything in cravat, coat and pantaloons, runs an imminent risk of life. In the one, the booted and bevered stranger has thrown at him dark scowls and sinister grins, in the other, he is sure to be pelted with stones — in the one he is spit at, in the other he is spit upon — in the one, he gets merely curses, in the other he is sure to get kicks — in the one, a single guard protects him from personal violence, iu PREFACE. Vii the other, it may be questioned whether the Sultan's crack regiment, said to be composed wholly of his own sons, would be able to preserve an inch of Chris- tian skin intact. Strange that there should be such a difference between the inhabitants of two places, situated not more than five or six hundred yards apart. Arriving at Rabat, I found an order from the court, requiring me to stop until I could explain more satisfactorily the object of my journey. As I after- wards found, commercial jealousy had been aroused, and representations made to the Emperor, that under the pretence of travelling for amusement, I in rea- lity concealed some deep political designs. The suspicion of the most suspicious, ignorant and bigoted court in the world once excited, there was an end to my visions of a gilt edged Morocco bound volume, entitled, '* Itineratings in the Atlas," or some other fanciful and taking title. The recollection of the Spanish impostor, who, about forty years since, under the name of Ali Bey, and disguised (christian dog that he was) in the garb of the faithful, made his way to the capital, and afterwards perpetrated a book of travels, is still fresh in the minds of the Moors ; and next to a spy of the French government, the last person they would like to see perambulating the country, would be a gentleman sus- pected of paper spoiling propensities, in searcli of the novel and the picturesque. At an audience with the governor of the town, I found that my return was equally impossible — not that I was positively prohibited from going back, but it was respectfully intimated, that could I persuade my guards and muleteers to accompany me, they would have every particle of skin cut from their backs with thongs of bull's hide. There was no resource but to send a courier to the court, and quietly await an answer, which I did, with somewhat of the feeling of the worthy nephew of Gil Perez, when he found himself caught in the cave, like a rat in a trap. A walk through the town, and a visit to the towers and battlements of the Kassbah, sufficed to pass the first day. A ride in the environs, and an ex- amination of Sma Hassan, a superb square tower, said to have been built by the architect of the Geralda of Seville, answered for the second. The third viii PREFACE. day I amused myself mainly with an examination of the town of Salee, through my pocket telescope — the distance was so small that I could see every stone of the towers, matchicolated with storks nests, and every crevice of the dilapidated curtains connectmg them. Was it fancy, or did the breeze really waft to my ears a faint echo of the million sighs and groans, that years past, were home upon every blast of the sea-breeze around those cruel walls? I could hardly tell, but one thing, at least, I made sure of, and that was, that on the beach, between the river and the water gate, there was any quantity of long-legged bipeds, of the snipe genus — tall fellows, standing a foot high, at least, without counting the depth of their tracks. So on the fourth day I shoul- dered my gun, hired a boat, and had myself rowed across to a retired spot, some distance below the ferry. I expected sport, but I must say that I was wholly unprepared for such kind of sport. It was almost impossible to get a shot at them, they were so tame. No sooner would I succeed in raising a fel- low by poking him up with the muzzle of my gun, than, before I could draw trigger down he would pop right at my feet, with an air as much as to say, wring my neck if you please, but don't fire At the first shot all Salee was alive, and a hundred vagabonds poked their dirty noses from the arches of the water gate. Before they could reach me, I picked up my birds, stepped into the boat, and paddled back to Rabat. When all was quiet, I ventured across again, took another shot, stirred up the old pirates' nest, bagged my bird, and made a similar retreat. This interesting operation I repeated half a dozen times in the course of the day, the game improving each tune in shyness, and pro- mising great sport in a day or two, when its caution, so long in abeyance, should have become thoroughly aroused. But an end was put to my sporting calculations, when, upon displaying my spoils at night, I found that my worthy Jewish host, who was a strict constructionist of the law, would have nothing to do with them, and that he would not even permit the desecration of his only stew pan by the blood of birds that had not been slaughtered, per formam the- ologicam. The resources of the place, thus completely exhausted, the fifth day hung PREFACE. IX heavy. I could do nothing but pace up and down the narrow precincts of the paved courtyard ; the Bashaw having sent me, with a present of grapes and figs, an intimation that I had better not expose myself so much on the roof and m the streets, least some kief-smoking, hashschese-eating behever should, ui his delirium, take it into his head to make of my person a target for ball prac- tice, and thus win heaven for himself by sending me to the devil. " Haven't you a book of any kind ?" I inquired of my host, Isaac Ben- shemole. " Not one; Rabbi Yacob Benolile, however, has several ; I will go down to the Millah, or Jews' Quarter, and borrow them for you." " Do so. If he hasn't any Spanish or latin books, bring anything that he has ; Syriac, Coptic, anything. I feel as if I could read an Egyptian papyrus or a Runic tombstone." The worthy representative of the two great commercial powers, England and America, started off on his errand; but in a moment he returned, and put- ting his head in at the door, exclaimed, " Maniiscritos, senor ?"' " Certainly, manuscripts or printed books ; anything to read," I replied. " Well, then, seiior, I now bethink me that I have two manuscripts ;" and drawing aside a curtain from a dark recess, Isaac produced from a dusty shelf a large bundle, enveloped in a fragment of an old Moorish haick. Upon exami- nation it was found to contain two stout rolls of paper: one of these, with a very ancient appearance, and fish-like smell, proved to be the log-book of a Portu- guese mLstico, and besides the usual notices of courses and winds, contained several accounts current with the crew for oil, garlic, salt fish, and Jew bran- dy, with frequent memorandums of cargo, custom house payments, and port charges. The other was a much cleaner, and newer piece of writing, in a cha- racter that I at once concluded to be beyond my skill to decipher. I could not even conjecture, with confidence, the language. It clearly was not Arabic or Hebrew, and, therefore, it might be Tuaric or Shellock, and if so, I could pore over it a week, and be none the wiser; but still my eyes were rivetted on the pages; there was a familiar look in the turn of some of the letters that quite 1* X PREFACE. fascinated me- The writing was in a very fine and compact hand , it was divid- ed into chapters, and what was the most curious thing about it, each chapter was numbered in Roman numerals. Upon questioning Isaac, he informed me that the manuscript had been in his possession about a year ; that it had been brought to him by a Moor from Tafilet, who said that it had been left in his charge by a sick man who had arrived with the last caravan from the desert, and who had requested him to bring it with him, and give it to any of the com- mercial agents of Christian countries he should meet on the coast. At first Isaac had felt some curiosity in relation to it, and had shown it to a French wool- dealer, and to several learned rabbins, all of whom could make nothing of it. He then thought of sending it to the English consul-general, but business in- terfering, he had put it aside, and thus it had remained undisturbed ever since. I was about closing the book in despair, when, upon the margin of one of the pages I saw, in parallel columns, the English alphabet, and the correspond- ing characters of the manuscript, which it was easy to perceive, when tlius in juxtaposition, were nothing more or less than Roman letters, with the conso- nants trimmed down and condensed, and the vowels expressed by a single dot. Imagine my astonishment and delight, to find upon applying this key, and de- ciphering a few words, that the manuscript was written in English. After a few hours' practice I found that I could read the cypher quite easily, so that, at the end of five days 1 had read and re-read the whole of it. Permission now arriving from the court to resume my journey, I bade adieu to Rabat, and to the worthy Benshemole, who readily consented to my taking the manuscript with me. It is a transcription of this manuscript that I now send you for your opinion. Is it worth publishing? as for me, I have sometimes had my doubts about it, al- though I have been, and am now deeply interested in it, but then I am. fond of anything in the shape of travels and adventures, and my judgment may not be sufficiently discriminating. Should your opinion coincide with mine, I have to request that you will take the editorial charge of the matter, and prepare it for tlie press, with such corrections and emendations as may seem to you proper. PREFACE. 3C1 I have the utmost confidence in your literary judgment, and besides, the work, written as it is by a medical student, and containing frequent allusions to me- dical matters, should have a medical editor. I entrust the affair, therefore, wholly to you There is still another point, in relation to which I must beg your opinion It is now, according to the best estimate that I can make, about five years since the manuscript was written. Mr. Romer has been all this time in the interior of- central Africa, and if he is alive, and has at all prospered in his plans, he must have extended the boundaries of the kingdom of Framazugda far down towards the coast of the Gulf of Guinea Don't you think that it would be well that all consular agents, and commanders of national vessels should be ap- prised of the fact, and officially required to keep a sharp look-out for any inti- mations of his advent, and especially for any letters or manuscripts he will most probably send to the coast in the hopes of their falling into civilized hands. Hoping that you may find the manuscript worthy of the labor of preparing it for the press, I am. Your obedient Servant, &c. &c. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Pago, A life of adventure hereditary. — Nantucket whalemen. — Thoughts in a whale's mouth. — A ship struck by a whale and destroyed. — Loss of an armed brig. — Where there's a will there's a way. — A passion for the sea. 13 CHAPTER II. A comprehensive British blockade. — Specie accumulated at Vera Cruz. — The writer's father dispatched in a fast-sailing schooner for it. — Night encounter with a British vessel. — Getting into the midst of an English squadron, and getting out again. 19 CHAPTER III. The birth-place of the writer. — Ancient ruins. — Early physical education. — First going away to school. — Characteristic adventure on the road. 26 CHAPTER IV. School life. — Boyish adventures. 33 CHAPTER V. A revival. — School broken up. — Wanderings and reflections in the woods. — Joe Downs, the trapper. — An Indian killed with a ramrod. — Arrange- ments for an expedition into the wilderness. — A letter from the writer's mother. 38 CHAPTER VI. A hunting expedition. — Meeting with Indians. — A secret caravan. — Mr. Downs' opinions of the Indians. — Indians sueing for assault and bat- tery. — Encampment in the pine barrens. — One way to cook fish. — Deer shooting by torch-light. 48 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. P»£0 A friendly warning. — A night visit from Indians. — Downs dangerously wounded. — Retreat to the secret cavern. — Jonathan's medical and culinary skill. — Life in a cave in the woods. — Recovery of Joe. 58 CHAPTER VIII. An opportune arrival. — Return to the village. — Bad news. — Jonathan hur- ries home. — His mother's death. — A spiritual visitation. 69 CHAPTER IX, Jonathan's mother. — Commences the study of medicine. — Medicine and its professors. — Student fancies. 77 CHAPTER X. Fascinations of anatomy. — The doctors in doubt. — A grave incident. — Flight of Jonathan. — Arrival in New -York. — Meets an old friend. — A youngster on the main-gaft. — An opportune oifer. — Sailing of the Lively Anne. 82 CHAPTER XI. At sea. — Motions and emotions. — A boat afloat. — Jonathan's verses, and the captain's pun. — A critique on Lycidas. — Corvo and Flores. — Ar- rival at Fayal. — The town of Orta. — Garden of the American Con- sulate. — An illustration of the force of prejudice. — The Peak of Pico. — An elaborate, but forced conceit. — Reluctant adieus. 96 CHAPTER XII. Sailors and discipline. — Marine tartars. — Uncle Jethro's eye. — Pricking the cook. — Flogging in the navy. — A last look at the Peak. — A white squall, or a water-spout. — A capsize. 105 CHAPTER XIII. The schooner on her beam ends. — State of the wreck. — ^Jonathan alone. — Cuts away the main-mast. — Pumps out the wreck. — The water casks swept overboard. — Jonathan's expedient. — A successful experi- ment. 112 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIV. Preparing signals. — Overhauling the lockers. — A sail in sight. — Fresh pro- visions. — Hooking a turtle. — More ships in sight. — Moonlight on the ocean. — The Salvages. — Dr. Johnson's prayer. 119 CHAPTER XV. Land ho! — A weatherly craft. — The Peak of TenerifFe. — Oratavo. — A dark night. — Shore lights. — Hailing a fisherman. — Beauties of Qua- rantine. — A disappointment. — A storm. — Dining like a gentleman. — A ship in sight. — Visit from her captaiu. — Leaving the Lively Anne. 128 CHAPTER XVI. El Bonito. — Her officers and crew. — The Cape de Verd Islands. — Peak of Fuego. — Captain Roberts' account. — The horse latitudes. — Rains that are rains. — Flying fish and their enemies. — The Bonito a slave ship. — The misfortunes of Monte. — The African coast. — A visit from the blacks. — An accomplished linguist. — The fashions of Cacongo. — The Mafooka. — Anchor in Moenza Enzadda. — A slave station. — A white girl.— The Gerboo Blanda. 138 CHAPTERXVII. Getting the ship ready for slaves. — A Congo Apollo. — Visit to a slave pen. — The Gerboo girl. — An assault and battery. — Caddee M'Pemba. — A compromise. — An offer for a Fetish. — Purchase of the Gerboo. — Visit to Banza Embemda. — Kaloolah's brother. — Purchase of En- phadde. — Return to Lembee. — The Bonito driven to sea by a British cruiser. — Meeting of Kaloolah and Enphadde. — House hunting by torch light. 151 CHAPTER XVTII. An invasion of ants. — Burnt out. — A new house. — A visit from the slave- dealer. — A desperate race. — A judicial indulgence. — An apt pupil. — Framazugda. — Enphadde's story. — A warning. — Kaloolah's English. — The Tultul and the river. — An attempt to kill Kaloolah. — A sleep- less night. 160 CHAPTER XIX. A Congo custom. — A funeral. — A compliment to the corpse. — A feast. — A public speech. — Making a hit, or shooting a fetish. — Kaloolah's 6 CONTENTS. Pog«. conquest. — A musical entertainment. — The malaria. — An attack of fever. — Kaloolah as uurse. — Attentions of the negroes. — Return of the Bonito. — Danger from Kalool all's good looks. — Expedient to get rid of her beauty. 171 CHAPTER XX. Captain Garbez's return. — A hard blow. — A promise to the Virgin. — Suffer- ings in the baracoons. — Preparations for loading. — Packing the slaves. — Loose packing and tight packing. — Arrangements for Ka- loolah and her brother. — A timely fit of rheumatism. — Getting to sea. — Effects of sea-sickness among the slaves. — The captain's argu- ment. — Jonathan's proteges. — Talk about Framazugda. — Jonathan's intentions. 