University of Virginia Library

THE EARLY EXPERIENCES OF RALPH RINGWOOD.

NOTED DOWN FROM HIS CONVERSATIONS:
BY GEOFFREY CRAYON, GENT.[1]

“I am a Kentuckian by residence and choice, but a Virginian by
birth. The cause of my first leaving the `Ancient Dominion,'
and emigrating to Kentucky, was a jackass! You stare, but
have a little patience, and I'll soon show you how it came to pass.
My father, who was of one of the old Virginian families, resided in
Richmond. He was a widower, and his domestic affairs were
managed by a housekeeper of the old school, such as used to administer
the concerns of opulent Virginian households. She was
a dignitary that almost rivalled my father in importance, and
seemed to think every thing belonged to her; in fact she was so
considerate in her economy, and so careful of expense, as sometimes
to vex my father; who would swear she was disgracing

him by her meanness. She always appeared with that ancient
insignia of housekeeping trust and authority, a great bunch
of keys jingling at her girdle. She superintended the arrangements
of the table at every meal, and saw that the dishes were all
placed according to her primitive notions of symmetry. In the
evening she took her stand and served out tea with a mingled respectfulness
and pride of station, truly exemplary. Her great
ambition was to have every thing in order, and that the establishment
under her sway should be cited as a model of good housekeeping.
If any thing went wrong, poor old Barbara would take
it to heart, and sit in her room and cry; until a few chapters in
the Bible would quiet her spirits, and make all calm again. The
Bible, in fact, was her constant resort in time of trouble. She
opened it indiscriminately, and whether she chanced among the
Lamentations of Jeremiah, the Canticles of Solomon, or the
rough enumeration of the tribes in Deuteronomy, a chapter was
a chapter, and operated like balm to her soul. Such was our
good old housekeeper Barbara; who was destined, unwittingly,
to have a most important effect upon my destiny.

“It came to pass, during the days of my juvenility, while I
was yet what is termed `an unlucky boy,' that a gentleman of our
neighborhood, a great advocate for experiments and improvements
of all kinds, took it into his head that it would be an immense
public advantage to introduce a breed of mules, and accordingly
imported three jacks to stock the neighborhood. This in a
part of the country where the people cared for nothing but
blood horses! Why, sir! they would have considered their
mares disgraced, and their whole stud dishonored, by such a misalliance.
The whole matter was a town-talk, and a town scandal.

The worthy amalgamator of quadrupeds found himself in a dismal
scrape; so he backed out in time, abjured the whole doctrine
of amalgamation, and turned his jacks loose to shift for themselves
upon the town common. There they used to run about and lead
an idle, good-for-nothing, holiday life, the happiest animals in the
country.

“It so happened, that my way to school lay across the common.
The first time that I saw one of these animals, it set up a
braying and frightened me confoundedly. However, I soon got
over my fright, and seeing that it had something of a horse look,
my Virginian love for any thing of the equestrian species predominated,
and I determined to back it. I accordingly applied at a
grocer's shop, procured a cord that had been round a loaf of sugar,
and made a kind of halter; then summoning some of my school-fellows,
we drove master Jack about the common until we hemmed
him in an angle of a `worm fence.' After some difficulty, we
fixed the halter round his muzzle, and I mounted. Up flew his
heels, away I went over his head, and off he scampered. However,
I was on my legs in a twinkling, gave chase, caught him,
and remounted. By dint of repeated tumbles I soon learned
to stick to his back, so that he could no more cast me than he
could his own skin. From that time, master Jack and his companions
had a scampering life of it, for we all rode them between
school hours, and on holiday afternoons; and you may be sure
school-boys' nags are never permitted to suffer the grass to grow
under their feet. They soon became so knowing, that they
took to their heels at sight of a school-boy; and we were generally
much longer in chasing than we were in riding them.

“Sunday approached, on which I projected an equestrian excursion

on one of these long-eared steeds. As I knew the jacks
would be in great demand on Sunday morning, I secured one
over night, and conducted him home, to be ready for an early
outset. But where was I to quarter him for the night? I could not
put him in the stable; our old black groom George was as absolute
in that domain as Barbara was within doors, and would have thought
his stable, his horses, and himself disgraced, by the introduction
of a jackass. I recollected the smoke-house; an out-building
appended to all Virginian establishments for the smoking of hams,
and other kinds of meat. So I got the key, put master Jack in,
locked the door, returned the key to its place, and went to bed,
intending to release my prisoner at an early hour, before any of
the family were awake. I was so tired, however, by the exertions
I had made in catching the donkey, that I fell into a sound sleep,
and the morning broke without my waking.

“Not so with dame Barbara, the housekeeper. As usual, to
use her own phrase, `she was up before the crow put his shoes on,'
and bustled about to get things in order for breakfast. Her first
resort was to the smoke-house. Scarce had she opened the door,
when master Jack, tired of his confinement, and glad to be released
from darkness, gave a loud bray, and rushed forth. Down dropped
old Barbara; the animal trampled over her, and made off for
the common. Poor Barbara! She had never before seen a donkey,
and having read in the Bible that the Devil went about like
a roaring lion, seeking whom he might devour, she took it for
granted that this was Beelzebub himself. The kitchen was soon
in a hubbub; the servants hurried to the spot. There lay old
Barbara in fits; as fast as she got out of one, the thoughts of the
Devil came over her, and she fell into another, for the good soul
was devoutly superstitious.

“As ill luck would have it, among those attracted by the
noise, was a little cursed fidgetty, crabbed uncle of mine; one of
those uneasy spirits that cannot rest quietly in their beds in the
morning, but must be up early, to bother the household. He was
only a kind of half uncle, after all, for he had married my father's
sister: yet he assumed great authority on the strength of this left-handed
relationship, and was a universal intermeddler, and family
pest. This prying little busy-body soon ferreted out the truth of
the story, and discovered, by hook and by crook, that I was at
the bottom of the affair, and had locked up the donkey in the
smoke-house. He stopped to inquire no farther, for he was one of
those testy curmudgeons, with whom unlucky boys are always in
the wrong. Leaving old Barbara to wrestle in imagination with
the Devil, he made for my bed-chamber, where I still lay wrapped
in rosy slumbers, little dreaming of the mischief I had done,
and the storm about to break over me.

“In an instant, I was awakened by a shower of thwacks, and
started up in wild amazement. I demanded the meaning of this
attack, but received no other reply than that I had murdered the
housekeeper; while my uncle continued whacking away during my
confusion. I seized a poker, and put myself on the defensive. I
was a stout boy for my years, while my uncle was a little wiffet of
a man; one that in Kentucky we would not call even an `individual;'
nothing more than a `remote circumstance.' I soon,
therefore, brought him to a parley, and learned the whole extent
of the charge brought against me. I confessed to the donkey and
the smoke-house, but pleaded not guilty of the murder of the housekeeper.
I soon found out that old Barbara was still alive. She
continued under the doctor's hands, however, for several days;

and whenever she had an ill turn, my uncle would seek to give me
another flogging. I appealed to my father, but got no redress. I
was considered an `unlucky boy,' prone to all kinds of mischief;
so that prepossessions were against me, in all cases of appeal.

