Chapter Twenty Eight.The Menagerie, Aviary, and Botanic Garden.“We were busy of course every day, as we had plenty of work to do. We laid a floor in our cabin, and fenced a couple of fields—one to plant our corn in, and the other to keep Pompo from straying off into the woods, and meeting with some animal that might feel inclined to devour him. We also succeeded in killing several red-deer and a couple of elk, which we stored up for our winter provision. We did not find the black-tails very palatable, and most of their flesh went to feed Castor and Pollux.“Cudjo was the busiest of all of us. He made several household utensils which proved of great service to us. He also constructed for himself a wooden plough, which would serve every purpose—as there was a considerable portion of the ground that was without turf, and could be easily turned. This part had been covered with beautiful flowers, such as sunflowers, red and orange-coloured poppies, and asclepias. It was almost a pity to plough them up.“With an eye to the future scarcity of our ammunition, we had begun to practise hunting with a weapon which would answer all our purposes almost as well as the rifle—still keeping the latter of course for great occasions. We had found some of thebois d’arc, or “Osage orange,” as it is called, growing in the valley. This is the famous bow-wood of the Indians; and taking a hint from these children of Nature, we made three bows, stringing them—as the Indians do—with the sinews of the deer. For arrows, we had the straight cane-reeds; and Cudjo made us a set of barbs out of iron spikes that we had taken from the wagon. With daily practising at a mark, before the winter was over, we were all three able to use our new weapons to some purpose; and Harry, to his mother’s great delight, could bring down a squirrel from the top of the highest tree in the valley. As a marksman, both with the bow and rifle, he was quite superior to Frank, who, instead of feeling jealous, seemed rather to be proud of the skill of his brother. Harry, during all the winter, kept our table loaded with partridges, squirrels—of which there were several species—hares, and wild turkeys; the last of which, being much finer than tame ones, of course we were all very fond of.“My wife, too, added largely to the delicacies of our table. During the last days of autumn, she made several botanical excursions—of course, all of us accompanying her by way of guard—and in each of these some useful production was discovered. We found several species of wild fruits—currants, cherries, and a small fruit known as the “serviceberry,” which grew in great profusion. All these fruits were gathered in quantity, and made into preserves. We obtained roots as well—one of which was thepomme-blanche, or Indian turnip; but the most interesting of all was the wild potato, which we dug up—for, in fact, it is only upon the table-lands of America where that plant is indigenous. We should not have recognised it as an old acquaintance, but for the botanical knowledge of my wife. Its roots were not larger than wren’s eggs, and we could find so few of them that, in its wild state, we saw it would be of no use to us as an article of food. Mary, however, had hopes, that by cultivation, we might produce larger ones; so we collected all the tubers we could fall in with, and kept them for seed.“Out of the pods of the honey-locust, we brewed a very agreeable sort of beer; but we were able to extract a still more generous beverage from the wild or fox-grapes that grew in all parts of the valley. While travelling through France, I had learnt how wine was made; and our vintage succeeded to perfection. On the winter nights, as we sat around our cheerful log-fire, Mary was accustomed to deal out to us a measure a-piece of the exhilarating drink. It was only, however, after a hard day’s work or hunting, that we were allowed to draw upon this precious store.“About this time, a new idea entered into my mind, which I communicated to the others, and with which they all fully agreed. It was this:—To capture as many of the wild animals as we could, and endeavour to domesticate them to our uses. I was prompted to this purpose by various considerations. First, because I saw, although there were several kinds of deer in the valley, there were but few of each kind; and it was not likely that for many years they had been upon the increase. Nature had so disposed it, that these creatures had been regularly thinned off every year by the numerous beasts of prey that prowled through the valley. Now, an additional enemy was added to the number of their destroyers; and I foresaw that, unless some precaution should be taken, the deer would soon become so scarce and wild, that we should find it difficult to obtain enough for our uses. Could we only kill off the fierce beasts—such as panthers, and wolves, and wolverenes—that preyed upon them, then the whole valley would become our deer-park, and the deer would soon increase to any number we wanted. This, however, we could not do; and, in fact, the beasts of prey were as likely to master us as we them—for none of us were safe in venturing into the thick woods alone; and whenever the boys made a short excursion from the glade, their mother was always in a state of anxiety until they returned. In fact, every hunt we made was attended with considerable danger, as we always fell in with the tracks of wolves, panthers, and even bears; and we frequently saw these animals skulking through the underwood. We knew that in time our powder must run out, and then our rifles would be useless to us. Our bows and arrows would then avail us but little against such thick-hided monsters as these. We only hoped that when we became better acquainted with the habits of these carnivorous creatures, we should be enabled to destroy them in traps, and thus thin them off at our leisure, and without wasting our ammunition. This, of course, would constitute a branch of our employment; and, besides being a work of utility, would furnish us with an excitement not the less agreeable because it was hazardous. Could we, therefore, collect a few of the more useful animals into an enclosed park, they would soon propagate and increase; and then the trouble as well as danger which we experienced in hunting them would be at an end. We knew that our maize-corn, yielding two crops in the year, would enable us to supply them abundantly with food.“There was still another consideration which had its weight in these plans. I was very fond of the study of natural history—particularly that branch of it relating to quadrupeds—and I foresaw the pleasure of observing the habits of these wild creatures. We should not, therefore, confine ourselves to making ‘pets’ of those animals that might merely serve us for food. We should embrace in our collection all that we could subject to our rule, whether gentle or fierce. In fact, it was our intention to establish a regular ‘menagerie of the Desert.’“The main object of our industry and prospective wealth—that is, the collection of the beaver fur—would not in any way interfere with these plans. The beavers, in short, would give as very little trouble—as the drying and preserving the skins of those we should trap would only occupy us a small portion of the year.“Harry entered with more spirit into my designs than any of the others; for Harry, like myself, was fond of quadrupeds. Frank, on the other hand, was a great bird-catcher; and recommended that we should include birds in our menagerie. To this, of course, we assented freely. Mary had her own designs already shaped out; and these were, to gather all the plants and trees that might be either curious or useful, and to observe what effect cultivation would produce upon them—in short, it was her wish to form a complete ‘botanical garden.’“To each, then, was given a separate department. Harry and I were designated ‘beast-tamers;’ Frank the ‘bird-tamer;’ while Mary was appropriately styled the ‘tree-tamer.’ To Cudjo was assigned a very important share of the labour. He was to enclose the park for our deer, as well as the grounds for the botanic garden. He was also to make our traps and cages—all of which things Cudjo knew how to do, and how to do them well. Of course, we were to assist him, as well as each other, in carrying out our designs.“Thus, our plans for the future were interesting to all of us. In our various pursuits, we should be enabled to employ all our idle time. We had no books, either to amuse or instruct us; but we knew that we should derive both instruction and amusement from the study of the greatest of all books—the book of Nature.”
“We were busy of course every day, as we had plenty of work to do. We laid a floor in our cabin, and fenced a couple of fields—one to plant our corn in, and the other to keep Pompo from straying off into the woods, and meeting with some animal that might feel inclined to devour him. We also succeeded in killing several red-deer and a couple of elk, which we stored up for our winter provision. We did not find the black-tails very palatable, and most of their flesh went to feed Castor and Pollux.
“Cudjo was the busiest of all of us. He made several household utensils which proved of great service to us. He also constructed for himself a wooden plough, which would serve every purpose—as there was a considerable portion of the ground that was without turf, and could be easily turned. This part had been covered with beautiful flowers, such as sunflowers, red and orange-coloured poppies, and asclepias. It was almost a pity to plough them up.
“With an eye to the future scarcity of our ammunition, we had begun to practise hunting with a weapon which would answer all our purposes almost as well as the rifle—still keeping the latter of course for great occasions. We had found some of thebois d’arc, or “Osage orange,” as it is called, growing in the valley. This is the famous bow-wood of the Indians; and taking a hint from these children of Nature, we made three bows, stringing them—as the Indians do—with the sinews of the deer. For arrows, we had the straight cane-reeds; and Cudjo made us a set of barbs out of iron spikes that we had taken from the wagon. With daily practising at a mark, before the winter was over, we were all three able to use our new weapons to some purpose; and Harry, to his mother’s great delight, could bring down a squirrel from the top of the highest tree in the valley. As a marksman, both with the bow and rifle, he was quite superior to Frank, who, instead of feeling jealous, seemed rather to be proud of the skill of his brother. Harry, during all the winter, kept our table loaded with partridges, squirrels—of which there were several species—hares, and wild turkeys; the last of which, being much finer than tame ones, of course we were all very fond of.
“My wife, too, added largely to the delicacies of our table. During the last days of autumn, she made several botanical excursions—of course, all of us accompanying her by way of guard—and in each of these some useful production was discovered. We found several species of wild fruits—currants, cherries, and a small fruit known as the “serviceberry,” which grew in great profusion. All these fruits were gathered in quantity, and made into preserves. We obtained roots as well—one of which was thepomme-blanche, or Indian turnip; but the most interesting of all was the wild potato, which we dug up—for, in fact, it is only upon the table-lands of America where that plant is indigenous. We should not have recognised it as an old acquaintance, but for the botanical knowledge of my wife. Its roots were not larger than wren’s eggs, and we could find so few of them that, in its wild state, we saw it would be of no use to us as an article of food. Mary, however, had hopes, that by cultivation, we might produce larger ones; so we collected all the tubers we could fall in with, and kept them for seed.
“Out of the pods of the honey-locust, we brewed a very agreeable sort of beer; but we were able to extract a still more generous beverage from the wild or fox-grapes that grew in all parts of the valley. While travelling through France, I had learnt how wine was made; and our vintage succeeded to perfection. On the winter nights, as we sat around our cheerful log-fire, Mary was accustomed to deal out to us a measure a-piece of the exhilarating drink. It was only, however, after a hard day’s work or hunting, that we were allowed to draw upon this precious store.
“About this time, a new idea entered into my mind, which I communicated to the others, and with which they all fully agreed. It was this:—To capture as many of the wild animals as we could, and endeavour to domesticate them to our uses. I was prompted to this purpose by various considerations. First, because I saw, although there were several kinds of deer in the valley, there were but few of each kind; and it was not likely that for many years they had been upon the increase. Nature had so disposed it, that these creatures had been regularly thinned off every year by the numerous beasts of prey that prowled through the valley. Now, an additional enemy was added to the number of their destroyers; and I foresaw that, unless some precaution should be taken, the deer would soon become so scarce and wild, that we should find it difficult to obtain enough for our uses. Could we only kill off the fierce beasts—such as panthers, and wolves, and wolverenes—that preyed upon them, then the whole valley would become our deer-park, and the deer would soon increase to any number we wanted. This, however, we could not do; and, in fact, the beasts of prey were as likely to master us as we them—for none of us were safe in venturing into the thick woods alone; and whenever the boys made a short excursion from the glade, their mother was always in a state of anxiety until they returned. In fact, every hunt we made was attended with considerable danger, as we always fell in with the tracks of wolves, panthers, and even bears; and we frequently saw these animals skulking through the underwood. We knew that in time our powder must run out, and then our rifles would be useless to us. Our bows and arrows would then avail us but little against such thick-hided monsters as these. We only hoped that when we became better acquainted with the habits of these carnivorous creatures, we should be enabled to destroy them in traps, and thus thin them off at our leisure, and without wasting our ammunition. This, of course, would constitute a branch of our employment; and, besides being a work of utility, would furnish us with an excitement not the less agreeable because it was hazardous. Could we, therefore, collect a few of the more useful animals into an enclosed park, they would soon propagate and increase; and then the trouble as well as danger which we experienced in hunting them would be at an end. We knew that our maize-corn, yielding two crops in the year, would enable us to supply them abundantly with food.
