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OPOSSUM HUNTING. |
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OPOSSUM HUNTING.
An opossum was made to represent the class of natural
lusus naturœ, for they are certainly the most singular,
inexplicable little animals that live. In their creation,
Dame Nature seems to have shown a willingness, if necessary,
to be ridiculous, just for the sake of introducing
a new fashion. We will not, however, go into particulars,
for we might infringe upon the details of “breeding,”
and thereby “o'erstep the modesty of nature.”
One of the peculiarities of the opossum that attracts
to it general attention, is the singular pouch they have
under the belly, in which their young are carried before
their complete development, and also into which they
retreat when alarmed by the approach of danger.
This particular organ contains in its interior, ten or
twelve teats, to which the young, after what seems a
premature birth, are attached, and where they hang for
about fifty days, then drop off, and commence a more
active state of existence.
This animal evidently varies in size in different latitudes.
In Louisiana they grow quite large compared
with those inhabiting more northern climates.
The opossum ranges in length from twelve to fifteen
inches, the tail is about the same extent. The body is
covered with a rough coating of white, gray, and brown
hair, so intermixed and rough, that it makes the animal
look as if it had been wet and then drawn through a coalhole
or ash-heap. The feet, the ears, and the snout are
naked.
The organs of sense and motion in this little animal
seem to be exceedingly dull. Their eyes are prominent,
hanging like black beads out of their sockets, and appear
to be perfectly destitute of lids, with a pupil similar
to those of a cat, which shows that they are suited
to midnight depredations.
The nostrils of the opossum are evidently well developed,
and upon the smell almost exclusively, is it dependent
for its preservation. The ears look as if they
were pieces of dark or soft kid skin, rolled up and fastened
in their proper places. The mouth is exceedingly
large and unmeaning, and ornamented with innumerable
sharp teeth, yet there is very little strength in the jaws.
The paws or hands of the animal are the seat of its
most delicate sensibility, and in their construction are
developed some of the most wonderful displays of the
ingenuity of an All-wise Providence, to overcome the
construction.
The opossum makes a burrow in the ground, generally
found near habitations. In the day time it sleeps,
and prowls at night. The moon in its brilliancy seems
to dazzle it, for under the bright rays of the queen of
night it is often knocked on the head by the negro hunter,
without apparently perceiving it has an enemy near.
The habits of the opossum generally resemble those
of the “coon” and fox, though they are, as might be
supposed from our imperfect description, infinitely less
intelligent in defending themselves against the attack
of an enemy. Knock an opossum on the head or any
part of the body, with a weapon of any kind, small or
great, and if he makes any resistance at all, he will endeavor
to bite the weapon, instead of the agent using
it. The opossum is, in fact, a harmless little creature,
and seems to belong to some peace society, the members
of which have agreed to act toward the world as the
boy promised to do with the bull-dog, “If you will let
me alone, I won't trouble you.”
Put the animal in a critical situation, and he will
resort to stratagem instead of force to elude his pursuers;
for if he finds escape impossible, he will feign
himself dead in advance of giving you an opportunity to
carry out your destructive intentions toward him; or
when you think you have destroyed him, he will watch
will make his escape.
This trick of the little animal has given rise to a
proverb of much meaning among those acquainted with
his habits, entitled, “playing 'possum,” and probably it
is as good an illustration of certain deceptive actions of
life as can be well imagined.
Take an opossum in good health, corner him up until
escape is impossible, then give him a gentle tap on
the body that would hardly crush a mosquito, and he
will straighten out, and be, according to all indications,
perfectly dead. In this situation you may thump him,
cut his flesh, and half skin him; not a muscle will
move; his eyes are glazed and covered with dust, for he
has no eyelids to close over them. You may even worry
him with a dog, and satisfy yourself that he is really
defunct; then leave him quiet a moment, and he will
draw a thin film from his eyes, and, if not interfered
with, be among the missing.