“I felt stung to the soul at all this. I had been beaten, degraded,
and treated with slighting when I complained. I lost my
usual good spirits and good humor; and, being out of temper with
every body, fancied every body out of temper with me. A certain
wild, roving spirit of freedom, which I believe is as inherent in me
as it is in the partridge, was brought into sudden activity by the
checks and restraints I suffered. `I'll go from home,' thought I,
`and shift for myself.' Perhaps this notion was quickened by the
rage for emigrating to Kentucky, which was at that time prevalent
in Virginia. I had heard such stories of the romantic
beauties of the country; of the abundance of game of all kinds,
and of the glorious independent life of the hunters who ranged its
noble forests, and lived by the rifle, that I was as much agog to
get there, as boys who live in sea-ports are to launch themselves
among the wonders and adventures of the ocean.

“After a time, old Barbara got better in mind and body, and
matters were explained to her; and she became gradually convinced
that it was not the Devil she had encountered. When she
heard how harshly I had been treated on her account, the good
old soul was extremely grieved, and spoke warmly to my father
in my behalf. He had himself remarked the change in my behavior,
and thought punishment might have been carried too far.
He sought, therefore, to have some conversation with me, and to
soothe my feelings; but it was too late. I frankly told him the
course of mortification that I had experienced, and the fixed determination
I had made to go from home.

“`And where do you mean to go?'

“`To Kentucky.'

“`To Kentucky! Why, you know nobody there.'

“`No matter: I can soon make acquaintances.'

“`And what will you do when you get there?'

“`Hunt!'

“My father gave a long, low whistle, and looked in my face
with a serio-comic expression. I was not far in my teens, and to
talk of setting off alone for Kentucky, to turn hunter, seemed
doubtless the idle prattle of a boy. He was little aware of the
dogged resolution of my character; and his smile of incredulity
but fixed me more obstinately in my purpose. I assured him I
was serious in what I said, and would certainly set off for Kentucky
in the spring.

“Month after month passed away. My father now and then
adverted slightly to what had passed between us; doubtless for
the purpose of sounding me. I always expressed the same grave
and fixed determination. By degrees he spoke to me more directly
on the subject; endeavoring earnestly but kindly to dissuade me.
My only reply was, `I had made up my mind.'

“Accordingly, as soon as the spring had fairly opened, I
sought him one day in his study, and informed him I was about
to set out for Kentucky, and had come to take my leave. He
made no objection, for he had exhausted persuasion and remonstrance,
and doubtless thought it best to give way to my humor,
trusting that a little rough experience would soon bring me home
again. I asked money for my journey. He went to a chest, took
out a long green silk purse, well filled, and laid it on the table.
I now asked for a horse and servant.

“`A horse!' said my father, sneeringly: `why, you would
not go a mile without racing him, and breaking your neck; and
as to a servant, you cannot take care of yourself, much less of him.'

“`How am I to travel, then?'

“`Why, I suppose you are man enough to travel on foot.'

“He spoke jestingly, little thinking I would take him at his
word; but I was thoroughly piqued in respect to my enterprise;
so I pocketed the purse; went to my room, tied up three or four
shirts in a pocket-handkerchief, put a dirk in my bosom, girt a
couple of pistols round my waist, and felt like a knight-errant
armed cap-à-pie, and ready to rove the world in quest of adventures.

“My sister (I had but one) hung round me and wept, and entreated
me to stay. I felt my heart swell in my throat: but I
gulped it back to its place, and straightened myself up: I would
not suffer myself to cry. I at length disengaged myself from her,
and got to the door.

“`When will you come back?' cried she.

“`Never, by heavens!' cried I, `until I come back a member
of Congress from Kentucky. I am determined to show that
I am not the tail-end of the family.'

“Such was my first outset from home. You may suppose
what a green-horn I was, and how little I knew of the world I
was launching into.

“I do not recollect any incident of importance, until I reached
the borders of Pennsylvania. I had stopped at an inn to get some
refreshment; as I was eating in a back-room, I overheard two
men in the bar-room conjecture who and what I could be. One
determined, at length, that I was a runaway apprentice, and

ought to be stopped, to which the other assented. When I had
finished my meal, and paid for it, I went out at the back door,
lest I should be stopped by my supervisors. Scorning, however,
to steal off like a culprit, I walked round to the front of the house.
One of the men advanced to the front door. He wore his hat on
one side, and had a consequential air that nettled me.

“`Where are you going, youngster?' demanded he.

“`That's none of your business!' replied I, rather pertly.

“`Yes, but it is though! You have run away from home,
and must give an account of yourself.'

“He advanced to seize me, when I drew forth a pistol. `If
you advance another step, I'll shoot you!'

“He sprang back as if he had trodden upon a rattlesnake, and
his hat fell off in the movement.

“`Let him alone!' cried his companion; `he's a foolish,
mad-headed boy, and don't know what he's about. He'll shoot
you, you may rely on it.'

“He did not need any caution in the matter; he was afraid
even to pick up his hat: so I pushed forward on my way, without
molestation. This incident, however, had its effect upon me. I
became fearful of sleeping in any house at night, lest I should be
stopped. I took my meals in the houses, in the course of the day,
but would turn aside at night, into some wood or ravine, make a
fire, and sleep before it. This I considered was true hunter's
style, and I wished to inure myself to it.

“At length I arrived at Brownsville, leg-weary and way-worn,
and in a shabby plight, as you may suppose, having been `camping
out' for some nights past. I applied at some of the inferior
inns, but could gain no admission. I was regarded for a moment

with a dubious eye, and then informed they did not receive foot-passengers.
At last I went boldly to the principal inn. The
landlord appeared as unwilling as the rest to receive a vagrant
boy beneath his roof; but his wife interfered, in the midst of his
excuses, and half elbowing him aside:

“`Where are you going, my lad?' said she.

“`To Kentucky.'

“`What are you going there for?'

“`To hunt.'

“She looked earnestly at me for a moment or two. `Have
you a mother living?' said she, at length.

“`No, madam: she has been dead for some time.'

“`I thought so!' cried she, warmly. `I knew if you had a
mother living, you would not be here.' From that moment the
good woman treated me with a mother's kindness.

I remained several days beneath her roof, recovering from
the fatigue of my journey. While here, I purchased a rifle, and
practised daily at a mark, to prepare myself for a hunter's life.
When sufficiently recruited in strength, I took leave of my kind
host and hostess, and resumed my journey.

“At Wheeling I embarked in a flat-bottomed family boat,
technically called a broad-horn, a prime river conveyance in those
days. In this ark for two weeks I floated down the Ohio. The
river was as yet in all its wild beauty. Its loftiest trees had not
been thinned out. The forest overhung the water's edge, and
was occasionally skirted by immense canebrakes. Wild animals
of all kinds abounded. We heard them rushing through the
thickets, and plashing in the water. Deer and bears would frequently
swim across the river; others would come down to the

bank, and gaze at the boat as it passed. I was incessantly on
the alert with my rifle; but somehow or other, the game was
never within shot. Sometimes I got a chance to land and try my
skill on shore. I shot squirrels, and small birds, and even wild
turkeys; but though I caught glimpses of deer bounding away
through the woods, I never could get a fair shot at them.