182 CHAPTER XXI. Condition of the slaves. — Throwmg overboard the sick. — A row with Monte. — War to the knife. — A gale. — Bearing away. — Opening the hatches. — Picking out the dead. — Opthalmia. — A British cruiser. — A chase. — A dense fog. — A curious phenomenon. — Throwing overboard the blind. — The giant of the Diamond rock. — The Ufting of the fog. — A stem chase. — Kaloolah struck by Monte. — Monte felled to the deck. — Jonathan and his proteges jimip overboard. — Picked up by the brig. 192 CHAPTER XXII, Boarding the brig. — Reception by the captain. — Monte in irons. — The d I's nephew. — The doctor a philologist. — Quarter-deck wit. — Politeness of the officers. — Kaloolah's recovery. — Captain Halsey. 206 CHAPTER XXIII. Sierra Leone. — Situation of Freetown. — Exuberant vegetation. — Malaria. — Its cause and essence. — An original suggestion. — The population of Freetown. — Politeness of the whites. — Anxious consultations. — Enphadde's plans. — A Koolah guide. — Jonathan's resolutions. — Takes passage for Liverpool. — A scene with Kaloolah. — The Parcae at work. 212 CHAPTER XXIV. The Duke of Wellington. — Jack Thompson. — The ship's reckoning. — A new rule in navigation. — The captain's notion of lunars. — A curious phenomenon. — Breakers on the weather bow. — Mi.ssing stays. — CONTENTS. 1 Page. Wearing ship. — The ship ashore. — Getting out the boat. — An anxious consultation. — Jonathan's plan. — Preparations for landing. 222 CHAPTER XXV. Situation of the ship. — Swimming ashore. — Landing provisions. — Thomp- son reaches the reef. — Provision depots in the sand. — A passage up the bank. — A hiding place. — Climbing the clifF. — The deser t. — mounted Arab. — The wreck discovered. — A discourse on cannibals. — Return to the beach. 231 CHAPTER XXVI. The Bedouins in force. — A storm at night. — Breaking up of the ship. — Collecting the plunder. — An admiralty judge. — The hiding-place dis- covered. — Meeting the Bedouins. — A warm reception. — A council. — A gentle intimation. — A march to the hiUs. — Feminine curiosity. — Jonathan's plans. — Thompson's despair. 239 CHAPTER XXVII. A scanty breakfast. — Watering the camels. — A change of humor. — Plagueing the women. — Judicious flattery. — A pigeon-wing in the de- sert — Working the pumps — Starting for the interior. — Suffering by the way. — Character of the countrj'. — Instinct of the camels. — The wells of Ageda. 249 CHAPTER XXVIII. Bedouin salutations. — Encampment at the wells. — Cooscoosoo. — An arri- val. — " Wind drinkers." — A change of masters. — Parting with Jack. — A ride in the desert. — Sidi Mohammed's douah. — Life in the douah. — Amulets. — A timely warning. — A delicate hint. 258 CHAPTER XXIX. A prize. — A dep6t of provisions. — A heirie. — The talayeh, the sebay, and the tasay. — An arrival at the douah. — A search for the heirie. — A ride with Soonshoo. — Secreted stores. — Milking the camels. — The devil's mouth. — Stretching out into the desert. — Soonshoo's alarm. — A man overboard. — Assisting Soonshoo to remount. — Good-bye to the oasis. — A message to Fatimah. — Soonshoo sets off for home. — A change of course. — Heirie riding. — A Bedouin boast. 265 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXX. Page. Sunrise in the desert. — A sand wind. — A dead camel. — Sunset. — A good day's travel. — Character of the country. — Encamping for the night. — Electrical phenomena. — Position of the traveller. — Threatening ap. pearances. — A sand storm. — A run-away heirie. — Finding a well. — A loaded camel buried in the sand. — Examination of his load. — A com- plete outfit. 274 CHAPTER XXXI. Emerging from the sand hills. — Burying treasure. — A beautiful view. — A douah. — Arabic greetings. — A sharifFee and a hadji. — Indications of danger. — A watchful night. — A startling warning. — An ill-timed com- pliment. — The Muezzin's morning call. — An effective speech. — Setting off" for the buried caravan. 283 CHAPTER XXXII. The buried caravan. — Moving a douah. — A feast. — A conversazione. — The wells of Boulag. — Schools and scholars. — Arts and artizans. — A Ti- bib. — Epaoedopathy. — Storj'-telling. — Music. — The song of the Be- douin. — Fears and doubts. 290 CHAPTER XXXIII, The Timbuctoo kaffila. — The camp in arms. — Sheikh Mahmoud Eben Doud Skein. — A display of horsemanship. — Preparations to attack the kaffila. — The Lab el Barode. — The Ambuscade. — Debouching from the sand-hills. — The attack. — The bivouac. — Astrology and its truths. — A happy rencontre. — Kaloolah's story. — Jennie. — Timbuctoo. 297 CHAPTER XXXIV. Kaloolah and Jonathan en route. — A dissatisfied Arab. — Reasons for flight. — Unrequited affection. — Buried stores. — Hurrah ! for Frama- zugda. — Pillars of sand. — The mirage. — The Fata Morgana. — A party of travellers. — A cup of tea. — Hahnemann and homoeopathy. .309 CHAPTER XXXV. El Garwan. — A Bedouin adage. — Sal-gem. — Hiring a house. — Rumors of a white slave. — A beggar. — An Irish soliloquy. — A manifestation. — Hugh Doyle's story. — Hope for the renegade 318 CONTENTS. 9 CHAPTER XXXVI. Page. Departure from El Garwan. — Arrival at Marbush. — A recognition.— Jack Thompson.— A party of Tuarics.— A complete equipment.— Estab- lishing a watch. — The moral uifluence of food. 326 CHAPTER XXXVII, The limit of the desert— Hugh's sj-stem of fortification— A herd of ga- zelles.— Character of the country.- Encampmg m the shade. — Ga- zelle stalking.— A pleasant meal — ^Jack's song.— Hyena music— A fresh water lake.— Bathing.— A visit from a crocodile.— A character- istic proposition.- Leeching a camel. — A Negro ploughman.- A chase and a capture. — Hassan and the Tuarics. — A supply of provisions. An addition to the party. 332 CHAPTER XXXVIII. By the editor. qaq CHAPTER XXXIX. Forest sights and sounds— Kaloolah's feelings.— The great river.— A fine prospect— The froulbell.— A strong camp.— Constructing a raft— A stroll in the forest.— A Uon ui the path.— The boa— Crossing the Yah'nil nebbe. 3-^ CHAPTER XL. Beyond the Yah'nil nebbe— An alarmed town— An expressive panto- mime.— A friendly reception.— The Matcham— Habits versus princi- ples.— A Kyptile breakfast — The town of Soconale.— The Matchanvs foreign relations— Departure from Soconale. 367 CHAPTER XLI. The Djebel el Kumri.— Slave-hunters abroad— The Footas'and their guns.- Jack's opinion of the Footas— A plundered village.— Military precautions. — A Kimbo scout. — An accession of strength. — Midnight musings.— Planning an ambuscade.— Caught in our own trap.— A charge and repulse. — The Kimboo's revenge. 374 CH APTE R XLII . A sight for the reader.— Hospitality of the Kyptiles.— A volcano.— A wake- ful night.— Kaloolah in tears— Stories of the guides.— Origin of the Framazugs.— The Jiggers— The Jouacks— The Serpent-men.— The 10 CONTENTS. Jalla. — The Footas. — A snail-field. — A rhinoceros. — The Nourwall. — Garazha. — The captain of the port. — Whamba Donga's town. — A message to the Governor. — Crossing the Nourwall. — A triumphal re- reception. — The Dagash. — A new view of Kaloolah. 388 CHAPTER XLIII. Garazha. — A ride. — Supping in a cavern. — New notions of noses. — A sumptuous repast. — A hunt. — Rousing a lion. — A desperate ride. — The Cha Donga-troll. — Death of the lion. — Large bird's nests. — The Sem- persough. — Waiting for news. — The change in the princess. 401 CHAPTER XLIV. Arrival of Enphadde. — The Prince's story. — Setting out for Killoam. — A buffalo and his trappings. — A weatherly craft. — ^Jack in the liowdah. 412 CHAPTER XLV. Character of the country. — Houses. — Monuments. — Fountains. — A touch of Politics. — First sight of Killoam. — Kaloolah's emotion. — Reception at Jallalob. — A separation. — An entertainment. — Feats of jugglers. 419 CHAPTER XLVI. Departure from Jellalob. — Pholdefoos. — Approach to Killoam. — Entrance into the city. — Novel pavement. — The acropolis. — The palace. — A bouquet from the princess. — The hall of the fountains. — The throne room. — Audience of the sultan. — The great Shounse. — A royal feast. 428 CHAPTER XL VII. Apartments of the princess. — An embarrassing position. — A view from the balcony. — j^ lovers' interview. — A spiritual visitation. — Ambitious reveries. — Lightning-fish. — Gogo. — A novel musical instrument. — The Ristum-Kitherum. — A morning walk. — Verses for the princess. 443 CHAPTER XLVIII. Royal festviities. — Latitude of Killoam. — A transit circle. — Situation of the city. — Houses. — Flower-garden roofs. — Streets. — Municipal hygiene sewers. — New mode of cooling houses. — Markets. — Bath-houses. — Public squares. — Rate of mortality. — Temples. — Religious notions. — The government. — Social distinctions. — The origin of the Framazugs. 456 CONTENTS. 11 CHAPTER XLIX. A marriage. — Public curiosity. — The Hall of Doubt. — A chorus. — An idle ceremony. — Queer notions of marriage. — The princess's toilet. — A cu- rious veil. — A marriage procession. — Sculptured nondescripts. — The Mound Temple. — The marriage ceremony. — Buried alive. 468 CHAPTER L. The honey-moon. — News from the borders. — Ravages of the Jalla. — Alka- fuz. — A night's reconnoissance. — Riding a boa. — A battle. — Marching into the Jalla country. — A novel battering-ram. — Jebha. — A strong position. — Enphadde's plans. — Capitulation of Jebha. — The Grand Shocco. — The source of the Nile. — Origin of the Jalla. — Queer people. — Gourd huts. — A country of snakes. — Return to Killoam. 476 CHAPT E R LI. Preparations for war. — Organizing an army. — The march. — Crossing the Queal. — A grand battle. — Siege of Goolah. — A new method of scaling walls. 496 CHAPTER LII. Return from the wars. — Hammed Benshoolo. — Message from Kaloolah, — Mysterious indications. — Gogo in chains. — An infant phenomenon. — Conclusion. 508 I KALOOLAH. CHAPTER I. A life of adventure hereditary. — Nantucket whalemen. — Thoughts in a whale's mouth. — A ship struck by a whale and destroyed. — Loss of an armed brig. — Where there's a will there's a way. — A passion for the sea. A life of adventure may be justly considered my birth-right. Descended, on both sides of the house, from some of the earliest settlers of Nantucket, and more or less intimately related to the Coffins, the Folgers, the Macys and the Starbucks of tnat adven- turous population, it would seem that I have had a natural right to a roving disposition, and to a life of peril, privation and vicissi- tude. Nearly all the male members of my family, for several gene- rations, have been " followers of the sea." Some of them in the calm and peaceful employment of the merchant-service ; others, and by far the greater number, in the more dangerous pm'suit of the ocean monster. Whahng, it is well known, has been, almost from the first set- tlement of this country, the chief employment of the inhabitants of " the Island." All were directly or indirectly interested in it. By it were bounded the hopes of the young and the memories of the old. In it alone could the highest honors be won, and good blows and true with harpoon and lance were of not less effect in winning the regard of the fiiir and the respect of the men, than the most 14 KALOOLAH. trenchant SAVord-cuts of gallant knights in the best days of chivalry. It was, consequently, pursued with an ardor and an enthusiasm that penetrated the remotest, wildest, ice-bound retreats of the fly- ing cetacea, and which has served to associate with the character of a Nantucket whaler the idea of dauntless bravery, enduring forti- tude, determined energy, industry and skill. In such a pursuit, the most thriUing adventures are the com- mon incidents of life : and the traditions of my family abound with stories of shipwreck and death, and of " hair-breadth 'scapes " from the imminent dangers of the sea. One relative was wrecked upon a desert island of the Pacific, and supported life for months upon the eggs of the penguin. Another — a Macy — was found floating upon a spar three days after his ship had foundered with all her crew. Still another was an officer of a ship which was stnxck and destroyed by an infiu"iated cachelot, whether by accident or design remains a disputed point amongst whalers. The boats of the ship were out in pursuit of a "school " of whales, when the officer in charge of the deck perceived an enormous ani- mal coming down, in the direction on which the vessel was stand- ing, with fearful rapidity. It was apparent that, unless the ship's course was changed, in an instant more a collision would take place ; and the steersman was directed to put the helm up, in or- der to give her a sheer out of the way, — but it was too late. Her bows had fallen off but a point or two when the whale struck her, " head on," with tremendous force. Recovering from their aston- ishment, the crew proceeded to examine into the injury which the ship had suffered. It was soon ascertained that no very serious damage had been sustained, when one of the look-outs appalled them with the shout, " Here she comes again !" and down came the whale with renewed fury, — a broad-sheet of white foam attest- ing the rapidity of her progress. Again she struck the ill-fated vessel in nearly the same place — ^just forward of the fore chains. It was now evident that the ship was materially injured. Signals were made for the boats to return ; they came alongside, and as FAMILY ANECDOTES. 15 the vessel was beginning to settle rapidly by the head, pro^^sions and instruments were put into them. In a few houis she went down, and her crew in three boats were left in the middle of the vast Pacific. Only one of the three, after tossing months upon the ocean, and enduring the extremes of himger and thirst, suc- ceeded in reaching land. Another member of my family was the identical boat-steerer of whom an anecdote has been often told, illustrative of the charac- teristic coolness of the Yankee whaler. The boat to which he be- longed was once knocked several feet into the air by a blow from the tail of a fish to which it was fast. Upon coming down he fell into the whale's mouth, and the teeth of the animal closed upon his leg. After being in this terrible position for some time, he was released, picked up by another boat and carried on board, where, while preparations were making to amputate his crushed limb, he was asked " what he thought of while in the whale's mouth 1" With the utmost sang frokl and simplicity, he replied, " Why, I thought she would yield about sixty ban-els !" But it is not my intention to detain the reader with anecdotes, of which I could relate enough to fill a volume. I mention a few here, only to illustrate my hereditary claims to a life of adventure. It is a curious fact — one which I believe to be well established — that not only are physical and intellectual qualities communicat- ed from parents to children, but also many of those mental habi- tudes and modes of thought which are stamped upon our minds by the circumstances in which we live. We are impressed from our earliest existence, with the spirit of the age or the community, and our mental and moral constitutions are modified by the in- fluence of that spirit upon the generations immediately preceding us. In the days of chivalry, for instance, youths were not only educated into gallant and courteous knights, but they were also born with a natural predisposition to what were then esteemed knightly qualities, accompHshments and vices. They were born with the chivalric idiosyncrasy. 