AMERICAN PIONEERS AND PATRIOTS. 

DAVID CROCKETT:

HIS

LIFE AND ADVENTURES

BY

JOHN S. C. ABBOTT

ILLUSTRATED. 

PREFACE. 

David Crockett certainly was not a model man. But he was arepresentative man. He was conspicuously one of a very numerous class, still existing, and which has heretofore exerted a very powerfulinfluence over this republic. As such, his wild and wondrous life isworthy of the study of every patriot. Of this class, their modes oflife and habits of thought, the majority of our citizens know as littleas they do of the manners and customs of the Comanche Indians. 

No man can make his name known to the forty millions of this great andbusy republic who has not something very remarkable in his character orhis career. But there is probably not an adult American, in all thesewidespread States, who has not heard of David Crockett. His life is averitable romance, with the additional charm of unquestionable truth. It opens to the reader scenes in the lives of the lowly, and a state ofsemi-civilization, of which but few of them can have the faintest idea. 

It has not been my object, in this narrative, to defend ColonelCrockett or to condemn him, but to present his peculiar characterexactly as it was. I have therefore been constrained to insert somethings which I would gladly have omitted. 

JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. 

FAIR HAVEN, CONN. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. 

Parentage and Childhood. 

The Emigrant. --Crossing the Alleghanies. --The BoundlessWilderness. --The Hut on the Holston. --Life's Necessaries. --TheMassacre. --Birth of David Crockett. --Peril of theBoys. --Anecdote. --Removal to Greenville; to Cove Creek. --IncreasedEmigration. --Loss of the Mill. --The Tavern. --Engagement with theDrover. --Adventures in the Wilderness. --Virtual Captivity. --TheEscape. --The Return. --The Runaway. --New Adventures. . . . 7

CHAPTER II. 

Youthful Adventures. 

David at Gerardstown. --Trip to Baltimore. --Anecdotes. --He ships forLondon. --Disappointment. --Defrauded of his Wages. --Escapes. --NewAdventures. --Crossing the River. --Returns Home. --His Reception. --A FarmLaborer. --Generosity to his Father. --Love Adventure. --The Wreck of hisHopes. --His School Education. --Second Love adventure. --BitterDisappointment. --Life in the Backwoods. --Third Love Adventure. . . . 35

CHAPTER III. 

Marriage and Settlement. 

Rustic Courtship. --The Rival Lover. --Romantic Incident. The Purchase ofa Horse. --The Wedding. --Singular Ceremonies. --The Termagant. --BridalDays. --They commence Housekeeping. --The Bridal mansion andOutfit. --Family Possessions. --The Removal to Central Tennessee. --Modeof Transportation. --The New Income and its Surroundings. --BusyIdleness. --The Third Move. --The Massacre at Fort Mimms. . . . 54

CHAPTER IV. 

The Soldier Life. 

War with the Creeks. --Patriotism of Crockett. --Remonstrances of hisWife. --Enlistment. --The Rendezvous. --Adventure of the Scouts. --FriendlyIndians, --A March through the Forest. --Picturesque Scene. --The MidnightAlarm. --March by Moonlight. --Chagrin of Crockett. --Advance intoAlabama. --War's Desolations. --Indian Stoicism. --Anecdotes of AndrewJackson. --Battles, Carnage, and Woe. . . . 93

CHAPTER V. 

Indian Warfare. 

The Army at Fort Strother. --Crockett's Regiment. --Crockett atHome. --His Reenlistment. --Jackson Surprised. --Military Ability of theIndians. --Humiliation of the Creeks. --March to Florida. --Affairs atPensacola. --Capture of the City. --Characteristics of Crockett. --TheWeary March, --Inglorious Expedition. --Murder of TwoIndians. --Adventures at the Island. --The Continued March. --SevereSufferings. --Charge upon the Uninhabited Village. . . . 124

CHAPTER VI. 

The Camp and the Cabin. 

Deplorable Condition of the Army. --Its wanderings. --Crockett'sBenevolence. --Cruel Treatment of the Indians. --A Gleam of GoodLuck. --The Joyful Feast. --Crockett's Trade with the Indian. --Visit tothe Old Battlefield. --Bold Adventure of Crockett. --His ArrivalHome. --Death of his Wife. --Second Marriage. --Restlessness. --ExploringTour. --Wild Adventures. --Dangerous Sickness. --Removal to the West. --HisNew Home. . . . 155

CHAPTER VII. 

The Justice of Peace and the Legislator. 

Vagabondage. --Measures of Protection. --Measures ofGovernment. --Crockett's Confession. --A Candidate for MilitaryHonors. --Curious Display of Moral Courage. --The Squirrel Hunt. --ACandidate for the Legislature. --CharacteristicElectioneering. --Specimens of his Eloquence. --Great PecuniaryCalamity. --Expedition to the Far West. --Wild Adventures. --The MidnightCarouse. --A Cabin Reared. . . . 183

CHAPTER VIII. 

Life on the Obion. 

Hunting Adventures. --The Voyage up the River. --Scenes in theCabin. --Return Home. --Removal of the Family. --Crockett's Riches. --APerilous Enterprise. --Reasons for his Celebrity. --Crockett'sNarrative. --A Bear-Hunt. --Visit to Jackson. --Again a Candidate for theLegislature. --Electioneering and Election. . . . 212

CHAPTER IX. 

Adventures in the Forest, on the River, and in the City

The Bear Hunter's Story. --Service in the Legislature. --Candidate forCongress. --Electioneering. --The New Speculation. --DisastrousVoyage. --Narrow Escape. --New Electioneering Exploits. --OddSpeeches. --The Visit to Crockett's Cabin. --His Political Views. --HisHonesty. --Opposition to Jackson. --Scene at Raleigh. --Dines with thePresident. --Gross Caricature. --His Annoyance. . . . 240

CHAPTER X. 

Crockett's Tour to the North and the East. 

His Reelection to Congress. --The Northern Tour. --First Sight of aRailroad. --Reception in Philadelphia. --His First Speech. --Arrival inNew York. --The Ovation there. --Visit to Boston. --Cambridge andLowell. --Specimens of his Speeches. --Expansion of his Ideas. --RapidImprovement. . . . 267

CHAPTER XI. 

The Disappointed Politician. --Off for Texas. 

Triumphal Return. --Home Charms Vanish. --Loses His Election. --BitterDisappointment. --Crockett's Poetry. --Sets out for Texas. --Incidents ofthe Journey. --Reception at Little Rock. --The Shooting Match. --Meeting aClergyman. --The Juggler. --Crockett a Reformer. --The Bee Hunter. --TheRough Strangers. --Scene on the Prairie. . . . 290

CHAPTER XII. 

Adventures on the Prairie. 

Disappearance of the Bee Hunter. --The Herd of Buffalo Crockettlost. --The Fight with the Cougar. --Approach of Savages. --TheirFriendliness. --Picnic on the Prairie. --Picturesque Scene. --The LostMustang recovered. --Unexpected Reunion. --Departure of theSavages. --Skirmish with the Mexicans. --Arrival at the Alamo. . . . 312

CHAPTER XIII. 

Conclusion. 