“In this way we glided in our broad-horn past Cincinnati,
the `Queen of the West,' as she is now called; then a mere group
of log cabins; and the site of the bustling city of Louisville, then
designated by a solitary house. As I said before, the Ohio
was as yet a wild river; all was forest, forest, forest! Near the
confluence of Green River with the Ohio, I landed, bade adieu to
the broad-horn, and struck for the interior of Kentucky. I had
no precise plan; my only idea was to make for one of the wildest
parts of the country. I had relatives in Lexington, and other
settled places, to whom I thought it probable my father would
write concerning me: so as I was full of manhood and independence,
and resolutely bent on making my way in the world without
assistance or control, I resolved to keep clear of them all.

“In the course of my first day's trudge, I shot a wild turkey,
and slung it on my back for provisions. The forest was open and
clear from underwood. I saw deer in abundance, but always running,
running. It seemed to me as if these animals never stood still.

“At length I came to where a gang of half-starved wolves
were feasting on the carcass of a deer which they had run down;
and snarling and snapping, and fighting like so many dogs. They
were all so ravenous and intent upon their prey, that they did not
notice me, and I had time to make my observations. One, larger
and fiercer than the rest, seemed to claim the larger share, and

to keep the others in awe. If any one came too near him while
eating, he would fly off, seize and shake him, and then return to
his repast. `This,' thought I, `must be the captain; if I can
kill him, I shall defeat the whole army.' I accordingly took aim,
fired, and down dropped the old fellow. He might be only shamming
dead; so I loaded and put a second ball through him. He
never budged; all the rest ran off, and my victory was complete.

“It would not be easy to describe my triumphant feelings on
this great achievement. I marched on with renovated spirit; regarding
myself as absolute lord of the forest. As night drew
near, I prepared for camping. My first care was to collect dry
wood and make a roaring fire to cook and sleep by, and to frighten
off wolves, and bears, and panthers. I then began to pluck my
turkey for supper. I had camped out several times in the early
part of my expedition; but that was in comparatively more settled
and civilized regions; where there were no wild animals of
consequence in the forest. This was my first camping out in the
real wilderness; and I was soon made sensible of the loneliness
and wildness of my situation.

“In a little while, a concert of wolves commenced: there
might have been a dozen or two, but it seemed to me as if there
were thousands. I never heard such howling and whining.
Having prepared my turkey, I divided it into two parts, thrust
two sticks into one of the halves, and planted them on end before
the fire, the hunter's mode of roasting. The smell of roast meat
quickened the appetites of the wolves, and their concert became
truly infernal. They seemed to be all around me, but I could
only now and then get a glimpse of one of them, as he came within
the glare of the light.

“I did not much care for the wolves, who I knew to be a
cowardly race, but I had heard terrible stories of panthers, and
began to fear their stealthy prowlings in the surrounding darkness.
I was thirsty, and heard a brook bubbling and tinkling
along at no great distance, but absolutely dared not go there, lest
some panther might lie in wait, and spring upon me. By and by
a deer whistled. I had never heard one before, and thought it
must be a panther. I now felt uneasy lest he might climb the
trees, crawl along the branches over head, and plump down upon
me; so I kept my eyes fixed on the branches, until my head
ached. I more than once thought I saw fiery eyes glaring down
from among the leaves. At length I thought of my supper, and
turned to see if my half turkey was cooked. In crowding so
near the fire, I had pressed the meat into the flames, and it was
consumed. I had nothing to do but toast the other half, and
take better care of it. On that half I made my supper, without
salt or bread. I was still so possessed with the dread of panthers,
that I could not close my eyes all night, but lay watching
the trees until daybreak, when all my fears were dispelled with
the darkness; and as I saw the morning sun sparkling down
through the branches of the trees, I smiled to think how I suffered
myself to be dismayed by sounds and shadows: but I was
a young woodsman, and a stranger in Kentucky.

“Having breakfasted on the remainder of my turkey, and
slaked my thirst at the bubbling stream, without farther dread
of panthers, I resumed my wayfaring with buoyant feelings. I
again saw deer, but as usual running, running! I tried in vain
to get a shot at them, and began to fear I never should. I was
gazing with vexation after a herd in full scamper, when I was

startled by a human voice. Turning round, I saw a man at a
short distance from me, in a hunting-dress.

“`What are you after, my lad?' cried he.

“`Those deer;' replied I, pettishly; `but it seems as if they
never stand still.'

“Upon that he burst out laughing. `Where are you from?'
said he.

“`From Richmond.'

“`What! In old Virginny?'

“`The same.'

“`And how on earth did you get here?'

“`I landed at Green River from a broad-horn.'

“`And where are your companions?'

“`I have none.'

“`What?—all alone!'

“`Yes.'

“`Where are you going?'

“`Any where.'

“`And what have you come here for?'

“`To hunt.'

“`Well,' said he, laughingly, `you'll make a real hunter;
there's no mistaking that!'

“`Have you killed any thing?'

“`Nothing but a turkey; I can't get within shot of a deer:
they are always running.'

“`Oh, I'll tell you the secret of that. You're always pushing
forward, and starting the deer at a distance, and gazing at
those that are scampering; but you must step as slow, and silent,
and cautious as a cat, and keep your eyes close around you, and

lurk from tree to tree, if you wish to get a chance at deer. But
come, go home with me. My name is Bill Smithers; I live not
far off: stay with me a little while, and I'll teach you how to
hunt.'

“I gladly accepted the invitation of honest Bill Smithers.
We soon reached his habitation; a mere log hut, with a square
hole for a window, and a chimney made of sticks and clay. Here
he lived, with a wife and child. He had `girdled' the trees for
an acre or two around, preparatory to clearing a space for corn
and potatoes. In the mean time he maintained his family entirely
by his rifle, and I soon found him to be a first-rate huntsman.
Under his tutelage I received my first effective lessons in `woodcraft.'

“The more I knew of a hunter's life, the more I relished it.
The country, too, which had been the promised land of my boyhood,
did not, like most promised lands, disappoint me. No
wilderness could be more beautiful than this part of Kentucky,
in those times. The forests were open and spacious, with noble
trees, some of which looked as if they had stood for centuries.
There were beautiful prairies, too, diversified with groves and
clumps of trees, which looked like vast parks, and in which you
could see the deer running, at a great distance. In the proper
season, these prairies would be covered in many places with wild
strawberries, where your horse's hoofs would be dyed to the fetlock.
I thought there could not be another place in the world
equal to Kentucky—and I think so still.

“After I had passed ten or twelve days with Bill Smithers,
I thought it time to shift my quarters, for his house was scarce
large enough for his own family, and I had no idea of being an

encumbrance to any one. I accordingly made up my bundle,
shouldered my rifle, took a friendly leave of Smithers and his
wife, and set out in quest of a Nimrod of the wilderness, one John
Miller, who lived alone, nearly forty miles off, and who I hoped
would be well pleased to have a hunting companion.