“There was still another consideration which had its weight in these plans. I was very fond of the study of natural history—particularly that branch of it relating to quadrupeds—and I foresaw the pleasure of observing the habits of these wild creatures. We should not, therefore, confine ourselves to making ‘pets’ of those animals that might merely serve us for food. We should embrace in our collection all that we could subject to our rule, whether gentle or fierce. In fact, it was our intention to establish a regular ‘menagerie of the Desert.’
“The main object of our industry and prospective wealth—that is, the collection of the beaver fur—would not in any way interfere with these plans. The beavers, in short, would give as very little trouble—as the drying and preserving the skins of those we should trap would only occupy us a small portion of the year.
“Harry entered with more spirit into my designs than any of the others; for Harry, like myself, was fond of quadrupeds. Frank, on the other hand, was a great bird-catcher; and recommended that we should include birds in our menagerie. To this, of course, we assented freely. Mary had her own designs already shaped out; and these were, to gather all the plants and trees that might be either curious or useful, and to observe what effect cultivation would produce upon them—in short, it was her wish to form a complete ‘botanical garden.’
“To each, then, was given a separate department. Harry and I were designated ‘beast-tamers;’ Frank the ‘bird-tamer;’ while Mary was appropriately styled the ‘tree-tamer.’ To Cudjo was assigned a very important share of the labour. He was to enclose the park for our deer, as well as the grounds for the botanic garden. He was also to make our traps and cages—all of which things Cudjo knew how to do, and how to do them well. Of course, we were to assist him, as well as each other, in carrying out our designs.
“Thus, our plans for the future were interesting to all of us. In our various pursuits, we should be enabled to employ all our idle time. We had no books, either to amuse or instruct us; but we knew that we should derive both instruction and amusement from the study of the greatest of all books—the book of Nature.”
Chapter Twenty Nine.Trapping the Beasts and Birds.“Harry was the first who succeeded in making a capture; and that was a pair of grey squirrels, which he had trapped at the bottom of their tree. For these a large cage was constructed, and they soon became so tame that they would take the nuts provided for them out of our hands. These, of course, were only idle pets; but they added much to our company and amusement, as we watched them in their antics around the bars of their cage, now springing from point to point, and now sitting monkey-like, and gnawing the nuts as they held them between their fore-paws.“Shortly after this event, Frank became the hero of the hour; and his achievement was one of considerable importance. For some time, he had been keeping his eye upon the wild turkeys; and for the purpose of securing some of them alive, he had constructed, not far from the house, a species of penn—which is known in America by the name of ‘log-trap.’ This was a very simple contrivance. It was made of split rails, such as Cudjo used for his fences; and these were placed upon one another, so as to enclose a hollow square between them. They were raised about the height of an ordinary fence from the ground, while other rails—heavy ones—were laid over the top, close enough to prevent the turkeys, should they enter, from escaping, but not so near each other as to darken the interior of the trap, and so render it forbidding in its appearance. The entrance was the main contrivance, although it was not an original idea with Frank. It was upon a plan similar to the wire cages used for trapping rats—where the rat can easily find its way in, but has not sufficient cunning to know the road out again. Precisely as the wire funnel is constructed for the rats, Frank had made one of rails for his turkeys; and waited patiently until some of them should enter it. He placed various kinds of seeds and roots within the enclosure; but several days passed, and no birds were taken.“After some practice, the ‘bird-catcher’ became able to imitate the ‘gobbling’ of the old cock? so exactly that at some distance off in the woods, you could not tell but that it was one of themselves. By this means, he could call the turkeys up to the ground where he himself lay concealed; but the seeds he had baited his trap with were not sufficiently enticing, and none of them would go under the rails. At length, however, he hit upon an expedient, which was sure to succeed, if anything could. He had shot one of the turkeys with his arrows; and taking it into the trap, he carefully propped it up—so that it appeared to be still alive, and busy feeding upon his bait. He then retired to some distance; and, hiding himself among the brushwood, ‘gobbled’ as before. Three large birds soon made their appearance, coming cautiously through the woods. Of course, like all wild turkeys, they were down upon the ground—stalking along just like so many ostriches. At length, they came in sight of the penn, and seeing one of their own kind;—quietly feeding, as they thought, within it—they approached fearlessly, and ran around the enclosure, seeking for an entrance. Frank lay watching all their movements; and his heart, at this moment, was thumping against his ribs. His anxiety did not long endure. The three great birds soon found the wide funnel; and, without hesitating, ran up it and appeared inside the trap. Frank sprang from his lurking-place; and, running forward, first shut up the entrance by filling it with stones. Then climbing upon the top, he slipped through between the rails; and secured the birds by tying their legs together with a stout thong of deerskin. When he had lifted them out of the trap, he again adjusted everything—leaving the ‘decoy turkey’ quietly feeding as before—and shouldering his prize, he marched off in triumph. His return to the house was greeted with exclamations of joy; and a rail penn was immediately built for the birds, similar to the trap in which they had been caught, but, of course, without the funnel or entrance. The only regret we had was, that the three were all cocks—regular ‘old gobblers.’“Next day, however, Frank remedied this by making a still more important capture. On returning to visit his trap before sunrise, he saw from a distance that there was a live turkey inside, with a number of smaller birds, which in the grey light appeared like so many partridges. On getting nearer, to his surprise and delight, he found that what he had taken for partridges was a large brood of young turkeys, and that which he had first seen was their mother. The little ones were running out and in, for they could easily pass between the rails, while the mother ran around, thrusting her head out of the penn, and occasionally spreading her wings and flapping upwards, endeavouring to escape in that direction. The young were all making a great ado, and evidently aware that their mother was ‘in the trap.’“Frank, fearing that the youngsters might get off if he attempted to approach them alone, came back to the house, and summoned Harry, Cudjo, and myself, to his assistance. To make sure of them, we took with us the long canvass tilt of the wagon with a couple of blankets fastened to it at the end. We adopted every precaution, as we looked upon capturing this young brood as a thing of great importance—since we could bring them up quite domesticated, and from them should breed as many more as we pleased. We approached the penn with all due caution; and when near we separated, each of us taking a side. We then advanced upon the trap, completely surrounding it; and, while the birds ran confusedly from side to side, we stretched the tilt and blankets all around the penn, thus cutting off their retreat. In a few moments we had secured both the old hen and her chicks—amounting, in all, to no less than eighteen of them! This was a capture, indeed; and we immediately hurried back to the house with them, not forgetting to take along with us the ‘decoy turkey’—which, being a fine fat fellow, and killed only the day before, served us for a very good dinner. For the turkey hen and young we built another penn, near to that where we had imprisoned the three ‘old gobblers.’ The one last constructed was made with more care and closer between the rails, so that the youngsters might not get out and wander off.“Frank again baited his log-trap, and used for a decoy one of the gobblers, which he tied by the leg to a rail. In this way several others were caught; when the birds at length became shy, and kept away from the penn altogether. However, we had now as many as we could feed, until our corn should ripen and be gathered.“From this time every day saw new additions to our aviary. Frank had procured the bark of theilex opaca, or American holly; and this, when macerated in water, and then fermented and cleared of its fibres, made the very best bird-lime. A large cage had been constructed out of bow-wood with the straight reeds of the cane, and divided into many compartments—so that birds of different species should be separated from each other. In a short time the cage was seen to contain specimens of the blue-jay and red-bird, or Virginia nightingale, orioles of several species, and doves of two distinct kinds. There were also several Carolina paroquets; and Frank had succeeded in capturing a bird of a very rare kind, which, I believe, is known to the Indians as the ‘wakon.’ It was the American bird of paradise; and, like those of the Eastern world, had several long feathers growing from its tail, and stretching away gracefully behind it. In the cage were also finches of different varieties, and beautiful bright plumage. Among others were the green bird, the redstart, and the cock of the woods; the little blue bird also, the red-winged starring, and the orange-headed troupiale—which last species migrated in large flocks into the valley. There was a number of small cages, which had been constructed for the smallest of all birds—the humming-birds—and Frank had caught no less than a dozen different kinds of these most beautiful creatures, which he daily supplied with fresh flowers. Another cage, apart from all the rest, held an inmate that; so far as appearance went, you would have said had no right to be thus distinguished in having a house all to himself. He was of a sober grey colour, somewhat of the wagtail shape, with long black legs, and claws of a dirty hue; and was altogether an ill-favoured bird, not any better-looking than a common house-sparrow. Had you known nothing more about him than his outward appearance, you would hardly have deigned to waste a second look upon him. The moment, however, his black bill was opened, and his lead-coloured throat became expanded in a song, you forgot all about the dull hue of his plumage. You all at once forgot the bright wings of the paroquet, and the beautiful form of the oriole; the red-bird, the blue-jay, and the wakon, were alike forgotten, and you gazed upon this sweet musician with delight and admiration. As you continued to listen, you would notice that he mimicked almost every sound that occurred within hearing. When any of the others commenced to sing, he would catch the strain—as it were, from their lips—and, giving it in a far higher and bolder tone, shame them into silence. This, I need hardly tell you, was the famous mock-bird—the nightingale of America.“While Frank was daily increasing his stock of winged creatures, Harry was not idle among the quadrupeds. No less than five kinds of squirrels had been caught and caged. These were the grey, black, and red or fox varieties of the tree squirrel, and two species of ground squirrel—one the common hackee, or chipping squirrel; while the other was a new species, which we had caught on the desert plain above, among the roots of theartemisiaplant. This last was a beautiful little creature, not much larger than a mouse, and striped like a little zebra. It has never—as far as I can tell—been described by naturalists; and on this account, as well as from its peculiar size and beauty, it was a general favourite with all of us, particularly with Luisa and Mary, in whose laps it soon learnt to sleep, like a tamed mouse.“Besides the squirrels, Harry’s collection embraced a hare and a couple of raccoons. These last were the produce of a night-hunt or two which Cudjo had made with the dogs; and although these fox-like animals were by no means useful pets, yet they gave a variety to our collection, and added to our amusement in the observation of their curious habits.”
“Harry was the first who succeeded in making a capture; and that was a pair of grey squirrels, which he had trapped at the bottom of their tree. For these a large cage was constructed, and they soon became so tame that they would take the nuts provided for them out of our hands. These, of course, were only idle pets; but they added much to our company and amusement, as we watched them in their antics around the bars of their cage, now springing from point to point, and now sitting monkey-like, and gnawing the nuts as they held them between their fore-paws.