The Fortress of Alamo. --Colonel Bowie. --Bombardment of theFort. --Crockett's Journal. --Sharpshooting. --Fight outside of theFort. --Death of the Bee Hunter. --Kate of Nacogdoches. --Assault on theCitadel. --Crockett a Prisoner. --His Death. . . . 340

DAVID CROCKETT. 

CHAPTER I. 

Parentage and Childhood. 

The Emigrant. --Crossing the Alleghanies. --The boundlessWilderness. --The Hut on the Holston. --Life's Necessaries. --TheMassacre. --Birth of David Crockett. --Peril of theBoys. --Anecdote. --Removal to Greenville; to Cove Creek. --IncreasedEmigration. --Loss of the Mill. --The Tavern. --Engagement with theDrover. --Adventures in the Wilderness. --Virtual Captivity. --TheEscape. --The Return. --The Runaway. --New Adventures. 

A little more than a hundred years ago, a poor man, by the name ofCrockett, embarked on board an emigrant-ship, in Ireland, for the NewWorld. He was in the humblest station in life. But very little is knownrespecting his uneventful career excepting its tragical close. Hisfamily consisted of a wife and three or four children. Just before hesailed, or on the Atlantic passage, a son was born, to whom he gave thename of John. The family probably landed in Philadelphia, and dweltsomewhere in Pennsylvania, for a year or two, in one of those slabshanties, with which all are familiar as the abodes of the poorestclass of Irish emigrants. 

After a year or two, Crockett, with his little family, crossed thealmost pathless Alleghanies. Father, mother, and children trudged alongthrough the rugged defiles and over the rocky cliffs, on foot. Probablya single pack-horse conveyed their few household goods. The hatchet andthe rifle were the only means of obtaining food, shelter, and evenclothing. With the hatchet, in an hour or two, a comfortable camp couldbe constructed, which would protect them from wind and rain. Thecamp-fire, cheering the darkness of the night, drying their often wetgarments, and warming their chilled limbs with its genial glow, enabledthem to enjoy that almost greatest of earthly luxuries, peaceful sleep. 

The rifle supplied them with food. The fattest of turkeys and the mosttender steaks of venison, roasted upon forked sticks, which they heldin their hands over the coals, feasted their voracious appetites. This, to them, was almost sumptuous food. The skin of the deer, by a rapidand simple process of tanning, supplied them with moccasons, andafforded material for the repair of their tattered garments. 

We can scarcely comprehend the motive which led this solitary family topush on, league after league, farther and farther from civilization, through the trackless forests. At length they reached the HolstonRiver. This stream takes its rise among the western ravines of theAlleghanies, in Southwestern Virginia. Flowing hundreds of milesthrough one of the most solitary and romantic regions upon the globe, it finally unites with the Clinch River, thus forming the majesticTennessee. 

One hundred years ago, this whole region, west of the Alleghanies, wasan unexplored and an unknown wilderness. Its silent rivers, itsforests, and its prairies were crowded with game. Countless Indiantribes, whose names even had never been heard east of the Alleghanies, ranged this vast expanse, pursuing, in the chase, wild beasts scarcelymore savage than themselves. 

The origin of these Indian tribes and their past history are lost inoblivion. Centuries have come and gone, during which joys and griefs, of which we now can know nothing, visited their humble lodges. Providence seems to have raised up a peculiar class of men, among thedescendants of the emigrants from the Old World, who, weary of therestraints of civilization, were ever ready to plunge into the wildestdepths of the wilderness, and to rear their lonely huts in the midst ofall its perils, privations, and hardships. 

This solitary family of the Crocketts followed down the northwesternbanks of the Hawkins River for many a weary mile, until they came to aspot which struck their fancy as a suitable place to build their Cabin. In subsequent years a small village called Rogersville was graduallyreared upon this spot, and the territory immediately around wasorganized into what is now known as Hawkins County. But then, forleagues in every direction, the solemn forest stood in all itsgrandeur. Here Mr. Crockett, alone and unaided save by his wife andchildren, constructed a little shanty, which could have been but littlemore than a hunter's camp. He could not lift solid logs to build asubstantial house. The hard-trodden ground was the only floor of thesingle room which he enclosed. It was roofed with bark of trees piledheavily on, which afforded quite effectual protection from the rain. Ahole cut through the slender logs was the only window. A fire was builtin one corner, and the smoke eddied through a hole left in the roof. The skins of bears, buffaloes, and wolves provided couches, allsufficient for weary ones, who needed no artificial opiate to promotesleep. Such, in general, were the primitive homes of many of those boldemigrants who abandoned the comforts of civilized life for thesolitudes of the wilderness. 

They did not want for most of what are called the necessaries of life. The river and the forest furnished a great variety of fish and game. Their hut, humble as it was, effectually protected them from thedeluging tempest and the inclement cold. The climate was genial in avery high degree, and the soil, in its wonderful fertility, abundantlysupplied them with corn and other simple vegetables. But the silenceand solitude which reigned are represented, by those who experiencedthem, as at times something dreadful. 

One principal motive which led these people to cross the mountains, wasthe prospect of an ultimate fortune in the rise of land. Every man whobuilt a cabin and raised a crop of grain, however small, was entitledto four hundred acres of land, and a preemption right to one thousandmore adjoining, to be secured by a land-office warrant. 

In this lonely home, Mr. Crockett, with his wife and children, dweltfor some months, perhaps years--we know not how long. One night, theawful yell of the savage was heard, and a band of human demons camerushing upon the defenceless family. Imagination cannot paint thetragedy which ensued. Though this lost world, ever since the fall ofAdam, has been filled to repletion with these scenes of woe, it causesone's blood to curdle in his veins as he contemplates this one deed ofcruelty and blood. 

The howling fiends were expeditious in their work. The father andmother were pierced by arrows, mangled with the tomahawk, and scalped. One son, severely wounded, escaped into the forest. Another little boy, who was deaf and dumb, was taken captive and carried by the Indians totheir distant tribe, where he remained, adopted into the tribe, forabout eighteen years. He was then discovered by some of his relatives, and was purchased back at a considerable ransom. The torch was appliedto the cabin, and the bodies of the dead were consumed in the cracklingflames. 

What became of the remainder of the children, if there were any otherspresent in this midnight scene of conflagration and blood, we know not. There was no reporter to give us the details. We simply know that insome way John Crockett, who subsequently became the father of thatDavid whose history we now write, was not involved in the generalmassacre. It is probable that he was not then with the family, but thathe was a hired boy of all work in some farmer's family in Pennsylvania. 

As a day-laborer he grew up to manhood, and married a woman in his ownsphere of life, by the name of Mary Hawkins. He enlisted as a commonsoldier in the Revolutionary War, and took part in the battle of King'sMountain. At the close of the war he reared a humble cabin in thefrontier wilds of North Carolina. There he lived for a few years, atbut one remove, in point of civilization, from the savages around him. It is not probable that either he or his wife could read or write. Itis not probable that they had any religious thoughts; that their mindsever wandered into the regions of that mysterious immortality whichreaches out beyond the grave. Theirs was apparently purely an animalexistence, like that of the Indian, almost like that of the wildanimals they pursued in the chase. 

