The Hunters' Feast Part 12

"I saw that I was in extreme peril, and put forth all my energies. I swept my gun wildly around me; but where one of the fierce brutes was knocked over, another leaped into his place, as determined as he. Still I had no help for it, and I shouted at the top of my voice, all the while battling with desperation.

"I still kept upon the highest point of the log, as there they could not all come around me at once; and I saw that I could thus better defend myself. But even with this advantage, the a.s.saults of the animals were so incessant, and my exertions in keeping them off so continuous, that I was in danger of falling into their jaws from very exhaustion.

"I was growing weak and wearied--I was beginning to despair for my life--when on winding my gun over my head in order to give force to my blows, I felt it strike against something behind me. It was the branch of a tree, that stretched over the spot where I was standing.

"A new thought came suddenly into my mind. Could I climb the tree? I knew that they could not, and in the tree I should be safe.

"I looked upward; the branch was within reach. I seized upon it and brought it nearer. I drew a long breath, and with all the strength that remained in my body sprang upward.

"I succeeded in getting upon the limb, and the next moment I had crawled along it, and sat close in by the trunk. I breathed freely--I was safe.

"It was some time before I thought of anything else than resting myself.

I remained a full half-hour before I moved in my perch. Occasionally I looked down at my late tormentors. I saw that instead of going off, they were still there. They ran around the root of the tree, leaping up against its trunk, and tearing the bark with their teeth. They kept constantly uttering their shrill, disagreeable grunts; and the odour, resembling the smell of musk and garlic, which they emitted from their dorsal glands, almost stifled me. I saw that they showed no disposition to retire, but, on the contrary, were determined to make me stand siege.

"Now and then they pa.s.sed out to where their dead comrade lay upon the gra.s.s, but this seemed only to bind their resolution the faster, for they always returned again, grunting as fiercely as ever.

"I had hopes that my friend would be up by this time, and would come to my rescue; but it was not likely neither, as he would not `miss' me until I had remained long enough to make my absence seem strange. As it was, that would not be until after night, or perhaps far in the next day. It was no unusual thing for me to wander off with my gun, and be gone for a period of at least twenty hours.

"I sat for hours on my painful perch--now looking down at the spiteful creatures beneath--now bending my eyes across the great corn-field, in hopes of seeing some one. At times the idea crossed my mind, that even upon the morrow I might not be missed!

"I might perish with hunger, with thirst--I was suffering from both at the moment--or even if I kept alive, I might become so weak as not to be able to hold on to the tree. My seat was far from being an easy one.

The tree was small--the branch was slender. It was already cutting into my thighs. I might, in my feebleness, be compelled to let it go, and then--.

"These reflections were terrible; and as they came across my mind, I shouted to the highest pitch of my voice, hoping I should be heard.

"Up to this time I had not thought of using my gun, although clinging to it instinctively. I had brought it with me into the tree. It now occurred to me to fire it, in hopes that my friend or some one might hear the report.

"I balanced myself on the branch as well as I could, and loaded it with powder. I was about to fire it off in the air, when it appeared to me that I might just as well reduce the number of my enemies. I therefore rammed down a ball, took aim at the forehead of one, and knocked him over.

"Another idea now arose in my mind, and that was, that I might serve the whole gang as I had done this one. His fall had not frightened them in the least; they only came nearer, throwing up their snouts and uttering their shrill notes--thus giving me a better chance of hitting them.

"I repeated the loading and firing. Another enemy the less.

"Hope began to return. I counted my bullets, and held my horn up to the sun. There were over twenty bullets, and powder sufficient. I counted the peccaries. Sixteen still lived, with three that I had done for.

"I again loaded and fired--loaded and fired--loaded and fired. I aimed so carefully each time, that out of all I missed only one shot.

"When the firing ceased, I dropped down from my perch in the midst of a scene that resembled a great slaughter-yard. Nineteen of the creatures lay dead around the tree, and the ground was saturated with their blood!

"The voice of my friend at this moment sounded in my ears, and turning, I beheld him standing, with hands uplifted and eyes as large as saucers.

"The `feat' was soon reported through the settlement, and I was looked upon for the time as the greatest hunter in the `Trinity Bottom.'"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

A DUCK-SHOOTING ADVENTURE.

During our next day's journey we again fell in with flocks of the wild pigeon, and our stock was renewed. We were very glad of this, as we were getting tired of the dry salt bacon, and another "pot-pie" from Lanty's _cuisine_ was quite welcome. The subject of the pigeons was exhausted, and we talked no more about them. Ducks were upon the table in a double sense, for during the march we had fallen in with a brood of the beautiful little summer ducks (_Anas sponsa_), and had succeeded in shooting several of them. These little creatures, however, did not occupy our attention, but the far more celebrated species known as the "canvas-back" (_Anas vallisneria_).

