Attack on Boonesborough.
Attack on Boonesborough.
On the tenth of March, 1778, Daniel Boone, having been taken prisoner by the Indians, was conducted to Detroit, when Governor Hamilton himself offered one hundred pounds sterling, for his ransom; but so great was the affection of the Indians for their prisoner, that it was positively refused. Boone's anxiety on account of his wife and children was incessant, and the more intolerable as he dared not excite the suspicions of his captors by any indication of a wish to return home.
The Indians were now preparing for a violent attack upon the settlements in Kentucky. Early in June, four hundred and fifty of the choicest warriors were ready to march against Boonesborough, painted and armed in a fearful manner. Alarmed at these preparations, he determined to make his escape. He hunted and shot with the Indians as usual, until the morning of the sixteenth of June, when, taking an early start, he left Chillicothe and directed his steps to Boonesborough. The distance exceeded one hundred and sixty miles, but he performed it in four days, during which he eat only one meal. He appeared before the garrison like one risen from the dead. He found the fortress in a bad state, and lost no time in rendering it more capable of defence. He repaired the flanks, gates, and posterns, formed double bastions, and completed the whole in ten days.
On the eighth of August, the enemy appeared. The attack upon the fort was instantly commenced; and the siege lasted nine days, during which, an almost incessant firing was kept up. On the twentieth of August, the enemy retired with a loss of thirty-seven killed and a great many wounded. This affair was highly creditable to the spirit and skill of the pioneers.
There is a man now living in East Dixfield, Oxford county, me, who actually caught in his mouth a ball discharged from a musket. He was at the battle of Bridgewater, in the war of 1812, and, while biting off the end of a cartridge, for the purpose of loading his gun, was struck by a ball, which entered on the left side of his face, knocking out eight of his teeth, cut off the end of his tongue, and passed into his throat. He raised it, went to the hospital, staid out the remainder of his enlistment, and returned home with the bullet in his pocket.
The New Orleans Picayune, one of whose editors was an eye-witness of the most of the leading battles in Mexico, copies the foregoing paragraph, and appends to it the following relation:
We can relate an incident even more strange than this. At the siege of Monterey, in 1846, and, while General Worth's troops were advancing to storm the small fort, known as La Soldada, a man, named Waters, an excellent soldier, belonging to Ben McCulloch's Rangers, caught a large grape-shot directly in his mouth. It was fully the size of a hen's egg, was rough, uneven in shape, and, in its course, completely carried out the four upper teeth of the ranger, and part of the jaw, cut off the four lower teeth, as with a chisel, split his tongue in twain, carried away his palate, went through the back of his head, and, striking a tendon, glanced down, and lodged under the skin on the shoulder-blade, where it was extracted by a surgeon, and safely placed in the pocket of Waters for future reference.
No man thought the wounded ranger could live, he could swallow neither food nor water. We saw him two nights afterward, in a room in the Bishop's Palace, which had been converted into a hospital, sitting bolt upright among the wounded and the dying--for the nature of his terrible hurt was such that he could not lie down without suffocating. His face was swollen to more than twice its ordinary size--he was speechless of course--his wants were only made known by means of a broken slate and pencil, and he was slowly applying a wet sponge to his mouth, endeavoring to extract moisture, which might quench the fever and intolerable thirst under which he was suffering. By his side lay young Thomas, of Maryland, a member of the same company, who was mortally wounded the morning after, and who was now dying. Wounded men, struck that afternoon in Worth's advance upon the Grand Plaza, were constantly being brought in, the surgeons were amputating and dressing the hurts of the crippled soldiers by a pale and sickly candle-light, and the groans of those in grievous pain added a new horror to the scene, which was at best frightful. We recollect, perfectly well, a poor fellow struck in both legs by a grape-shot, while advancing up one of the streets. He was begging lustily, after one of his limbs had been amputated, that the other might be spared him, on which to hobble through the world. Poor Thomas, as gallant a spirit as ever lived, finally breathed his last; we brought Waters a fresh cup of water with which to moisten his wounds, and then left the room to catch an hour's sleep; but the recollections of that terrible night will not soon be effaced from my memory.
The above incident occurred on the night of the 23d and morning of the 24th of September, 1846. During the early part of the month of February following, while passing into the old St. Charles, in this city, we were accosted with a strange voice by a fine-looking man, who seemed extremely glad to see us, although he had a most singular and unaccountable mode of expressing himself. We recollected the eye as one we had been familiar with, but the lower features of the face, although in no way disfigured, for the life of us, we could not make out.