At length, John Crockett, with his wife and three or four children, unintimidated by the awful fate of his father's family, wandered fromNorth Carolina, through the long and dreary defiles of the mountains, to the sunny valleys and the transparent skies of East Tennessee. Itwas about the year 1783. Here he came to a rivulet of crystal water, winding through majestic forests and plains of luxuriant verdure. Upona green mound, with this stream flowing near his door, John Crockettbuilt his rude and floorless hut. Punching holes in the soil with astick, he dropped in kernels of corn, and obtained a far richer harvestthan it would be supposed such culture could produce. As we havementioned, the building of this hut and the planting of this crop madepoor John Crockett the proprietor of four hundred acres of land ofalmost inexhaustible fertility. 

In this lonely cabin, far away in the wilderness, David Crockett wasborn, on the 17th of August, 1786. He had then four brothers. Subsequently four other children were added to the family. 

His childhood's home was more humble than the majority of the readersof this volume can imagine. It was destitute of everything which, in ahigher state of civilization, is deemed essential to comfort. Thewigwam of the Indian afforded as much protection from the weather, andwas as well furnished, as the cabin of logs and bark which shelteredhis father's family. It would seem, from David Crockett'sautobiography, that in his childhood he went mainly without anyclothing, like the pappooses of an Indian squaw. These facts of hisearly life must be known, that we may understand the circumstances bywhich his peculiar character was formed. 

He had no instruction whatever in religion, morals, manners, or mentalculture. It cannot be supposed that his illiterate parents were verygentle in their domestic discipline, or that their example could havebeen of any essential advantage in preparing him for the arduousstruggle of life. It would be difficult to find any human being, in acivilized land, who can have enjoyed less opportunities for moralculture than David Crockett enjoyed in his early years. 

There was quite a fall on the Nolachucky River, a little below thecabin of John Crockett. Here the water rushed foaming over the rocks, with fury which would at once swamp any canoe. When David was four orfive years old, and several other emigrants had come and reared theircabins in that vicinity, he was one morning out playing with hisbrothers on the bank of the river. There was a canoe tied to the shore. The boys got into it, and, to amuse themselves, pushed out into thestream, leaving little David, greatly to his indignation, on the shore. 

But the boys did not know how to manage the canoe, and though theyplied the paddies with all vigor, they soon found themselves caught inthe current, and floating rapidly down toward the falls, where, shouldthey be swept over, the death of all was inevitable. 

A man chanced to be working in a field not far distant. He heard thecries of the boys and saw their danger. There was not a moment to belost. He started upon the full run, throwing off coat and waistcoat andshoes, in his almost frantic speed, till he reached the water. He thenplunged in, and, by swimming and wading, seized the canoe when it waswithin but about twenty feet of the roaring falls. With almostsuperhuman exertions he succeeded in dragging it to the shore. 

This event David Crockett has mentioned as the first which left anylasting imprint upon his memory. Not long after this, anotheroccurrence took place characteristic of frontier life. Joseph Hawkins, a brother of David's mother, crossed the mountains and joined theCrockett family in their forest home. One morning he went out to shoota deer, repairing to a portion of the forest much frequented by thisanimal. As he passed a very dense thicket, he saw the boughs swaying toand fro, where a deer was apparently browsing. Very cautiously he creptwithin rifle-shot, occasionally catching a glimpse, through the thickfoliage, of the ear of the animal, --as he supposed. 

Taking deliberate aim he fired, and immediately heard a loud outcry. Rushing to the spot, he found that he had shot a neighbor, who wasthere gathering grapes. The ball passed through his side, inflicting avery serious though not a fatal wound, as it chanced not to strike anyvital part. The wounded man was carried home; and the rude surgerywhich was practised upon him was to insert a silk handkerchief with aramrod in at the bullet-hole, and draw it through his body. Herecovered from the wound. 

Such a man as John Crockett forms no local attachments, and neverremains long in one place. Probably some one came to his region andoffered him a few dollars for his improvements. He abandoned his cabin, with its growing neighborhood, and packing his few household goods uponone or two horses, pushed back fifty miles farther southwest, into thetrackless wilderness. Here he found, about ten miles above the presentsite of Greenville, a fertile and beautiful region. Upon the banks of alittle brook, which furnished him with an abundant supply of purewater, he reared another shanty, and took possession of another fourhundred acres of forest land. Some of his boys were now old enough tofurnish efficient help in the field and in the chase. 

How long John Crockett remained here we know not. Neither do we knowwhat induced him to make another move. But we soon find him pushingstill farther back into the wilderness, with his hapless family of sonsand daughters, dooming them, in all their ignorance, to the societyonly of bears and wolves. He now established himself upon aconsiderable stream, unknown to geography, called Cue Creek. 

David Crockett was now about eight years old. During these yearsemigration had been rapidly flowing from the Atlantic States into thisvast and beautiful valley south of the Ohio. With the increasingemigration came an increasing demand for the comforts of civilization. Framed houses began to rise here and there, and lumber, in its variousforms, was needed. 

John Crockett, with another man by the name of Thomas Galbraith, undertook to build a mill upon Cove Creek. They had nearly completedit, having expended all their slender means in its construction, whenthere came a terrible freshet, and all their works were swept away. Theflood even inundated Crockett's cabin, and the family was compelled tofly to a neighboring eminence for safety. 

Disheartened by this calamity, John Crockett made another move. Knoxville, on the Holston River, had by this time become quite athriving little settlement of log huts. The main route of emigrationwas across the mountains to Abingdon, in Southwestern Virginia, andthen by an extremely rough forest-road across the country to the valleyof the Holston, and down that valley to Knoxville. This route wasmainly traversed by pack-horses and emigrants on foot. But stoutwagons, with great labor, could be driven through. 

John Crockett moved still westward to this Holston valley, where hereared a pretty large log house on this forest road; and opened what hecalled a tavern for the entertainment of teamsters and other emigrants. It was indeed a rude resting-place. But in a fierce storm the exhaustedanimals could find a partial shelter beneath a shed of logs, with cornto eat; and the hardy pioneers could sleep on bear-skins, with theirfeet perhaps soaked with rain, feeling the warmth of the cabin fire. The rifle of John Crockett supplied his guests with the choicestvenison steaks, and his wife baked in the ashes the "journey cake, "since called johnny cake, made of meal from corn pounded in a mortar orground in a hand-mill. The brilliant flame of the pitch-pine knotillumined the cabin; and around the fire these hardy men often keptwakeful until midnight, smoking their pipes, telling their stories, andsinging their songs. 

This house stood alone in the forest. Often the silence of the nightwas disturbed by the cry of the grizzly bear and the howling of wolves. Here David remained four years, aiding his father in all the laboriouswork of clearing the land and tending the cattle. There was of courseno school here, and the boy grew up in entire ignorance of all booklearning. But in these early years he often went into the woods withhis gun in pursuit of game, and, young as he was, acquired considerablereputation as a marksman. 

One day, a Dutchman by the name of Jacob Siler came to the cabin, driving a large herd of cattle. He had gathered them farther west, fromthe luxuriant pastures in the vicinity of Knoxville, where cattlemultiplied with marvellous rapidity, and was taking them back to marketin Virginia. The drover found some difficulty in managing so many halfwild cattle, as he pressed them forward through the wilderness, and hebargained with John Crockett to let his son David, who, as we havesaid, was then twelve years of age, go with him as his hired help. Whatever wages he gave was paid to the father. 