“Shortly after this event, Frank became the hero of the hour; and his achievement was one of considerable importance. For some time, he had been keeping his eye upon the wild turkeys; and for the purpose of securing some of them alive, he had constructed, not far from the house, a species of penn—which is known in America by the name of ‘log-trap.’ This was a very simple contrivance. It was made of split rails, such as Cudjo used for his fences; and these were placed upon one another, so as to enclose a hollow square between them. They were raised about the height of an ordinary fence from the ground, while other rails—heavy ones—were laid over the top, close enough to prevent the turkeys, should they enter, from escaping, but not so near each other as to darken the interior of the trap, and so render it forbidding in its appearance. The entrance was the main contrivance, although it was not an original idea with Frank. It was upon a plan similar to the wire cages used for trapping rats—where the rat can easily find its way in, but has not sufficient cunning to know the road out again. Precisely as the wire funnel is constructed for the rats, Frank had made one of rails for his turkeys; and waited patiently until some of them should enter it. He placed various kinds of seeds and roots within the enclosure; but several days passed, and no birds were taken.
“After some practice, the ‘bird-catcher’ became able to imitate the ‘gobbling’ of the old cock? so exactly that at some distance off in the woods, you could not tell but that it was one of themselves. By this means, he could call the turkeys up to the ground where he himself lay concealed; but the seeds he had baited his trap with were not sufficiently enticing, and none of them would go under the rails. At length, however, he hit upon an expedient, which was sure to succeed, if anything could. He had shot one of the turkeys with his arrows; and taking it into the trap, he carefully propped it up—so that it appeared to be still alive, and busy feeding upon his bait. He then retired to some distance; and, hiding himself among the brushwood, ‘gobbled’ as before. Three large birds soon made their appearance, coming cautiously through the woods. Of course, like all wild turkeys, they were down upon the ground—stalking along just like so many ostriches. At length, they came in sight of the penn, and seeing one of their own kind;—quietly feeding, as they thought, within it—they approached fearlessly, and ran around the enclosure, seeking for an entrance. Frank lay watching all their movements; and his heart, at this moment, was thumping against his ribs. His anxiety did not long endure. The three great birds soon found the wide funnel; and, without hesitating, ran up it and appeared inside the trap. Frank sprang from his lurking-place; and, running forward, first shut up the entrance by filling it with stones. Then climbing upon the top, he slipped through between the rails; and secured the birds by tying their legs together with a stout thong of deerskin. When he had lifted them out of the trap, he again adjusted everything—leaving the ‘decoy turkey’ quietly feeding as before—and shouldering his prize, he marched off in triumph. His return to the house was greeted with exclamations of joy; and a rail penn was immediately built for the birds, similar to the trap in which they had been caught, but, of course, without the funnel or entrance. The only regret we had was, that the three were all cocks—regular ‘old gobblers.’
“Next day, however, Frank remedied this by making a still more important capture. On returning to visit his trap before sunrise, he saw from a distance that there was a live turkey inside, with a number of smaller birds, which in the grey light appeared like so many partridges. On getting nearer, to his surprise and delight, he found that what he had taken for partridges was a large brood of young turkeys, and that which he had first seen was their mother. The little ones were running out and in, for they could easily pass between the rails, while the mother ran around, thrusting her head out of the penn, and occasionally spreading her wings and flapping upwards, endeavouring to escape in that direction. The young were all making a great ado, and evidently aware that their mother was ‘in the trap.’
“Frank, fearing that the youngsters might get off if he attempted to approach them alone, came back to the house, and summoned Harry, Cudjo, and myself, to his assistance. To make sure of them, we took with us the long canvass tilt of the wagon with a couple of blankets fastened to it at the end. We adopted every precaution, as we looked upon capturing this young brood as a thing of great importance—since we could bring them up quite domesticated, and from them should breed as many more as we pleased. We approached the penn with all due caution; and when near we separated, each of us taking a side. We then advanced upon the trap, completely surrounding it; and, while the birds ran confusedly from side to side, we stretched the tilt and blankets all around the penn, thus cutting off their retreat. In a few moments we had secured both the old hen and her chicks—amounting, in all, to no less than eighteen of them! This was a capture, indeed; and we immediately hurried back to the house with them, not forgetting to take along with us the ‘decoy turkey’—which, being a fine fat fellow, and killed only the day before, served us for a very good dinner. For the turkey hen and young we built another penn, near to that where we had imprisoned the three ‘old gobblers.’ The one last constructed was made with more care and closer between the rails, so that the youngsters might not get out and wander off.
“Frank again baited his log-trap, and used for a decoy one of the gobblers, which he tied by the leg to a rail. In this way several others were caught; when the birds at length became shy, and kept away from the penn altogether. However, we had now as many as we could feed, until our corn should ripen and be gathered.
“From this time every day saw new additions to our aviary. Frank had procured the bark of theilex opaca, or American holly; and this, when macerated in water, and then fermented and cleared of its fibres, made the very best bird-lime. A large cage had been constructed out of bow-wood with the straight reeds of the cane, and divided into many compartments—so that birds of different species should be separated from each other. In a short time the cage was seen to contain specimens of the blue-jay and red-bird, or Virginia nightingale, orioles of several species, and doves of two distinct kinds. There were also several Carolina paroquets; and Frank had succeeded in capturing a bird of a very rare kind, which, I believe, is known to the Indians as the ‘wakon.’ It was the American bird of paradise; and, like those of the Eastern world, had several long feathers growing from its tail, and stretching away gracefully behind it. In the cage were also finches of different varieties, and beautiful bright plumage. Among others were the green bird, the redstart, and the cock of the woods; the little blue bird also, the red-winged starring, and the orange-headed troupiale—which last species migrated in large flocks into the valley. There was a number of small cages, which had been constructed for the smallest of all birds—the humming-birds—and Frank had caught no less than a dozen different kinds of these most beautiful creatures, which he daily supplied with fresh flowers. Another cage, apart from all the rest, held an inmate that; so far as appearance went, you would have said had no right to be thus distinguished in having a house all to himself. He was of a sober grey colour, somewhat of the wagtail shape, with long black legs, and claws of a dirty hue; and was altogether an ill-favoured bird, not any better-looking than a common house-sparrow. Had you known nothing more about him than his outward appearance, you would hardly have deigned to waste a second look upon him. The moment, however, his black bill was opened, and his lead-coloured throat became expanded in a song, you forgot all about the dull hue of his plumage. You all at once forgot the bright wings of the paroquet, and the beautiful form of the oriole; the red-bird, the blue-jay, and the wakon, were alike forgotten, and you gazed upon this sweet musician with delight and admiration. As you continued to listen, you would notice that he mimicked almost every sound that occurred within hearing. When any of the others commenced to sing, he would catch the strain—as it were, from their lips—and, giving it in a far higher and bolder tone, shame them into silence. This, I need hardly tell you, was the famous mock-bird—the nightingale of America.
“While Frank was daily increasing his stock of winged creatures, Harry was not idle among the quadrupeds. No less than five kinds of squirrels had been caught and caged. These were the grey, black, and red or fox varieties of the tree squirrel, and two species of ground squirrel—one the common hackee, or chipping squirrel; while the other was a new species, which we had caught on the desert plain above, among the roots of theartemisiaplant. This last was a beautiful little creature, not much larger than a mouse, and striped like a little zebra. It has never—as far as I can tell—been described by naturalists; and on this account, as well as from its peculiar size and beauty, it was a general favourite with all of us, particularly with Luisa and Mary, in whose laps it soon learnt to sleep, like a tamed mouse.
“Besides the squirrels, Harry’s collection embraced a hare and a couple of raccoons. These last were the produce of a night-hunt or two which Cudjo had made with the dogs; and although these fox-like animals were by no means useful pets, yet they gave a variety to our collection, and added to our amusement in the observation of their curious habits.”
Chapter Thirty.The Biters Bit.“Our next was a fishing excursion. As I have said, Cudjo had already discovered that our stream contained fish, and had caught several of them. They were something like bass, although differing considerably from the common species. Nevertheless they were very delicious eating, and we were all very fond of them.“We set forth in the morning, but on this occasion we left Pompo and his cart behind, as we had not far to go—only a short distance down the stream, where Cudjo knew a large pool in which the fish were plenty. We took with us lines, made out of the wild flax that grows in the valley, and which, Mary tells us, is found in all countries that border upon the Rocky Mountains. Our rods were long tapering canes such as grew in abundance around us. For hooks we used pins bent into the proper shape; and our bait consisted of a variety of worms. All these things were carried by Harry and Frank, while Cudjo and I took the younger ones in our arms, and Mary was left free to botanise as we passed along. Castor and Pollux accompanied us of course; and Pompo, as he saw us leave the house, ran neighing around his enclosure, as if quite vexed at our leaving him behind. Cudjo, of course, became our guide, taking us through the woods to that part of the stream where was his favourite fishing-ground.“After travelling at our leisure about a quarter of a mile, we were all brought to a sudden halt by an exclamation from my wife, who stood pointing at some trees a little to one side of the path.“‘What, mamma!’ cried Harry, ‘another fine tree? Why, the real bread-fruit and the cocoa-nuts will turn up yet, I believe, in spite of our latitude.’“‘I am sorry for your sake, Harry,’ replied his mamma, ‘as well as our own, that I have not made the discovery of another fine tree. No, it is quite another thing, and not a very useful discovery. But it may be curious to you; and papa, here, can read you a chapter of natural history upon it. It is in his line. It is a four-footed animal.’“‘Animal!’ exclaimed Harry; ‘I see no animal. Where is it, mamma?’“‘Nor do I,’ replied his mother; ‘but I see indications of the presence of one, and a very destructive one, too. Look there!’“As Mary said this, she pointed to a grove of young cotton-wood trees, from which the bark and leaves were stripped off as cleanly as if they had been gnawed by goats, or scraped with a knife. Some of the trees were quite dead, while others of them were freshly peeled, and only waited for a little time to go to decay also.“‘Oh, I see what you mean now, mamma,’ said Harry. ‘Some animal has done this—but what one? The beavers cannot climb; and I am sure neither squirrels, raccoons, nor opossums, would take the bark from trees in that manner.’“‘No; it was none of them. Your papa can best inform you what sort of animal has been so destructive to these young trees, which, you perceive, are of the beautiful cotton-wood species,—thepopulus angulatusof botanists.’“‘Come, Harry,’ said I, ‘let us first find the animal if we can.’“We all turned toward the leafless grove. We had not walked many steps in that direction, when the very animal we were in search of appeared on the ground before us. It was quite three feet long, thick, broad in the back, and arched from the nose to the tail. It was of a speckled grey colour, but with the roughest coat of hair that could possibly be imagined. Its head and nose were very small for the size of its body; and its short, stout legs, with their long claws, were scarcely visible under the thick, shaggy hair. Its ears were also buried under the hair; and it looked more like a round tufted mass than an animal. It was down upon the ground; and had evidently perceived our approach, as it was making off through the grass as fast as it could. That, however, was not very fast—not faster than a frog could go—for the animal in question is one of the very slowest travellers.“As soon as I caught sight of it, and saw that it was upon the ground—and not among the branches, where I had expected to find it—I turned round to secure the dogs. I was too late, for these unreasoning animals had already seen it, and, forgetful of the lesson which the skunk had taught them, were dashing forward in full cry. I endeavoured to call them off; but, heedless of our shouts, both rushed on the strange creature at once. The latter, seeing them approach, immediately stopped, buried its head under its breast, seemed suddenly to swell upward and outward to twice its natural size—while its rough thick tail was brandished from side to side in a furious and threatening manner.“We could all now see that that which had appeared to be coarse thick hair was nothing else than long bristling spines, and Harry at once cried out,—“‘A porcupine! a porcupine!’“The dogs, unfortunately for themselves, did not know what it was; nor did they stop to consider, but lashed upon it open-mouthed, as they usually do with any strange animal. They did not hold it long; for the next moment they dropped it, and came running back more open-mouthed than ever—uttering the most piteous howls—and we saw that their noses, lips, and jaws, were sticking full of the sharp quills! Meanwhile the porcupine again stretched himself out; and, crawling to the foot of a tree, commenced climbing up. But Cudjo, who was highly incensed with the treatment which his favourites had received, rushed after; and, knocking down the animal with his spear, soon despatched him.“Harry, who had grown much wiser since his adventure with the skunk, was rather shy of approaching the porcupine—particularly as he had heard that this animal possesses the power of shooting his quills to some distance, and sticking them like arrows into his enemies. Frank inquired if this were true.“‘No,’ I replied; ‘it is only one of those fabulous stories which the ingenious French naturalist, Buffon, so much delighted to recount. The porcupine’s quills may be pulled out easily by anything which presses too rudely against them, such as the mouth of a mastiff; and this because they are very slightly attached by their roots, and have a barb upon their tops that takes hold upon any enemy that may attempt to touch them. This is the only defence the poor animal has got—as it is so slow of foot that any of its enemies can easily come up with it. But, notwithstanding its slowness, most of the fierce creatures find it better to leave the porcupine to himself, and his innocent occupation of “barking” the trees. He generally proves more than a match for any of them; and, in fact, neither wolf, panther, nor wildcat, can kill him—as there is not a spot of his body which they can touch when he prepares himself for their attack. On the other hand, he frequently kills them—only in self-defence, however, as he never attacks any animal, but lives altogether on his simple food, the bark and leaves of trees. The cougar is often found dead in the woods,—his death occasioned by the porcupine’s quills that are seen sticking in his mouth and tongue. So also the lynx has been found, as well as many dogs and wolves.’“So much of the natural history of this strange animal I related to my companions at the time; but, shortly after, an incident was witnessed by Harry and myself which showed us that the porcupine, notwithstanding his bristling armour, had one enemy, at least, who could master him upon occasions. Although it occurred some months after our fishing excursion, now that we are speaking of the porcupine, I shall relate it.”