16 KALOOIiAH. In tlie third year of the war of our revolution, it was resolved by some enterprising citizens of Boston to fit out an armed vessel, as well for harassing the enemy and cutting off their supplies, as in the expectation of prize-money. With this object a fine large clipper-brig was built, after the then most approved models of na- val architecture. Especial reference was had to speed in her con- struction, but she was also furnished with a battery of fourteen guns, which rendered her fully a match for many of the light cruisers with whom she was most likely to fall in. Encouraged by success in previous attempts, a crew of an hundred and thirty men was easily found, and my paternal grandfather Avas appointed to the command. He sailed from Boston harbor, full of confidence in the quahties of his crew and craft, and in his own capacity to rea- lise the hopes and expectations of his friends and the public, — but from that moment nothing has ever been heard of him. The brig was never spoken or seen, and no clue was ever afforded to a knowledge of his fate. His wife, with an infant son, was thus loft in a state of the most cruel widowhood. In general, where death severs the ties of affection, the shock, however violent, is soon mitigated in its force by the soothing hand of time. The very certainty of the blow which has fallen upon us, and the knowledge of all its cir- cumstances, prevents the fountain of the affections from being con- stantly stirred up by false hopes, and allows the storm of grief to subside into a mild and melancholy calm. But where all is uncer- tain who, can paint the pangs of ardent and confiding love — the terrible forebodings — the anxious looking for glad tidings — the heart-sickenings of continued disappointment — the agitating daily struggle between the fond wife's hopes and fears. It was several years before the conviction of her loss was forced upon my grand- mother's mind. When every one else had given up all idea of his being still alive, and his fate had almost ceased to be alluded to in conversation, she continued to expect his return. In the mean time, however, she found some solace in her son, who grew apace in FAMILY ANECDOTES. lY beauty and in strength, evincing from the first an ardent disposition for the sea. KnoAving that it would be impossible to control this inclination, or prevent its gratification, amidst the circumstances by which he was surrounded, his mother, who had naturally conceived a dread of the robber waves, had less hesitation in acceding to the proposal of an uncle residing in Boston, who offered to take him into his family and educate him for a mercantile life. She little thought, that the very precaution she was adopting was to prove an introduction to the kind of life which she feared. At the age of nine years my father, Avho was an exceedingly active and athletic lad, was sent to Boston. His uncle to whose care he was consigned was of a harsh and imperious temper, and he soon manifested a disposition to make the life of his nephew as slavish and uncomfortable as he could. But lie knew not the spirit of the boy with whom he had to deal. Before six months were over, my father, finding that it was all liard work, bad fare, brutal treatment and no " schooling," resolved to t^ike his des- tinies into his own hand, and tying up a few books and clothes in a pocket-handkerchief, he applied on board several vessels that were getting ready to sail, for a berth. None of the captains, however, would, owing to his youth and to his refusal to give any explanation as to his friends and family, listen to him, and he was about giving up in despair, when a large Indiaman commenced hauling into the stream. In the hurry and confusion of getting ready he made his Avay on board unnoticed, and slipping down into the cabin, he secreted himself in a state-room, in wliich was tem- porarily stowed a pile of spare sails. Every tiling was ready in an hour or two ; the sails loosened and sheeted home, and with square yards tlie ship was running off right merrily before a whole top- sail breeze. The next morning, long after the land had sunk from sight below the horizon, one of the officers of the ship commenced overhauling tlie sails beneath which the young adventurer was snuglv ensconced : he and iiis bundle were of course discovered 18 KALOOLAH. and conducted to the presence of the shrewd captain, who soon satisfied himself that he had made no small acquisition in his un- known passenger, and orders were given for his formal installa- tion into the office of cabin-boy, with a promise of regular wages and good ship's fare. It was not long before his activity, courage and good humor made him the favorite of both officers and crew and his company was equally acceptable in the forecastle and cabin. The officers all eagerly assisted him in the rudiments of navigation, and were never tired of answenng the questions of his inquisitive mind, Avhile the sailors vied with each other in initiating him into all the mysteries of w^orming, serving, knotting and splicing. Arrived at the port to which they Avere destined, he wrote to his mother, enclosing a Portuguese gold piece, the amount of his wages, and apprising her of his determination never again to see her until he should be in command of a ship. He accompanied the same vessel with a cargo of pepper to the Mediterranean. At Genoa he shipi>ed on board a brig bound to the coast of Chili ; made several voyages to and from his country, carefully saving all his wages, and sending them to his motlier, and serving in every capacity from foremost hand up to first mate, until, on his twentieth birthday, he was offered and accepted the command of the Neptune, a fine Indiaman from tlie port of New- York. Then, and not till then, did he visit his mother, w^ho although apprised of all his movements, had not seen him for eleven years. He left her, a boy, — he returned — the realization of all her hopes — a man respected for probity, energy, enterprise, and all those qualities which go to make up the true-hearted seaman. Can any one imagine a more blissful moment than when the widowed mother pressed to her heart her gallant stalwart sailor boy. CHAPTER II. A comprehensive British blockade. — Specie accumulated at Vera Cruz. — The writer's father dispatched in a fast-sailing schooner for it. — Night encounter with a British vessel. — Getting into the midst of an English squadron, and getting out again. The deeds of our naval officers are emblazoned on the page of histoiy, — the memory of their triumphs preserved in the hearts of their countrymen, but the feats of our commercial marine, the gal- lantry, courage and skill of its officers, however strikingly ennced, pass unrecorded and unknown. It was a few years previous to our last war, that the giant strifes of christian Europe raged the fiercest. The flood of battle rolled then its reddest tide, desolating the fair fields of civilized man, and tinting with its sanguinary hue the waves of every sea. Then was carried out to the fullest extent, that stupendous sys- tem of aggression upon the rights of neutrals, in which the two great belligerants vied with each other in acts of violence and in- justice, and which reduced our growing commerce to a precarious struggle with national buccaneers. Paper blockades, Berlin and Mi- lan decrees, and orders in council, furnished excuses for all kinds of insults and piracies, and embarrassed our communication with more than half the ports of the globe. Among other places thus interdicted to us, was the port of Vera Cruz, which, as a Spanish possession, was included in the comprehensive blockade of all the coasts of France and her allies, by England. This place, then, as now, sustained important com- mercial relations with the United States, which were for a time in- teiTupted ; and large quantities of gold and -silver, the produce of the Mexican mines, had accumulated there, the exportation of which had been prevented by the strict watch kept up by British cniisers. At last, however, its want began to be severelv felt. Ex- 20 KALOOLAH. tensive commeixial transactions, which had this blockaded specie for a basis, had taken place, and it was resolved by those most in- terested, to attempt getting it, at all hazards. For this purpose a clipper schooner was expressly constructed ; and a commander being required, combining activity and prudence, my father was selected. His good luck was proverbial, having never cost the un- derwriters a dollar, — and good luck, it is well understood, in a seaman's life is generally but another name for good conduct. His own maxim was, that there is no accident happening at sea, which cannot be attributed to a want of either prudence or skill. Does a squall strike a ship unexpectedly ! — there has not been a proper look out. Is there a spar lost ! — the rigging is bad, or badly set up, or the spar was defective, or the sail had not been reduced in time. Is a ship imeasy in a hea\y sea-way ! — Her stowage is bad ; or, does she find herself in dangerous proximity to land, or an ice- berg ! — the reckoning is bad, or t!ie lead and the thei-mometer have been neglected. In going out to Vera Ciiiz, on her first voyage, the schooner was overhauled by an English sloop of Avar, and carried into Nas- sau, New Piovidence, as a prize ; but as there were no circumstan- ces to justify her capture the courts were compelled to set her free. Without further adventure she arrived off the port, and show- ing her speed to an English frigate upon the station, easily slipped in. The officers of the frigate, knowing the object for which she had come, and confiding in the speed of their ship, were not un- willing to entice such a prize to sea, but it was several weeks before an opportmiity, that was thought available, occurred. At length, getting under weigh late in tlie evening the schooner run boldly out into the offing, without passing near enough to see any Eng- lishman, and without its being suspected that anv one saw her. For several days she ploughed her way before a good stiff breeze until the fifth, wliich closed with the usual order to the man at the mast-head to " take a good look around the horizon for sails," and the response " that nothing was in sight." In tlie middle of the NIGHT ENCOUNTER. 21 night, while lying awake in his berth, the captain fancied tliat he heard the swash of the water against the sides of a ship, and start- mg bstantly to the deck, there was to be perceived the hull and spars of a large vessel, not twenty yards off, on the weather bow. The watch of the frigate, as she proved to be, were equaUy sleepy, and the proximity of the schooner had not been discovered. Blow- ing out the binnacle lights, and putthig the helm down, the schoo- ner was directed across the ship's wake ; but at the moment when right astern, the flapping of a sail or the cracking of a block aroused the watch of the frigate, and a hoarse haU of " Ship, ahoy ! what craft is that?" thundered fiom the lofty quarter, right down upon the schooner's deck. To this question no answer was returned, and it was immediate- ly followed by a peremptory order to "Heave to." " Heave to ! or I'll fire into you." Still no answer. The ship was now all ahve. The dmms beat to quarters, battle lanterns were lighted, can-onades cast loose, pointed and fired, but yviih an aim so uncertain that, aUhough seve- ral shot struck tlie schooner, no material damage was done, while the chances each instant dkninished as she rapidly stretched out in- to the pitchy darkness to windward. In a few minutes the carron- ade shot fell short, wlien the frigate's gun-deck ports were opened and a shower of u-on started from the muzzles of her long thh-ty- twos ;— but it was too late— tlie chase was safe, and the dangerous adventure at an end. The result of this voyage led to several others, all equally suc- cessful, but aboundmg in similar adventures and narrow escapes. In the last and most important, from the amount of specie involved, the vigilance of the British cruisers came near bemg rewarded wth a splendid prize. It was just at the break of day, when my father, tu-- ed out with the watchings of an anxious niglit, had retired to his berth, that the unwelcome announcement of " Sail ho !" broke upon his ear. " Where away ?" he shouted up the companion-way, to Mr. Jones, the first mate, wlio was officer of the watch. 22 KALOOLAH. "Right off on the weatlier quarter,'' was the reply. " What does slie look like ?" "A large square-ngged vessel, sh*, with every thing set that can draw, from royals, do^^^l. She looks hke a man-of-war." In a moment he was on deck with his glass, and there, plainly to be perceived in the dull gray of the moniing, was a large ship, five or six miles to Avindward. Dropping the glass from his eye, after a momentary survey, he turned to Mr. Jones. "Well, sir, what do you think?" " I flunk, SU-, it is mighty suspicious." " Suspicious ! there is no suspicion about it, — that is an English frigate, as plain as the nose on your face, — the very fellow that has chased us so often." "Ay, ay, sir, there can be no doubt of it," returned Mr. Jones, — " you see she has got the identical brown fore-top-gallant- sail. She is coming along like a race-horse." " Ay, she's got a fresh breath of wind ; we shall get it in a mo- ment more, when I hope the Atalanta (the name of the schooner) will show a httle of her usual actinty." " Never doubt, sir, the old girl can show her heel to any thing in his majesty's ser-sice, and we have tried this fellow too often not to know his rate. To be sure, if we were up there to windward, close hauled, it woidd be a httle more easy, but as it is she can do it without straining." " Yes, she can do it easily enough, any away, and as we have headed up long enough to be clear of the reef now, we will lay our course. Ease off the sheets, and set the squaresail ! We can afford to indulge that fellow in his humor for studding-sails." The Atalanta fell off before the wind, bringing the frigate nearly astern, — a point of sailing in which square-rigged vessels generally have the advantage, but of no use in the present case, as the schooner had the unusual quality for vessels of her class, of saiiino- as well befoi'e the wind as close-hauled. In this way they continued for some time, the Atalanta rapidlv increasing the distance from the ESCAPE OF THE ATALANTA. 