“I soon found out that one of the most important items in
woodcraft, in a new country, was the skill to find one's way in the
wilderness. There were no regular roads in the forests, but they
were cut up and perplexed by paths leading in all directions.
Some of these were made by the cattle of the settlers, and were
called `stock-tracks,' but others had been made by the immense
droves of buffaloes which roamed about the country, from the flood
until recent times. These were called buffalo-tracks, and traversed
Kentucky from end to end, like highways. Traces of them may
still be seen in uncultivated parts, or deeply worn in the rocks
where they crossed the mountains. I was a young woodsman, and
sorely puzzled to distinguish one kind of track from the other, or
to make out my course through this tangled labyrinth. While
thus perplexed, I heard a distant roaring and rushing sound; a
gloom stole over the forest: on looking up, when I could catch a
stray glimpse of the sky, I beheld the clouds rolled up like balls,
the lower part as black as ink. There was now and then an explosion,
like a burst of cannonry afar off, and the crash of a falling
tree. I had heard of hurricanes in the woods, and surmised
that one was at hand. It soon came crashing its way; the forest
writhing, and twisting, and groaning before it. The hurricane
did not extend far on either side, but in a manner ploughed a furrow
through the woodland; snapping off or uprooting trees that
had stood for centuries, and filling the air with whirling branches.

I was directly in its course, and took my stand behind an immense
poplar, six feet in diameter. It bore for a time the full fury of
the blast, but at length began to yield. Seeing it falling, I
scrambled nimbly round the trunk like a squirrel. Down it went,
bearing down another tree with it. I crept under the trunk as a
shelter, and was protected from other trees which fell around me,
but was sore all over, from the twigs and branches driven against
me by the blast.

“This was the only incident of consequence that occurred on
my way to John Miller's, where I arrived on the following day,
and was received by the veteran with the rough kindness of a back-woodsman.
He was a grayhaired man, hardy and weather-beaten,
with a blue wart, like a great bead, over one eye, whence he was
nicknamed by the hunters, `Blue-bead Miller.' He had been in
these parts from the earliest settlements, and had signalized himself
in the hard conflicts with the Indians, which gained Kentucky
the appellation of `the Bloody Ground.' In one of these fights
he had had an arm broken; in another he had narrowly escaped,
when hotly pursued, by jumping from a precipice thirty feet high
into a river.

“Miller willingly received me into his house as an inmate,
and seemed pleased with the idea of making a hunter of me. His
dwelling was a small log-house, with a loft or garret of boards, so
that there was ample room for both of us. Under his instruction,
I soon made a tolerable proficiency in hunting. My first
exploit of any consequence was killing a bear. I was hunting in
company with two brothers, when we came upon the track of
Bruin, in a wood where there was an undergrowth of canes and
grape-vines. He was scrambling up a tree, when I shot him

through the breast: he fell to the ground, and lay motionless.
The brothers sent in their dog, who seized the bear by the throat.
Bruin raised one arm, and gave the dog a hug that crushed his
ribs. One yell, and all was over. I don't know which was first
dead, the dog or the bear. The two brothers sat down and cried
like children over their unfortunate dog. Yet they were mere
rough huntsmen almost as wild and untamable as Indians: but
they were fine fellows.

“By degrees I became known, and somewhat of a favorite
among the hunters of the neighborhood; that is to say, men who
lived within a circle of thirty or forty miles, and came occasionally
to see John Miller, who was a patriarch among them. They
lived widely apart, in log-huts and wigwams, almost with the
simplicity of Indians, and well-nigh as destitute of the comforts
and inventions of civilized life. They seldom saw each other;
weeks, and even months would elapse, without their visiting. When
they did meet, it was very much after the manner of Indians;
loitering about all day, without having much to say, but becoming
communicative as evening advanced, and sitting up half the night
before the fire, telling hunting stories, and terrible tales of the
fights of the Bloody Ground.

“Sometimes several would join in a distant hunting expedition,
or rather campaign. Expeditions of this kind lasted from
November until April; during which we laid up our stock of summer
provisions. We shifted our hunting camps from place to
place, according as we found the game. They were generally
pitched near a run of water, and close by a canebrake, to screen us
from the wind. One side of our lodge was open towards the fire.
Our horses were hoppled and turned loose in the canebrakes, with

bells round their necks. One of the party staid at home to watch
the camp, prepare the meals, and keep off the wolves; the others
hunted. When a hunter killed a deer at a distance from the camp,
he would open it and take out the entrails; then climbing a sapling,
he would bend it down, tie the deer to the top, and let it
spring up again so as to suspend the carcass out of reach of the
wolves. At night he would return to the camp, and give an account
of his luck. The next morning early he would get a horse
out of the canebrake and bring home his game. That day he
would stay at home to cut up the carcass, while the others hunted.

“Our days were thus spent in silent and lonely occupations.
It was only at night that we would gather together before the
fire, and be sociable. I was a novice, and used to listen with
open eyes and ears to the strange and wild stories told by the old
hunters, and believed every thing I heard. Some of their stories
bordered upon the supernatural. They believed that their rifles
might be spellbound, so as not to be able to kill a buffalo, even
at arm's length. This superstition they had derived from the Indians,
who often think the white hunters have laid a spell upon
their rifles. Miller partook of this superstition, and used to tell
of his rifle's having a spell upon it; but it often seemed to me to
be a shuffling way of accounting for a bad shot. If a hunter
grossly missed his aim, he would ask, `Who shot last with his
rifle?'—and hint that he must have charmed it. The sure mode to
disenchant the gun was to shoot a silver bullet out of it.

“By the opening of spring we would generally have quantities
of bear's meat and venison salted, dried, and smoked, and numerous
packs of skins. We would then make the best of our way
home from our distant hunting-grounds; transporting our spoils,

sometimes in canoes along the rivers, sometimes on horseback
over land, and our return would often be celebrated by feasting
and dancing, in true backwoods style. I have given you some
idea of our hunting; let me now give you a sketch of our
frolicking.

“It was on our return from a winter's hunting in the neighborhood
of Green River, when we received notice that there was
to be a grand frolic at Bob Mosely's, to greet the hunters. This
Bob Mosely was a prime fellow throughout the country. He was
an indifferent hunter, it is true, and rather lazy, to boot; but
then he could play the fiddle, and that was enough to make him
of consequence. There was no other man within a hundred miles
that could play the fiddle, so there was no having a regular frolic
without Bob Mosely. The hunters, therefore, were always ready
to give him a share of their game in exchange for his music, and
Bob was always ready to get up a carousal, whenever there was a
party returning from a hunting expedition. The present frolic
was to take place at Bob Mosely's own house, which was on the
Pigeon-Roost Fork of the Muddy, which is a branch of Rough
Creek, which is a branch of Green River.

“Every body was agog for the revel at Bob Mosely's; and as
all the fashion of the neighborhood was to be there, I thought I
must brush up for the occasion. My leathern hunting-dress, which
was the only one I had, was somewhat the worse for wear, it is
true, and considerably japanned with blood and grease; but I was
up to hunting expedients. Getting into a periogue, I paddled
off to a part of the Green River where there was sand and clay,
that might serve for soap; then taking off my dress, I scrubbed
and scoured it, until I thought it looked very well. I then put

it on the end of a stick, and hung it out of the periogue to dry,
while I stretched myself very comfortably on the green bank of
the river. Unluckily a flaw struck the periogue, and tipped over
the stick: down went my dress to the bottom of the river, and I
never saw it more. Here was I, left almost in a state of nature.
I managed to make a kind of Robinson Crusoe garb of undressed
skins, with the hair on, which enabled me to get home with decency;
but my dream of gayety and fashion was at an end; for
how could I think of figuring in high life at the Pigeon-Roost,
equipped like a mere Orson?