"Why, don't you know me?" in a mumbling, half-indistinct, and forced manner, said the man, still shaking our hand vigorously. "I'm Waters."
And Waters it was, in reality, looking as well and as healthy as ever, without showing the least outward sign that he had ever caught a grape-shot in his mouth. A luxuriant growth of mustaches completely covered his upper lip, and concealed any scar the iron missile might have made; an imperial on his under lip hid any appearance of a wound at that point; and, with the exception of his speech, there was nothing to show that he had ever received the slightest injury about the face. His tongue, which was terribly shattered, was still partially benumbed, rendering articulation both difficult and tiresome; but he assured us he was every day gaining more and more the use of it, and, in his own words, he was soon to be "just as good as new"
It is needless to say that we were glad to see him--to meet one we had never expected to encounter again in such excellent plight. Any one who could have seen him sitting in that apartment of the Bishop's Palace, his face swollen, and, with a gravity of countenance, which would have been ludicrous, even to the causing of laughter, had it not been for his own precarious situation, and the heart-rending scenes around, would have been equally as much astonished and rejoiced, as we were, on again so unexpectedly beholding him.
A correspondent of the "Inquirer" has sent us the following, which is quite as remarkable as either of the foregoing:
Very extraordinary incidents have been published lately, of shot having been caught in the mouths of soldiers, in the course of battle, in the war of 1812, and in the Mexican war; but an incident, perhaps more remarkable, for the coolness of the individual on the occasion, occurred at the battle of Fort Drane, fought, in August, 1837, under the command of the late Col. B.K. Pierce. This was one of the most signal and desperate engagements of that bloody war. The Seminoles, under their renowned chief, Osceola, had taken a very commanding position in an extensive sugar field, near the stockade, strengthened on the east side by a dense hammock. Three desperate onsets were made during the battle, and the enemy were finally driven from the field to the protection of the hammock. During the hottest of the battle, a soldier belonging to the detachment under the command of Lieut. Pickell, whose position was a little in advance of the two wings, of the name of Jackson, having just fired, received a shot from a tall Indian, not twenty yards distant, which broke through the outer parts of his pantaloons, and lodged in his right-hand pocket. Feeling the slight sting of the half-spent ball, he thrust his hand in his pocket, drew out the bullet, and dropped it into the barrel of his musket, upon the charge of powder he had just before put in; then, with the unerring aim of a true marksman, leveled his piece, and, as quick as lightning, his adversary was measured upon the ground. The wound was fatal--the warrior survived the shot but a few minutes.
The above is one of the many incidents that occurred in the recent war with the Florida Indians which, for peril and brave feats, on the part of the American soldiers and officers, has scarcely ever been equaled. The above incident is stated as it actually occurred.
On the night of the eleventh of April, 1787, the house of a widow in Bourbon county, Kentucky, became the scene of a deplorable adventure. She occupied what was called a double cabin, in a lonely part of the county. One room was tenanted by the old lady herself, together with two grown sons, and a widowed daughter with an infant. The other room was occupied by two unmarried daughters from sixteen to twenty years of age, together with a little girl.
The hour was eleven o'clock at night, and the family had retired to rest. Some symptoms of an alarming nature had engaged the attention of the young man for an hour, before anything of a decided character took place. At length hasty steps were heard in the yard, and quickly afterward several loud knocks at the door, accompanied by the usual exclamation, "Who keeps house?" in very good English.
The young man, supposing from the language that some benighted travelers were at the door, hastily arose, and was advancing to withdraw the bar that secured it, when his mother, who had long lived upon the frontier, and had probably detected the Indian tone in the demand for admission, instantly sprang out of bed, and ordered her son not to admit them, declaring that they were Indians.
She instantly awakened her other son, and the young men seizing their guns, which were always charged, prepared to repel the enemy. The Indians finding it impossible to enter under their assumed characters, began to thunder at the door with great violence, but a single shot from a loop-hole obliged them to shift the attack to some less exposed point, and, unfortunately, they discovered the door of the other cabin, which contained the three daughters. The rifles of the brothers could not be brought to bear on this point; and, by means of several rails taken from the yard fence, the door was forced from its hinges, and the girls were at the mercy of the savages. One was instantly secured, but the eldest defended herself desperately with a knife she had been using at the loom, and stabbed one of the Indians to the heart, before she was tomahawked.
In the meantime, the little girl, who had been overlooked by the enemy in their eagerness to secure the others, ran out into the yard, and might have effected her escape, had she taken advantage of the darkness, and fled; but instead of looking to her own safety, the terrified little creature ran round the house, wringing her hands, and crying that her sisters were killed.