23 frigate, when a sail to the leeward, and ahead, was announced. In a few minutes it was ascertained that she, too, was a man-of-war. Orders were given to brace up, bringing the schooner into her original position, -with the wind a-beam ; the new vessel to leeward ; and the frigate to windward, and a Uttle astern. " Sail, ho !" shouted a look-out, for the thu-d time. "What, another! Where away?" " Dead ahead !" " This is something more than we bargained for, Mr. Jones." "Ay, sir, this is coming thicker and faster, and considerably more of it. If that chap ahead is a Johnny BuU, with his teeth cut, we shall be in a regular fix." "Well, a fix it is, then," said the captam, with his glass to his eye ; " he's an Enghshman, and there's at least three rows of teeth beneath that mass of spars." The Sim was now fairly up above the hoiizon, dispersing, by his warmth, a slight haze which had obscured objects at a distance, and disclosing two more sail, one on the starboard and the other on the larboard bow. We are in a nest of 'em, by heavens !" exclaimed the captain. " What do you think, Mr. Jones ?" A regular trap, sh, and I think the sooner we turn tail and try to creep out the way we got in, the better. " We never could do it — these two chaps could loib us to chips between the muzzles of their guns, without firing a shot." " Well, then, captain, I'm really afraid that it is a gone case with us. Oh ! if we were only up there, (pointing to windward,) we should be safe enough." " Well, we must get there." " It is impossible, sir." " Impossible or not, we must try, — they can't do more than smk us. Take in the gaft-topsails ! Haul aft the sheets ! Luff ! Luff up ! Let her come to it as close as she will lie !" In an instant the schooner had altered her course, heading up 24 KALOOLAH. to tn8 wind in a direclion obliquely across the bows of the rapidly advancing frigate. " There, well all that !" exclaimed the captain, taking the wheel into his owrr hands, " noAv men, go below, all of you ! we shall catch a grist or two of grape, and you may as w^ell keep imder cover as much as you can." The two vessels Avcre now rapidly approaching each other, the fri- gate steadily pm-suing her course, apparently confident that the prize was within her gTasp ; whUe the Atalanta, with the luff of her foresail shivering, was, in the expressive language of the sailor, " eating into the mnd " at a rate which put all the calculations of her pursuer at fault. Soon she was nearly athwart the fore-foot of the frigate, and within musket shot. A flash from the bow-port, and a twenty-four pound shot dashed up a cloud of foam du-ectly beneath the schooner's bows. In an instant, another, evidently aimed at her, passed a few feet astern ; and in a moment more the frigate braced sharp up and let fly all the guns she could bring to bear. This manoeuvre lessened her headway, and before she could repeat the discharge the schooner had got so far up to windward as to be out of range of her lee-broadside. Although unable to hold her wind Avith the schooner, and rapidly falling off to leward, the frigate advanced through the water ^vith a velocity that soon brought her close-to on the lee- quarter of the Atalanta. Falling off a little, which, while it made her lose groimd, enabled her to open her weather broadside, she sent forth a storm of shot, which, at first, hurtled harmlessly over the little craft. Again and again it came, but with better aim, en- veloping her in a shower of grape, riddling her sails — which were fortunately, new and strong — and tearing the sphnters from her bulwarks, masts and booms ; but still not an essential rope was cut, or a spar materially injvu'ed, Avhile each mstant the distance Detween the two vessels was increasing. " You are hit !" exclaimed Mr, Jones to the captain, observ- ESCAPE OF THE ATALANTA. 25 ing his left hand drop from the wheel, shattered by a grape-shot. " Ready about !" was the only reply, shouted in a tone which brought the sailors instantly to the deck. " In a minute more we shall be within shooting distance of the otlier fellow, ahead." " Down with the helm, Mr. Jones !" " Helm's a-lee !" The jib-sheets were loosened, and the schooner came up, fore- reaching when in the very eye of the wind, at the rate of three or four miles the hour, and then falling off upon the other tack, in a direction contrary to that the frigate was pm*suing. Following the example, the fi'igate also tacked ; but it took her much longer, and when she came round and gathered the headway she had lost, the Atalanta was more than a mile off. huiro-ina; the wmd with a close- ness and tenacity peculiar to fore-and-aft clippers, and chopping her way up to windward, after a fashion which woidd have ren- dered pursuit by any square-rigged vessel perfectly useless. A shot from the fiigate's bow-chaser sunk, its force quite spent, a few feet astern. "HuiTah!" shouted the mate, unable any longer to control the pent-up excitement of the chase. " Hurrah !'" and swinging his cap round his head, he gave it a shie over the lee quarter. " Hurrah !" echoed the crew, with responsive enthusiasm, and imitating the monkeys in the well-knoAvn story of the sailor and his caps, they followed the example of their officer, and in an instant a dozen tarpauhns were floating in the wake astern. Whether the Enghshman fished any of them up as he came by, is not known, but at any rate, it was his only chance for a prize. At daybreak the next moiTiing the frigate was nowhere to be seen, and the schooner, and cargo, without any farther adventure, arrived in safety at New- York. As may be supposed, my father received the congratulations and approbation of his employers, comprising several of the richest merchants, bankers, and agents for foreign houses. A siun of mo- 2 26 K A LOOK AH. ney was voted to him, with a piece of plate, and inducements were held out to him by one who was principally interested, and who had become a large landiiolder in the wilderness of the northern part of the state of New-York, to go on there and settle. The in- ducements were too strong to resist, especially when coupled with 'the persuasions of one to whom he had determined to unite him- self, and who, although a native of the same little sandy, ocean-girt isle, had imbibed an unconquerable aversion to the sea. Marrj'^ing, he took my mother, Avho objected only to those adventures she could not share, to the banks of the St. LawTence, and commenced the construction of some of the first vessels employed m the lucra- tive trade between the flourishing village of , and the ports of Lake Ontario. CHAPTER III. The birthplace of the writer — Ancient ruins. — Early physical education. — First going away to school. — Characteristic adventure on the road. The village of O is beautifully situated at the confluence of a small stream with the St. Lawrence, and, unlike most of the towns of our new country, it is not Avholly destitute of romantic associations and historical remams. Ui)on a point of land across the affluent of the St. Lawrence, and opposite the village, stood the ruins of on old French trading house and fort ; one of the cluiin of posts which the fu-st masters of Canada undertook to establisli from Montreal to fort Duquesne. It consisted of four square buildmgs, erected upon the angles of a parallelogram, and connected by a curtain or wall of twelve or fourteen feet in height. Shghtly con- structed as a defence merely against musketry, or the arrows of the Indians, it was illy calculated to resist the ravages of time. Its EARLY PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 2l crumbling walls, however, were the scenes of authentic tradition and romantic story. To me they fm-nished the richest food for the imagination, and more than one glorious castle in the air was raised while seated upon the fallen stones of that dilapidated pile. To me they suppUed the place of the broken arches and moss-covered relics of the ancient abbey, or the ivy-crowned towers of the feudal castle. They were the birth-place and school of my ardent and excited fancy ; and as such I shall always recollect them with more reverence and respect than I could feel now m looking upon the proudest monuments of the long-since-mighty dead. The death of my father, when I was but eight years old, freeing me from a good deal of that salutaiy parental restraint which a father only can exercise, my adventurous disposition rapidly deve- loped itself, and with it the physical capacities and energies best adapted to that constitution of mind. Even when quite a bov I had achieved no inconsiderable fame as a wrestler, jumper, swim- mer and marksman. At school, although far fi-om industrious or attentive, I acquired a respectable standing, with the reputation of be- ing "smart enough, if I would only apply myself;" but out of school my supremacy was imiversally acknowledged. Xo one could nm faster, swim fmlher, send a rifle or pistol bullet with surer aim, or was more expert at boyish mechanical contrivances. Even at some exeTOses which are not generaU)^ practised by boys in the country, ^eh as fencing, I became quite a proficient. A de- serter from the Canadian gamson, on the other side of the river, who had at one time of his life acted as a kind of maitre d'armes of a ship of war, gave me my first lessons. Under his instructions I made such progress, that when, some time afterwards, a travelling French dancuig-master, who was also a master of the weapon, came into the village, his admiration was so much excited that we be- came the best friends in the world, and every spare moment that we had we spent with the foils in hand. But although enjoying the practice of all gymnastic sports, and priding myself not a little upon my victories and successes. 28 KALOOLAH. they were far from being my only amusement or occupation ; an insatiable thirst for reading soon exhausted the scanty Ubraries of the \illage, and could only be gratified by rcperusuls, until many books were gotten almost by heart. Buried in the depths of the sombre forest, or floating upon the broad St. Lawrence on a raft of my own construction, or seated amid the ruins of the old trading house I have mentioned ; tales, travels, plays, poetry and history were swallowed indiscriminately with the most comprehensive avi- dity. All came alike to me, and were beUeved ahke. I knew that many people looked upon certain books as fictions. I coidd only wonder at such scepticism. Were there not kings and princes, and beautiful ladies in the world ? Then there must be dragons, griffons and enchanted castles. Tlie evidence was the same for both. I knew that the Seven Champions once floiuished, each one in 'proiiria persona, and that some of their relations were still left in the world. I knew that Robinson Crusoe was a veritable per- sonage ; no imaginary amplification of a common-place Scotchman, but a true bona fide fellow, who had no more to do with Alexander Selkirk than I had. Even Jack the Giant Killer — if any boy had dared to doubt, in my presence, his bodily existence, that boy would have been flogged. At length this mania, for it amounted to that, reached its crisis. A copy of Don Quixote fell in my way. The pleasure — the excitement, as I read, amounted to agony. There was nothing ludicrous in any of the Dons adventm'es. Taking windmills for giants, was a mistake, no doubt, but then the wind- mills themselves were worthy opponents. I longed to attack a windmill. I had a perfectly clear com-iction, that, if I could once fairly charge a Avindmill, I should overthrow it and compel it to re- sume its true shape, that of some gigantic magician. Unfortunately the only windmill in the neighborhood was one with wings that moved horizontally, and at some distance from the ground. The tallest knight that ever bestrode a charger of sixteen hands could not have touched the lower edge of them with the point of his lance. The wmdmill was safe, but I could not help feeling some- DEPAUTLKE FOU SCHOOL. 29' thing like contempt for the gieiil cowardly wliirligig, that, confiding in its secure elevation, seemed to mock my ambition. The excite- ment of my mind continued to mcrease. My brain became as full of absvird conceits as the old Don's. I could not sleep, lost my ap- petite, grew pale imd emaciated, and m fact was on the very verge of settled insanity. My mother, justly alarmed, resolved upon change of scene for me, and it was decided that I should be sent to the principal aca- demy of the county, situated in the pleasant village of P » about thirty miles from O . The day after my fourieenth buthday I started upon the jour- ney. I have since wandered amid the most dreary Avilds of the African Continent, I have crossed the Saharah, have encountered its arid sands and its poisonous simoon, its desolate rocks and its remorseless robbers ; but aU can never efface the remembrance of that first going forth from home. Never as yet had I been a day from beneath my mother's eye. Never for a day had I lacked the consciousness of her watchfid anxiety, or the efficacy of her bless- ing. Wild, waj^^ard, self-wiUed, and often utterly i-eckless of her wishes or commands, I yet loved her with the intensest affection. The parting was hard, although the crotchets of Don Quixote running through my head, very much blimted my sense of its pangs. " Jonathan," said my mother, at the conclusion of a long confe- rence, " I have packed your trunk with every thing that I can think necessary. If any thing is wanting, why the distance is really short, although it seems so long, and I can easily send it to )"ou. You will find in one corner youi* Bible. Don't forget it, Jonathan. You say you hke the old Testament best, ^vith its battles and sieges. Well, that's a boy's taste. Read the old Testament then, and per- haps some day you vnU. leani to prefer the new. And by tlie Bible, Jonathan, you will find a small purse ; I made it many years ago. It contains a gold coin, the first which your father earned, and sent to his mother as a testimony of his success and his filial remera- 30 KALOOLAH. brance. He was then, you know, several years younger than you are. Keep it carefully, it is a tioie talisman of more efficacy than ever fahy bestowed upon any of your favorite knights, and — and — Jonathan — " My mother's voice faltered, and the tears again filled her eyes. " What ? dearest mother," I exclaimed, throwing my arms around her neck. " You will find," she continued, composing herself with an effort, " you Avill find at the bottom of your tnmk a garment dif- ferent from your other linen, which might puzzle you to understand the use of. You are going far from me, Jonathtm, among strangei-s. If you are sick I shall come to you — but then — many accidents may happen, you are so ventm'ous, Jonathan, you may get thrown from a horse, or drowned — " " Oh, no, mother, that's impossible, did'nt I break Jem. Smith's colt after he had killed the circus-rider, and nobody else would mount him, and can't I swim four times across the O , and that's more than a mile." " Yes, I know, every one says that you are the best rider and swimmer in the village, but you are also the boldest, and you nm great risks. You have promised me to be cautious for my sake, but accidents, as I have said, may happen to any one, and I have thought proper to make you a — a — " " Shroud ! mother." " Why, no, not exactly a shroud, but something that wiU answer as a grave dress. God save you, my son, from reqiming the use of it !" Was ever maternal consideration carried farther? I might die among strangers, and be buried carelessly, without proper grave clothes ! Cotton, even tow cloth, might have answered for the hving body, but nothing but the finest linen comported Avith the sanctity of the dead ! For years I canied that gannent at the bottom of my trunk. Somehow, it became known to my schoolmates, and at first was a source of considerable ridicule, but I soon contrived to flog A GRAVE DRESS. 