The boy was to go on foot with this Dutchman four hundred miles, driving the cattle. This transaction shows very clearly the hard andunfeeling character of David's parents. When he reached the end of hisjourney, so many weary leagues from home, the only way by which hecould return was to attach himself to some emigrant party or somecompany of teamsters, and walk back, paying for such food as he mightconsume, by the assistance he could render on the way. There are fewparents who could thus have treated a child of twelve years. 

The little fellow, whose affections had never been more cultivated thanthose of the whelp of the wolf or the cub of the bear, still left home, as he tells us, with a heavy heart. The Dutchman was an entire strangerto him, and he knew not what treatment he was to expect at his hands. He had already experienced enough of forest travel to know itshardships. A journey of four hundred miles seemed to him like going tothe uttermost parts of the earth. As the pioneers had smoked theirpipes at his father's cabin fire, he had heard many appalling accountsof bloody conflicts with the Indians, of massacres, scalpings, tortures, and captivity. 

David's father had taught him, very sternly, one lesson, and that wasimplicit and prompt obedience to his demands. The boy knew full wellthat it would be of no avail for him to make any remonstrance. Silently, and trying to conceal his tears, he set out on the perilousenterprise. The cattle could be driven but about fifteen or twentymiles a day. Between twenty and thirty days were occupied in thetoilsome and perilous journey. The route led them often through marshyground, where the mire was trampled knee-deep. All the streams had tobe forded. At times, swollen by the rains, they were very deep. Therewere frequent days of storm, when, through the long hours, the poor boytrudged onward, drenched with rain and shivering with cold. Their farewas most meagre, consisting almost entirely of such game as theychanced to shoot, which they roasted on forked sticks before the fire. 

When night came, often dark and stormy, the cattle were generally toomuch fatigued by their long tramp to stray away. Some instinct alsoinduced them to cluster together. A rude shanty was thrown up. Ofteneverything was so soaked with rain that it was impossible to build afire. The poor boy, weary and supperless, spattered with mud anddrenched with rain, threw himself upon the wet ground for that blessedsleep in which the weary forget their woes. Happy was he if he couldinduce one of the shaggy dogs to lie down by his side, that he mighthug the faithful animal in his arms, and thus obtain a little warmth. 

Great was the luxury when, at the close of a toilsome day, a few piecesof bark could be so piled as to protect from wind and rain, and aroaring fire could blaze and crackle before the little camp. Then theappetite which hunger gives would enable him to feast upon the tendercuts of venison broiled upon the coals, with more satisfaction than thegourmand takes in the choicest viands of the restaurant. Having feastedto satiety, he would stretch himself upon the ground, with his feet tothe fire, and soon be lost to all earth's cares, in sweet oblivion. 

The journey was safely accomplished. The Dutchman had a father-in-law, by the name of Hartley, who lived in Virginia, having reared his cabinwithin about three miles of the Natural Bridge. Here the boy's contractcame to an end. It would seem that the Dutchman was a good sort of man, as the world goes, and that he treated the boy kindly. He was so wellpleased with David's energy and fidelity, that he was inclined toretain him in his service. Seeing the boy's anxiety to return home, hewas disposed to throw around him invisible chains, and to hold him acaptive. He thus threw every possible hindrance in the way of hisreturn, offered to hire him as his boy of all work, and made him apresent of five or six dollars, which perhaps he considered payment inadvance, which bound the boy to remain with him until he had worked itout. 

David soon perceived that his movements were watched, and that he wasnot his own master to go or stay as he pleased. This increased hisrestlessness. Four or five weeks thus passed away, when, one morning, three wagons laden with merchandise came along, bound to Knoxville. They were driven by an old man by the name of Dugan, and his twostalwart sons. They had traversed the road before, and David had seenthe old man at his father's tavern. Secretly the shrewd boy revealed tohim his situation, and his desire to get back to his home. The fatherand sons conferred together upon the subject. They were moved withsympathy for the boy, and, after due deliberation, told him that theyshould stop for the night about seven miles from that place, and shouldset out again on their journey with the earliest light of the morning;and that if he could get to them before daylight, he might follow theirwagons. 

It was Sunday morning, and it so happened that the Dutchman and thefamily had gone away on a visit. David collected his clothes and thelittle money he had, and hid them in a bundle under his bed. A verysmall bundle held them all. The family returned, and, suspectingnothing, all retired to sleep. 

David had naturally a very affectionate heart. He never had been fromhome before. His lonely situation roused all the slumbering emotions ofhis childhood. In describing this event, he writes:

"I went to bed early that night, but sleep seemed to be a stranger tome. For though I was a wild boy, yet I dearly loved my father andmother; and their images appeared to be so deeply fixed in my mind thatI could not sleep for thinking of them. And then the fear that when Ishould attempt to go out I should be discovered and called to a halt, filled me with anxiety. "

A little after midnight, when the family were in profoundest sleep, David cautiously rose, and taking his little bundle, crept out doors. To his disappointment he found that it was snowing fast, eight incheshaving already fallen; and the wintry gale moaned dismally through thetreetops. It was a dark, moonless night. The cabin was in the fields, half a mile from the road along which the wagons had passed. This boyof twelve years, alone in the darkness, was to breast the gale and wadethrough the snow, amid forest glooms, a distance of seven miles, beforehe could reach the appointed rendezvous. 

For a moment his heart sank within him. Then recovering his resolution, he pushed out boldly into the storm. For three hours he toiled along, the snow rapidly increasing in depth until it reached up to his knees. Just before the dawn of the morning he reached the wagons. The men wereup, harnessing their teams. The Dunns were astounded at the appearanceof the little boy amid the darkness and the tempest. They took him intothe house, warmed him by the fire, and gave him a good breakfast, speaking to him words of sympathy and encouragement. The affectionateheart of David was deeply moved by this tenderness, to which he wasquite unaccustomed. 

And then, though exhausted by the toil of a three hours' wading throughthe drifts, he commenced, in the midst of a mountain storm, a longday's journey upon foot. It was as much as the horses could do to dragthe heavily laden wagons over the encumbered road. However weary, hecould not ride. However exhausted, the wagons could not wait for him;neither was there any place in the smothering snow for rest. 

Day after day they toiled along, in the endurance of hardships now withdifficulty comprehended. Sometimes they were gladdened with sunny skiesand smooth paths. Again the clouds would gather, and the rain, thesleet, and the snow would envelop them in glooms truly dismal. Underthese circumstances the progress of the wagons was very slow. David wasimpatient. As he watched the sluggish turns of the wheels, he thoughtthat he could travel very much faster if he should push forward alone, leaving the wagons behind him. 

At length he became so impatient, thoughts of home having obtainedentire possession of his mind, that he informed Mr. Dunn of hisintention to press forward as fast as he could. His elder companionsdeemed it very imprudent for such a mere child, thus alone, to attemptto traverse the wilderness, and they said all they could to dissuadehim, but in vain. He therefore, early the next morning, bade themfarewell, and with light footsteps and a light heart tripped forward, leaving them behind, and accomplishing nearly as much in one day as thewagons could in two. We are not furnished with any of the details ofthis wonderful journey of a solitary child through a wilderness of oneor two hundred miles. We know not how he slept at night, or how heobtained food by day. He informs us that he was at length overtaken bya drover, who had been to Virginia with a herd of cattle, and wasreturning to Knoxville riding one horse and leading another. 