“Old Miller, who really began to take some pride in me, was
confounded when he understood that I did not intend to go to
Bob Mosely's; but when I told him my misfortune, and that I
had no dress: `By the powers,' cried he, `but you shall go,
and you shall be the best dressed and the best mounted lad there!'

“He immediately set to work to cut out and make up a
hunting-shirt, of dressed deer-skin, gaily fringed at the shoulders,
and leggins of the same, fringed from hip to heel. He
then made me a rakish raccoon-cap, with a flaunting tail to it;
mounted me on his best horse; and I may say, without vanity,
that I was one of the smartest fellows that figured on that occasion,
at the Pigeon-Roost Fork of the Muddy.

“It was no small occasion, either, let me tell you. Bob
Mosely's house was a tolerably large bark shanty, with a clapboard
roof; and there were assembled all the young hunters and
pretty girls of the country, for many a mile round. The young
men were in their best hunting-dresses, but not one could compare
with mine; and my raccoon-cap, with its flowing tail, was
the admiration of every body. The girls were mostly in doeskin

dresses; for there was no spinning and weaving as yet in
the woods; nor any need of it. I never saw girls that seemed
to me better dressed; and I was somewhat of a judge, having
seen fashions at Richmond. We had a hearty dinner, and a
merry one; for there was Jemmy Kiel, famous for raccoon-hunting,
and Bob Tarleton, and Wesley Pigman, and Joe Taylor,
and several other prime fellows for a frolic, that made all ring
again, and laughed that you might have heard them a mile.

“After dinner, we began dancing, and were hard at it, when,
about three o'clock in the afternoon, there was a new arrival—
the two daughters of old Simon Schultz; two young ladies that
affected fashion and late hours. Their arrival had nearly put an
end to all our merriment. I must go a little round about in my
story, to explain to you how that happened.

“As old Schultz, the father, was one day looking in the canebrakes
for his cattle, he came upon the track of horses. He
knew they were none of his, and that none of his neighbors had
horses about that place. They must be stray horses; or must belong
to some traveller who had lost his way, as the track led nowhere.
He accordingly followed it up, until he came to an unlucky
peddler, with two or three packhorses, who had been bewildered
among the cattle-tracks, and had wandered for two or three days
among woods and canebrakes, until he was almost famished.

“Old Schultz brought him to his house; fed him on venison,
bear's meat, and hominy, and at the end of a week put him
in prime condition. The peddler could not sufficiently express
his thankfulness; and when about to depart, inquired what he
had to pay? Old Schultz stepped back, with surprise. `Stranger,'
said he, `you have been welcome under my roof. I've

given you nothing but wild meat and hominy, because I had no
better, but have been glad of your company. You are welcome
to stay as long as you please; but by Zounds! if any one offers
to pay Simon Schultz for food, he affronts him!' So saying, he
walked out in a huff.

“The peddler admired the hospitality of his host, but could
not reconcile it to his conscience to go away without making
some recompense. There were honest Simon's two daughters,
two strapping, red-haired girls. He opened his packs and displayed
riches before them of which they had no conception; for
in those days there were no country stores in those parts, with
their artificial finery and trinketry; and this was the first peddler
that had wandered into that part of the wilderness. The girls
were for a time completely dazzled, and knew not what to choose:
but what caught their eyes most, were two looking-glasses, about
the size of a dollar, set in gilt tin. They had never seen the
like before, having used no other mirror than a pail of water.
The peddler presented them these jewels, without the least hesitation:
nay, he gallantly hung them round their necks by red
ribbons, almost as fine as the glasses themselves. This done,
he took his departure, leaving them as much astonished as two
princesses in a fairy tale, that have received a magic gift from
an enchanter.

“It was with these looking-glasses, hung round their necks
as lockets, by red ribbons, that old Schultz's daughters made
their appearance at three o'clock in the afternoon, at the frolic
at Bob Mosely's, on the Pigeon-Roost Fork of the Muddy.

“By the powers, but it was an event! Such a thing had
never before been seen in Kentucky. Bob Tarleton, a strapping

fellow, with a head like a chestnut-burr, and a look like a boar in
an apple orchard, stepped up, caught hold of the looking-glass
of one of the girls, and gazing at it for a moment, cried out:
`Joe Taylor, come here! come here! I'll be darn'd if Patty
Schultz aint got a locket that you can see your face in, as clear
as in a spring of water!'

“In a twinkling all the young hunters gathered round old
Schultz's daughters. I, who knew what looking-glasses were,
did not budge. Some of the girls who sat near me were excessively
mortified at finding themselves thus deserted. I heard
Peggy Pugh say to Sally Pigman, `Goodness knows, it's well
Schultz's daughters is got them things round their necks, for
it's the first time the young men crowded round them!'

“I saw immediately the danger of the case. We were a
small community, and could not afford to be split up by feuds.
So I stepped up to the girls, and whispered to them: `Polly,'
said I, `those lockets are powerful fine, and become you amazingly;
but you don't consider that the country is not advanced
enough in these parts for such things. You and I understand
these matters, but these people don't. Fine things like these
may do very well in the old settlements, but they won't answer
at the Pigeon-Roost Fork of the Muddy. You had better lay
them aside for the present, or we shall have no peace.'

“Polly and her sister luckily saw their error; they took off
the lockets, laid them aside, and harmony was restored: otherwise,
I verily believe there would have been an end of our community.
Indeed, notwithstanding the great sacrifice they made
on this occasion, I do not think old Schultz's daughters were ever
much liked afterwards among the young women.

“This was the first time that looking-glasses were ever seen
in the Green River part of Kentucky.

“I had now lived some time with old Miller, and had become
a tolerably expert hunter. Game, however, began to grow scarce.
The buffalo had gathered together, as if by universal understanding,
and had crossed the Mississippi never to return. Strangers
kept pouring into the country, clearing away the forests, and
building in all directions. The hunters began to grow restive.
Jemmy Kiel, the same of whom I have already spoken, for his
skill in raccoon catching, came to me one day: `I can't stand
this any longer,' said he; `we're getting too thick here. Simon
Schultz crowds me so, that I have no comfort of my life.'

“`Why, how you talk!' said I; `Simon Schultz lives twelve
miles off.'

“`No matter; his cattle run with mine, and I've no idea of
living where another man's cattle can run with mine. That's too
close neighborhood; I want elbow-room. This country, too, is
growing too poor to live in; there's no game: so two or three of
us have made up our minds to follow the buffalo to the Missouri,
and we should like to have you of the party.' Other hunters of
my acquaintance talked in the same manner. This set me thinking:
but the more I thought, the more I was perplexed. I had
no one to advise with: old Miller and his associates knew of but
one mode of life, and I had no experience in any other: but I had
a wider scope of thought. When out hunting alone, I used to
forget the sport, and sit for hours together on the trunk of a tree,
with rifle in hand, buried in thought, and debating with myself:
`Shall I go with Jemmy Kiel and his company, or shall I remain
here? If I remain here, there will soon be nothing left to hunt.