“Our next was a fishing excursion. As I have said, Cudjo had already discovered that our stream contained fish, and had caught several of them. They were something like bass, although differing considerably from the common species. Nevertheless they were very delicious eating, and we were all very fond of them.
“We set forth in the morning, but on this occasion we left Pompo and his cart behind, as we had not far to go—only a short distance down the stream, where Cudjo knew a large pool in which the fish were plenty. We took with us lines, made out of the wild flax that grows in the valley, and which, Mary tells us, is found in all countries that border upon the Rocky Mountains. Our rods were long tapering canes such as grew in abundance around us. For hooks we used pins bent into the proper shape; and our bait consisted of a variety of worms. All these things were carried by Harry and Frank, while Cudjo and I took the younger ones in our arms, and Mary was left free to botanise as we passed along. Castor and Pollux accompanied us of course; and Pompo, as he saw us leave the house, ran neighing around his enclosure, as if quite vexed at our leaving him behind. Cudjo, of course, became our guide, taking us through the woods to that part of the stream where was his favourite fishing-ground.
“After travelling at our leisure about a quarter of a mile, we were all brought to a sudden halt by an exclamation from my wife, who stood pointing at some trees a little to one side of the path.
“‘What, mamma!’ cried Harry, ‘another fine tree? Why, the real bread-fruit and the cocoa-nuts will turn up yet, I believe, in spite of our latitude.’
“‘I am sorry for your sake, Harry,’ replied his mamma, ‘as well as our own, that I have not made the discovery of another fine tree. No, it is quite another thing, and not a very useful discovery. But it may be curious to you; and papa, here, can read you a chapter of natural history upon it. It is in his line. It is a four-footed animal.’
“‘Animal!’ exclaimed Harry; ‘I see no animal. Where is it, mamma?’
“‘Nor do I,’ replied his mother; ‘but I see indications of the presence of one, and a very destructive one, too. Look there!’
“As Mary said this, she pointed to a grove of young cotton-wood trees, from which the bark and leaves were stripped off as cleanly as if they had been gnawed by goats, or scraped with a knife. Some of the trees were quite dead, while others of them were freshly peeled, and only waited for a little time to go to decay also.
“‘Oh, I see what you mean now, mamma,’ said Harry. ‘Some animal has done this—but what one? The beavers cannot climb; and I am sure neither squirrels, raccoons, nor opossums, would take the bark from trees in that manner.’
“‘No; it was none of them. Your papa can best inform you what sort of animal has been so destructive to these young trees, which, you perceive, are of the beautiful cotton-wood species,—thepopulus angulatusof botanists.’
“‘Come, Harry,’ said I, ‘let us first find the animal if we can.’
“We all turned toward the leafless grove. We had not walked many steps in that direction, when the very animal we were in search of appeared on the ground before us. It was quite three feet long, thick, broad in the back, and arched from the nose to the tail. It was of a speckled grey colour, but with the roughest coat of hair that could possibly be imagined. Its head and nose were very small for the size of its body; and its short, stout legs, with their long claws, were scarcely visible under the thick, shaggy hair. Its ears were also buried under the hair; and it looked more like a round tufted mass than an animal. It was down upon the ground; and had evidently perceived our approach, as it was making off through the grass as fast as it could. That, however, was not very fast—not faster than a frog could go—for the animal in question is one of the very slowest travellers.
“As soon as I caught sight of it, and saw that it was upon the ground—and not among the branches, where I had expected to find it—I turned round to secure the dogs. I was too late, for these unreasoning animals had already seen it, and, forgetful of the lesson which the skunk had taught them, were dashing forward in full cry. I endeavoured to call them off; but, heedless of our shouts, both rushed on the strange creature at once. The latter, seeing them approach, immediately stopped, buried its head under its breast, seemed suddenly to swell upward and outward to twice its natural size—while its rough thick tail was brandished from side to side in a furious and threatening manner.
“We could all now see that that which had appeared to be coarse thick hair was nothing else than long bristling spines, and Harry at once cried out,—
“‘A porcupine! a porcupine!’
“The dogs, unfortunately for themselves, did not know what it was; nor did they stop to consider, but lashed upon it open-mouthed, as they usually do with any strange animal. They did not hold it long; for the next moment they dropped it, and came running back more open-mouthed than ever—uttering the most piteous howls—and we saw that their noses, lips, and jaws, were sticking full of the sharp quills! Meanwhile the porcupine again stretched himself out; and, crawling to the foot of a tree, commenced climbing up. But Cudjo, who was highly incensed with the treatment which his favourites had received, rushed after; and, knocking down the animal with his spear, soon despatched him.
“Harry, who had grown much wiser since his adventure with the skunk, was rather shy of approaching the porcupine—particularly as he had heard that this animal possesses the power of shooting his quills to some distance, and sticking them like arrows into his enemies. Frank inquired if this were true.
“‘No,’ I replied; ‘it is only one of those fabulous stories which the ingenious French naturalist, Buffon, so much delighted to recount. The porcupine’s quills may be pulled out easily by anything which presses too rudely against them, such as the mouth of a mastiff; and this because they are very slightly attached by their roots, and have a barb upon their tops that takes hold upon any enemy that may attempt to touch them. This is the only defence the poor animal has got—as it is so slow of foot that any of its enemies can easily come up with it. But, notwithstanding its slowness, most of the fierce creatures find it better to leave the porcupine to himself, and his innocent occupation of “barking” the trees. He generally proves more than a match for any of them; and, in fact, neither wolf, panther, nor wildcat, can kill him—as there is not a spot of his body which they can touch when he prepares himself for their attack. On the other hand, he frequently kills them—only in self-defence, however, as he never attacks any animal, but lives altogether on his simple food, the bark and leaves of trees. The cougar is often found dead in the woods,—his death occasioned by the porcupine’s quills that are seen sticking in his mouth and tongue. So also the lynx has been found, as well as many dogs and wolves.’
“So much of the natural history of this strange animal I related to my companions at the time; but, shortly after, an incident was witnessed by Harry and myself which showed us that the porcupine, notwithstanding his bristling armour, had one enemy, at least, who could master him upon occasions. Although it occurred some months after our fishing excursion, now that we are speaking of the porcupine, I shall relate it.”