The Indians Killing the Widow's Daughter.
The Indians Killing the Widow's Daughter.
Just then the child uttered a loud scream, followed by a few faint moans, and all was silent. Presently the crackling of flames was heard, accompanied by a triumphant yell from the Indians, announcing that they had set fire to that division of the house, which had been occupied by the daughters, and of which they held undisputed possession.
The fire was quickly communicated to the rest of the building, and it became necessary to abandon it or perish in the flames. The door was thrown open, and the old lady, supported by her eldest son, attempted to cross the fence at one point, while her daughter carrying her child in her arms, and attended by the younger of the brothers, ran in a different direction. The blazing roof shed a light over the yard but little inferior to that of day, and the savages were distinctly seen awaiting the approach of their victims. The old lady was permitted to reach the stile unmolested, but in the act of crossing, received several balls in her breast, and fell dead. Her son, providentially, remained unhurt, and, by extraordinary agility, effected his escape.
The other party succeeded in reaching the fence unhurt, but in the act of crossing were vigorously assailed by several Indians, who, throwing down their guns, rushed upon them with their tomahawks. The young man defended his sister gallantly, firing upon the enemy as they approached, and then wielding the butt of his rifle with a fury that drew their whole attention upon himself, and gave his sister an opportunity of effecting her escape. He quickly fell however under the tomahawks of his enemies, and was found at daylight, scalped and mangled in a shocking manner. Of the whole family, consisting of eight persons, only three escaped. Four were killed upon the spot, and one, the second daughter, carried off as a prisoner.
The neighborhood was quickly alarmed, and, by daylight, about thirty men were assembled, under the command of Colonel Edwards. A light snow had fallen during the latter part of the night, and the Indian trail could be followed at a gallop. It led directly into the mountainous country bordering on the Licking, and afforded evidences of great hurry and precipitation on the part of the fugitives. Unfortunately, a hound had been permitted to follow the whites, and as the trail became fresh, and the scent warm, she followed it with eagerness, baying loudly and giving the alarm to the Indians. The consequences of this imprudence were soon manifest. The enemy finding the pursuit keen, and perceiving the strength of their prisoner began to fail, instantly sunk their tomahawks in her head, and left her still warm and bleeding upon the snow.
As the whites came up, she regained strength enough to wave her hand in token of recognition, and appeared desirous of giving them some information, with regard to the enemy, but her strength was too far gone. Her brother sprang from his horse and endeavored to stop the effusion of blood, but in vain. She gave him her hand, muttered some inarticulate words, and expired.
In mid-winter about four years since, says Miss Martineau, in her Norway and the Norwegians, a young man named Hund, was sent by his master on an errand about twenty miles, to carry provisions to a village in the upper country. The village people asked him for charity, to carry three orphan children on his sledge a few miles on his way to Bergen, and to leave them at a house on the road, when they would be taken care of until they could be brought from Bergen. He took the little things, and saw that the two elder were well wrapped up from the cold. The third he took within his arms and on his knee, as he drove, clasping it warm against his breast--so those say who saw them set off, and it is confirmed by one who met the sledge on the road, and heard the children prattling to Hund, and Hund laughing merrily at their little talk. Before they got half way, however, a pack of hungry wolves, burst out upon them from a hollow in the thicket to the right of the wood. The beasts followed close to the back of the sledge. Closer and closer the wolves pressed. Hund saw one about to spring at his throat. It was impossible for the horse to go faster than he did, for he went like the wind--so did the wolves. Hund in desperation, snatched up one of the children behind him, and threw it over the back of the sledge. This stopped the pack a little. On galloped the horse. But the wolves were soon crowded around again, with the blood freezing to their muzzles. It was easier to throw over the second child than the first--and Hund did it. But on came again the infuriated beasts--gaunt with hunger, and raging like fiends for the prey. It was harder to give up the third--the dumb infant that nestled in his breast, but Hund was in mortal terror. Again the hot breath of the wolves was upon him. He threw a way the infant and saved himself. Away over the snow flew the sledge, the village was reached, and Hund just escaped after all the sacrifice he had made. But he was unsettled and wild, and his talk, for some time whenever he did speak, night or day, was of wolves--so fearful had been the effect upon his imagination.
Attacked by Wolves.
Attacked by Wolves.