But am I to be a hunter all my life? Have not I something
more in me, than to be carrying a rifle on my shoulder, day after
day, and dodging about after bears, and deer, and other brute
beasts?' My vanity told me I had; and I called to mind my
boyish boast to my sister, that I would never return home, until
I returned a member of Congress from Kentucky; but was this
the way to fit myself for such a station?

“Various plans passed through my mind, but they were abandoned
almost as soon as formed. At length I determined on becoming
a lawyer. True it is, I knew almost nothing. I had left
school before I had learnt beyond the `rule of three.' `Never
mind,' said I to myself, resolutely; `I am a terrible fellow for
hanging on to any thing, when I've once made up my mind; and
if a man has but ordinary capacity, and will set to work with
heart and soul, and stick to it, he can do almost any thing.' With
this maxim, which has been pretty much my main stay throughout
life, I fortified myself in my determination to attempt the
law. But how was I to set about it? I must quit this forest
life, and go to one or other of the towns, where I might be able
to study, and to attend the courts. This too required funds. I
examined into the state of my finances. The purse given me by
my father had remained untouched, in the bottom of an old chest
up in the loft, for money was scarcely needed in these parts. I
had bargained away the skins acquired in hunting, for a horse and
various other matters, on which, in case of need, I could raise
funds. I therefore thought I could make shift to maintain myself
until I was fitted for the bar.

“I informed my worthy host and patron, old Miller, of my
plan. He shook his head at my turning my back upon the

woods, when I was in a fair way of making a first-rate hunter;
but he made no effort to dissuade me. I accordingly set off in
September, on horseback, intending to visit Lexington, Frankfort,
and other of the principal towns, in search of a favorable
place to prosecute my studies. My choice was made sooner than
I expected. I had put up one night at Bardstown, and found,
on inquiry that I could get comfortable board and accommodation
in a private family for a dollar and a half a week. I liked
the place, and resolved to look no farther. So the next morning
I prepared to turn my face homeward, and take my final
leave of forest life.

“I had taken my breakfast, and was waiting for my horse,
when, in pacing up and down the piazza, I saw a young girl
seated near a window, evidently a visitor. She was very pretty;
with auburn hair, and blue eyes, and was dressed in white. I
had seen nothing of the kind since I had left Richmond; and at
that time I was too much of a boy to be much struck by female
charms. She was so delicate and dainty-looking, so different
from the hale, buxom, brown girls of the woods; and then her
white dress!—it was perfectly dazzling! Never was poor youth
more taken by surprise, and suddenly bewitched. My heart
yearned to know her; but how was I to accost her? I had
grown wild in the woods, and had none of the habitudes of polite
life. Had she been like Peggy Pugh, or Sally Pigman, or any
other of my leathern-dressed belles of the Pigeon-Roost, I should
have approached her without dread; nay, had she been as fair
as Schultz's daughters, with their looking-glass lockets, I should
not have hesitated: but that white dress, and those auburn ringlets,
and blue eyes, and delicate looks, quite daunted, while they

fascinated me. I don't know what put it into my head, but I
thought, all at once, that I would kiss her! It would take a
long acquaintance to arrive at such a boon, but I might seize
upon it by sheer robbery. Nobody knew me here. I would
just step in, snatch a kiss, mount my horse, and ride off. She
would not be the worse for it; and that kiss—oh! I should die
if I did not get it!

“I gave no time for the thought to cool, but entered the
house, and stepped lightly into the room. She was seated with
her back to the door, looking out at the window, and did not
hear my approach. I tapped her chair, and as she turned and
looked up, I snatched as sweet a kiss as ever was stolen, and
vanished in a twinkling. The next moment I was on horseback,
galloping homeward; my very ears tingling at what I had done.

“On my return home, I sold my horse, and turned every
thing to cash, and found, with the remains of the paternal
purse, that I had nearly four hundred dollars; a little capital,
which I resolved to manage with the strictest economy.

“It was hard parting with old Miller, who had been like a
father to me: it cost me, too, something of a struggle to give up
the free, independent wild-wood life I had hitherto led; but I
had marked out my course, and have never been one to flinch or
turn back.

“I footed it sturdily to Bardstown; took possession of the
quarters for which I had bargained, shut myself up, and set to
work with might and main, to study. But what a task I had
before me! I had every thing to learn; not merely law, but all
the elementary branches of knowledge. I read and read, for
sixteen hours out of the four-and-twenty; but the more I read,

the more I became aware of my own ignorance, and shed bitter
tears over my deficiency. It seemed as if the wilderness of knowledge
expanded and grew more perplexed as I advanced. Every
height gained, only revealed a wider region to be traversed, and
nearly filled me with despair. I grew moody, silent, and unsocial,
but studied on doggedly and incessantly. The only person
with whom I held any conversation, was the worthy man in
whose house I was quartered. He was honest and well-meaning,
but perfectly ignorant, and I believe would have liked me much
better, if I had not been so much addicted to reading. He considered
all books filled with lies and impositions, and seldom
could look into one, without finding something to rouse his
spleen. Nothing put him into a greater passion, than the assertion
that the world turned on its own axis every four-and-twenty
hours. He swore it was an outrage upon common sense. `Why,
if it did,' said he, `there would not be a drop of water in the
well, by morning, and all the milk and cream in the dairy would
be turned topsy-turvy!' And then to talk of the earth going
round the sun! `How do they know it? I've seen the sun
rise every morning, and set every evening for more than thirty
years. They must not talk to me about the earth's going round
the sun!'

“At another time he was in a perfect fret at being told the
distance between the sun and moon. `How can any one tell the
distance?' cried he. `Who surveyed it? who carried the chain?
By Jupiter! they only talk this way before me to annoy me.
But then there's some people of sense who give in to this cursed
humbug! There's Judge Broadnax, now, one of the best lawyers
we have; isn't it surprising he should believe in such stuff?

Why, sir, the other day I heard him talk of the distance from a
star he called Mars to the sun! He must have got it out of one
or other of those confounded books he's so fond of reading; a
book some impudent fellow has written, who knew nobody could
swear the distance was more or less.'

“For my own part, feeling my own deficiency in scientific
lore, I never ventured to unsettle his conviction that the sun
made his daily circuit round the earth; and for aught I said to
the contrary, he lived and died in that belief.

“I had been about a year at Bardstown, living thus studiously
and reclusely, when, as I was one day walking the street,
I met two young girls, in one of whom I immediately recalled
the little beauty whom I had kissed so impudently. She blushed
up to the eyes, and so did I; but we both passed on without farther
sign of recognition. This second glimpse of her, however,
caused an odd fluttering about my heart. I could not get her
out of my thoughts for days. She quite interfered with my
studies. I tried to think of her as a mere child, but it would
not do: she had improved in beauty, and was tending toward
womanhood; and then I myself was but little better than a
stripling. However, I did not attempt to seek after her, or even
to find out who she was, but returned doggedly to my books.
By degrees she faded from my thoughts, or if she did cross them
occasionally, it was only to increase my despondency; for I
feared that with all my exertions, I should never be able to fit
myself for the bar, or enable myself to support a wife.