Chapter Thirty One.Battle of the Marten and Porcupine.“It was in the middle of the winter. A light snow had fallen upon the ground—just enough to enable us to follow the trail of any animal we might light upon. Of course, the snow filled us with the idea of hunting; and Harry and I started out upon the tracks of a brace of elk that had passed through our opening during the night. The tracks were very fresh-looking; and it was evident that the animals had passed in the morning, just before we were up. We concluded, therefore, that they had not gone far off, and we hoped soon to come up with them.“The trail led us along the side of the lake, and then, up the left bank of the stream. Castor and Pollux were with us; but in our hunting excursions we usually led them in a leash, so that they might not frighten the game by running ahead of us.“When about half a mile from the house, we found that the elk had crossed to the right bank of the stream. We were about to follow, when, all at once, our eyes fell upon a most singular track or tracks that led off in the direction of the woods. They werethe tracks of human feet—the feet of children!“You may fancy the surprise into which we were suddenly thrown. They were about five inches in length, and exactly such as would have been made by a barefooted urchin of six years old. There appeared to be two sets of them, as if two children had passed, following one another on the same trail. What could it mean? After all, were there human beings in the valley besides ourselves? Could these be the footprints of two young Indians? All at once I thought of the Diggers—theYamparicos—the root-eaters,—who are found in almost every hole and corner of the American Desert. Could it be possible that a family of these wretched creatures existed in the valley? ‘Quite possible,’ thought I, when I reflected upon their habits. Living upon roots, insects, and reptiles,—burrowing in holes and caves like the wild animals around them,—a family, or more, might have been living all this time in some unexplored corner of the valley, without our having encountered any traces of them! Was this really so? and were the tracks before us the footmarks of a brace of young Diggers, who had been passing from point to point?“Of course, our elk-hunt was given up until this mystery should be solved; and we turned off from the trail of the latter to follow that of the children.“In coming out to an open place, where the snow lay smoothly, and the footprints appeared well defined, I stooped down to examine them more minutely, in order to be satisfied that theywerethe tracks of human feet. Sure enough, there were the heels, the regular widening of the foot near the toes, and the toes themselves, all plainly stamped upon the snow. Here, however, arose another mystery. On counting the toes, I found that in some of the tracks there were five—as there should have been,—while in others there were only four! This led me to examine the print of the toes more carefully; and I now saw that each of them was armed with a claw, which, on account of some hairy covering, had made but a very indefinite impression in the snow. The tracks, then, werenotthe footmarks of children, but those of some animal with claws.“Notwithstanding that we had come to this conclusion, we still continued to follow the trail. We were curious to see what sort of a creature had made it. Perhaps it might be some animal unknown to naturalists,—some new species; and we might one day have the merit of being the first to describe it.“We had not far to go: a hundred yards, or so, brought us in sight of a grove of young cotton-woods; and these we saw at a glance were ‘barked’ by a porcupine. The whole mystery was cleared up,—we had been following in the trail of this animal.“I now remembered that the porcupine was one of theplantigradefamily, with five toes on his hind feet, and only four on the fore ones. The tracks were undoubtedly his.“My companion and I were somewhat chagrined at being thus drawn away from our hunt by such an insignificant object; and we vowed to take vengeance upon the porcupine as soon as we should set our eyes upon him. We were not long in doing this,—for as we stole quietly forward, we caught sight of a shaggy animal moving among the branches of a tree about fifty yards ahead of us. It was he, of course. At the same moment, however, another animal ‘hove in sight,’ in appearance as different from the porcupine as a bull from a blue-bottle.“This creature—tail and all—was not less than a yard and a quarter in length, and yet its body was not thicker than the upper part of a man’s arm. Its head was broad and somewhat flattened, with short, erect ears, and pointed nose. It was bearded like a cat, although the face had more of the dog in its expression. Its legs were short and strong; and both legs and body denoted the possession of agility and strength. It was of a reddish-brown colour, with a white mark on the breast, and darker along the back and on the legs, feet, nose, and tail. Its whole appearance reminded one of a gigantic weasel—which in fact it was—the great marten of America, generally, though improperly, called the ‘fisher.’ When we first saw it, it was crouching along a high log, that ran directly toward the tree, upon which was the porcupine. Its eyes were fixed intently upon the latter; and it was evidently meditating an attack. We stopped to watch it.“The porcupine had not yet perceived his enemy, as he was busily engaged in splitting the bark from the cotton-wood. The marten, after reconnoitring him for some moments, sprang off from the log, and came running toward the tree. The other now saw him; and at the same instant uttered a sort of shrill, querulous cry, and appeared to be greatly affrighted. To our astonishment, however, instead of remaining where it was, it suddenly dropped to the ground almost at the very nose of its adversary! I could not at first understand the meaning of this artful movement on the part of the porcupine, but a moment’s reflection convinced me it was sound policy. The marten would have been as much at home on the tree as himself; and had he remained among the branches—which were slender ones—his throat and the under part of his body—both of which are soft and without quills—would have been exposed to the teeth of his adversary. This, then, was why he had let himself down so unexpectedly; and we noticed that the instant he touched the ground, he rolled himself into a round clew, presenting on all sides the formidablechevaux-de-friseof his quills.“The marten now ran around him, doubling his long vermiform body with great activity—at intervals showing his teeth, erecting his back, and snarling like a cat. We expected every moment to see him spring forward upon his victim; but he did not do so. He evidently understood the peril of such an act; and appeared for a moment puzzled as to how he should proceed. All this while, the porcupine lay quiet—except the tail. This was, in fact, the only ‘feature’ of the animal that could be seen, as the head and feet were completely hidden under the body. The tail, however, was kept constantly in motion—jerking from side to side, and flirted occasionally upwards.“What would the marten do? There was not an inch of the other’s body that was not defended by the sharp and barbed quills—not a spot where he could insert the tip of his nose. Would he abandon the contest? So thought we, for a while; but we were soon convinced of our error.“After running around several times, as we have described, he at length posted himself near the hind-quarters of the porcupine, and with his nose a few inches from the tail of the latter. In this position he stood for some moments, apparently watching the tail, which still continued to oscillate rapidly. He stood in perfect silence, and without making a movement.“The porcupine, not being able to see him, and perhaps thinking that he was gone, now waved his tail more slowly; and then suffered it to drop motionless.“This was what the other was waiting for; and, the next moment, he had seized the tail in his teeth. We saw that he held it by the tip, where it is destitute of the thorny spines.“What would he do next? Was he going to bite off the end of the porcupine’s tail? No such thing. He had a game different from that to play—as we soon witnessed.“The moment the marten caught the tail, the porcupine uttered its querulous cries; but the other heeding not these, commenced walking backward, dragging his victim after him. Where was he dragging it to? We soon saw. He was pulling it to a tree, close by, with low branches that forked out near the ground. But for what purpose? thought we. We wondered as we watched.“The porcupine could offer no resistance. Its feet gave way, and slipped along the snowy ground; for the marten was evidently the much stronger animal.“In a short time, the latter had reached the tree, having pulled the other along with him to its foot. He now commenced ascending, still holding the porcupine’s tail in his teeth; taking good care not to brush too closely against the quills. ‘Surely,’ thought we, ‘he cannot climb up, carrying a body almost as big as himself!’ It was not his intention to climb up—only to one of the lowermost branches—and the next moment he had reached it, stretching his long body out on the limb, and clutching it firmly with his cat-like claws. He still held fast hold of the porcupine which was now lifted into such a position, that only its forequarters rested on the ground, and it appeared to stand upon its head—all the while uttering its pitiful cries.“For the life of us, we could not guess what the marten meant by all this manoeuvring.Heknew well enough, as he gave proof the moment after. When he had got the other as it were on a balance, he suddenly sprang back to the ground, in such a direction that the impetus of his leap jerked the porcupine upon its back. Before the clumsy creature was able to turn over and ‘clew’ itself, the active weasel had pounced upon its belly, and buried his claws in the soft flesh, while, at the same time, his teeth were made fast in its throat!“In vain the porcupine struggled. The weasel rode him with such agility, that he was unable to getright side up again; and in a few moments the struggle would have ended, by the porcupine’s throat being cut; but we saw that it was time for us to interfere; and, slipping Castor and Pollux from the leash, we ran forward.“The dogs soon drove the marten from his victim, but he did not run from them. On the contrary, he turned round upon them, keeping both at bay with his sharp teeth and fierce snarling. In truth, they would have had a very tough job of it, had we not been near; but, on seeing us approach, the animal took to a tree, running up it like a squirrel. A rifle bullet soon brought him down again; and his long body lay stretched out on the earth, emitting a strong odour of musk, that was quite disagreeable.“On returning to the porcupine—which our dogs took care not to meddle with—we found the animal already better than half-dead. The blood was running from its throat, which the marten had torn open. Of course, we put the creature out of pain by killing it outright; and taking the marten along with us for the purpose of skinning it, we returned homeward, leaving the elk-hunt for another day.“All this, as I have said, occurred afterwards. Let us now return to the narrative of our fishing excursion.“As soon as the porcupine had been disposed of, we were reminded of the sufferings of our dogs, who had ceased their howling, but required to be relieved of the barbed spines with which their lips were sticking full. We drew them out as easily as we could; but, notwithstanding this, their heads began to swell up to twice the natural size, and the poor brutes appeared to be in great pain. They were fairly punished for their inconsiderate rashness; and it was not likely that they would run their noses against another porcupine for some time to come.”
“It was in the middle of the winter. A light snow had fallen upon the ground—just enough to enable us to follow the trail of any animal we might light upon. Of course, the snow filled us with the idea of hunting; and Harry and I started out upon the tracks of a brace of elk that had passed through our opening during the night. The tracks were very fresh-looking; and it was evident that the animals had passed in the morning, just before we were up. We concluded, therefore, that they had not gone far off, and we hoped soon to come up with them.
“The trail led us along the side of the lake, and then, up the left bank of the stream. Castor and Pollux were with us; but in our hunting excursions we usually led them in a leash, so that they might not frighten the game by running ahead of us.
“When about half a mile from the house, we found that the elk had crossed to the right bank of the stream. We were about to follow, when, all at once, our eyes fell upon a most singular track or tracks that led off in the direction of the woods. They werethe tracks of human feet—the feet of children!
“You may fancy the surprise into which we were suddenly thrown. They were about five inches in length, and exactly such as would have been made by a barefooted urchin of six years old. There appeared to be two sets of them, as if two children had passed, following one another on the same trail. What could it mean? After all, were there human beings in the valley besides ourselves? Could these be the footprints of two young Indians? All at once I thought of the Diggers—theYamparicos—the root-eaters,—who are found in almost every hole and corner of the American Desert. Could it be possible that a family of these wretched creatures existed in the valley? ‘Quite possible,’ thought I, when I reflected upon their habits. Living upon roots, insects, and reptiles,—burrowing in holes and caves like the wild animals around them,—a family, or more, might have been living all this time in some unexplored corner of the valley, without our having encountered any traces of them! Was this really so? and were the tracks before us the footmarks of a brace of young Diggers, who had been passing from point to point?
“Of course, our elk-hunt was given up until this mystery should be solved; and we turned off from the trail of the latter to follow that of the children.
“In coming out to an open place, where the snow lay smoothly, and the footprints appeared well defined, I stooped down to examine them more minutely, in order to be satisfied that theywerethe tracks of human feet. Sure enough, there were the heels, the regular widening of the foot near the toes, and the toes themselves, all plainly stamped upon the snow. Here, however, arose another mystery. On counting the toes, I found that in some of the tracks there were five—as there should have been,—while in others there were only four! This led me to examine the print of the toes more carefully; and I now saw that each of them was armed with a claw, which, on account of some hairy covering, had made but a very indefinite impression in the snow. The tracks, then, werenotthe footmarks of children, but those of some animal with claws.
“Notwithstanding that we had come to this conclusion, we still continued to follow the trail. We were curious to see what sort of a creature had made it. Perhaps it might be some animal unknown to naturalists,—some new species; and we might one day have the merit of being the first to describe it.
“We had not far to go: a hundred yards, or so, brought us in sight of a grove of young cotton-woods; and these we saw at a glance were ‘barked’ by a porcupine. The whole mystery was cleared up,—we had been following in the trail of this animal.
“I now remembered that the porcupine was one of theplantigradefamily, with five toes on his hind feet, and only four on the fore ones. The tracks were undoubtedly his.
“My companion and I were somewhat chagrined at being thus drawn away from our hunt by such an insignificant object; and we vowed to take vengeance upon the porcupine as soon as we should set our eyes upon him. We were not long in doing this,—for as we stole quietly forward, we caught sight of a shaggy animal moving among the branches of a tree about fifty yards ahead of us. It was he, of course. At the same moment, however, another animal ‘hove in sight,’ in appearance as different from the porcupine as a bull from a blue-bottle.