31 them all into a proper appreciation of my mother's forethought and care. As the reader may perhaps tliink with them, and as I have neither the mclination nor opportunity to coiTect his or lier opinion in tlie same Avay, I can only say that my mother was from Nantuck- et, and they are all queer people there. It was in the depth of winter that I left home, under the parti- cular charge of a careful and respectable teamster, who was going to P with a sleigh-load of salt. It was just after a heavy fall of snow, and the narrow track, imperfectly broken, w^as bounded by immense banks of snow, almost as high as our heads, as we were seated on the front and only seat of the long, low, open sleigh. On either side stretched the interminable forest, its leafless branches loaded with icy crystals, and glittering in the struggling simbearas as brilhantly as the gemmed trees in the cavern of Aladin. Here and there, at the distance apart, sometimes of several miles, would be seen the small clearing suiTounding the solitary log house of some enterprising settler. Covered by the unvarying carpet of white, through which peeped the unpicturesque stumps ; they were far from presenting a very cheerfid appearance, — they served, like the sHght breaks sometimes in a iinnament of storm clouds, to reveal — not reheve — the surromading sternness and gloom. For several miles after leading the village we rode along in per- fect silence, my companion occasionally eyeing me with a cmious look, and evidently making preparations for opening a conversation. To several remarks upon the state of the weather, the road, (fee. I made no answer ; my mind was filled with too many contendino- emo- tions for speech. " I say, sonny," he at length exclaimed, evidently determined to come to the point at once with the moody boy at his side, " I sav, sonny, you don't seem to like leaAing home for the first time. Well, well, nobody does. I didn't. I was the horaesickest fellow once, you ever did see, and I was a good deal older than you are, too." And then he went on to give me a long accoimt of his first journey, to all of which I made no reply. I was indignant at being 32 KALOOLAH. called sonny. I was indignimt at being addressed at all — at having my confused meditations interrupted — and each moment I grew more and more provoked. " Come, come, why don't you talk a little ? it will do you good. Well," after a pause, " they say that you aie a queer follow, and I really believe they're right. I've heard tell some curious stories about you. They say that you knocked old Clark, the schoolmas- ter, off his chair, with the broomstick, because you thought that you was St. George, and that he was a dragon going to eat up a little boy. How was that, was that so ? Come, tell us the story. Some thinks you was cracked, but I guess old Clark's head was the most cracked in that affah." And then followed a long and hearty laugh at his own wit. I could stand it no longer, — so, putting my foot upon the edge of the sleigh, and exerting that agility which, a little later, has often enabled me, with one running -jump, to clear nearly twenty-two feet of groimd, I gave a spiing entirely over the perpendicular snow- bank, and landed nearly up to my neck in the roadside ditch. By drawing down my head I was completely concealed for a while from the astonished teamster. He checked his horses, stretched himself up in his sleigh, and looked around with a countenance in*esistably ludicrous, from amazement and fear. " Soh ! whow !" to his restive horses. '• Wliow ! I toll you. — Where has he gone to ? Good Lord ! what shall 1 do ? Dear me ! where on airth is he '? Whoa ! I tell you. Darnation ! Whoa ! dam your skins ! — ^Jonathan !'* I looked up and saw his comical phiz above the snowbank. The spirit of fun revived. After some little parley I made my way through the snow and took my seat in the sleigh, heartily enjoying both his fright and his satisfaction at recovering a part of his load, for the safe arrival of which he knew that he should be held responsible. I could not retain ill feehngs against the honest man any longer, and we chatted and laughed, at first with some little i-eserve on his part, but on overturning in getting out of the road for the mail, I assisted him in rigliting his ADVENTURES BY THE WAY. 33 sleigh, and restoring its load Avith so much activity, strength and good will, that I quite won his heart. " Good bye, sonny," he ex- claimed, as he landed me at the door of the house to which I had been consigned, " Good bye ; if I can do any thing for you, just let me know, for — a — for you're not such a darned fool as they say you are." CHAPTER IV. School Life. — Boyish Adventures. It would be a waste of time and space to give all the little ad- ventures and incidents of my academic course of four years. With but little exertion I continued to maintain a respectable standing in my classes, at the same time that I acquired, by a desultory and extensive com-se of reading, a fjreat deal of knowledsxe which fre- quently gave me many advantages over my more industrious and re- gular schoolmates. It was often a wonder how I knew so much upon the most recondite and out-of-tlie-way subjects, when I was seldom seen to study, and devoted so much of my time to fishing, gmming, and gymnastic sports. As in all small towns where academic institutions are situated, there was a good deal of jealousy, rivalry, and sometimes downright ill feeling between the students and the youths of the village, occa- sionally displaying itself in serious and even dangerous battles, but most generally in the more harmless, but not less exciting trials of activity and skill. On fourths of July, training days, and other oc- casions, young men from the coimtry arovmd, at a distance of ten or fifteen miles, would come for the purpose of competing for the championship in these contests, in which, as the leader of the school, I soon became conspicuous. Wa.s there a game at cricket or base-ball to be played, my name headed the list of the atliletae. 2* 34 KALOOLAH. "Was some foot-race or leaping-match to be contested, I was the academic champion. Did some burly wrestler from a neighboring Aillage want the " conceit " taken out of him, either at back-hold, side-hold, or arms-end, I was the one to do it ; or if I could not do it, it was pretty clear that no one else coidd. With my pistol, at fifteen paces, I could diill a mark the size of a half dollar at every shot, and with the rifle it was universally concluded by all the get- ters-up of turkey shooting matches, that it would never do to put tlie birds up for me at twenty rods, for a shilling a shot. I dwell upon these qualities, not so much from the pride that I took in them, as from the service that they have since rendered me, in situations where nothing but a quick eye, practised hand and agile foot could have saved me. I say, not so much from the pride that I took in them, but why pride, and a pretty good share of it, too, is not allowable, I cannot understand. Formerly, merely animal strength was held in the greatest repute ; but since, in modern days, the intellectual, as a source of power, has been gaining so much upon the physical, that the latter seems to me to have been uraiecessarily and unjustly decried, and its proper cultivation ne- glected. The physical powers are as much the gift of God — in all situations their liighest development is serviceable, and in some cases essential, and even by a happy relation the health and strength of the intellectual qualities are dependent upon it. Fortunately, our boys, particularly those who have the advantage of a country life, educate, to some extent, their ^5/iys«(/Me for themselves. Fu- ture generations will undoubtedly enjoy the advantage of haA-ing gymnastics taught as a science, and the highest development given to the body as well as to the mind. I am far from wisliing to convey tlie idea that I was free from the faults incident to youth. A perfect character may read very well in fictions, but would at once appear improbable and out of place in a plain and simple autobiography of a real personage. Rousseau, I recollect, m his confessions draws rather a dark picture of his early character, and honestly allows that he was a liar, a SCHOOL LIFE BOYISH ADVENTURES. 35 thief, and given to a \ariety of boyish evil practices. I can hardly Admit that 1 was as bad as the sentimental Frenchman. Although I had m the abstract no very great regard for the truth, yet, a cer- tain boldness and recklessness of character saved me from bemg much of a har ; a good share of generosity kept me from those \ ices which result from selfishness ; but if robbing hen's nests, conifields, orchards and melon grounds, be stealing, we were all thieves, and I was one of the greatest and most mveterate. Upon my first arrival at the school this kind of robbery vvas canied on in a small way ; there was nothing dignified and grand enough about it to suit my notions. I soon reformed the system, made it much more comprehensive, and organized a band, which became a perfect nuisance to the whole coiuitry round, particidarly to those who had a reputation for stinginess, or who, too incau- tiously boasted of then- Avatch and ward. If a ftumer was heard to threaten the unknoAvn depredators with his gun or dogs if they dared to visit his grounds, he was sme to be the subject of a desolat- ing nocturnal foray, or if too strict a watch was kept up at night, the day-time woidd be selected, when the men were away from home. Upon a signal given, a dozen boys disguised, who had been lying perdu perhaps for two or three hoiu^, would jump his fences, each one with a large bag, and rapidly coEecting the fruit, make off amid the screams of the women and the barking of dogs, and vanish with the plunder in the most mysteiious manner in the neighboring wood. In a short time some of the gang would per- haps saunter back to the same house, and with the most innocent air ask the enraged women for a cup of butter nfilk, or a draught from the well. Things went on this way for a long time, defying the most strenuous efforts of the authorities, both in and out of the academy, either for prevention or detection. But at length the vigor with wluch the depredations were committed began to flag, paitlv from the novelty and spirit-stirring adventiuoiisness of our forays wear- ing off, partly from oui' gro\vth in years putting us above and be- 36 KALOOLAH. yond the seductions whii.h led to them ; but principally fiom some curious and mysterious circumstances, which probably have not been explained to this day, m as much as I alone could have furnished the key. All the members of the gang, of Avhich 1 was the acknowledged chief, occupied rooms upon the second story of a long range of buildings, fonning the dormitories of the academy. As much of the fruit captured in our ruthless raids was far from having arrived at matmity, it was the custom to expose it to the sunshine upon the ledges of the windows. After a while it was observed that fruit thus exposed disappeared very mysteriously. At first it was attributed to the servants of the establishment, or to fellow- students. Every possible precaution was taken. The doors were carefully locked upon going to recitation, or the play-ground ; still tlie fruit, of whatever kind, continued to disappear after a fashion which, had we been superstitious, might have been considered a supernatural retribution for the way in which it was acquired. The subject at last created quite an excitement. Numberless plans for detecting the thieves were proposed and adopted. The strictest watch was kept up. A committee selected by myself was frequently stationed so as to guard the doors wliile the rest of the students were assembled at the ball or wrestling grounds. No one could be seen entering the rooms, and yet, during the watch the fruit which had been previously counted and exposed would be carried off. Sometimes we watched the windows, and once, upon a holiday, a party, of which I was one, ]Ry secreted in a grove of trees, with a spy-glass directed against oiu* room windows for live or six hours. In less than half an hour after the watch was broken up some of the rooms were robbed. The utmost confusion and excitement prevailed. Who could be suspected ? How could it be done ? Things grew more and more serious ; anything left upon the sills of the wuidows was hable to disappear. One lost an old Virgil, ;m- other a Horace; two or three pillows, which had been thru.st out lo air, were missing; even an attempt was made to carry oft" a feather- SCHOOL LIFE — BOYISH ADVEXXURES. 37 bed, for it was foiind upon the ground beneath the window with a large rent in it. The teachers and authorities of the school at length became in- terested, and almost every one was suspected in turn, except ray- self. It was universally conceded, that it was a very remarkable and mysterious affair. But if they could have seen me step from the window of a closet opening from my room, and grasping the lightning-rod, ascend with the rapidity almost of a flash of the fluid for which it was designed, they would have got upon a clue by which the whole mysterj' might have been easily unravelled. Ar- rived at the roof, the access to which was generally cut off" to the students by lock and key, I could creep along behind a hea-v^ bal- lustrade without any danger of being perceived from below. By attaching to the end of a long reed a couple of large straightened fish-hooks, I had contrived to make a very effectual harpoon, with which, by leaning over the gutter, I could easily reach the windows below. My impunity consisted in the thorough knowledge of all the movements of my companions, and of their plans for detecting the thief. In the night I would again motmt to the roof, load my- self with my prey, and descending, bury it in the woods. Return- ing, I would have to mount the lightning rod to my room, and always so noiselessly and adroitly, that out of fifty instances at least, I never once disttu'bed the slumbers of my own chum. It was wonderful, the perseverance, patience and energy with which I devoted myself to this interesting employment, and as it now seems to me, without any inducements. When I look back upon all the circtunstances, I cannot fuUy understand them. I can only laugh sometimes at the ridiculous figure that I must often have cut, had there been spectators, when creeping up and down the li'j-htnino"-rod in the middle of the night, perhaps in a pelting rain, without clothes and with a large bag tied roimd my neck. Of my feehngs, although but a few years have elapsed, I have but an indefinite idea ; of my motives I have not the slightest conception. It could not have been acquisitiveness, for I could not use or pre- 38 KALOOLAH. serve my spoils. It could not have b(H;n the mere vanity and am- bition of the school hero, for that could have been gratified only by publicity, and I recollect distinctly, that I had not the remotest idea of demanding for my performances the applause which they would certainly have received. No, it was probably nothing but adventurousness and secretiveness combined with exuberant physi- cal energy, which thus found a vent, added to which, perhaps, was the pleasure of being at the bottom of a secret which created so much excitement, or in other words, the pride of superior knowledge. CHAPTER V. A Revival. — School broken up. — Wanderings and reflections in the woods. — Joe Downs, the trapper. — An Indian killed with a ramrod. — Ar- rangements for an expedition into the wilderness. — A letter from the writer's mother. A revival of religion, as it was called, at last put an end to my academic course ; in fact, it came pretty near putting an end to the academy itself. It had simultaneovisly broken out in each of the three churches into which the town was divided, the Baptists, Me- thodists and Presbj^terians, and gradually included the members of our own school as well as the inhabitants of the village. It spread itself like an epidemic, and seemed to be governed by similar laws. Rapidly increasing in violence as it advanced, it attacked all classes, but e\'inced particular power over the very young, the very aged and the very vicious. No re\•i^'al in that section of country had ever been more complete, or had been more strongly characterized by enthusiastic zeal and intense. Avild, passionate excitement ; and none, I may say, supposing it to have been at fir>t the true spirit A REVIVAL. 