“One cold stormy evening I was seated, in dumpish mood,
in the bar-room of the inn, looking into the fire, and turning
over uncomfortable thoughts, when I was accosted by some one

who had entered the room without my perceiving it. I looked
up, and saw before me a tall and, as I thought, pompous-looking
man, arrayed in small-clothes and knee-buckles, with powdered
head, and shoes nicely blacked and polished; a style of dress
unparalleled in those days, in that rough country. I took a
pique against him from the very portliness of his appearance, and
stateliness of his manner, and bristled up as he accosted me.
He demanded if my name was not Ringwood.

“I was startled, for I supposed myself perfectly incog.; but
I answered in the affirmative.

“`Your family, I believe, lives in Richmond.'

“My gorge began to rise. `Yes, sir,' replied I, sulkily,
`my family does live in Richmond.'

“`And what, may I ask, has brought you into this part of
the country?'

“`Zounds, sir!' cried I, starting on my feet, `what business
is it of yours? How dare you to question me in this manner?'

“The entrance of some persons prevented a reply; but I
walked up and down the bar-room, fuming with conscious independence
and insulted dignity, while the pompous-looking personage,
who had thus trespassed upon my spleen, retired without
proffering another word.

“The next day, while seated in my room, some one tapped
at the door, and, on being bid to enter, the stranger in the powdered
head, small-clothes, and shining shoes and buckles, walked
in with ceremonious courtesy.

“My boyish pride was again in arms; but he subdued me.
He was formal, but kind and friendly. He knew my family,
and understood my situation, and the dogged struggle I was

making. A little conversation, when my jealous pride was once
put to rest, drew every thing from me. He was a lawyer of experience,
and of extensive practice, and offered at once to take
me with him, and direct my studies. The offer was too advantageous
and gratifying not to be immediately accepted. From
that time I began to look up. I was put into a proper track,
and was enabled to study to a proper purpose. I made acquaintance,
too, with some of the young men of the place, who
were in the same pursuit, and was encouraged at finding that I
could `hold my own' in argument with them. We instituted a
debating club, in which I soon became prominent and popular.
Men of talents, engaged in other pursuits, joined it, and this
diversified our subjects, and put me on various tracks of inquiry.
Ladies, too, attended some of our discussions, and this gave
them a polite tone, and had an influence on the manners of the
debaters. My legal patron also may have had a favorable effect
in correcting any roughness contracted in my hunter's life. He
was calculated to bend me in an opposite direction, for he was of
the old school; quoted Chesterfield on all occasions, and talked
of Sir Charles Grandison, who was his beau-ideal. It was Sir
Charles Grandison, however, Kentuckyized.

“I had always been fond of female society. My experience,
however, had hitherto been among the rough daughters of the backwoodsmen;
and I felt an awe of young ladies in `store clothes,'
and delicately brought up. Two or three of the married ladies
of Bardstown, who had heard me at the debating club, determined
that I was a genius, and undertook to bring me out.
I believe I really improved under their hands; became quiet where
I had been shy or sulky, and easy where I had been impudent.

“I called to take tea one evening with one of these ladies,
when to my surprise, and somewhat to my confusion, I found
with her the identical blue-eyed little beauty whom I had so
audaciously kissed. I was formally introduced to her, but
neither of us betrayed any sign of previous acquaintance, except
by blushing to the eyes. While tea was getting ready, the lady
of the house went out of the room to give some directions, and
left us alone.

“Heavens and earth, what a situation! I would have given
all the pittance I was worth, to have been in the deepest dell of
the forest. I felt the necessity of saying something in excuse
of my former rudeness, but I could not conjure up an idea, nor
utter a word. Every moment matters were growing worse I
felt at one time tempted to do as I had done when I robbed her
of the kiss: bolt from the room, and take to flight; but I was
chained to the spot, for I really longed to gain her good will.

“At length I plucked up courage, on seeing that she was
equally confused with myself, and walking desperately up to her,
I exclaimed:

“`I have been trying to muster up something to say to you,
but I cannot. I feel that I am in a horrible scrape. Do have
pity on me, and help me out of it!'

“A smile dimpled about her mouth, and played among the
blushes of her cheek. She looked up with a shy but arch glance
of the eye, that expressed a volume of comic recollection; we
both broke into a laugh, and from that moment all went on well.

“A few evenings afterward, I met her at a dance, and prosecuted
the acquaintance. I soon became deeply attached to her;
paid my court regularly; and before I was nineteen years of

age, had engaged myself to marry her. I spoke to her mother,
a widow lady, to ask her consent. She seemed to demur; upon
which, with my customary haste, I told her there would be no
use in opposing the match, for if her daughter chose to have me,
I would take her, in defiance of her family, and the whole world.

“She laughed, and told me I need not give myself any uneasiness;
there would be no unreasonable opposition. She knew
my family, and all about me. The only obstacle was, that I had
no means of supporting a wife, and she had nothing to give with
her daughter.

“No matter; at that moment every thing was bright before
me. I was in one of my sanguine moods. I feared nothing,
doubted nothing. So it was agreed that I should prosecute my
studies, obtain a license, and as soon as I should be fairly
launched in business, we would be married.

“I now prosecuted my studies with redoubled ardor, and was
up to my ears in law, when I received a letter from my father,
who had heard of me and my whereabouts. He applauded the
course I had taken, but advised me to lay a foundation of general
knowledge, and offered to defray my expenses, if I would go to
college. I felt the want of a general education, and was staggered
with this offer. It militated somewhat against the self-dependent
course I had so proudly, or rather conceitedly, marked out for
myself, but it would enable me to enter more advantageously upon
my legal career. I talked over the matter with the lovely girl to
whom I was engaged. She sided in opinion with my father, and
talked so disinterestedly, yet tenderly, that if possible, I loved her
more than ever. I reluctantly, therefore, agreed to go to college
for a couple of years, though it must necessarily postpone our union.

“Scarcely had I formed this resolution, when her mother was
taken ill, and died, leaving her without a protector. This again
altered all my plans. I felt as if I could protect her. I gave up
all idea of collegiate studies; persuaded myself that by dint of
industry and application I might overcome the deficiencies of
education, and resolved to take out a license as soon as possible.

“That very autumn I was admitted to the bar, and within a
month afterward, was married. We were a young couple; she
not much above sixteen, I not quite twenty; and both almost without
a dollar in the world. The establishment which we set up was
suited to our circumstances: a log-house, with two small rooms;
a bed, a table, a half dozen chairs, a half dozen knives and forks,
a half dozen spoons; every thing by half dozens; a little delft
ware; every thing in a small way: we were so poor, but then so
happy!

“We had not been married many days, when court was held
at a county town, about twenty-five miles distant. It was necessary
for me to go there, and put myself in the way of business:
but how was I to go? I had expended all my means on our
establishment; and then, it was hard parting with my wife so
soon after marriage. However, go I must. Money must be made,
or we should soon have the wolf at the door. I accordingly borrowed
a horse, and borrowed a little cash, and rode off from my
door, leaving my wife standing at it, and waving her hand after
me. Her last look, so sweet and beaming, went to my heart. I
felt as if I could go through fire and water for her.