“This creature—tail and all—was not less than a yard and a quarter in length, and yet its body was not thicker than the upper part of a man’s arm. Its head was broad and somewhat flattened, with short, erect ears, and pointed nose. It was bearded like a cat, although the face had more of the dog in its expression. Its legs were short and strong; and both legs and body denoted the possession of agility and strength. It was of a reddish-brown colour, with a white mark on the breast, and darker along the back and on the legs, feet, nose, and tail. Its whole appearance reminded one of a gigantic weasel—which in fact it was—the great marten of America, generally, though improperly, called the ‘fisher.’ When we first saw it, it was crouching along a high log, that ran directly toward the tree, upon which was the porcupine. Its eyes were fixed intently upon the latter; and it was evidently meditating an attack. We stopped to watch it.
“The porcupine had not yet perceived his enemy, as he was busily engaged in splitting the bark from the cotton-wood. The marten, after reconnoitring him for some moments, sprang off from the log, and came running toward the tree. The other now saw him; and at the same instant uttered a sort of shrill, querulous cry, and appeared to be greatly affrighted. To our astonishment, however, instead of remaining where it was, it suddenly dropped to the ground almost at the very nose of its adversary! I could not at first understand the meaning of this artful movement on the part of the porcupine, but a moment’s reflection convinced me it was sound policy. The marten would have been as much at home on the tree as himself; and had he remained among the branches—which were slender ones—his throat and the under part of his body—both of which are soft and without quills—would have been exposed to the teeth of his adversary. This, then, was why he had let himself down so unexpectedly; and we noticed that the instant he touched the ground, he rolled himself into a round clew, presenting on all sides the formidablechevaux-de-friseof his quills.
“The marten now ran around him, doubling his long vermiform body with great activity—at intervals showing his teeth, erecting his back, and snarling like a cat. We expected every moment to see him spring forward upon his victim; but he did not do so. He evidently understood the peril of such an act; and appeared for a moment puzzled as to how he should proceed. All this while, the porcupine lay quiet—except the tail. This was, in fact, the only ‘feature’ of the animal that could be seen, as the head and feet were completely hidden under the body. The tail, however, was kept constantly in motion—jerking from side to side, and flirted occasionally upwards.
“What would the marten do? There was not an inch of the other’s body that was not defended by the sharp and barbed quills—not a spot where he could insert the tip of his nose. Would he abandon the contest? So thought we, for a while; but we were soon convinced of our error.
“After running around several times, as we have described, he at length posted himself near the hind-quarters of the porcupine, and with his nose a few inches from the tail of the latter. In this position he stood for some moments, apparently watching the tail, which still continued to oscillate rapidly. He stood in perfect silence, and without making a movement.
“The porcupine, not being able to see him, and perhaps thinking that he was gone, now waved his tail more slowly; and then suffered it to drop motionless.
“This was what the other was waiting for; and, the next moment, he had seized the tail in his teeth. We saw that he held it by the tip, where it is destitute of the thorny spines.
“What would he do next? Was he going to bite off the end of the porcupine’s tail? No such thing. He had a game different from that to play—as we soon witnessed.
“The moment the marten caught the tail, the porcupine uttered its querulous cries; but the other heeding not these, commenced walking backward, dragging his victim after him. Where was he dragging it to? We soon saw. He was pulling it to a tree, close by, with low branches that forked out near the ground. But for what purpose? thought we. We wondered as we watched.
“The porcupine could offer no resistance. Its feet gave way, and slipped along the snowy ground; for the marten was evidently the much stronger animal.
“In a short time, the latter had reached the tree, having pulled the other along with him to its foot. He now commenced ascending, still holding the porcupine’s tail in his teeth; taking good care not to brush too closely against the quills. ‘Surely,’ thought we, ‘he cannot climb up, carrying a body almost as big as himself!’ It was not his intention to climb up—only to one of the lowermost branches—and the next moment he had reached it, stretching his long body out on the limb, and clutching it firmly with his cat-like claws. He still held fast hold of the porcupine which was now lifted into such a position, that only its forequarters rested on the ground, and it appeared to stand upon its head—all the while uttering its pitiful cries.
“For the life of us, we could not guess what the marten meant by all this manoeuvring.Heknew well enough, as he gave proof the moment after. When he had got the other as it were on a balance, he suddenly sprang back to the ground, in such a direction that the impetus of his leap jerked the porcupine upon its back. Before the clumsy creature was able to turn over and ‘clew’ itself, the active weasel had pounced upon its belly, and buried his claws in the soft flesh, while, at the same time, his teeth were made fast in its throat!
“In vain the porcupine struggled. The weasel rode him with such agility, that he was unable to getright side up again; and in a few moments the struggle would have ended, by the porcupine’s throat being cut; but we saw that it was time for us to interfere; and, slipping Castor and Pollux from the leash, we ran forward.
“The dogs soon drove the marten from his victim, but he did not run from them. On the contrary, he turned round upon them, keeping both at bay with his sharp teeth and fierce snarling. In truth, they would have had a very tough job of it, had we not been near; but, on seeing us approach, the animal took to a tree, running up it like a squirrel. A rifle bullet soon brought him down again; and his long body lay stretched out on the earth, emitting a strong odour of musk, that was quite disagreeable.
“On returning to the porcupine—which our dogs took care not to meddle with—we found the animal already better than half-dead. The blood was running from its throat, which the marten had torn open. Of course, we put the creature out of pain by killing it outright; and taking the marten along with us for the purpose of skinning it, we returned homeward, leaving the elk-hunt for another day.
“All this, as I have said, occurred afterwards. Let us now return to the narrative of our fishing excursion.
“As soon as the porcupine had been disposed of, we were reminded of the sufferings of our dogs, who had ceased their howling, but required to be relieved of the barbed spines with which their lips were sticking full. We drew them out as easily as we could; but, notwithstanding this, their heads began to swell up to twice the natural size, and the poor brutes appeared to be in great pain. They were fairly punished for their inconsiderate rashness; and it was not likely that they would run their noses against another porcupine for some time to come.”
Chapter Thirty Two.The cunning old “’Coon.”“We now continued our journey toward our fishing-ground, Cudjo having hung the porcupine to a tree, with the design of taking it home with him on our return. It was Cudjo’s intention to skin it, and eat part or the whole of it,—a species of food, which he assured us, he had often eaten before, and which tasted equal to young pig. None of us were likely to join Cudjo in such a meal; but at all events, thought we, when the quills and skin are removed, our dogs might get a morsel of it as a reward for their sufferings. This was an object, certainly; as, out of our scanty larder, Castor and Pollux did not fare the best sometimes.“We soon arrived upon the bank of the creek, and close to the pool. This was a long stretch of deep dark water, with a high bank on one side, shadowed over with leafy trees. On the opposite side, the bank was low, and shelved down to the edge—while several logs lay along it, half covered with water, and half of them stretching up against the bank.“We took the high bank for our station, as upon this there was a spot of smooth grassy turf, shaded by beautiful palmetto-trees, where the children could tumble about. Here Mary sat down with them, while the rest of us proceeded to fish. Of course, we could do no more than throw in our lines, and then wait until the fish should be fools enough to bite. We conversed very quietly, lest the noise of our talking should frighten the fish—though this was only an imagination of our own. We had not been watching our floats more than five minutes, when we noticed, here and there, a slight stir in the water; and, in the midst of the little circles thus made, we could see small black objects not unlike the heads of snakes. At first we took them for these. Cudjo, however, knew better than we what they were, for he had often seen them while fishing in the creeks of Virginia.“‘Golly, Massa!’ cried he, as soon as they made their appearance, ‘de creek here am full ob de turtle.’“‘Turtles!’ exclaimed Harry.“‘Yes, Massa Harry,’ replied Cudjo; ‘and as dis nigger lib, de am de real soff-shell turtle! Dat’s de meat for dis child Cudjo,—better dan fish, flesh, fowl, or ’possum,—dat am de soff-shell.’“As Cudjo spoke, one of the turtles ‘bobbed’ up nearly under where we sat; and, from the elongated shape of its head, resembling a snout, and the flexible shell that bent up and down along its edges, as he swam, I saw it was a species oftrionyx, or soft-shelled turtle,—in fact, it was that known astrionyx ferox, the most prized of all the turtle race for the table of the epicure. Here, then, was another luxury for us, as soon as we could catch them.“I turned round; and was on the point of asking Cudjo how this could be accomplished, when I saw that my float went suddenly down, and I felt a pull upon the line. I thought, of course, it was a fish, and commenced handling it; but, to my surprise, on bringing it to the surface, I perceived that I had hooked one of the turtles, and no doubt the same one which had looked up at us but a moment before. He was not a very large one; and we soon landed him; when Cudjo secured him simply by turning him over upon his back. As I learnt from Cudjo, these creatures will eagerly bite at anything that may be thrown into the water and appears strange to them. Of the truth of this we had a curious demonstration shortly afterwards.“In a few minutes more, each of us had taken several good-sized fish; and we still continued watching our rods in silence, when our attention was attracted to the movements of an animal upon the opposite bank, and about one hundred yards below where we sat. We were all well acquainted with this animal; and Harry, the moment he saw it, whispered,—“‘Look, papa! mamma! a ’coon!’“Yes, it was a raccoon. There was no mistaking the broad dark-brown back, the sharp fox-looking face and snout, and the long bushy tail, with its alternate rings of black and yellowish white. The short thick legs, the erect ears, and the white and black marks of the face, were familiar to all of us—for the raccoon is one of the best-known animals in America, and we had it among our pets.“At the sight of the ‘’coon,’ Cudjo’s eyes fairly glistened—for there is no animal that affords so much sport to the negroes of the United States as the ’coon; and he is, therefore, to them as interesting a creature as the fox to the red-coated hunters of England. Hunting the raccoon is one of the principal amusements which the poor slave enjoys, in the beautiful moonlight nights of the Southern States, after he has got free from his hard toil. By them, too, the flesh of the ’coon is eaten, although it is not esteemed much of a dainty. The ’possum is held in far higher estimation. Cudjo’s eyes then glistened as soon as he set them upon his old and familiar victim.“The ’coon all this while had seen none of us, else he would soon have widened the distance between us and himself. He was crawling cautiously along the bank of the creek, now hopping up on a log, and now stopping for a while, and looking earnestly into the water.“‘De ole ’coon go to fish,’ whispered Cudjo; ‘dat’s what he am after.’“‘Fish!’ said Harry.“‘Yes, Massa Harry. He fish for de turtle.’“‘And how will he catch them?’ inquired Harry.“‘Golly, Massa Harry, he catch ’em. Wait, you see.’“We all sat quietly watching his manoeuvres, and curious to witness how he would catch the turtles; for none of us, with the exception of Cudjo, knew how. We knew that it was not likely he would leap at them in the water, for these animals can dive as quickly as a fish; besides they can bite very severely, and would be sure to take a piece out of the ’coon’s skin, should he attack them in their own element. But that was not his intention, as we presently saw. Near the end of one of the logs that protruded into the water, we observed the heads of several turtles moving about on the surface. The raccoon saw them also, for he was stealthily approaching this log with his eyes fixed upon the swimming reptiles. On reaching it, he climbed upon it with great silence and caution. He then placed his head between his fore-legs; and, turning his tail toward the creek, commenced crawling down the log, tail-foremost. He proceeded slowly, bit by bit, until his long bushy tail hung over into the water, where he caused it to move gently backwards and forwards. His body was rolled up into a sort of clew, until one could not have told what sort of a creature was upon the log.“He had not remained many moments in this attitude, when one of the turtles, swimming about, caught sight of the moving tail; and, attracted partly by curiosity, and partly in hopes of getting something to eat, approached, and seized hold of the long hair in his horny mandibles. But he had scarce caught it, before the ’coon unwound himself upon the log; and, at the same time, with a sudden and violent jerk of his tail, plucked the turtle out of the water, and flung him high and dry upon the bank! Then following after, in three springs, he was beside his victim, which with his long sharp nose he immediately turned over upon its back—taking care all the while to avoid coming in contact with the bill-like snout of the turtle. The latter was now at the mercy of the ’coon, who was proceeding to demolish him in his usual fashion; but Cudjo could stand it no longer, and away went he and the dogs, with loud shouts, across the creek.“The chase was not a long one, for in a few seconds the steady barking of the dogs told us that poor ‘coony’ was ‘treed.’ Unfortunately, for himself, he had run up a very low tree, where Cudjo was able to reach him with his long spear; and when the rest of us got forward to the spot, we found that Cudjo had finished him, and was holding him up by the tail, quite dead.“We now went back to our fishing; and although we caught no more of the turtles, we succeeded in taking as many fish as we wanted; and returning to the house, Mary cooked for us a most excellent fish dinner, which we all ate with a keen appetite.”