89 of God stirring up the apathetic consciences of men, was ever more thoroughly pei-verted from its proper ends, or marked by more disgusting scenes of intemperance and fanaticism, or followed by a more complete and striking reaction. In a short time, out of a hundred and eighty scholars, male and female, but five remained " unconverted." The school was en- tu'ely broken up, all recitations and studies were neglected. Every one went and came as he pleased ; teachers and pupils were all too busy with the concerns of the soul to heed the duties of the school, with the exception of our venerable president, who was also the pastor of the Presbyterian chiu-ch. He had set himself sternly and strongly against what his good sense led him to pro- nounce an unhealthy, if not an unholy excitement. He predicted that much evil would come of it, and endeavored to moderate the imflammatory zeal of liis flock ; biit in vain. He could not with- stand the overwhelming and impetuous tide of public opinion. A highly cultivated mind, refined taste, gentle manners and imdoubted piety served not to save him from contumely and insult. Rampant zealots prayed for him even in his own church as a blind leader, a weak brother, an agent of the devil: while he, finding that he could not repress or divert the storm, calmly awaited its subsi- dence, knowing that with the return of reason would retiu-n the influence of his character and his counsels. From all quarters of the academic buildings, and at all times of the day and night, could be heard the sounds of prayer. Protracted meetings now commenced, one of which lasted ■\\ithout the slight- est intermission for seven days and seven nights, and it was even proposed to continue it longer, in the expectation of the anival of a disttnguLshed preacher, Avho was famous for his \igor, fluencv, and spiiit-stiiTing influence in prayer. All kinds of curious strata- gems were resorted to by the adroit leaders of these meetino-s to entrap the feelings of the unregenerate. Ever}' one was prayed for in full congregation by name, and frequently eff"ective allusions made to age, situation, connections, and prospects. Little children 40 KALOOLAH. with plaintive voices would sometimes be selectc^d for this purpose, and sometimes girls grown to womanhood, with whom the sinner was supposed to be a little aux petits soins. In this way our band of five lost very unexpectedly one of its members, and the uncon- verted were thus reduced to four, with the old President at their head. At this time most of my hours were spent in the woods, either fishing, reading, or perchance, dreaming. Often stretched at length upon the sunny bank of the most beautiful trout stream in the world, or seated upon some prostrate giant of the forest, I have turned with shuddering and loathing from the siglit and sounds of the distant village, and have felt borne to my innermost soul the conviction that cant and rant are utterly inconsistent with the true woi-ship of God. How soft, and low, and calm, yet deep and full of meaning and power are the hymns sung to His praise in the great temple of nature. How varied too I How infinitely expressive ! Listen to the hot siuibeams stiiking upon the thick pendant foliage, to the soft sighing of the million leaves, as, disturbed by the fitful breeze, they twist and wriggle themselves back to stillness and rest. Listen to the low hum of the lazy insects ; to the hesitating twitter of the sleepy birds, or to the occasional sullen sluggish plash of some trout, who has been lured from liis siesta by the temptation of a careless fly. The blended whole makes music — low, melancholy music — the most saddening music — it speaks of life, health, vigor; but of life, health, vigor, doomed to decay. It is prophetic in its tones ; the deepest well-springs of the soul are stirred, gently, sadly, but not unpleasantly, as the foreboding notes rise, and swell, and fall. Anon, the tempest comes, the majestic clouds speak to each other and to earth in the deep voices of the pealing thunder; the sturdy woods re-echo, and prolong the crastiing sounds; the wind sweeps through the foliage with a hollow rushing, as if a myriad viewless spirits were flapping their pinions and career- ing before it — the big drops fall with leaden sound upo]i the lea^'es. Does not the whole make the wildest, subliraest harmony ? There REFLECTIONS IN THE WOODS. 41 is nothing dismal or gloomy in it ; it is sternly joyous ; it speaks of power — of miglit; but it speaks too in solemn and majestic tones, — no ranting or canting — of a power above, and beyond mere droop- ing and decaying nature. Stand forth, and enjoy it ! Quail not ! Bare your brow to the storm — look with a steady eye upon the Ughtning's tiash — listen to the awful chorus and feel alike the in- finity of God and the gi'eatness of the soul. The storm has passed — the moistened fohage rustles in the breeze ; but with a different tone — a tone of pm"e gladness, the insects beat the air with their tiny mugs to a more joyful measiu'e ; the birds sing freely, bUthely; the trout spring actively from the placid lake, and dash the sparkling circles with a sound of merriment and glee. The hannony is of natm'e i'e\aved, restored. It speaks of hope and confidence — it presages immortaHty. But how easy, natural and quiet! How deep, and strong, and heart-per\'ading in that very natm-alness and quiet! Ah! in all that inihiite variety of praise, and prayer, and thanksgi\ing, you can discover nothing hke rant or cant. It was with such thoughts in my head that, early one beau- tifid morning, I was rangmg the woods, gtm in hand, occasionally stopping to hsten for the dnimming of the partridge, or the coo- mg of the Avild pigeon. The pecuhar sounds of the former struck upon my ear ; I took aim — fired, and was reloading my ritie, when a loud and hearty salutation rang through the trees. "Hallo! Mr. Jonathan, good morning. How are you?" exclaimed the stranger, picking up the partridge as he advanced towards me. "That's a capital shot of yoiu's — a first rate shot; ten rods at least, and head taken off as clean as a Avliistle." The speaker was old Joe Downs, well known as an expert trapper and himter; and as generally liked as he was known. There was nothing rough or outre in his appearance or style of conversation; none of the half- horse and half-alligator characteris- tics generally attributed to the woodsmen of the south and west. Nothing could be more simple or respectable than his ah* and 42 KALOOLAII. looks; so mucli tso, that more than once, Joe had been taken for a country parson. His ostensible home was in the village, but his real home was in the woods, the greater part of his time being spent in expeditions up to tlie sources of the Rackett and Grass Rivers, in the dense and perfectly uninhabited wilderness in the northern part of the state of New-York, known as John Brown's tract. A few beaver yet lingered round their old favorite haunts on the numerous beautiful little lakes, which, like dimples here and there, lighted up the face of natm-e with smiles, and relieved the stern solitude of the woods. They were, hoAvever, not in sufficient nimibers to attract the hunter, who found more profitable employ- ment in trapping the musk-rat, or in killing deer for their skins. Even at these pursuits but very few whites were engaged, the most of the hunters being Indians, of the St. Regis nation, or from some Canadian tribes, who, once a year, made an excursion up the Rackett for two or three months, and then returned with their spoils to then- home on the St. LawTence. Joe had frequently proposed to me to accompany him in one of his expeditions ; and circumstances now seemed to favor the plan. "I'll tell you what it is now," he exclaimed, as we took our seats upon the trunk of a fallen tree. "I'll tell you what it is, you can't do nothing here. There's no decent game within ten miles of us. The psalm-singing, and praising the Lord has knocked all business in the head, and broke up the Academy; so you haintno school to go to ; well, you won't pray, j^ou can't study, and you can't hunt ; so what on earth is the use of staying here. No, go along with me for three or four weeks, and I'll show you some sport that would even make that tarnal old scoundrel, Deacon Zeb, stop his snuffle, and haw-haw right out like a decent Avhite man. What do j'ou say to a wolf ! Pooh ! thej^ are not worth the poAvder and shot, unless you can shoot two at a time. But what do you say to a bear or tw-o ; real old fellow^s, that will take half a dozen balls in the body and still make a respectable fight! Why, I'll do still better by you than that; if JOE DOWNS, THE TRAPPER. 43 I don't put you right along-side of the biggest catamount 3"ou ever heard tell of, my name aint Joe. I vnR, 'pon my word. You shall stand right \mder the tree, and take him in the eye just as he is about to spiing upon you. There's nothing better for the nerves. It kind of braces them up, and you feel always afterwards just as though you could shoot the de\'il." " But, Joe !— " "Oh, there's no but about it. If you don't kill him dead, I'll just stand one side and won't say a word, and you can take it out — fan- play — with hatchet and knife. 'Pon my word you shall have a chance to kill a catamount, if you can't stir for three weeks afterwards." Joe's promises were too tempting to be resisted. There were no studies, or recitations; and vacation, when I was to retmn home, would take place in about a month ; giving me just time enough for the excursion. " When shall we start ?" I demanded. " Oh, to-morrow or next day if you're a mind to. I've got my old bark-canoe all nicely patched up, and my rat-traps all fixed. You just get a couple of blankets and your shooting and fishing fixings all m order, and mind and bring along a strong pickerel line. I'll show you a pond up there where the youngest infants of a genteel pickerel's family weigh at least three pounds." " Shall we have any company ?" I inqviired. " No, not a white face Avithin forty miles of us. There'll be plenty of red-skins — half a dozen canoes went up the river yesterday, but they ain't of no accoimt. They are a poor, lying, cheating, stealing set of vagabonds. There is^^ one of them that I'd trust within a mile of my camp." ^*»~- "But don't you ever have any difficulty with them?" " Why, no, not what you may call real down right difficulty. We used to a good many years ago, but now, although they'll murder you if they get a chance for a pack of skins, they don't vally a scalp. No — since I finished off one of the biggest 44 KALOOLAH. scoundrels in tlie whole St. Regis nation, 1 haint been troubled." " How was that?" " Why, I'll tell you : you see it was way towards Tupper's Lake. There had been a light fall of snow, and I was scouting round, when I happened to make a circumbendibus, and came across my own tract, and there 1 saw the marks of an Indian's foot right on my trail. Think's I, that is kind of queer ; the fellow must have been following me ; howsomever, I'll try him and make sure ; so I made another large cu'cle, and again struck my own track, and there was the tarnal Indian's foot again. Says I this won't do ; I must find out what this customer wants, and how he'll have it. So I stopped short, and soon got sight of him ; he knew that I saw him, so he came along up in the most friendly manner you can think. But I didn't like his looks, he was alto- gether too darned glad to see me. He had no gim, but he had an almighty long-handled tomahawk, and a lot of skins and rat- traps. Thinks I, may be, old fellow, your gun has bm-st, or you've pawned it for rum, and you can't raise skins enough to redeem it, and you want mine, and perhaps you'll get it." " At last I grew kind of nervous ; I knew the fellow w-ould hatchet me if I gave him a chance, and yet I didn't want to shoot him right down just on suspicion. But I thought, if I let him cut my throat first, it would be too late to shoot him afterwards. So I concluded that the best way Avould be to give him a chance to play his hand ; and, if it so be, he'd lead the wTong card, why I should have a right to take the trick. Just then at tlie right time a partridge flew into a climip that stood five or six rods off. So I kind of 'nceuvred roimd a little. I drew out my ramrod as if to feel whether the ball in my rifle was well down, but instead of returning it again, 1 kept it in my hand, and without letting the vagabond see me, I got out a handful of powder. I then saimtered off to the bush, shot the partridge, and in an instant passed my hand over the muzzle of my rifle, and dropped the powder in. I picked up the bird, and tlu'n just took and run my ramrod right down JOK UOW.VS STORY. 4o upon the powder. Now he thought was his chance before I loaded my gun agaui. He came towards me with his hatchet in his hand. I saw that he was determined to act wicked, and began to back off; he still came on. I lowered my rifle and told him to keep away. He raised his tomahawk, gave one yell, a^d bounded right at me. When he was just about three or fom- feet from the muzzle, I fired. You never see a fellow jump so. He kicked his heels up in the air and came down plump on his head." " Dead ?" " Dead as Julius Caesar. He never winked ; the ramrod — a good hard, tough piece of hickory — had gone clean through him, and stuck out about two feet from his back. Sarved him right ; did'nt it?" " Certainly. I don't see what else you could have done." " Nor I, nother. But I am sorry I took his traps. Howsom- ever, I didn't keep them long. I gave them away to a half-drowned redskin, who had lost his in trying to cross the river, right at the head of the big wolf chute. There's a stoiy about that too ; but we'll put it off till we get up to our camp. So, what do you say ? shall we go ?" " Agreed," said I. And in a few words our plans were all laid, and we returned to town to make arrangements for carrjang them out. Arrived at my room, I found a long letter from my mother. How well I recollect its contents, although years have elapsed since I have read it. There was nothing in it that strack me at the mo- ment as very important, but it afterwards acquked a peculiar inte- rest — it was her last. " My health," she ■wrote, " has not been nearly so good as when you were last here. In fact, I have been quite unwell ; and that is the reason I have not wi'itten to you — I did not wish to give any unnecessaiy alarai. I have now comparatively recovered, and the doctor says that I shall be as strong as ever (which is not promising much you know) in a few days. I know I should be quite well 48 KALOOLAH. were it not for the anxiety I feel, my dear son, respecting you. You are arriving at that age when it is necessary to think pretty seriously of the course in life which you intend to pursue. You have given up, like a dutifid son, as you have generally been to me, your determination to go to sea, but I know that you still cherish a secret longing for that kind of life. In your case it is natural, and perhaps it is an employment that is well adapted to your taste and character; and yet, although I have a melancholy presentiment that your fate will one day give you enough of the ocean, I cannot consent. But even if I could, it is now too late. You are almost eighteen, and to enter the "National Ser\'ice" with any hope of arriving at a respectable rank before you are an old man, you ought to have commenced three or four years ago. Captain H says there are even sometimes midshipmen at only twelve years of age, and as to the merchant service, it is a very dif- ferent thing from what it was years ago. He says it " 'taint as it used to be," and he knows all about it. There are no wars or block- ades, or even pirates; and no chance for either fortune or adventure ; I know you would not like that at all. ******* Now I am very anxious that you shoidd enter upon some business or profession that would suit you, and I have been ha^■ing a long talk with Dr. S. upon the subject. He says that you are cut out exactly for a physician ; that he knows that you like the study, that during the vacations, when you've been here, you have read half the books in his librar}% and that you knoAV more about anatomy and "doctor stuff" now, than a great many me- dical students. He says that "he's confident you'd make a first- rate surgeon, and that is saying a great deal, for it requires as great a combination of the highest qualities to make a great surgeon as to make a great general, or any other kind of great man." I hope that you will like the notion. It is a most respectable pro- fession, and you can do so much good in it, and there must be so many curious adventures, and so much excitement. Why, a MY mother's letter. 