“I arrived at the county town, on a cool October evening.
The inn was crowded, for the court was to commence on the following
day. I knew no one, and wondered how I, a stranger, and

a mere youngster, was to make my way in such a crowd, and to
get business. The public room was thronged with the idlers of
the country, who gather together on such occasions. There was
some drinking going forward, with much noise, and a little altercation.
Just as I entered the room, I saw a rough bully of a fellow,
who was partly intoxicated, strike an old man. He came
swaggering by me, and elbowed me as he passed. I immediately
knocked him down, and kicked him into the street. I needed no
better introduction. In a moment I had a dozen rough shakes
of the hand, and invitations to drink, and found myself quite a
personage in this rough assembly.

“The next morning the court opened. I took my seat among
the lawyers, but felt as a mere spectator, not having a suit in progress
or prospect, nor having any idea where business was to come
from. In the course of the morning, a man was put at the bar
charged with passing counterfeit money, and was asked if he was
ready for trial. He answered in the negative. He had been
confined in a place where there were no lawyers, and had not had
an opportunity of consulting any. He was told to choose counsel
from the lawyers present, and to be ready for trial on the following
day. He looked round the court, and selected me. I was
thunderstruck. I could not tell why he should make such a
choice. I, a beardless youngster; unpractised at the bar; perfectly
unknown. I felt diffident yet delighted, and could have
hugged the rascal.

“Before leaving the court, he gave me one hundred dollars
in a bag, as a retaining fee. I could scarcely believe my senses;
it seemed like a dream. The heaviness of the fee spoke but
lightly in favor of his innocence, but that was no affair of mine.

I was to be advocate, not judge, nor jury. I followed him to
jail, and learned from him all the particulars of his case:
thence I went to the clerk's office, and took minutes of the indictment.
I then examined the law on the subject, and prepared
my brief in my room. All this occupied me until mid-night,
when I went to bed, and tried to sleep. It was all in
vain. Never in my life was I more wide awake. A host of
thoughts and fancies kept rushing through my mind: the shower
of gold that had so unexpectedly fallen into my lap; the idea
of my poor little wife at home, that I was to astonish with my
good fortune! But then the awful responsibility I had undertaken!—to
speak for the first time in a strange court; the expectations
the culprit had evidently formed of my talents; all
these, and a crowd of similar notions, kept whirling through my
mind. I tossed about all night, fearing the morning would find
me exhausted and incompetent; in a word, the day dawned on
me, a miserable fellow!

“I got up feverish and nervous. I walked out before breakfast,
striving to collect my thoughts, and tranquillize my feelings.
It was a bright morning; the air was pure and frosty. I bathed
my forehead and my hands in a beautiful running stream; but I
could not allay the fever heat that raged within. I returned to
breakfast, but could not eat. A single cup of coffee formed my
repast. It was time to go to court, and I went there with a
throbbing heart. I believe if it had not been for the thoughts
of my little wife, in her lonely log-house, I should have given
back to the man his hundred dollars, and relinquished the cause.
I took my seat, looking, I am convinced, more like a culprit
than the rogue I was to defend.

“When the time came for me to speak, my heart died within
me. I rose embarrassed and dismayed, and stammered in opening
my cause. I went on from bad to worse, and felt as if I was
going down hill. Just then the public prosecutor, a man of talents,
but somewhat rough in his practice, made a sarcastic remark
on something I had said. It was like an electric spark,
and ran tingling through every vein in my body. In an instant
my diffidence was gone. My whole spirit was in arms. I answered
with promptness and bitterness, for I felt the cruelty of
such an attack upon a novice in my situation. The public prosecutor
made a kind of apology; this, from a man of his redoubted
powers, was a vast concession. I renewed my argument with a
fearless glow; carried the case through triumphantly, and the
man was acquitted.

“This was the making of me. Every body was curious to
know who this new lawyer was, that had thus suddenly risen among
them, and bearded the attorney-general at the very outset. The
story of my début at the inn, on the preceding evening, when I
had knocked down a bully, and kicked him out of doors, for
striking an old man, was circulated, with favorable exaggerations.
Even my very beardless chin and juvenile countenance were in my
favor, for people gave me far more credit than I really deserved.
The chance business which occurs in our country courts came
thronging upon me. I was repeatedly employed in other causes;
and by Saturday night, when the court closed, and I had paid my
bill at the inn, I found myself with a hundred and fifty dollars
in silver, three hundred dollars in notes, and a horse that I afterward
sold for two hundred dollars more.

“Never did miser gloat on his money with more delight. I

locked the door of my room; piled the money in a heap upon the
table; walked round it; sat with my elbows on the table, and my
chin upon my hands, and gazed upon it. Was I thinking of the
money? No! I was thinking of my little wife at home.
Another sleepless night ensued; but what a night of golden fancies,
and splendid air castles! As soon as morning dawned, I
was up, mounted the borrowed horse with which I had come to
court, and led the other, which I had received as a fee. All the
way I was delighting myself with the thoughts of the surprise I
had in store for my little wife; for both of us had expected
nothing but that I should spend all the money I had borrowed,
and should return in debt.

“Our meeting was joyous, as you may suppose: but I played
the part of the Indian hunter, who, when he returns from the
chase, never for a time speaks of his success. She had prepared
a snug little rustic meal for me, and while it was getting ready, I
seated myself at an old-fashioned desk in one corner, and began
to count over my money, and put it away. She came to me
before I had finished, and asked who I had collected the money
for.

“`For myself, to be sure,' replied I, with affected coolness;
`I made it at court.'

“She looked me for a moment in the face, incredulously.
I tried to keep my countenance, and to play Indian, but it would
not do. My muscles began to twitch; my feelings all at once
gave way. I caught her in my arms; laughed, cried, and danced
about the room, like a crazy man. From that time forward, we
never wanted for money.

“I had not been long in successful practice, when I was surprised

one day by a visit from my woodland patron, old Miller.
The tidings of my prosperity had reached him in the wilderness,
and he had walked one hundred and fifty miles on foot to see me.
By that time I had improved my domestic establishment, and had
all things comfortable about me. He looked around him with a
wondering eye, at what he considered luxuries and superfluities;
but supposed they were all right, in my altered circumstances.
He said he did not know, upon the whole, but that I had acted
for the best. It is true, if game had continued plenty, it would
have been a folly for me to quit a hunter's life; but hunting was
pretty nigh done up in Kentucky. The buffalo had gone to Missouri;
the elk were nearly gone also; deer, too, were growing
scarce; they might last out his time, as he was growing old, but
they were not worth setting up life upon. He had once lived on
the borders of Virginia. Game grew scarce there; he followed
it up across Kentucky, and now it was again giving him the slip;
but he was too old to follow it farther.

“He remained with us three days. My wife did every thing
in her power to make him comfortable; but at the end of that
time, he said he must be off again to the woods. He was tired
of the village, and of having so many people about him. He accordingly
returned to the wilderness, and to hunting life. But I
fear he did not make a good end of it; for I understand that a
few years before his death, he married Sukey Thomas, who lived
at the White Oak Run.”