Dr. Bacon and Rev. Mr. Marsh, attempted to cross from the city of Mosul, on the Tigris, to Oroomiah, the residence of the Nestorian Christians. On their passage through the Kurdish mountains, they were robbed, and narrowly escaped being murdered, and were finally forced to return to Mosul.
Dr. Bacon, after describing their departure from Diarbekr, says:
"I defer to another time the description of our romantic and picturesque passage down the Tigris. By the care of Providence, our whole party completed this stage, as they had completed the previous and more fatiguing ones, in safety and comfortable health. We arrived in Mosul on the 16th of May, in seven days from Diarbekr, and immediately set about making preparations for continuing our journey into the mountains.
"The engaging of mules, the hiring of servants, and the preparation of provisions, detained us in Mosul until Wednesday, the 21st of May. The meantime was spent by us in visiting the excavations on the opposite side of the river. In the mound of Koyunjik, we followed our guide through a labyrinth of narrow corridors, lighted dimly by occasional openings in the firm clay overhead. Some of the sculptures were described in Mr. Leyard's volumes; others have been since unearthed, and some most interesting galleries had just been left by the picks of the workmen. Time, at present, does not permit me to describe them; but I may mention as among the most interesting of the recent discoveries, a succession of slabs carved with a representation of the original transportation of the great winged bulls which adorned the stately entrances of the palaces of Ninus and Sardanapalus. A collection of small, inscribed stones, has also been found, supposed to contain public records; and, but a day or two ago, the workmen brought in the report of new and still grander sculptures just discovered.
"We had expected to start on Wednesday at sunrise; but various petty hindrances detained us until late in the afternoon. We then united in prayer with the family in whose cares, anxieties, and dangers we had shared through so many weary weeks, and hastened to our saddles. Passing the Tigris by a rude ferry, we rode in the setting sunlight by the once mysterious mounds of Koyunjik. The reapers who were still busy within the grassy walls of fallen Ninevah, came up to us as we passed, with their sickles on their heads, to present the offering of the first fruits of harvest. We hurried on, however, and stopped for the night at a small village little more than an hour from the gate of Mosul."
On the third day they reached the town of Akkre, among the mountains, where they were obliged to stay three days, waiting for the Kurdish muleteers. They performed the Sabbath service in a cavern of the mountain which the native christians had fitted up as a secret chapel. Leaving Akkre on Monday morning, the 26th of May, they entered the most dangerous part of the mountains. Mr. B. says:
"We spent this day's nooning by a spring that bursts out near the top of a steep mountain, and ate our dinner under a tree that distilled upon the rocks a fragrant gum. Mounting again at two o'clock, in half an hour we reached the summit, whence we looked down a giddy descent upon the swift but winding Zab. Here it became necessary to leave our animals, and work our way down the almost precipitous road, while the mules slid, scrambled, and tumbled after us as best they might. As I was pushing on a little in advance of the party, I was met, in a narrow turn of the path, by an old bearded man, with a dagger in his girdle, who reached out his hand toward me. I was uncertain at first how to understand it; but his only object was to press my hand to his lips with a fervent 'salam aleikum' (Peace be with you,) to which I responded, according to usual form, 'aleikum salam,' (with you be peace.) Meeting with others of his party, they asked us if we were Nesrani, (Nazarenes--Christians,) and saluted us with the same respect, going some distance back on their path with us to show us a cool water spring. 'They then went their ways, and we saw them no more;' but I shall not easily forget the satisfaction which they showed in recognizing us as fellow believers here in the land of the infidel, and the kindness with which they went out of their way to offer us a 'cup of cold water in the name of a disciple.'"
That night they spent on the banks of the river Zab. The next day, after traversing a wild pass, hemmed in by perpendicular rocks, more than a thousand feet in hight, they reached the village of Bizeh, in a valley of the mountains, and secured a house-top for the night:
"About the middle of the night, Mr. Marsh was waked by a slight noise, and, lifting his head, saw a party of five or six armed men creeping stealthily toward our roof, which, on the side toward the hill on which they were, was only four or five feet from the ground. The foremost man stopped short for a moment at Mr. Marsh's movement, and turning to his followers, called out 'Khawaja!' (the gentlemen!) Then seeing that our old guard was asleep at the stepping stone, he climbed upon the roof at another corner, and stood for a moment with his long gun at his side. Mr. Marsh raised himself upon his arm, and demanded in Arabic, 'What do you want?' The man probably did not understand the language: at any rate, he made no answer, but turned to the old man, and conversed earnestly with him in a low tone. The other men gathered near them, as if to listen and take part. But they all finally went away without doing any mischief."