Of the two dozen species of American wild-ducks, none has a wider celebrity than that known as the canvas-back; even the eider-duck is less thought of, as the Americans care little for beds of down. But the juicy, fine-flavoured flesh of the canvas-back is esteemed by all cla.s.ses of people; and epicures prize it above that of all other winged creatures, with the exception, perhaps, of the reed-bird or rice-hunting, and the prairie-hen. These last enjoy a celebrity almost if not altogether equal. The prairie-hen, however, is the _bon morceau_ of western epicures; while the canvas-back is only to be found in the great cities of the Atlantic. The reed-bird--in the West Indies called "ortolan"--is also found in the same markets with the canvas-back. The flesh of all three of these birds--although the birds themselves are of widely-different families--is really of the most delicious kind; it would be hard to say which of them is the greatest favourite.

The canvas-back is not a large duck, rarely exceeding three pounds in weight. Its colour is very similar to the pochard of Europe: its head is a uniform deep chestnut, its breast black; while the back and upper parts of the wings present a surface of bluish-grey, so lined and mottled as to resemble--though very slightly--the texture of canvas: hence the trivial name of the bird.

Like most of the water-birds of America, the canvas-back is migratory.

It proceeds in spring to the cold countries of the Hudson's Bay territory, and returns southward in October, appearing in immense flocks along the Atlantic sh.o.r.es. It does not spread over the fresh-water lakes of the United States, but confines itself to three or four well-known haunts, the princ.i.p.al of which is the great Chesapeake Bay.

This preference for the Chesapeake Bay is easily accounted for, as here its favourite food is found in the greatest abundance. Hound the mouths of the rivers that run into this bay, there are extensive shoals of brackish water; these favour the growth of a certain plant of the genus _vallisneria_--a gra.s.s-like plant, standing several feet out of the water, with deep green leaves, and stems, and having a white and tender root. On this root, which is of such a character as to have given the plant, the trivial name of "wild celery," the canvas-back feeds exclusively; for wherever it is not to be found, neither does the bird make its appearance. Diving for it, and bringing it up in its bill, the canvas-back readily breaks off the long lanceolate leaves, which float off, either to be eaten by another species--the pochard--or to form immense banks of wrack, that are thrown up against the adjacent sh.o.r.es.

It is to the roots of the wild celery that the flesh of the canvas-back owes its esteemed flavour, causing it to be in such demand that very often a pair of these ducks will bring three dollars in the markets of New York and Philadelphia. When the finest turkey can be had for less than a third of that sum, some idea may be formed of the superior estimation in which the web-footed favourites are held.

Of course, shooting the canvas-back duck is extensively practised, not only as an amus.e.m.e.nt, but as a professional occupation. Various means are employed to slaughter these birds: decoys by means of dogs, duck boats armed with guns that resemble infernal-machines, and disguises of every possible kind. The birds themselves are extremely shy; and a shot at them is only obtained by great ingenuity, and after considerable dodging. They are excellent divers; and when only wounded, almost always make good their escape. Their shyness is overcome by their curiosity. A dog placed upon the sh.o.r.e, near where they happen to be, and trained to run backwards and forwards, will almost always seduce them within shot. Should the dog himself not succeed, a red rag wrapped around his body, or tied to his tail, will generally bring about the desired result. There are times, however, when the ducks have been much shot at, that even this decoy fails of success.

On account of the high price the canvas-backs bring in the market, they are pursued by the hunters with great a.s.siduity, and are looked upon as a source of much profit. So important has this been considered, that in the international treaties between the States bordering upon the Chesapeake, there are several clauses or articles relating to them that limit the right of shooting to certain parties. An infringement of this right, some three or four years ago, led to serious collisions between the gunners of Philadelphia and Baltimore. So far was the dispute carried, that schooners armed, and filled with armed men, cruised for some time on the waters of the Chesapeake, and all the initiatory steps of a little war were taken by both parties. The interference of the general government prevented what would have proved, had it been left to itself, a very sanguinary affair.

It so chanced that I had met with a rather singular adventure while duck-shooting on the Chesapeake Bay, and the story was related thus: "I was staying for some days at the house of a friend--a planter--who lived near the mouth of a small river that runs into the Chesapeake. I felt inclined to have a shot at the far-famed canvas-backs. I had often eaten of these birds, but had novel shot one, or even seen them in their natural _habitat_. I was, therefore, anxious to try my hand upon them, and I accordingly set out one morning for that purpose.