The man was amazed in meeting a mere child in such lonely wilds, andupon hearing his story, his kind heart was touched. David was a fraillittle fellow, whose weight would be no burden for a horse, and thegood man directed him to mount the animal which he led. The boy hadbegun to be very tired. He was just approaching a turbid stream, whoseicy waters, reaching almost to his neck, he would have had to wade butfor this Providential assistance. 

Travellers in the wilderness seldom trot their horses. On such ajourney, an animal who naturally walks fast is of much more value thanone which has attained high speed upon the race-course. Thus pleasantlymounted, David and his kind protector rode along together until theycame within about fifteen miles of John Crockett's tavern, where theirroads diverged. Here David dismounted, and bidding adieu to hisbenefactor, almost ran the remaining distance, reaching home thatevening. 

"The name of this kind gentleman, " he writes, "I have forgotten; for itdeserves a high place in my little book. A remembrance of his kindnessto a little straggling boy has, however, a resting-place in my heart, and there it will remain as long as I live. "

It was the spring of the year when David reached his father's cabin. Hespent a part of the summer there. The picture which David gives of hishome is revolting in the extreme. John Crockett, the tavern-keeper, hadbecome intemperate, and he was profane and brutal. But his son, neverhaving seen any home much better, does not seem to have been aware thatthere were any different abodes upon earth. Of David's mother we knownothing. She was probably a mere household drudge, crushed by anunfeeling husband, without sufficient sensibilities to have been awareof her degraded condition. 

Several other cabins had risen in the vicinity of John Crockett's. Aman came along, by the name of Kitchen, who undertook to open a schoolto teach the boys to read. David went to school four days, but found itvery difficult to master his letters. He was a wiry little fellow, veryathletic, and his nerves seemed made of steel. When roused by anger, hewas as fierce and reckless as a catamount. A boy, much larger thanhimself, had offended him. David decided not to attack him near theschool-house, lest the master might separate them. 

He therefore slipped out of school, just before it was dismissed, andrunning along the road, hid in a thicket, near which his victim wouldhave to pass on his way home. As the boy came unsuspectingly along, young Crockett, with the leap of a panther, sprang upon his back. Withtooth and nail he assailed him, biting, scratching, pounding, until theboy cried for mercy. 

The next morning, David was afraid to go to school, apprehending thesevere punishment he might get from the master. He therefore left homeas usual, but played truant, hiding himself in the woods all day. Hedid the same the next morning, and so continued for several days. Atlast the master sent word to John Crockett, inquiring why his son Davidno longer came to school. The boy was called to an account, and thewhole affair came out. 

John Crockett had been drinking. His eyes flashed fire. He cut a stouthickory stick, and with oaths declared that he would give his boy an"eternal sight" worse whipping than the master would give him, unlesshe went directly back to school. As the drunken father approachedbrandishing his stick, the boy ran, and in a direction opposite fromthat of the school-house. The enraged father pursued, and the unnaturalrace continued for nearly a mile. A slight turn in the road concealedthe boy for a moment from the view of his pursuer, and he plunged intothe forest and hid. The father, with staggering gait, rushed along, buthaving lost sight of the boy, soon gave up the chase, and returned home. 

This revolting spectacle, of such a father and such a son, over whichone would think that angels might weep, only excited the derision ofthis strange boy. It was what he had been accustomed to all his life. He describes it in ludicrous terms, with the slang phrases which wereever dropping from his lips. David knew that a terrible whippingawaited him should he go back to the cabin. 

He therefore pushed on several miles, to the hut of a settler whom heknew. He was, by this time, too much accustomed to the rough and tumbleof life to feel any anxiety about the future. Arriving at the cabin, itso chanced that he found a man, by the name of Jesse Cheek, who wasjust starting with a drove of cattle for Virginia. Very readily, David, who had experience in that business, engaged to accompany him. An elderbrother also, either weary of his wretched home or anxious to see moreof the world, entered into the same service. 

The incidents of this journey were essentially the same with those ofthe preceding one, though the route led two hundred miles farther intothe heart of Virginia. The road they took passed through Abingdon, Witheville, Lynchburg, Charlottesville, Orange Court House, to FrontRoyal in Warren County. Though these frontier regions then, seventy-five years ago, were in a very primitive condition, still youngCrockett caught glimpses of a somewhat higher civilization than he hadever encountered before in his almost savage life. 

Here the drove was sold, and David found himself with a few dollars inhis pocket. His brother decided to look for work in that region. David, then thirteen years of age, hoping tremblingly that time enough hadelapsed to save him from a whipping, turned his thoughts homeward. Abrother of the drover was about to return on horseback. David decidedto accompany him, thinking that the man would permit him to ride a partof the way. 

Much to his disgust, the man preferred to ride himself. The horse washis own. David had no claim to it whatever. He was therefore left totrudge along on foot. Thus he journeyed for three days. He then made anexcuse for stopping a little while, leaving his companion to go onalone. He was very careful not again to overtake him. The boy had then, with four dollars in his pocket, a foot journey before him of betweenthree and four hundred miles. And this was to be taken through desolateregions of morass and forest, where, not unfrequently, the lurkingIndian had tomahawked, or gangs of half-famished wolves had devouredthe passing traveller. He was also liable, at any time, to be caught bynight and storm, without any shelter. 

As he was sauntering along slowly, that he might be sure and notovertake his undesirable companion, he met a wagoner coming fromGreenville, in Tennessee, and bound for Gerardstown, Berkeley County, in the extreme northerly part of Virginia. His route lay directly overthe road which David had traversed. The man's name was Adam Myers. Hewas a jovial fellow, and at once won the heart of the vagrant boy. David soon entered into a bargain with Myers, and turned back with him. The state of mind in which the boy was may be inferred from thefollowing extract taken from his autobiography. I omit the profanity, which was ever sprinkled through all his utterances:

"I often thought of home, and, indeed, wished bad enough to be there. But when I thought of the school-house, and of Kitchen, my master, andof the race with my father, and of the big hickory stick he carried, and of the fierceness of the storm of wrath I had left him in, I wasafraid to venture back. I knew my father's nature so well, that I wascertain his anger would hang on to him like a turtle does to afisherman's toe. The promised whipping came slap down upon everythought of home. "

Travelling back with the wagon, after two days' journey, he met hisbrother again, who had then decided to return himself to the parentalcabin in Tennessee. He pleaded hard with David to accompany himreminding him of the love of his mother and his sisters. The boy, though all unused to weeping, was moved to tears. But the thought ofthe hickory stick, and of his father's brawny arm, decided thequestion. With his friend Myers he pressed on, farther and farther fromhome, to Gerardstown. 

CHAPTER II. 

Youthful Adventures. 

David at Gerardstown. --Trip to Baltimore. --Anecdotes. --He ships forLondon. --Disappointment. --Defrauded of his Wages. --Escapes. --NewAdventures. --Crossing the River. --Returns Home. --His Reception. --A FarmLaborer. --Generosity to his Father. --Love Adventure. --The Wreck of hisHopes. --His School Education. --Second Love Adventure. --BitterDisappointment. --Life in the Backwoods. --Third Love Adventure. 