The next morning the sentinel who had kept watch over their baggage attempted to dissuade them from going the direct road, as the people of the next village had heard of their coming, and were determined to kill them. However, they kept on; and, in the course of two or three hours, their guide was stopped by a company of six armed men:
"The place was admirably chosen for the purpose. The narrow path along the cliff by which we had come, here widened into a little platform large enough for our mules to stand upon together. In front of us, a ledge of broken rocks jutted from the mountain and ran down, crossing our path, and leaving only a very small passage. In front of this path stood our challengers. Six worse-looking men, whether in form, dress, or feature, it would be difficult to imagine. Each man wore around his high, conical felt hat, a turban of handkerchiefs of every hue and texture; in his hand a long gun with short and narrow breech; and in his belt the universal Kurdish curved and two-edged dagger. The leader of the gang was a man of middle age, with black eyes and a grisly, untrimmed beard, and with half his front teeth knocked out."
After some discussion, the robbers consented to allow them to pass, on the payment of fifty piastres, (two dollars and a half,) which they agreed to do, provided they were conducted to the house of the Agha. The robbers objected to this, and, provoked by the delay, leveled their guns at the party. At this juncture, the chief muleteer advanced the necessary money, and they were spared.
"These transactions, from the time we were stopped, occupied about an hour. We now passed with our ragged regiment straggling around us, now with their long guns under our ears, and now cutting off the long bends of our crooked and little used path. In about ten minutes from the pass, we were hailed by another party, posted upon a hillside, and a discussion of many minutes ensued between them and our escort, in which our Kurdish muleteers took an active part. The result was, that we moved on with an addition of two men to our guard. We soon began to perceive that we were going toward the Agha rather as prisoners than as guests. The castle, (if it may be dignified by the name,) which was now in sight, was of no promising appearance. It was a rude, rectangular building, with a small white tower at one corner, on which the workmen were still engaged. It was situated on the side of a hill which formed the head of a valley opening into the ravine we had just left. The small windows and the roof were crowded with men, women, and children, gazing at our singular cavalcade. As we drew near, some women who were bathing in a brook, rose, and gazed at us with irrepressible curiosity. We stopped at the door of the castle.
"Here the assault began. The men of our guard flew like savage dogs at our servants: Khudhr and Ablahad seized the arms which were girded about them, slashing furiously with their daggers, to cut the straps of their guns and pistols. The turbans were torn from their heads, and appropriated among the rabble. Similar violence was about to be shown us, when these operations were suddenly interrupted by the appearance, from the castle, of Melul Agha.
"He was a man taller by several inches than any of his tribe, and with an expression of face which was that of one accustomed to be obeyed, He was dressed in a more elegant style than could have been expected in these mountains; wearing upon his head a turban of gray silk, and a long rifle slung from his shoulders. With a melo-dramatic wave of his hand, which was at once obeyed, he motioned his noisy tribe to desist, and, approaching us, pointed out a tree, a few hundred feet up the hill, to which we might retire. As we moved alone toward this spot, a grim suspicion of his intentions crossed our minds. Might it not be for convenience in dispatching us, that we had been removed? We seated ourselves quietly in the shade, and watched the proceedings. The property of the muleteers and donkey-drivers had been unloaded and placed by itself. One of our loads had been thrown from the mule, and the other was now brought near us, taken from the animal, and laid under a neighboring tree. Mr. Marsh now went down toward the castle to assist Khudhr in bringing the rest of our property toward the tree. This done, Khudhr returned to the crowd to learn what he could of their intentions. He soon came back to us in evident terror, and said, with a significant motion of his hand, that they were intending to kill us."
After sending the servant a second time, he came back with the announcement that the Agha would examine their baggage, take what he pleased, and send them on to another Agha; but would not allow them to return to Mosul.
This examination was soon made, and the party was plundered of one thousand piasters, (forty-four dollars,) besides razors, knives, and a quantity of clothing.
The whole affair was conducted with a politeness of manner which was highly creditable to the Agha, and calculated to put us very much at our ease. He showed himself, in every thing,
----"As mild a mannered manAs ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat"
----"As mild a mannered manAs ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat"
For instance, in searching our trunk, his eye was caught by a small, sealed parcel, which I supposed to contain jewelry; I immediately told him, through a servant, that it was not mine, but had been given to me, in America, to be delivered in Europe. He immediately put it down, and proceeded with the search.