"My friend lived upon the bank of the river, some distance above tide-water. As the wild celery grows only in brackish water--that is, neither in the salt sea itself nor yet in the fresh-water rivers--I had to pa.s.s down the little stream a mile or more before I came to the proper place for finding the ducks. I went in a small skiff, with no other companion than an ill-favoured cur-dog, with which I had been furnished, and which was represented to me as one of the best `duck-dogs' in the country.

"My friend having business elsewhere, unfortunately could not upon that day give me his company; but I knew something of the place, and being _au fait_ in most of the dodges of duck-hunting, I fancied I was quite able to take care of myself.

"Floating and rowing by turns, I soon came in sight of the bay and the wild celery fields, and also of flocks of water-fowl of different species, among which I could recognise the pochards, the canvas-backs, and the common American widgeon.

"Seeking a convenient place near the mouth of the stream, I landed; and, tying the skiff to some weeds, proceeded in search of a cover. This was soon found--some bushes favoured me; and having taken my position, I set the dog to his work. The brute, however, took but little notice of my words and gestures of encouragement, I fancied that he had a wild and frightened look, but I attributed this to my being partially a stranger to him; and was in hopes that, as soon as we became better acquainted, he would work in a different manner.

"I was disappointed, however, as, do what I might, he would not go near the water, nor would he perform the trick of running to and fro which I had been a.s.sured by my friend he would be certain to do. On the contrary, he cowered among the bushes, near where I had stationed myself, and seemed unwilling to move out of them. Two or three times, when I dragged him forward, and motioned him toward the water, he rushed back again, and ran under the brushwood.

"I was exceedingly provoked with this conduct of the dog, the more so that a flock of canvas-backs, consisting of several thousands, was seated upon the water not more than half a mile from the sh.o.r.e. Had my dog done his duty, I have no doubt they might have been brought within range; and, calculating upon this, I had made sure of a n.o.ble shot. My expectations, however, were defeated by the waywardness of the dog, and I saw there was no hope of doing anything with him.

"Having arrived at this conclusion, after some hours spent to no purpose, I rose from my cover, and marched back to the skiff. I did not even motion the wretched cur to follow me; and I should have rowed off without him, risking the chances of my friend's displeasure, but it pleased the animal himself to trot after me without invitation, and, on arriving at the boat, to leap voluntarily into it.

"I was really so provoked with the brute, that I felt much inclined to pitch him out, again. My vexation, however, gradually left me; and I stood up in the skiff, turning over in my mind what course I should pursue next.

"I looked toward the flock of canvas-backs. It, was a tantalising sight. They sat upon the water as light as corks, and as close together as sportsman could desire for a shot. A well-aimed discharge could not have failed to kill a score of them at least.

"Was there no way of approaching them? This question I had put to myself for the twentieth time without being able to answer it to my satisfaction.

"An idea at length flitted across my brain. I had often approached common mallards by concealing my boat under branches or furze, and then floating down upon them, impelled either by the wind or the current of a stream. Might not this also succeed with the canvas-backs?

"I resolved upon making the experiment. The flock was in a position to enable me to do so. They were to the leeward of a sedge of the _vallisneria_. The wind would carry my skiff through this; and the green bushes with which I intended to disguise it would not be distinguished from the sedge, which was also green.

"The thing was feasible. I deemed it so. I set about cutting some leafy branches that grew near, and trying them along the gunwales of my little craft. In less than half an hour, I pushed her from the sh.o.r.e; and no one at a distance would have taken her for aught else than a floating raft of brushwood.

"I now pulled quietly out until I had got exactly to windward of the ducks, at about half a mile's distance from the edge of the flock. I then took in the paddles, and permitted the skiff to glide before the wind. I took the precaution to place myself in such a manner that I was completely hidden, while through the branches I commanded a view of the surface on any side I might wish to look.

"The bushes acted as a sail, and I was soon drifted down among the plants of the wild celery. I feared that this might stay my progress, as the breeze was light, and might not carry me through. But the sward, contrary to what is usual, was thin at the place where the skiff had entered, and I felt, to my satisfaction, that I was moving, though slowly, in the right direction.

"I remember that the heat annoyed me at the time. It was the month of November; but it was that peculiar season known as `Indian summer', and the heat was excessive--not under 90 degrees, I am certain. The shrubbery that encircled me prevented a breath of air from reaching my body; and the rays of the noonday sun fell almost vertically in that southern lat.i.tude, scorching me as I lay along the bottom of the boat.