The wagoner whom David had accompanied to Gerardstown was disappointedin his endeavors to find a load to take back to Tennessee. He thereforetook a load to Alexandria, on the Potomac. David decided to remain atGerardstown until Myers should return. He therefore engaged to work fora man by the name of John Gray, for twenty-five cents a day. It waslight farm-work in which he was employed, and he was so faithful in theperformance of his duties that he pleased the farmer, who was an oldman, very much. 

Myers continued for the winter in teaming backward and forward betweenGerardstown and Baltimore, while David found a comfortable home of easyindustry with the farmer. He was very careful in the expenditure of hismoney, and in the spring found that he had saved enough from his smallwages to purchase him a suit of coarse but substantial clothes. Hethen, wishing to see a little more of the world, decided to make a tripwith the wagoner to Baltimore. 

David had then seven dollars in his pocket, the careful savings of thelabors of half a year. He deposited the treasure with the wagoner forsafe keeping. They started on their journey, with a wagon heavily ladenwith barrels of flour. As they were approaching a small settlementcalled Ellicott's Mills, David, a little ashamed to approach the housesin the ragged and mud-bespattered clothes which he wore on the way, crept into the wagon to put on his better garments. 

While there in the midst of the flour barrels piled up all around him, the horses took fright at some strange sight which they encountered, and in a terrible scare rushed down a steep hill, turned a sharpcorner, broke the tongue of the wagon and both of the axle-trees, andwhirled the heavy barrels about in every direction. The escape of Davidfrom very serious injuries seemed almost miraculous. But our littlebarbarian leaped from the ruins unscathed. It does not appear that hehad ever cherished any conception whatever of an overruling Providence. Probably, a religious thought had never entered his mind. A coltrunning by the side of the horses could not have been more insensibleto every idea of death, and responsibility at God's bar, than was DavidCrockett. And he can be hardly blamed for this. The savages had someidea of the Great Spirit and of a future world. David was asuninstructed in those thoughts as are the wolves and the bears. Manyyears afterward, in writing of this occurrence, he says, withcharacteristic flippancy, interlarded with coarse phrases:

"This proved to me, if a fellow is born to be hung he will never bedrowned; and further, that if he is born for a seat in Congress, evenflour barrels can't make a mash of him. I didn't know how soon I shouldbe knocked into a cocked hat, and get my walking-papers for anothercountry. "

The wagon was quite demolished by the disaster. Another was obtained, the flour reloaded, and they proceeded to Baltimore, dragging the wreckbehind them, to be repaired there. Here young Crockett was amazed atthe aspect of civilization which was opened before him. He wanderedalong the wharves gazing bewildered upon the majestic ships, with theirtowering masts, cordage, and sails, which he saw floating there He hadnever conceived of such fabrics before. The mansions, the churches, thelong lines of brick stores excited his amazement. It seemed to him thathe had been suddenly introduced into a sort of fairy-land. All thoughtsof home now vanished from his mind. The great world was expandingbefore him, and the curiosity of his intensely active mind was rousedto explore more of its wonders. 

One morning he ventured on board one of the ships at a wharf, and wascuriously and cautiously peering about, when the captain caught sightof him. It so happened that he was in need of a sailor-boy, and beingpleased with the appearance of the lad, asked David if he would notlike to enter into his service to take a voyage to London. The boy hadno more idea of where London was, or what it was, than of a place inthe moon. But eagerly he responded, "Yes, " for he cared little where hewent or what became of him, he was so glad of an opportunity to seemore of the wonders of this unknown world. 

The captain made a few inquiries respecting his friends, his home, andhis past modes of life, and then engaged him for the cruise. David, ina state of high, joyous excitement, hurried back to the wagoner, to gethis seven dollars of money and some clothes he had left with him. ButMyers put a very prompt veto upon the lad's procedure, assuming that hewas the boy's master, he declared that he should not go to sea. Herefused to let him have either his clothes or his money, asserting thatit was his duty to take him back to his parents in Tennessee. Davidwould gladly have fled from him, and embarked without money and withoutclothes; but the wagoner watched him so closely that escape wasimpossible. 

David was greatly down-hearted at this disappointment, and watchedeagerly for an opportunity to obtain deliverance from his bondage. ButMyers was a burly teamster who swung a very heavy wagon-whip, threatening the boy with a heavy punishment if he should make anyattempt to run away. 

After a few days, Myers loaded his team for Tennessee, and with hisreluctant boy set out on his long journey. David was exceedinglyrestless. He now hated the man who was so tyranically domineering overhim. He had no desire to return to his home, and he dreaded the hickorystick with which he feared his brutal father would assail him. One darknight, an hour or two before the morning, David carefully took hislittle bundle of clothes, and creeping noiselessly from the cabin, rushed forward as rapidly as his nimble feet could carry him. He soonfelt quite easy in reference to his escape. He knew that the wagonerslept soundly, and that two hours at least must elapse before he wouldopen his eyes. He then would not know with certainty in what directionthe boy had fled. He could not safely leave his horses and wagon alonein the wilderness, to pursue him; and even should he unharness one ofthe horses and gallop forward in search of the fugitive, David, bykeeping a vigilant watch, would see him in the distance and couldeasily plunge into the thickets of the forest, and thus elude pursuit. 

He had run along five or six miles, when just as the sun was rising heovertook another wagon. He had already begun to feel very lonely anddisconsolate. He had naturally an affectionate heart and a strong mind;traits of character which gleamed through all the dark clouds thatobscured his life. He was alone in the wilderness, without a penny; andhe knew not what to do, or which way to turn. The moment he caughtsight of the teamster his heart yearned for sympathy. Tears moistenedhis eyes, and hastening to the stranger, the friendless boy of butthirteen years frankly told his whole story. The wagoner was a rough, profane, burly man, of generous feelings. There was an air of sincerityin the boy, which convinced him of the entire truth of his statements. His indignation was aroused, and he gave expression to that indignationin unmeasured terms. Cracking his whip in his anger, he declared thatMyers was a scoundrel, thus to rob a friendless boy, and that he wouldlash the money out of him. 

This man, whose name also chanced to be Myers, was of the tiger breed, fearing nothing, ever ready for a fight, and almost invariably comingoff conqueror. In his generous rage he halted his team, grasped hiswagon-whip, and, accompanied by the trembling boy, turned back, breathing vengeance. David was much alarmed, and told his protectorthat he was afraid to meet the wagoner, who had so often threatened himwith his whip. But his new friend said, "Have no fear. The man shallgive you back your money, or I will thrash it out of him. "

They had proceeded but about two miles when they met the approachingteam of Adam Myers. Henry Myers, David's new friend, leading him by thehand, advanced menacingly upon the other teamster, and greeted him withthe words:

"You accursed scoundrel, what do you mean by robbing this friendlessboy of his money?" Adam Myers confessed that he had received sevendollars of the boy's money. He said, however, that he had no money withhim; that he had invested all he had in articles in his wagon, and thathe intended to repay the boy as soon as they got back to Tennessee. This settled the question, and David returned with Henry Myers to hiswagon, and accompanied him for several days on his slow and toilsomejourney westward. 