"During these operations, several women, some from curiosity, others from pity, had gathered around us. Among the latter class, was one, who, from her dress, beauty, and demeanor, could be no other than the wife of the Agha. She was dressed in a faded, but once magnificent robe, and trowsers of silk, and wore upon her head a massive and elaborately-carved ornament of silver. She moved among the fierce and blood-thirsty savages, with an air of mingled scorn and anxiety, reproaching them with the shame of the transaction, and pleading earnestly that our lives and property be spared. She warned them, also, that our injuries would inevitably be visited upon their heads.
"Having finished his search, the Agha, with the old men of the tribe, gathered on a ledge of rocks, just behind us, and consulted long and earnestly. We sat down and dined with what appetite we could muster."
After the robbers had come to their decision, a second search of the baggage took place, which Mr. Bacon thus describes:
"The pressure of greater and more important dangers had made me quite resigned to such petty losses as these, and I watched, with much amusement, the appropriation of unusual articles. A black silk cravat which had seen much service in New Haven drawing-rooms, was twisted about the suspicious-looking head of an uncommonly dirty boy. A pair of heavy riding-boots were transferred to the shoulders of a youth who bore the 'gallows mark' upon his features with unmistakable distinctness. A satin vest of Mr. Marsh's was circulating through the crowd, on the person of a dirty child, who boasted no other wealth but a ragged shirt and a green pomegranate. I looked at the youngster with a smile of congratulation; but he turned upon his heel and strutted gravely away, his new garment trailing on the ground at every step.
"Having lightened our baggage considerably at this haul, they proceeded to search our persons. It had been our first movement, on being placed by ourselves, to transfer our watches, together with a locket,--all priceless memorials of distant or departed friends--from the waistcoat to the pantaloons fob; a pocket compass attached to my watchguard, was cared for; likewise, the little note-book in which I was accustomed to place the map of each day's journey. We knew not how soon we might be wandering in the mountains on foot, and without a guide. Dr. Bacon had with him two English sovereigns, and we were uncertain what to do with them. If we should openly give them to the robbers, we dreaded the effect of theauri sacra fames. If discovered in a secret place, we might be stripped in the search for more. The attempt to conceal them in the earth might be perilous. They were finally placed in the waistcoat fob, from which the watch had been taken, with the hope that the clumsy Kurds might overlook it.
"They began with me. The Agha, with an irresistible smile and bow of apology, passed his hand about my waist, feeling for a money belt, then over my dress; finding that one of my breeches' pockets was full, he motioned me to empty it, and seemed satisfied when I drew out a handkerchief and a pair of gloves. Dr. Bacon was then searched, even more superficially; but as the hand passed over the waistcoat pocket, something jingled. I held my breath as Dr. B. put in his hand and drew out a seal, which he had bought at Mosul as an antique Upon Mr. Marsh, the Agha found a gold pencil case, which pleased him wonderfully. On being told of its use, he scrawled with the pencil on the beyur-haldeh, an autograph, for which I have a peculiar value. The mystery of this was, that he restored the pencil, with a grin of self-righteousness, to Mr. Marsh."
After waiting some time in suspense, the travelers were suffered to leave, in charge of a Kurdish guard:
"It soon became evident that we were not on the road to Oroomiah. Whither we were going, was a matter of painful mystery. At the distance of more than a mile, as we passed a village, a single Christian, a man of Akkre, came out in a crowd of curious villagers, to offer his sympathy. As each of us passed him, he bowed, with his head to the ground, and with the strongest expression of regard, urged us to remain with him there, as he would guarantee our safety. It was not for us, however, to say, and we pressed forward; but Khudhr soon brought us the intelligence, which he had obtained here, that we were being led to the village of a Mullah, a very holy man, under whose protection we might feel entirely secure. He added, that toward Oroomiah it would be quite impossible to go; our only escape was toward Mosul."