4*1 doctor must have enough every day to try head, heart and hand ; and just see how much they all like their profession, and how much influence it gives them. I know that it will suit you, and, my dear son, it would give me so much pleasure. Think of it seriously. Yoiu- education is nearly completed. President B writes to me that you are far in advance of all your classes, and coidd easily take a degree in any college in the Union. I'm sorry you would'nt go to college, Jonathan ; but then it would have taken you so far from home, and you have so kindly given up yom* deteimination of gomg to sea, and have made so much out of your advantages, that I can't complain. In fact I am not soiTy at aU, and now if you'll only make up yom* mind to com- mence the study of medicine, I shall be quite happy. Come home then, and if there is anytliing wanting to finish off your classical studies, why there is a yovmg man here, ovu* new parson, who is said to be the best scholar in the country ; he's in ill health and sphits, and I've been doing all I could to comfort and con- sole hmi, and he always says that he will do anytliing for you. He'll read Homer and Aristotle with you, and all the Greeks if you wish, and I really beheve he would rather do that than preach, for the folks here don't seem to imderstand his sennons, so if you come home, and conclude to study medicine, you will begin imdcr the best avispices; you can go down to New- York and attend your courses of lectm'es; and when you have gTaduated, perhaps my health will require a sea voyage, and it wiU do you good, Dr. S - says, to \'isit Paris, and may be we'll go and enjoy the sea together. In the voyage, perhaps you will learn to like the sea less, and I to Uke it better. * * * * - * * ^ It is now one month to your vacation, but I have just heard some reports which make me somewhat curious to know what you are doing. You have alluded to the revival, in one of your letters, but I had no idea that it had gone so far as they say it has, or that there was anything strikingly or strongly opposed to a proper cul- 48 KAI.OOLAH. tivated christian taste. You know how deeplj' and ardently I have wished to impress you with a proper sense of religion, but I have no sympathy with the passionate enthusiasm — the mere animal ex- citement which has recently been so common in this neighborhood. I think that I can trust your taste and good sense ; however, you might better come home Avithout waiting for your vacation. Upon the whole, I think that you might better come immediately. ******* I wrote a hasty answer to my mother's letter, expressing my assent to her proposition, and infonning her that the remainder of the temi I had determined to devote to an expedition into the woods, which I thought would have a very beneficial effect upon my health, and enable me to commence the study of medicine with much greater \4gor. The letter Avas dispatched, and in a few hours all my arrangements were made to join the old trapper upon my first grand hunt. CHAPTER VI. A hunting expedition. — Meeting with Indians. — A secret cavern. — Mr. Downs' opinions of the Indians. — Indians sueing for assault and battery. — Encamp- ment in the pine barrens. — One way to cook fish. — Deer shooting by torch light. Our outfit was simple enough. I took with me a rifle and a double-ban-elled fowling-piece, with plenty of powder, ball and shot, &c. together with an ample assortment of fishing tackle, a pocket telescope, two blankets, a pouch of pepper and salt, and a bao- of crackers. Joe brought with him his rifle, axe, blanket and traps, an iron jack to hold a light of pine knots in the bow of our boat, and a bag of wheat and Indian meal. MY FIRST ADVENTURE. 49 Thus supplied we launched our light birchen canoe upon the river at early day break, and were soon gliding rapidly along the winding and narrow channel formed by the numerous little islands which intervene between the village and the foot of the first rapid or falls. Arrived at the rapids, we were compelled to vmload our canoe and carry it and our baggage around some distance to reach the smooth water above — a performance which we found occasion to repeat not unfrequently in the course of our voyage. The labor, however, though rather arduous, was far from distressing; our baggage being di\'idedinto parcels of light weight, with the ex- ception of our canoe. This, however, though rather large and heavy for its kind, was not too much for Joe alone, who would "catch" his shoulder under the "gunnel" and trot off with it for a mile or so without stopping. Of course I could not allow myself to feel un- equal to any exertion which the old man (who was also my inferior in size and weight) was capable of making. Working "with a wiU," the portages seemed short, and when launched again, paddling the canoe was merely an agreeable exercise. It was on the second morning of om* voyage that I was aroused from the sweetest and most profound sleep that I had ever enjoyed, by the voice of Joe: "Come, come, Mr. Jonathan, it's tune to start. Don't you hear the black-birds, and they aint very early risers. Come let's bimdle our traps into the canoe and you shall crack two or three of the darkies over, as we go by the willow islands. They are as fat as butter, and will make a first rate breakfast when we get up to 'Blue Ledge Point.' " I awoke and gazed around ; I could at first scarcely comprehend my position. Our canoe had been hauled up on land and turned over our baggage to protect it from the rain or dew. At my feet, as I lay wrapped in my blanket, were the smouldering embers of our evening fire ; the dark overshadowing masses of trees on one side, and the bluish sheen of the rippling river on the other, were just veiled by the purple light, which began to appear in the east. I 3 50 KALOOLAH. etaxted up — opened my eyes — rubbed them — stared at Joe, the woods, the stream, the clouds, and felt the exciting conviction nish upon my mind, that at last I was engaged in a veritable adventure. In ten minutes our canoe was launched and loaded, and we were again afloat. It grew momentarily hghter, imtil at last the lagging 'sun popped up suddenly his full-orbed face above the horizon, shed- ding a flood of gloiy upon forest, glade, and stream. " Take your gun now," said Joe, " while I'll paddle along close by the willows of that island — just see how thick they are — you can get three or four at a shot." " Not at them ! not at them ! " exclaimed Joe, as I was taking aim, " they are too far in — we shall have to Avade in the mud for them. Wait till you can catch 'em on the edge of the Avater. But — hush ! I hear voices." We listened, and could distinctly hear some low guttural sounds, and the occasional plash of the water on the other side of the long narrow mud island. Resuming my paddle, we soon shot ahead, so as to command a \iew of the opposite channel. At the instant that we reached the head of the island, a canoe, manned by three Indians, came in sight close along side of us, and followed by several others a little further down. " Sago — sago neechie," shouted Joe. " Good morning — how do you do?" The savage wielding the stem paddle of the foremost canoe turned upon vis a coimtenance, the natural diabolical expression of which was not duninished by a few patches of black paint. A scowl of intense hatred and mahce was his only reply to oiu* sa- lutation, as with a sweep of his paddle he tm^ned the bow of his boat from us, and with a few Angorous strokes shot it ahead. " Oh ! I know you, you sneaking scoundrel," growled Joe, be- tween his clenched teeth, " I know you, and I'll make you know me if you don't look out. But here comes Captain Pete, he's al- most the only decent chap in the whole tribe." The other boats now came up to us. Their crews returned MEETING WITH INDIANS. 51 oiir salutations with apparent good will. We even rested upon our oars, and had quite a long chat about the weather, the game, and the prices of powder, shot, and musk-rat skins, " Who was that pohte fellow in the first canoe ?" I demanded, as we turned off and resumed our course. " His name," rephed Joe, " is Blacksnake, and a darned good name it is for him. He's black enough as you see, and he's a re- gular snake at heart. I'm afraid I shall have to put stones on his tail one of these days, as the boys do when they catch his name- sake." " But, what's the difficulty ?" I inquired. " He did'nt seem to look at you in the most loving temper." " Why, no, and I must allow he hasn't any very great reason. You see he's the brother of that fellow I was telhng you about — the one that I pinned with the ramrod ; and there's a whole lot of relations. They don't know exactly that I did it, but they kind of conceit that I did, and that's just about as bad." "And have they never sought to revenge his death ?" " Certainly ! I was leaning out of the second story door- way of Jone's shop one day, looking across the river, when, whiz, a rifle bullet came and buried itself in the door post. I hain't the least doubt that that very identical Blacksnake sent it. Thank God, his aim was not as good as his will ! He's a bad chap. Why I really believe it was he who murdered my old friend Dan White, the trap- per. If I only knew it was the fact, I wish I may be stuck forked end uppermost in a coon hole, if I woiddn't send a ball through his painted old brain-case tliis ere very identical minute. Dam your skin," energetically growled Joe, shaking his fist at the distant canoe. " But how is it that you have escaped until this time ?" I in- quired. " Blacksnake and his friends must have had opportunities enough of setthng your business for you, if they had sought them. How long is it since you killed that fellow ?" " Why, about three years," replied Joe, " but then you see they 52 KALOOLAH. are such thundermg cowards. They would hke to fix me, but they daresn't. They know it isn't so easy to catch me asleep ; and besides that, they are kind o' fraid of the law ever since the Indian was himg for killuig a white man up in Brown's settlement. They don't hke hanging, and they'll take pretty good care how they do anytliing to bring their necks into the noose. No, the fellows know the law just as well as white men. Why, I once cleared away the gromid in a little open piece of woods, about a mile out of town, and thought I'd make a melon patch. Well, I planted some, and they came on to grow very nice, and I calculated that being as how they were all open, and no fence around them, that nobody would be so mean as to steal them. But one day I found that somebody had been at 'em, and had picked all the ripe ones, and had trod down the vines, and done a monstrous sight of damage. I saw that there had been a good many fellows at work, and they had left a pretty broad trail ; so I just started oft' upon it, and about a quarter of a mile I found six great red devils squatted do\vn, and a grunting, and a giggling, and a sucking my water melons, just as though they had bought and paid for them. I tell you I was almighty mad, and there happened to be lying just right, a broken hoop that had been pretty well straightened by the rain. I seized that, and jumped right into the midst of them, and the way I did lather them fellows was really ridiculous. The hoop was tough and limber, and every time I'd strike it would double clear round their bodies. Such a dancinsc and screaming, and capering you never did see ! They soon scatter- ed themselves, I tell you — the fat lazy old war chief last. He made a spring at a rail fence, and I believe would have gone over it at the first jump, although he carried weight with his two pounds of pew- ter and brass rings in his ears, but just as he cleared the ground I wollopped the hoop around him and snaked him back, head over heels; he gathered himself hke a frightened deer, and cleared the fence next jump easy. And Avhat do you think those fellows did?" " What on 'arth do you think they did ?" demanded Joe. SCENFRY OF THE RIVER. 53 " I can't imagine, I'm sure," I replied. " No ! I know you can't ! You couldn't guess if you should try a week. They went and took the law of me — 'pon my word they did ! The justice said they deserved the licking, but he must fine me five dollars. I told him I thought that was very reasonable, and if I caught them at my melon-patch again, I'd take ten dollars worth at the same rate." Our conversation did not interrupt the continued and vigorous strokes of om* paddles, which forced our fight canoe along the sur- face of the water with a rapidity which gave one hardly time to ob- serve the striking natural featm'es of the scenery by which we were surrounded. In some places the river contracted its banks until it was almost overshadowed by the densely wooded height; at others, expanded itself into little silvery lakes, dotted with islands, crowded with ducks of several species, and afive with fish. The shores varied at each instant in their colors and forms, verdant flats, low marshes, overhanging with willows ; rolling hillocks, and lofty ledges of red freestone succeeded each other with a perfect prodigafity of pictu- resqueness ; while at every few miles, some tributary creek would open up such a A-ista of inviting beauty, that at times I could -with difficulty resist an inclination to arrest the progress of the canoe and propose an exploration. My companion, however, would hardly have consented to such a waste of time; and I was therefore com- pelled to suffer the painful sentiment of a sense of beauty lost for ever, as we gfided so rapidly by. " Here's something that I want to show you," said Joe, as he turned our canoe into a narrow channel not more than ten feet wide, that ran between a httle islet and the lofty bank of rock, which rose almost perpendicularly directly from the water, to a height of some seventy feet. "You wouldn't think," continued Joe, "that five hundred men might bestowed within ten feet of us, and with- out the least danger that the most thorough search could discover them ?" I looked all around ; at the little island, which barelv concealed 64 KALOOLAH. our canoe from the main channel, and at the sohd wall of smooth rock that towered overhead. " You don't beheve it !" said Joe. I shook ray head. " Well, I'll show you. Do you see that little ledge jutting out from the face of the rock, about ten feet above there ? Well, you'd think that it Avas no more than two feet broad, and that it was close to the bank, but you'd make a great mistake: it stands out clear three feet at least, and right behind it is a large hole that leads to one of the nicest caves you ever did see. It's as dry as a bone, and I don't believe that anybody without ■vvings ever looked into it except myself." " You see I was coming along here one day, three or four years ago, Avhen all of a sudden I heard a noise on the top of the clilT; I looked \ip, and there I saw a young catamount, scrambhng up that little old oak ; he stretched himself out on that branch and looked down upon me so kind of impudent, I thought I'd take a crack at him. I raised my rifle, and fired ; and down he came — ker-chunk — right on the edge of the precipice. He gave a jump or two, but it was the Avrong way, and down he came right along the face of the wall, and right on that ledge. I thought he'd bound off, and perhaps tumble aboard of me ; but he didn't ; he stopped short, and went right out of sight. Thinks I, that's queer. I must see about that. So I pushed right in here, between these two stones, and fastened my canoe to this bush." Suiting the action to the word, Joe stopped and fastened our boat, and we both commenced climbing the face of the rock, by means of two or three jutting points, that could hardly have been observed from the river, until we had reached the ledge. "Here!" said Joe, "I found the critter, right behind this. I pulled him out, and then I thought I'd see where this opening went to. — Come in, come in!" We entered and found ourselves in an iiregular but roomy apartment. The dim light, as we had no torches with us, enabled A SECRET CAVERN. 