“We now continued our journey toward our fishing-ground, Cudjo having hung the porcupine to a tree, with the design of taking it home with him on our return. It was Cudjo’s intention to skin it, and eat part or the whole of it,—a species of food, which he assured us, he had often eaten before, and which tasted equal to young pig. None of us were likely to join Cudjo in such a meal; but at all events, thought we, when the quills and skin are removed, our dogs might get a morsel of it as a reward for their sufferings. This was an object, certainly; as, out of our scanty larder, Castor and Pollux did not fare the best sometimes.
“We soon arrived upon the bank of the creek, and close to the pool. This was a long stretch of deep dark water, with a high bank on one side, shadowed over with leafy trees. On the opposite side, the bank was low, and shelved down to the edge—while several logs lay along it, half covered with water, and half of them stretching up against the bank.
“We took the high bank for our station, as upon this there was a spot of smooth grassy turf, shaded by beautiful palmetto-trees, where the children could tumble about. Here Mary sat down with them, while the rest of us proceeded to fish. Of course, we could do no more than throw in our lines, and then wait until the fish should be fools enough to bite. We conversed very quietly, lest the noise of our talking should frighten the fish—though this was only an imagination of our own. We had not been watching our floats more than five minutes, when we noticed, here and there, a slight stir in the water; and, in the midst of the little circles thus made, we could see small black objects not unlike the heads of snakes. At first we took them for these. Cudjo, however, knew better than we what they were, for he had often seen them while fishing in the creeks of Virginia.
“‘Golly, Massa!’ cried he, as soon as they made their appearance, ‘de creek here am full ob de turtle.’
“‘Turtles!’ exclaimed Harry.
“‘Yes, Massa Harry,’ replied Cudjo; ‘and as dis nigger lib, de am de real soff-shell turtle! Dat’s de meat for dis child Cudjo,—better dan fish, flesh, fowl, or ’possum,—dat am de soff-shell.’
“As Cudjo spoke, one of the turtles ‘bobbed’ up nearly under where we sat; and, from the elongated shape of its head, resembling a snout, and the flexible shell that bent up and down along its edges, as he swam, I saw it was a species oftrionyx, or soft-shelled turtle,—in fact, it was that known astrionyx ferox, the most prized of all the turtle race for the table of the epicure. Here, then, was another luxury for us, as soon as we could catch them.
“I turned round; and was on the point of asking Cudjo how this could be accomplished, when I saw that my float went suddenly down, and I felt a pull upon the line. I thought, of course, it was a fish, and commenced handling it; but, to my surprise, on bringing it to the surface, I perceived that I had hooked one of the turtles, and no doubt the same one which had looked up at us but a moment before. He was not a very large one; and we soon landed him; when Cudjo secured him simply by turning him over upon his back. As I learnt from Cudjo, these creatures will eagerly bite at anything that may be thrown into the water and appears strange to them. Of the truth of this we had a curious demonstration shortly afterwards.
“In a few minutes more, each of us had taken several good-sized fish; and we still continued watching our rods in silence, when our attention was attracted to the movements of an animal upon the opposite bank, and about one hundred yards below where we sat. We were all well acquainted with this animal; and Harry, the moment he saw it, whispered,—
“‘Look, papa! mamma! a ’coon!’
“Yes, it was a raccoon. There was no mistaking the broad dark-brown back, the sharp fox-looking face and snout, and the long bushy tail, with its alternate rings of black and yellowish white. The short thick legs, the erect ears, and the white and black marks of the face, were familiar to all of us—for the raccoon is one of the best-known animals in America, and we had it among our pets.
“At the sight of the ‘’coon,’ Cudjo’s eyes fairly glistened—for there is no animal that affords so much sport to the negroes of the United States as the ’coon; and he is, therefore, to them as interesting a creature as the fox to the red-coated hunters of England. Hunting the raccoon is one of the principal amusements which the poor slave enjoys, in the beautiful moonlight nights of the Southern States, after he has got free from his hard toil. By them, too, the flesh of the ’coon is eaten, although it is not esteemed much of a dainty. The ’possum is held in far higher estimation. Cudjo’s eyes then glistened as soon as he set them upon his old and familiar victim.
“The ’coon all this while had seen none of us, else he would soon have widened the distance between us and himself. He was crawling cautiously along the bank of the creek, now hopping up on a log, and now stopping for a while, and looking earnestly into the water.
“‘De ole ’coon go to fish,’ whispered Cudjo; ‘dat’s what he am after.’
“‘Fish!’ said Harry.
“‘Yes, Massa Harry. He fish for de turtle.’
“‘And how will he catch them?’ inquired Harry.
“‘Golly, Massa Harry, he catch ’em. Wait, you see.’
“We all sat quietly watching his manoeuvres, and curious to witness how he would catch the turtles; for none of us, with the exception of Cudjo, knew how. We knew that it was not likely he would leap at them in the water, for these animals can dive as quickly as a fish; besides they can bite very severely, and would be sure to take a piece out of the ’coon’s skin, should he attack them in their own element. But that was not his intention, as we presently saw. Near the end of one of the logs that protruded into the water, we observed the heads of several turtles moving about on the surface. The raccoon saw them also, for he was stealthily approaching this log with his eyes fixed upon the swimming reptiles. On reaching it, he climbed upon it with great silence and caution. He then placed his head between his fore-legs; and, turning his tail toward the creek, commenced crawling down the log, tail-foremost. He proceeded slowly, bit by bit, until his long bushy tail hung over into the water, where he caused it to move gently backwards and forwards. His body was rolled up into a sort of clew, until one could not have told what sort of a creature was upon the log.
“He had not remained many moments in this attitude, when one of the turtles, swimming about, caught sight of the moving tail; and, attracted partly by curiosity, and partly in hopes of getting something to eat, approached, and seized hold of the long hair in his horny mandibles. But he had scarce caught it, before the ’coon unwound himself upon the log; and, at the same time, with a sudden and violent jerk of his tail, plucked the turtle out of the water, and flung him high and dry upon the bank! Then following after, in three springs, he was beside his victim, which with his long sharp nose he immediately turned over upon its back—taking care all the while to avoid coming in contact with the bill-like snout of the turtle. The latter was now at the mercy of the ’coon, who was proceeding to demolish him in his usual fashion; but Cudjo could stand it no longer, and away went he and the dogs, with loud shouts, across the creek.
“The chase was not a long one, for in a few seconds the steady barking of the dogs told us that poor ‘coony’ was ‘treed.’ Unfortunately, for himself, he had run up a very low tree, where Cudjo was able to reach him with his long spear; and when the rest of us got forward to the spot, we found that Cudjo had finished him, and was holding him up by the tail, quite dead.
“We now went back to our fishing; and although we caught no more of the turtles, we succeeded in taking as many fish as we wanted; and returning to the house, Mary cooked for us a most excellent fish dinner, which we all ate with a keen appetite.”