An Irishman, meeting with one of these little animals
in a public road, was thrown into admiration at its
appearance, and on being asked why he did not bring
the “thing” home with him, said he:
“On sight, I popped him with my shillelah; he died
off immadiately, and I thrust the spalpeen into my coat
pocket: `There's a dinner, ony how,' I said to myself;
and scarcely had I made the observation, than he commenced
devouring me, biting through my breeches, the
gave him another tap on the head that would have kilt
an Orangeman at Donnybrook Fair: `Take that for a
finis, you desateful crater,' said I, slinging him upon
my back. Well, murther, if he didn't have me by the
sate of honor in no time. `Och, ye 'Merica cat, ye, I'll
bate the sivin lives out of ye!' and at him I wint till
the bones of his body cracked, and he was clean kilt.
Then catching him by the tail, for fear of accidents, if
he didn't turn round and give my thumb a pinch, I'm
no Irishman. `Off wid ye!' I hallooed with a shout,
`for some ill-mannered ghost of the divil, with a rat's
tail: and if I throubles the likes of ye again, may I ride
backwards at my own funeral!”'
There is one other striking characteristic about the
opossum, which, we presume, Shakspeare had a prophetic
vision of, when he wrote that celebrated sentence,
“Thereby hangs a tail;” for this important appendage,
next to its “playing 'possum,” is most extraordinary.
This tail is long, black, and destitute of hair, and although
it will not enable its possessor, like the kangaroo,
in the language of the showman, “to jump fifteen feet
upwards and forty downwards,” still it is of great importance
in climbing trees, and supporting the animal
when watching for its prey.
By this tail the 'possum suspends itself for hours to
a swinging limb of a tree, either for amusement or for
the purpose of sleeping, which last he will do while thus
depend upon his own will. This “tail hold” is so firm,
that shooting the animal will not cause him to let go,
even if you blow his head off; on the contrary, he will
remain hung up, until the birds of prey and the elements
have scattered his carcass to the winds; and yet the
tail will remain an object of unconquered attachment to
its last object of circumlocuting embrace.
An old backwoods “Boanerges” of our acquaintance,
who occasionally threw down his lap-stone and
awl, and went through the country to stir up the people
to look after the “consarns of their latter end,” enforced
the necessity of perseverance in good works, by
comparing a true Christian to an opossum up a tall
sapling, in a strong wind. Said he, “My brethren,
that's your situation exactly; the world, the flesh, and
the devil, compose the wind that is trying to blow you
off the gospel tree. But don't let go of it; hold on as
a 'possum would in a hurricane. If the fore legs of
your passions get loose, hold on by your hind legs of
conscientiousness; and if they let go, hold on eternally
by your tail, which is the promise that the saints shall
persevere unto the end.”
As an animal of sport, the opossum is of course of
an inferior character; the negroes, however, look upon
the creature as the most perfect of game, and are much
astonished that the fox and deer should be preferred;
and the hilarity with which they pursue the sport of
inveterate follower after nobler beasts.
Fine moonlight nights are generally chosen on such
occasions; three or four negroes, armed with a couple
of axes, and accompanied by a cur dog, who understands
his business, will sally out for 'possum hunting, and
nothing can be more joyous, than their loud laugh and
coarse joke on these midnight hunts. The dog scents
the animals, for they are numerous, and “barks up the
right tree.” A torch made of light wood or pitch pine,
is soon diffusing a brilliant light, and the axe is struck
into the tree containing the game,—let it be a big tree
or a small one, it matters not; the growth of a century,
or of a few years only, yields to the “forerunner of civilization,”
and comes to the ground.
While this is going on the dog keeps his eye on the
'possum, barking all the while with the greatest animation.
In the mean time, the negroes, as they relieve
each other at the work of chopping, make night vocal
with laughter and songs, and on such occasions particularly,
will you hear “Sitting on a Rail,” cavatina fashion,
from voices that would command ten thousand a
year from any opera manager on the Continent.
The tree begins to totter; the motion is new to the
'possum, and as it descends, the little animal instinctively
climbs to the highest limb. Crash, and off
he goes to the ground, and not unfrequently into the
very jaws of the dog; if this is not the case, a short
himself dead,—falls into the wrong
hands, and is at once, really killed.