65 me to form but a very iudefinite idea of its size, but I could not but think what a palace it would have been thought by the Trog- lodytes, of whom I had just been reading in Herodotus. Several large cracks and orifices led off to other parts of the cavern ; but as we had no light, and Joe was aniious to get to the camping gi'ound, which he had selected some six or eight miles above, I had no opportimity of examining it very closely at the time, although afterwards I had good cause to know it better. "I've shown this to you," said Joe, "but I wouldn't have it known to any one else for a good deal of money. It has sened me often to hide my traps or a bundle of skins in. There's no danger of a skulking Indian finding them there. It can't be seen from above, and no one woidd begin to think of it from below unless they happened to tumble a panther into it as I did." Two or three miles fmther brought us to the largest lake, or expansion of the river, that we had yet seen. It burst upon us as we rounded the rocky promontory, which had hidden it from our view, like some scene of enchantment, and I thought at the time, that were I the master of aU the genii of the Arabian Nights, I could not have commanded for my own especial admiration and en- joyment, a more dehcious and picturesque scene. But neither space nor time will permit me to imdertake a description. " Beautiful ! beautiful !" I exclaimed, droppmg my paddle, and gazing with dehght. " Yes, it's fii-st rate," rephed my companion. " There's lots of deer all along here for ten miles, up to the head of the lake, and muski-ats are as plenty as blackberries on them islands, and around them flats. But do you see them pine woods yonder? that's our place. It's just about half way up the lake, and a capital spot for a camp — dry as a bone — plenty of wood, and no mosquitoes." And Joe mdustriously plied his paddle in the direction he pointed. We soon reached the spot indicated — the edge of an extensive pine barren, no underwood obstructed the \iew through the gigan- 66 KALOOLAH. tic trees, which towered their lofty heads to the clouds ; and in some places not even the scantiest vegetation held the moveable sand, that whirled in the gusts of wind around the stui-dy trees with the uncontroled freedom of the desert. Our baggage was soon landed, a place selected, and prepara- tions made for erecting our hut. A few saplings and bushes from the edge of the river were all that were required, and in a few hours we had a comfortable wigwam — completely sheltered from the weather on three sides, and a husce log fire blazina in front. An hour more, and a couple of black squirrels hung dangling from the ends of sticks implanted in the ground, and inclined at an angle to- wards the fire, while a magnificent trout was broiling upon the glowing embers, and diffusing a most savory odor, which soon brought nvunerous lupine and vulpine visitors, who, by their how- ling, snuffing and scampering around our camp, seemed to envy us om* luxiuious repast. A thin cake of Indian meal, skilfully mixed by the old trapper, and baked upon a heated stone, com- pleted the materials for our supper. — And such a supper ! I thought of the petits soupers of Aspasia, and of Alcibiades ; and of LucuUus and the purple chamber, with feelings of the most perfect contempt. " Yes, as you say," exclaimed the old man, " this fish is first rate, but it ain't a circumstance to what can be done in the cooking way. I'll tell you how you can cook a fish to make it taste just as you please. We'll try it some day. You take some nice clean clay and work it up a little, then catch your trout — or any other kind of fish — and don't scale or dress him, but just plaster him all over with the clay about an inch thick, and put him right into the hot ashes. When he's done the clay and scales will all peel oS", and you'll have a dish that would bring to life any starved man, if he hadn't been dead more nor a week. That's the natural way" — au naturel, Joe would have said, had he been acquainted with the technicalities of the cuisine — " but if you want an extra touch, cut a hole in him, and stick in a piece of salt poik or bear's feet, and a HUNTING BY TORCH LIGHT. 67 few beachnuts, or the meat of walnuts or butternuts, and Lord bless you, you'd think you was eating a water angel." "But come!" continued Joe, "we've got through supper, let's stir roimd and do something. It's too late to set the traps, but we can take a shot at the deer." Our boat was soon prepared. The jack, or light iron grate was erected upon a stake in the bow, at the height of six or seven feet. Soon from it flamed a blazing fire of pine knots, throwing its Ught far around and beneath the surface of the calm clear water, and illuminating the giant trees and wild rocks of the shores with the most curious effects of light and shade. The trapper stationed himself directly beneath the hght, rifle in hand, while I cautiously and silently plied the paddle. A plashing in the water along the bank of the lake, where the deer had come down to drink and refresh themselves with a standing bath in the cool water, betray- ed the game to Joe's practised ear. Our canoe slowly approached them. The simple animals, startled, but fascinated by the mysterious light, stood stupidly gazing at the flaming jack, and allowed us to approach within two or three rods. The spell that held them was broken by the crack of the rifle, and one of their number fell instantly dead with a ball through the brain. We obtained five the first night. The next day was spent in looking up muskrat tracks, and setting our traps, and in the even- ing the deer-shooting was resumed with equal success. In this way several days glided by with nothing to disturb the perfect enjoyment of the scene, except an occasional doubt as to how my mother would like my escapade. 8* CHAPTER VII. A friendly warning. — A night visit from Indians. — Downs dangerously wounded. — Retreat to the secret cavern. — Jonathan's medical Jind culi- nary skill. — Life in a cave in the woods. — Recovery of Joe. k A week had passed — a week that, tested by the home associa- tions which woidd once in a while intnide themselves, seemed long, but which measured by the current feelings of the moment, seemed but as an hour. It is thus the flight of time is ever noted : brood- ing over the reminiscences of the past, or the hopes of the future, time seems a laggard, and we are tempted to direct all the offen- sive weapons we can muster, against the lazy fellow as he floats on sluggish pinions by ; absorbed in the engagements, the thoughts, or the duties of the present, with what fearful and relentless velo- city he passes, we no longer think of " kiUing " him any more than we should think of killing the eagle as he stoops in the very majes- ty of speed, with a wild startling rush and whir from his lofty perch upon the finny prey that his appearance has frightened from the clutches of some straofolina hawk. A week had passed, and as yet we had met Avith no very extra- ordinary or thrilHng adventure. I had no.t even seen a panther or a bear. The ordinary routine of deer-shooting and muskrat-catching employed us so fully, that we had not had time to look for them, but the interest and excitement of that occupation was beginning to flag. I began to long for something more piquant. It was just at the close of a laborious day, that I took the canoe and pushed out into the lake for the purpose of procuring the pis- catory portion of our evening meal ; no diflicult job, as may be sup- posed, where the fish were so plentiful and so imsophisticated — so utterly imaccustomed to the specious illusions of the baited hook. I had captiu-ed enough for the appetites of any two ordinary ichthy- ophagi, and was debating with myself the exceeding impropriety of A FRIENDLY WARNING. 69 continuing the sport merely as sport, wlien a giniff, guttural saluta- tion struck my ear, and a canoe with a single Indian, who I imme- diately recognized as Captain Pete, glided alongside. " The general — where is him '?" demanded the captain. The general, was a title m which I knew that Joe sometimes luxuriated, especially with his Indian friends, although I was igno- rant of the source, or the manner in which it had been acquu'ed. I replied, that the general was ashore at the camp, and would be glad to see a friend that he thought so much of, as I knew that he did of Captain Pete. "No," said the captain, "no, stay — ^you tell him look out — Blacksnake bad man — he mean bad — I know him — tell general to sleep with one eye — take plenty care. You tell hira ?" " Certainly, I'll tell him — " " Good !" and the capt;iin dropped his paddle into the water and urged his hght birchen bark towards the opposite side of the lake. There was something in the captain's voice and manner that conveyed far more meaning than his woi'ds. I saw that he was in earnest, and that he, at least, entertained the conviction that Joe was in some danger. My suspicions, and I must confess to some little extent my fears, were thoroughly aroused. I had heard so much of Indian revenge, that notwithstanding Joe's contempt for the semi-civilized and wholly demoralized red-skins that were about us, I was disposed to beUeve them still equal to those daring and bloody deeds that authentic history, as well as doubtful tradi- tion, have so often described. 1 was sorry I had not questioned Captain Pete a little, but he had started away so abraptly, having evidently wished to convey his warning without being seen hngering in the neighborhood of our camp, that I had not time to fairly re- cover myself before he was out of hearing. However, Joe will be able to form some judgment of the extent and character of the dan- ger that threatens us, thought I, as I pulled up my anchor and made all haste to the shore. 60 KALOOLAH. " Pooh! pooh!" said Joe, as I finished my story, " 'taint nothing worth thinliing of. Captain Pete is a good old fellow, and he's al- ways been a warm friend, as he ought to be, since I have done him some good turns in my time: but he don't know over much. He's afraid of Blacksnake himself, and he tliinks he's doing a sendee by trying to frighten me." Joe's assurances were far from satisfying me. I could easily perceive that Captain Pete's message had made a much greater impression upon him than he was willing to allow. While I was telling my stor}^ he had looked around for his rifle — had taken it up, examined the flint and priming, and passed the ramrod dowTi to be sure that it was loaded, all the time listening with evident interest, and asking questions that betrayed not quite so much recklessness as he endeavored to assume. " Pooh ! pooh !" said Joe, as he turned oflF and rested his rifle against the corner of our hut; but I was fai* from being assured either by his tone or his words. " You seem," said I, at the conclusion of quite a long and hot argument, in which I defended the received notions of Indian cha- racter. " You seem, Mr. Downs, to have a poor opinion of red-skin courage." " That I have, and with good reason too. I don't know what they might have been once, but 1 know that rum and cixilization have made them a poor, sneaking, cowardly set. Now oflf to the west they are a little better; but even there, they're no great shakes. Why I was out there with Harrison, in Tecumseh's time, and I know that a deuced sight of nonsense has been written and talked about the ' lords of the forest ' as you call 'em. There was not a scout in the army that valued a single Indian more nor the snap of his thumb. They can't shoot — can't run — can't row — can't swim — can't do anything with a white man, unless it is to stai-ve longer, and that they have been brought up to. You see I'm a small man, and an old man, but if I can't hck, in fair fight, any single Indian you can pick up between here and the Rocky Mountains, my name A FRIENDLY WARNING. 01 aint Downs, and I aint given to bragging much neither. They are just like them wolves," and Joe pointed to a lot of lupine attendants, that, as usual, were howling about at a respectful distance from our camp. "They are just hke them wolves; they'll hang around just as though they would eat you, and if you move a step towards them, they'll run like so many sheep." "Well, well," said I, "it may be as you say, we won't argue the subject any further — but I must say, that if Blacksnake feels towards you as you think he does, he has got no Indian blood ia him if, sooner or later, he does not contrive to get a shot at you. Why I shouldn't wonder if he was prowling round here this very night." Joe laughed. " You laugh," said I, " but tell me, what is there to prevent him?" " Nothing on earth," replied Joe, " excepting that he's afraid. I tell you he no more dares to come within speaking distance of this old tool," touching his rifle, "than one of them wolves dares to come in here and help himself to fat out of that stew-pan." " Well," said I, " if there is no more danger than that, we're safe enough. There's no wolf yonder fool enough to give us a fair sight of his countenance, so as I want a Avolf-skin badly, I'll just step out and try once more if I can't get a shot at these noisy cow- ards, that you hken the ' lords of the forest ' so contemptuously to." Taking up my double-baiTelled gun, I carefully loaded it with a full charge of heavy buck-shot. " Go roimd by the right," replied Joe, " and you'll hem 'em in between the lake and our fire ; and perhaps you'll get a chance to take one of the fellows as they rush by you." Following his directions, I started off, making a small detour, and leaving the trapper seated before the fire industriously platting a deer-skin rope. Long after I had passed out of sight of the camp into the shade of the tall woods, I could see his figure fully revealed in the flashing hght of the pine-log fire. 68 KALOOLAH. The niglit was an impressive one : there was something heavy and threateninof in the air, although there were no decided indica- tions of a storm. The wind caine sluggishly across the bosom of the lake, sliglitly Aviinkling its sturface, and sighing with gentle but exceedingly mournful tones among the tops of the lofty trees. It is curious what different sounds are produced by winds of equal force at dift'erent times in the same place. It is true the pheno- menon can be explained by reference to the comparative tempera- ture, moisture, and density of the atmosphere ; but the diflference of those tones has a meaning to many ears that cannot be explained away with the explanation of the physical cause. In this instance the wind had perhaps additional significance from its harmony with my feelings — it was a foreboding wind. The moon too, seemed triste as she worked her way through the masses of fleecy clouds, occasion- ally darting upon the surface of the ruffled lake a beam that was instantly broken into a thousand sparkling gems of light, and anon hiding behind some jealous cloud, as if glad for a moment to fly the sight of a bad earth. It was altogether such an evening as the Huntsman of the Hartz would have selected for a pleasant moonlight ride. But although as sensible to the spiritual influences of the wea- ther as I have ever been impassive to its physical effects, I had but a short time to indulge in the mere sentiment of the time and scene. The wolves were much the most interesting objects of the moment, and fully occupied my attention. I had succeeded in approaching a party of them without being perceived. ** I could not see them, but I could distinguish the spot, from their noises, at which they were congregated, and was slowly and cautiously clos- ing in upon them. I had arrived within about fifty yards of the lake, and some three or four hundred yards below our camp, tlie hght of which I could clearly see, when a sudden rush took place, and the gaunt forms of hrilf a dozen of the famished wretches flit- ted by me. I raised my gun. and A\-ith fin