The impatient boy, as once before, soon got weary of the loitering paceof the heavily laden team, and concluded to leave his friend and pressforward more rapidly alone. It chanced, one evening, that severalwagons met, and the teamsters encamped for the night together. HenryMyers told them the story of the friendless boy, and that he was nowabout to set out alone for the long journey, most of it through anentire wilderness, and through a land of strangers wherever there mightchance to be a few scattered cabins. They took up a collection forDavid, and presented him with three dollars. 

The little fellow pressed along, about one hundred and twenty-fivemiles, down the valley between the Alleghany and the Blue ridges, untilhe reached Montgomery Court House. The region then, nearly threequarters of a century ago, presented only here and there a spot wherethe light of civilization had entered. Occasionally the log cabin ofsome poor emigrant was found in the vast expanse. David, too proud tobeg, when he had any money with which to pay, found his purse emptywhen he had accomplished this small portion of his journey. 

In this emergence, he hired out to work for a man a month for fivedollars, which was at the rate of about one shilling a day. Faithfullyhe fulfilled his contract, and then, rather dreading to return home, entered into an engagement with a hatter, Elijah Griffith, to work inhis shop for four years. Here he worked diligently eighteen monthswithout receiving any pay. His employer then failed, broke up, and leftthe country. Again this poor boy, thus the sport of fortune, foundhimself without a penny, with but few clothes, and those much worn. 

But it was not his nature to lay anything very deeply to heart. Helaughed at misfortune, and pressed on singing and whistling through allstorms. He had a stout pair of hands, good nature, and adaptation toany kind of work. There was no danger of his starving; and exposures, which many would deem hardships, were no hardships for him. Undismayedhe ran here and there, catching at such employment as he could find, until he had supplied himself with some comfortable clothing, and had afew dollars of ready money in his purse. Again he set out alone and onfoot for his far-distant home. He had been absent over two years, andwas new fifteen years of age. 

He trudged along, day after day, through rain and sunshine, until hereached a broad stream called New River. It was wintry weather. Thestream was swollen by recent rains, and a gale then blowing wasploughing the surface into angry waves. Teams forded the stream manymiles above. There was a log hut here, and the owner had a frail canoein which he could paddle an occasional traveller across the river. Butnothing would induce him to risk his life in an attempt to cross insuch a storm. 

The impetuous boy, in his ignorance of the effect of wind upon waves, resolved to attempt to cross, at every hazard, and notwithstanding allremonstrances. He obtained a leaky canoe, which was half stranded uponthe shore, and pushed out on his perilous voyage. He tied his littlebundle of clothes to the bows of the boat, that they might not bewashed or blown away, and soon found himself exposed to the full forceof the wind, and tossed by billows such as he had never dreamed ofbefore. He was greatly frightened, and would have given all he had inthe world, to have been safely back again upon the shore. But he wassure to be swamped if he should attempt to turn the boat broadside tothe waves in such a gale. The only possible salvation for him was tocut the approaching billows with the bows of the boat. Thus he mightpossibly ride over them, though at the imminent peril, every moment, ofshipping a sea which would engulf him and his frail boat in a waterygrave. 

In this way he reached the shore, two miles above the properlanding-place. The canoe was then half full of water. He was drenchedwith spray, which was frozen into almost a coat of mail upon hisgarments. Shivering with cold, he had to walk three miles through theforest before he found a cabin at whose fire he could warm and dryhimself. Without any unnecessary delay he pushed on until he crossedthe extreme western frontier line of Virginia, and entered SullivanCounty, Tennessee. 

An able-bodied young man like David Crockett, strong, athletic, willingto work, and knowing how to turn his hand to anything, could, in thehumblest cabin, find employment which would provide him with board andlodging. He was in no danger of starving. There was, at that time, butone main path of travel from the East into the regions of the boundlessWest. 

As David was pressing along this path he came to a little hamlet of loghuts, where he found the brother whom he had left when he started fromhome eighteen months before with the drove of cattle. He remained withhim for two or three weeks, probably paying his expenses by farm laborand hunting. Again he set out for home. The evening twilight wasdarkening into night when he caught sight of his father's humble cabin. Several wagons were standing around, showing that there must beconsiderable company in the house. 

With not a little embarrassment, he ventured in. It was rather dark. His mother and sisters were preparing supper at the immense fireside. Quite a group of teamsters were scattered around the room, smokingtheir pipes, and telling their marvellous stories. David, during hisabsence of two years, had grown, and changed considerably in personalappearance. None of the family recognized him. They generally supposed, as he had been absent so long, that he was dead. 

David inquired if he could remain all night. Being answered in theaffirmative, he took a seat in a corner and remained perfectly silent, gazing upon the familiar scene, and watching the movements of hisfather, mother, and sisters. At length supper was ready, and all tookseats at the table. As David came more into the light, one of hissisters, observing him, was struck with his resemblance to her lostbrother. Fixing her eyes upon him, she, in a moment, rushed forward andthrew her arms around his neck, exclaiming, "Here is my brother David. "

Quite a scene ensued. The returning prodigal was received with as muchaffection as could be expected in a family with such uncultivatedhearts and such unrefined habits as were found in the cabin of JohnCrockett. Even the stern old man forgot his hickory switch, and David, much to his relief, found that he should escape the long-dreadedwhipping. Many years after this, when David Crockett, to his ownsurprise, and that of the whole nation, found himself elevated to theposition of one of our national legislators, he wrote:

"But it will be a source of astonishment to many, who reflect that I amnow a member of the American Congress, the most enlightened body of menin the world, that, at so advanced an age, the age of fifteen, I didnot know the first letter in the book. "

By the laws and customs of our land, David was bound to obey his fatherand work for him until he was twenty-one years of age. Until that time, whatever wages he might earn belonged to his father. It is often an actof great generosity for a hard-working farmer to release a stout lad ofeighteen or nineteen from this obligation, and "to give him, " as it isphrased, "his time. "

John Crockett owed a neighbor, Abraham Wilson, thirty-six dollars. Hetold David that if he would work for Mr. Wilson until his wages paidthat sum, he would then release him from all his obligations to hisfather, and his son might go free. It was a shrewd bargain for the oldman, for he had already learned that David was abundantly capable oftaking care of himself, and that he would come and go when and where hepleased. 

The boy, weary of his wanderings, consented to the arrangement, andengaged to work for Mr. Wilson for six months, in payment for which, the note was to be delivered up to his father. It was characteristic ofDavid that whatever he undertook he engaged in with all his might. Hewas a rude, coarse boy. It was scarcely possible, with his pasttraining, that he should be otherwise. But he was very faithful infulfilling his obligations. Though his sense of right and wrong wasvery obtuse, he was still disposed to do the right so far as hisuncultivated conscience revealed it to him. 

For six months, David worked for Mr. Wilson with the utmost fidelityand zeal. He then received the note, presented it to his father, and, before he was sixteen years of age, stood up proudly his own man. Hisfather had no longer the right to whip him. His father had no longerthe right to call upon him for any service without paying him for it. And on the other hand, he could no longer look to his father for foodor clothing. This thought gave him no trouble. He had already takencare of himself for two years, and he felt no more solicitude in regardto the future than did the buffalo's calf or the wolf's whelp. 