The Mullah received them kindly, entertained them a day in his house, where all the diseased persons in the neighborhood were brought for them to cure, and started with them early on the morning of the 30th of May, to accompany them on their way back to Mosul. On reaching a village, toward noon, a scene took place, which is of so much interest that we give Mr. Bacon's account of it in full:
"We were assisted from our horses by a remarkably ill-looking set of men, whom we supposed to have come out to see us from curiosity. An unprepossessing young gentleman, with a scar that divided his nose and his upper lip, and a silver-mounted dagger, took a seat near the Mullah, and a violent discussion immediately commenced, of the drift of which, we were, happily, ignorant. Soon, another party of villagers appeared, headed by another young man, who was quite the counterpart of the first, even to the scar in his lip; but his dagger-hilt and sheath were of solid silver, set with precious stones, and the long ringlets which hung upon his shoulders, were still more daintily curled. The arrival of this reinforcement renewed the violence of the discussion, between the Mullah on one side, and the young men on the other. It plainly related to us, and the fierce looks of the Kurds, as they walked to and fro with their hands on their daggers, would have alarmed us, had we not had full confidence in the power and good will of our friend. The controversy had a good deal subsided, when the approach of still another party renewed it once more. The Agha himself was coming. He was a man of fifty years, with a once gray beard, dyed a bright red, and with his lower eyebrows stained a livid blue-black. He greeted us with a ferocious smile, and entered at once into earnest conversation with Mullah Mustafa. The conversation was interrupted, now and then, by one of his amiable sons leaping from his seat, and speaking violently, to the great apparent satisfaction of the crowd.
"We soon learned the nature of these discussions from Khudr, who had been an attentive and agitated listener to the whole. The respectable old gentleman, it seems, had sent his first son to murder us, placing the second at a convenient distance to assist him. The latter, surprised that the business lagged, came up to see to it. And the Agha himself, finding that business lagged, came finally to attend to it himself. The Mullah urged the danger of injuring persons of consequence. 'The sword of the Frank is long,' said he. But this argument was without effect. Mustafa then appealed to him not to disgrace his hospitality. These men were under his own protection, and he would not see them wronged. This argument also failed. He now urged that we were men of influence at Mosul, and were going direct to Constantinople; that, by securing our influence against his colleague and rival, Melul Agha, he might secure a perpetual supremacy in the district of Sherwan.
"This plea gained the case; the eyes of the old savage glistened with diabolical satisfaction as he thought of the villainous trick he was about to play upon his rival. He drew from his bosom a letter and handed it to the Mullah, who read it and handed it to our servant. It was written by Melul Agha, to Khan Abdul, our present host, directing him to take the rest of our property, and murder us without fail. This letter had been written on the blank page of another letter, sent to Melul Agha, by Mustafa Agha, of Ziba, who resides at Akkre. It was the last scoundrel who had sent letters in advance of us into the mountains, inviting them to murder us--and this, all for the sake of making a little impression on the government at Mosul."
After these hair-breadth escapes from murder, the party returned in safety to Mosul.
Since the exhibitions in London of the two Hindoo snake-charmers--the first we believe who ever visited Europe--everything relating to serpents seems to have acquired additional interest. Many facts regarding the nature and habits of the various species have been published, affording much information and still greater astonishment.
Waterton, in his "Wanderings in South America and the Antilles, in 1812-24," relates some stories of so marvellous a character, that, coming from a less authentic source, their truth might be reasonably doubted.
While in the region of Mibri Hill, Mr. Waterton long sought in vain for a serpent of large size, and finally, offered a reward to the negroes if they would find him one. A few days afterward one of the natives, followed by his little dog, came to him with the information that a snake of respectable dimensions had been discovered a short distance up the hill; and armed with an eight feet lance, and accompanied by two negroes with cutlasses and the dog, he at once started to take a look at it. Mr. Waterton states that he was barefoot, with an old hat, check shirt and trousers on, and a pair of braces to keep them up. His snakeship was pointed out as lying at the roots of a large tree which had been torn up by a whirlwind. But the remainder of the story shall be given in the traveler's own words:
I advanced up to the place slow and cautious. The snake was well concealed, but at last I made him out; it was a coulacanara, not poisonous, but large enough to have crushed any of us to death. On measuring him afterward, he was something more than fourteen feet long. This species of snake is very rare, and much thicker in proportion to its length than any other snake in the forest. A coulacanara of fourteen feet in length, is as thick as a common boa of twenty-four feet. After skinning this snake, I could easily get my head into his mouth, as the singular formation of the jaws admits of wonderful extension.
On ascertaining the size of the serpent, I retired slowly the way I came, and promised four dollars to the negro who had shown it to me, and one dollar to the other who had joined us. Aware that the day was on the decline, and that the approach of night would be detrimental to the dissection, a thought struck me that I could take him alive. I imagined that if I could strike him with the lance behind the head, and pin him to the ground, I might succeed in capturing him. When I told this to the negroes, they begged and entreated me to let them go for a gun and bring more force, as they were sure the snake would kill some of us. Taking, however, a cutlass from one of the negroes, and then ranging both of the sable slaves behind me, I told them to follow me, and that I would cut them down if they offered to fly. When we had got up to the place, the serpent had not stirred: but I could see nothing of his head, and judged by the folds of his body that it must be at the farthest side of the den. A species of woodbine formed a complete mantle over the branches of the fallen tree, almost impervious to the rain or the rays of the sun. Probably he had resorted to this sequestered place for a length of time, as it bore marks of an ancient settlement.