Chapter Thirty Three.Little Mary and the Bee.“During the winter we saw very little of our beavers. Through the cold season they lay snug in their houses—although not in a state of torpidity, as the beaver does not become torpid in winter. He only keeps within doors, and spends most of his time in eating and sleeping; but he goes out of his house at intervals to wash and clean himself, for the beaver is an animal of very precise habits. He is not compelled, however, to go abroad in search of food. As we have seen, he lays up a stock which serves him throughout the cold season.“For several weeks in mid-winter, the dam was frozen over with ice strong enough to bear our weight; and we visited the houses of the beavers that stood up like so many hay-stacks. We found them so hard and firm, that we could climb upon them, and pounce down upon their tops, without the least danger of breaking them in. In fact, it would have been anything but an easy task to have opened one of them from above; and no animal—not even the wolverene with his crooked claws,—could have done it. We observed that in every case the doors were far below the ice, so that the entrance still remained open to the animals within; and, moreover, when any one stamped heavily upon the roof, through the clear ice we could see the frightened creatures making their escape by darting off into the water. Sometimes we remained to see if they would return, but in no instance did they come back. At the time we wondered at this—as we knew they could not possibly live under the ice, where there was no air. We soon found, however, that these cunning creatures knew what they were about; and that they had already provided means to escape from the danger of being drowned.“Along one side of the dam there was a bank, that rose considerably above the water; and into this bank they had made large holes, or as they are termed ‘washes.’ These were so constructed that the entrances to them could not be frozen up; and we found that whenever the beavers were disturbed or frightened from their houses, they invariably betook themselves to these washes, where they could crawl quietly up above the surface of the water, and breathe in safety!“This was the proper season to trap the beaver, as their fur is more valuable in winter than at any other time; but, as I have already said, it was not our intention to disturb them, until they should become very numerous.“The ice upon the dam was exceedingly smooth, and of course suggested the idea of skates. Both Frank and Harry were very fond of this amusement, and, indeed, I was rather partial to it myself.“Skates then must be had, at all cost, and again we had recourse to thebois d’arc, the wood of which was sufficiently light and compact for our purpose Cudjo, with his hammer and a good hickory-fire, soon drew out the shoeing for them, making it very thin—as our stock of iron consisted in what we had taken from the body of the wagon, and was of course very precious, and not to be wasted upon articles designed merely for amusement. However, we knew it would not be lost upon the skates; as we could take it from them, whenever we should want to apply it to a more useful purpose. In a short time, we had three pairs; and, strapping them firmly to our feet with strips of deerskin, were soon gliding over the dam, and spinning around the beaver-houses—no doubt to the great wonderment of such of the animals as came out under the ice to look at us. Mary, with Cudjo and the children, stood watching us from the shore, and clapping their hands with delight.“With these and such-like innocent recreations, we passed the winter very agreeably. It was but a very short winter; and as soon as the spring returned, Cudjo, with his wooden plough, turned up our little field, and we planted our corn. It occupied nearly an acre of ground; and we had now the pleasant prospect that, in six weeks’ time, we should gather about fifty bushels. We did not neglect our hundred grains of wheat, but sowed that carefully in a corner by itself. You may fancy that it did not take up much ground. Mary had also her garden, with beds of wild potatoes, and other roots, which she had discovered in the valley. One of these was the species of turnip already mentioned as thepomme-blanche, or Indian turnip. She had found wild onions too, which proved of great service in soup-making. In her garden were many others of which I only know the names; but three of them, the ‘kamas,’ the ‘kooyah,’ and ‘yampah’ roots are worth mentioning, as thousands of the miserable Indians who inhabit the American Desert subsist chiefly on them. The widely scattered tribes known as the ‘Diggers,’ take their name from the fact of their digging for, and living upon, these roots.“The flowers now came out in full bloom; and some of the openings near the upper end of the valley were a sight to behold. They were literally covered with beautiful blossoms—malvas, cleomes, asclepiae, andhelianthi. We frequently visited this part, making pic-nic excursions to all the places of note in our little dominion. The cataract where the stream dashed over the cliff, the salt spring, and such-like places, formed points of interest; and we rarely failed in any of these excursions to draw some useful lesson from the school of Nature. Indeed, Mary and I frequently designed them, for the purpose of instructing our children in such of the natural sciences as we ourselves knew. We had no books, and we illustrated our teachings by the objects around us.“One day we had strayed up as usual among the openings. It was very early in the spring, just as the flowers were beginning to appear. We had sat down to rest ourselves in the middle of a glade, surrounded by beautiful magnolias. There was a bed of large blue flowers close by; and Frank, taking little Mary by the hand, had gone in among them to gather a bouquet for his mother. All at once the child uttered a scream, and then continued to cry loudly! Had she been bitten by a snake? Alarmed at the thought, we all started to our feet, and ran for the spot. The little creature still cried—holding out her hand, which we at once perceived was the seat of the pain. The cause of it was evident—she had been stung by a bee. No doubt she had clasped a flower, upon which some bee had been making his honey, and the angry insect had punished such a rude interference with his pleasures.“As soon as the child had been pacified by a soothing application to the wound, a train of reflection occurred to the minds of all of us. ‘There are bees, then, in the place,’ said we. We had not known this fact before. In the autumn previous we had been too busy with other things to notice them; and of course during the winter season they were not to be seen. They were just now coming out for the early spring flowers.“It was natural to infer, that where there were bees there should also be honey; and the word ‘honey’ had a magic sound in the ears of our little community. Bees and honey now became the topic of conversation; and not a sentence was uttered for some minutes that did not contain an allusion to bees or bees’ nests, or bee-trees, or bee-hunters, or honey.“We all scattered among the flowers to assure ourselves that it really was a bee, and not some rascally wasp that had wounded our little Mary. If it was a bee, we should find some of his companions roaming about among the blossoms of the helianthus.“In a short time Harry was heard crying out, ‘A bee!—a bee!’ and almost at the same instant Frank shouted, ‘Another!’ ‘Hya—hya!’ cried Cudjo, ‘yar’s de oder one—see ’im!—biz-z-z. Gollies! how he am loaded with de wax!’“Two or three others were now discovered, all busily plying their industrious calling; and proving that there was one hive, at least, in some part of the valley.“The question now arose, how this hive was to be found? No doubt it was in some hollow tree—but how were we to find this tree, standing as it likely did among hundreds of others, and not differing from the rest in appearance? This was the question that puzzled us.“It did not puzzle all of us though. Fortunately there chanced to be a bee-hunter among us—a real old bee-hunter, and that individual was our famous Cudjo. Cudjo had ‘treed’ bees many’s the time in the woods of ‘Ole Vaginny,’ and cut down the trees too, and licked the honey—for Cudjo was as sweet upon honey as a bear. Yes, Cudjo had ‘treed’ bees many’s the time, and knew how—that did Cudjo.“We should have to return to the house, however, to enable him to make ready his implements; and as the day was now pretty far advanced, we determined to leave our bee-hunting for the morrow.”
“During the winter we saw very little of our beavers. Through the cold season they lay snug in their houses—although not in a state of torpidity, as the beaver does not become torpid in winter. He only keeps within doors, and spends most of his time in eating and sleeping; but he goes out of his house at intervals to wash and clean himself, for the beaver is an animal of very precise habits. He is not compelled, however, to go abroad in search of food. As we have seen, he lays up a stock which serves him throughout the cold season.
“For several weeks in mid-winter, the dam was frozen over with ice strong enough to bear our weight; and we visited the houses of the beavers that stood up like so many hay-stacks. We found them so hard and firm, that we could climb upon them, and pounce down upon their tops, without the least danger of breaking them in. In fact, it would have been anything but an easy task to have opened one of them from above; and no animal—not even the wolverene with his crooked claws,—could have done it. We observed that in every case the doors were far below the ice, so that the entrance still remained open to the animals within; and, moreover, when any one stamped heavily upon the roof, through the clear ice we could see the frightened creatures making their escape by darting off into the water. Sometimes we remained to see if they would return, but in no instance did they come back. At the time we wondered at this—as we knew they could not possibly live under the ice, where there was no air. We soon found, however, that these cunning creatures knew what they were about; and that they had already provided means to escape from the danger of being drowned.
“Along one side of the dam there was a bank, that rose considerably above the water; and into this bank they had made large holes, or as they are termed ‘washes.’ These were so constructed that the entrances to them could not be frozen up; and we found that whenever the beavers were disturbed or frightened from their houses, they invariably betook themselves to these washes, where they could crawl quietly up above the surface of the water, and breathe in safety!
“This was the proper season to trap the beaver, as their fur is more valuable in winter than at any other time; but, as I have already said, it was not our intention to disturb them, until they should become very numerous.
“The ice upon the dam was exceedingly smooth, and of course suggested the idea of skates. Both Frank and Harry were very fond of this amusement, and, indeed, I was rather partial to it myself.
“Skates then must be had, at all cost, and again we had recourse to thebois d’arc, the wood of which was sufficiently light and compact for our purpose Cudjo, with his hammer and a good hickory-fire, soon drew out the shoeing for them, making it very thin—as our stock of iron consisted in what we had taken from the body of the wagon, and was of course very precious, and not to be wasted upon articles designed merely for amusement. However, we knew it would not be lost upon the skates; as we could take it from them, whenever we should want to apply it to a more useful purpose. In a short time, we had three pairs; and, strapping them firmly to our feet with strips of deerskin, were soon gliding over the dam, and spinning around the beaver-houses—no doubt to the great wonderment of such of the animals as came out under the ice to look at us. Mary, with Cudjo and the children, stood watching us from the shore, and clapping their hands with delight.
“With these and such-like innocent recreations, we passed the winter very agreeably. It was but a very short winter; and as soon as the spring returned, Cudjo, with his wooden plough, turned up our little field, and we planted our corn. It occupied nearly an acre of ground; and we had now the pleasant prospect that, in six weeks’ time, we should gather about fifty bushels. We did not neglect our hundred grains of wheat, but sowed that carefully in a corner by itself. You may fancy that it did not take up much ground. Mary had also her garden, with beds of wild potatoes, and other roots, which she had discovered in the valley. One of these was the species of turnip already mentioned as thepomme-blanche, or Indian turnip. She had found wild onions too, which proved of great service in soup-making. In her garden were many others of which I only know the names; but three of them, the ‘kamas,’ the ‘kooyah,’ and ‘yampah’ roots are worth mentioning, as thousands of the miserable Indians who inhabit the American Desert subsist chiefly on them. The widely scattered tribes known as the ‘Diggers,’ take their name from the fact of their digging for, and living upon, these roots.
“The flowers now came out in full bloom; and some of the openings near the upper end of the valley were a sight to behold. They were literally covered with beautiful blossoms—malvas, cleomes, asclepiae, andhelianthi. We frequently visited this part, making pic-nic excursions to all the places of note in our little dominion. The cataract where the stream dashed over the cliff, the salt spring, and such-like places, formed points of interest; and we rarely failed in any of these excursions to draw some useful lesson from the school of Nature. Indeed, Mary and I frequently designed them, for the purpose of instructing our children in such of the natural sciences as we ourselves knew. We had no books, and we illustrated our teachings by the objects around us.
“One day we had strayed up as usual among the openings. It was very early in the spring, just as the flowers were beginning to appear. We had sat down to rest ourselves in the middle of a glade, surrounded by beautiful magnolias. There was a bed of large blue flowers close by; and Frank, taking little Mary by the hand, had gone in among them to gather a bouquet for his mother. All at once the child uttered a scream, and then continued to cry loudly! Had she been bitten by a snake? Alarmed at the thought, we all started to our feet, and ran for the spot. The little creature still cried—holding out her hand, which we at once perceived was the seat of the pain. The cause of it was evident—she had been stung by a bee. No doubt she had clasped a flower, upon which some bee had been making his honey, and the angry insect had punished such a rude interference with his pleasures.
“As soon as the child had been pacified by a soothing application to the wound, a train of reflection occurred to the minds of all of us. ‘There are bees, then, in the place,’ said we. We had not known this fact before. In the autumn previous we had been too busy with other things to notice them; and of course during the winter season they were not to be seen. They were just now coming out for the early spring flowers.
“It was natural to infer, that where there were bees there should also be honey; and the word ‘honey’ had a magic sound in the ears of our little community. Bees and honey now became the topic of conversation; and not a sentence was uttered for some minutes that did not contain an allusion to bees or bees’ nests, or bee-trees, or bee-hunters, or honey.
“We all scattered among the flowers to assure ourselves that it really was a bee, and not some rascally wasp that had wounded our little Mary. If it was a bee, we should find some of his companions roaming about among the blossoms of the helianthus.
“In a short time Harry was heard crying out, ‘A bee!—a bee!’ and almost at the same instant Frank shouted, ‘Another!’ ‘Hya—hya!’ cried Cudjo, ‘yar’s de oder one—see ’im!—biz-z-z. Gollies! how he am loaded with de wax!’
“Two or three others were now discovered, all busily plying their industrious calling; and proving that there was one hive, at least, in some part of the valley.
“The question now arose, how this hive was to be found? No doubt it was in some hollow tree—but how were we to find this tree, standing as it likely did among hundreds of others, and not differing from the rest in appearance? This was the question that puzzled us.
“It did not puzzle all of us though. Fortunately there chanced to be a bee-hunter among us—a real old bee-hunter, and that individual was our famous Cudjo. Cudjo had ‘treed’ bees many’s the time in the woods of ‘Ole Vaginny,’ and cut down the trees too, and licked the honey—for Cudjo was as sweet upon honey as a bear. Yes, Cudjo had ‘treed’ bees many’s the time, and knew how—that did Cudjo.
“We should have to return to the house, however, to enable him to make ready his implements; and as the day was now pretty far advanced, we determined to leave our bee-hunting for the morrow.”