Such is opossum hunting among the negroes, a sport
in which more hard labor is got through with in a few
hours than will be performed by the same individuals
throughout the whole of the next day. Sometimes two
or three opossums are killed,—and if a negro is proud of
a yellow vest, a sky-blue stock, and red inexpressibles;
with a dead opossum in his possession, he is sublimated.
Among gentlemen, we have seen one occasionally
who amuses himself with bringing down an opossum
with a rifle, and we have met one who has given the hunt
a character, and really reduced it to a science. We
were expressing some surprise at the kind manner with
which our friend spoke of opossum hunting, and we
were disposed to laugh at his taste; we were told very
gravely that we were in the presence of a proficient in
'possum hunting, and if we desired, we should have a
specimen at sundown, and by the dignity of the hunt we
would be compelled to admit that there were a great
many ways of doing the same thing. The proposition
came from our host, and we at once consented.
The night was dark, and I noticed this, and spoke
of it; and the reply was, that such a night only, would
answer the purpose. A half hour's ride brought us into
the depths of the forest, and in the extra darkness of
a torch. Our dogs—for there were two of them—
soon gave notice that we were in the vicinity of an opossum,
and finally, directed by their noses—for eyes were
of no use—they opened loud and strong, and satisfied us
that an opossum was over our heads.
At this moment I was completely puzzled to know
how we were to get at the animal, I must confess; we
had no axe, and a millstone intervening between the
oppossum and our eyes, could not have shut it out of
sight more effectually than did the surrounding darkness,
which seemed to be growing “thicker” every moment,
by contrast with the glaring torch.
The negro who accompanied us, without ceremony
kindled a large fire about twenty feet from the base of
the tree in which our game was lodged, and as soon as
it was well kindled and burning merrily, my companion
seated himself about forty feet from the base of the
tree, bringing the trunk of it directly between himself
and the fire. I took a seat by his side by request, and
waited patiently to see what would come next. The fire
continued to burn each moment more brightly, and the
tree that intervened between us and it became more prominent,
and its dark outline became more and more distinct,
until the most minute branch and leaf was perfectly
visible.
“Now,” said mine host, “we will have the opossum.
Do you see that large knotty-looking substance
will speak to it.”
The sharp report of the rifle followed, and the negro
that accompanied us picked up a large piece of bark that
fell rattling to the ground. The rifle was reloaded, and
another suspicious-looking protuberance was fired at, and
another knot was shattered. Again was the rifle reloaded,
and the tree more carefully examined. Hardly had its
shrill report awakened the echoes of the forest for the
third time, before a grunt that would have done honor
to a stuck pig was heard, and the solid fat body of the
'possum fell at our feet. The negro picked it up, relit
his torch, and we proceeded homeward.
When reseated by a comfortable fire, we were asked
our opinion by our host of “a white man's 'possum
hunt;” we expressed our unqualified approbation of the
whole affair, although we thought at first that any improvement
on the negro's mode of doing the business
would be “painting the lily!”
As an article of food the opossum is considered by
many a very great luxury; the flesh, it is said, tastes not
unlike roast pig. We should have liked very much to
have heard “Elia's” description of a dish of it; he
found sentiment and poetry in a pig,—where would he
have soared to over a dish of 'possum?
In cooking the “varmint,” the Indians suspend it on
a stick by its tail, and in this position they let it roast
before the fire; this mode does not destroy a sort of
unpalatable.
The negroes, on the contrary—and, by the way, they
are all amateurs in the cooking art—when cooking for
themselves, do much better. They bury the body up with
sweet potatoes, and as the meat roasts, thus confined, the
succulent vegetables draw out all objectionable tastes,
and render the opossum “one of the greatest delicacies
in the world.” At least, so say a crowd of respectable
witnesses. We profess to have no experience in
the matter, not yet having learned to sing with enthusiasm
the common negro melody of
“'Possum fat and `tater.”'
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