I now took my knife, determined to cut away the woodbine, and break the twigs in the gentlest manner possible, till I could get a view of his head. One negro stood guard close behind me with a cutlass. The cutlass which I had taken from the first negro, was on the ground close beside me, in case of need. After working in dead silence for a quarter of an hour, with one knee all the time on the ground, I had cleared away enough to see his head. It appeared coming out between the first and second coils of his body, and was flat on the ground. This was the very position I wished it to be in. I rose in silence, and retreated very slowly, making a sign to the negroes to do the same. The dog was sitting at a distance in mute observance. I could now read in the faces of the negroes, that they considered this a very unpleasant affair; and they made another vain attempt to persuade me to let them go for a gun. I smiled in a good-natured manner, and made a feint to cut them down with the weapon I had in my hand. This was all the answer I made to their request, and they looked very uneasy.
It must be observed that we were about twenty yards from the snake's den. I now ranged the negroes behind me, and told him who stood next to me, to lay hold of the lance the moment I struck the snake, and that the other must attend my movements. It now only remained to take their cutlasses from them; for I was sure that if I did not disarm them, they would be tempted to strike the snake in time of danger, and thus forever spoil his skin. On taking their cutlasses from them, if I might judge from their physiognomy, they seemed to consider it as a most intolerable act of tyranny. Probably nothing kept them from bolting, but the consolation that I was betwixt them and the snake. Indeed, my own heart, in spite of all I could do, beat quicker than usual. We went slowly on in silence, without moving our arms or heads, in order to prevent all alarm as much as possible, lest the snake should glide off, or attack us in self-defence. I carried the lance perpendicularly before me, with the point about a foot from the ground. The snake had not moved, and on getting up to him, I struck him with the lance on the near side, just behind the neck, and pinned him to the ground. That moment the negro next to me seized the lance and held it firm in its place, while I dashed head foremost into the den to grapple with the snake, and to get hold of his tail before he could do any mischief.
On pinning him to the ground with the lance, he gave a tremendous loud hiss, and the little dog ran away, howling as he went. We had a sharp fray in the den, the rotten sticks flying on all sides, and each party struggling for superiority. I called out to the second negro to throw himself upon me, as I found I was not heavy enough. He did so, and the additional weight was of great service. I had now got a firm hold of his tail, and after a violent struggle or two, he gave in, finding himself overpowered. This was the moment to secure him. So while the first negro continued to hold the lance firm to the ground, and the other was helping me, I contrived to unloosen my braces, and with them tied the snake's mouth.
The snake now finding himself in an unpleasant predicament, tried to better himself, and set resolutely to work, but we overpowered him. We contrived to make him twist himself round the shaft of the lance, and then prepared to convey him out of the forest. I stood at his head, and held it firm under my arm, one negro supporting the belly and the other the tail. In this order we began to move slowly toward home, and reached it after resting ten times; for the snake was too heavy for us to support, without stopping to recruit our strength. As we proceeded onward with him, he fought hard for freedom, but it was all in vain. We untied the mouth of the bag, kept him down by main force, and then cut his throat.
The week following, a curious conflict took place near the spot where I had captured the large snake. In the morning I had been following a species of paroquet, and, the day being rainy, I had taken an umbrella to keep the gun dry, and had left it under a tree: in the afternoon, I took Daddy Quashi (the negro) with me to look for it. While he was searching about, curiosity led me toward the place of the late scene of action. There was a path where timber had formerly been dragged along. Here I observed a young coulacanara, ten feet long, slowly moving onward; and I saw he was thick enough to break my arm, in case he got twisted around it. There was not a moment to be lost. I laid hold of his tail with the left hand, one knee being on the ground; and, with the right hand, I took off my hat, and held it as I would hold a shield for defence.
The snake instantly turned, and came on at me with his head about a yard from the ground, as if to ask me what business I had to take such liberties with his tail. I let him come, hissing and open-mouthed, within two feet of my face, and then, with all the force that I was master of, drove my fist, shielded by my hat, full in his jaws. He was stunned and confounded by the blow, and, ere he could recover himself, I had seized his throat with both hands, in such a position that he could not bite me. I then allowed him to coil himself around my body and marched off with him as my lawful prize. He pressed me hard, but not alarmingly so.