Wilson was a bad man, dissipated and unprincipled. But he had foundDavid to be so valuable a laborer that he offered him high wages if hewould remain and work for him. It shows a latent, underlying principleof goodness in David, that he should have refused the offer. He writes:

"The reason was, it was a place where a heap of bad company met todrink and gamble; and I wanted to get away from them, for I know'd verywell, if I staid there, I should get a bad name, as nobody could berespectable that would live there. "

About this time a Quaker, somewhat advanced in years, a good, honestman, by the name of John Kennedy, emigrated from North Carolina, andselecting his four hundred acres of land about fifteen miles from JohnCrockett's, reared a log hut and commenced a clearing. In sometransaction with Crockett he took his neighbor's note for fortydollars. He chanced to see David, a stout lad of prepossessingappearance, and proposed that he should work for him for two shillingsa day taking him one week upon trial. At the close of the week theQuaker expressed himself as highly satisfied with his work, and offeredto pay him with his father's note of forty dollars for six months'labor on his farm. 

David knew full well how ready his father was to give his note, and howslow he was to pay it. He was fully aware that the note was not worth, to him, the paper upon which it was written. But he reflected that thenote was an obligation upon his father, that he was very poor, and hislot in life was hard. It certainly indicated much innate nobility ofnature that this boy, under these circumstances, should have acceptedthe offer of the Quaker. But David did this. For six months he laboredassiduously, without the slightest hope of reward, excepting that hewould thus relieve his father, whom he had no great cause either torespect or love, from the embarrassment of the debt. 

For a whole half-year David toiled upon the farm of the Quaker, neveronce during that time visiting his home. At the end of the term hereceived his pay for those long months of labor, in a little piece ofrumpled paper, upon which his father had probably made his mark. It wasSaturday evening. The next morning he borrowed a horse of his employerand set out for a visit home. He was kindly welcomed. His father knewnothing of the agreement which his son had made with Mr. Kennedy. Asthe family were talking together around the cabin fire, David drew thenote from his pocket and presented it to his father. The old man seemedmuch troubled. He supposed Mr. Kennedy had sent it for collection. Asusual, he began to make excuses. He said that he was very sorry that hecould not pay it, that he had met with many misfortunes, that he had nomoney, and that he did not know what to do. 

David then told his father that he did not hand him the bill forcollection, but that it was a present from him--that he had paid it infull. It is easy for old and broken-down men to weep. John Crockettseemed much affected by this generosity of his son, and David says "heshed a heap of tears. " He, however, avowed his inability to payanything whatever, upon the note. 

David had now worked a year without getting any money for himself. Hisclothes were worn out, and altogether he was in a very dilapidatedcondition. He went back to the Quaker's, and again engaged in hisservice, desiring to earn some money to purchase clothes. Two monthsthus passed away. Every ardent, impetuous boy must have a loveadventure. David had his. A very pretty young Quakeress, of aboutDavid's age, came from North Carolina to visit Mr. Kennedy, who was heruncle. David fell desperately in love with her. We cannot betterdescribe this adventure than in the unpolished diction of thisilliterate boy. If one would understand this extraordinary character, it is necessary thus to catch such glimpses as we can of his innerlife. Let this necessity atone for the unpleasant rudeness of speech. Be it remembered that this reminiscence was written after DavidCrockett was a member of Congress. 

"I soon found myself head over heels in love with this girl. I thoughtthat if all the hills about there were pure chink, and all belonged tome, I would give them if I could just talk to her as I wanted to. But Iwas afraid to begin; for when I would think of saying anything to her, my heart would begin to flutter like a duck in a puddle. And if I triedto outdo it and speak, it would get right smack up in my throat, andchoke me like a cold potato. It bore on my mind in this way, till atlast I concluded I must die if I didn't broach the subject. So Idetermined to begin and hang on a-trying to speak, till my heart wouldget out of my throat one way or t'other. 

"And so one day at it I went, and after several trials I could say alittle. I told her how I loved her; that she was the darling object ofmy soul and body, and I must have her, or else I should pine down tonothing, and just die away with consumption. 

"I found my talk was not disagreeable to her. But she was an honestgirl, and didn't want to deceive nobody. She told me she was engaged toher cousin, a son of the old Quaker. This news was worse to me thanwar, pestilence, or famine. But still I know'd I could not help myself. I saw quick enough my cake was dough; and I tried to cool off as fastas possible. But I had hardly safety pipes enough, as my love was sohot as mighty nigh to burst my boilers. But I didn't press my claimsany more, seeing there was no chance to do anything. "

David's grief was very sincere, and continued as long as is usually thecase with disappointed lovers. 

David soon began to cherish some slight idea of the deficiency in hiseducation. He had never been to school but four days; and in that timehe had learned absolutely nothing. A young man, a Quaker, had opened aschool about a mile and a half from Mr. Kennedy's. David made anarrangement with his employer by which he was to go to school four daysin the week, and work the other two days for his board. He continued inthis way for six months. But it was very evident that David was notborn for a scholar. At the end of that time he could read a little inthe first primer. With difficulty he could make certain hieroglyphicswhich looked like his name. He could also perform simple sums inaddition, subtraction, and multiplication. The mysteries of division henever surmounted. 

This was the extent of his education. He left school, and in thelaborious life upon which he entered, never after improved anyopportunity for mental culture. The disappointment which David hadencountered in his love affair, only made him more eager to seek a newobject upon which he might fix his affections. Not far from Mr. Kennedy's there was the cabin of a settler, where there were two orthree girls. David had occasionally met them. Boy as he was, for he wasnot yet eighteen, he suddenly and impetuously set out to see if hecould not pick, from them, one for a wife. 

Without delay he made his choice, and made his offer, and was aspromptly accepted as a lover. Though they were both very young, andneither of them had a dollar, still as those considerations would nothave influenced David in the slightest degree, we know not why theywhere not immediately married. Several months of very desperate andsatisfactory courtship passed away, when the time came for the nuptialsof the little Quaker girl, which ceremony was to take place at thecabin of her uncle David and his "girl" were invited to the wedding. The scene only inflamed the desires of David to hasten hismarriage-day. He was very importunate in pressing his claims. Sheseemed quite reluctant to fix the day, but at last consented; and saysDavid, "I thought if that day come, I should be the happiest man in thecreated world, or in the moon, or anywhere else. "

In the mean time David had become very fond of his rifle, and hadraised enough money to buy him one. He was still living with theQuaker. Game was abundant, and the young hunter often brought invaluable supplies of animal food. There were frequent shooting-matchesin that region. David, proud of his skill, was fond of attending them. But his Quaker employer considered them a species of gambling, whichdrew together all the idlers and vagrants of the region, and he couldnot approve of them. 

There was another boy living at that time with the Quaker. Theypractised all sorts of deceptions to steal away to the shooting-matchesunder pretence that they were engaged in other things. This boy wasquite in love with a sister of David's intended wife. The staid memberof the Society of Friends did not approve of the rude courting frolicsof those times, which frequently occupied nearly the whole night. 

The two boys slept in a garret, in what was called the gable end of thehouse. There was a small window in their rough apartment. One Sunday, when the Quaker and his wife were absent attending a meeting, the boyscut a long pole, and leaned it up against the side of the house, ashigh as the window, but so that it would not attract any attention. They were as nimble as catamounts, and could run up and down the polewithout the slightest difficulty. They would go to bed at the usualearly hour. As soon as all were quiet, they would creep from the house, dressed in their best apparel, and taking the two farm-horses, wouldmount their backs and ride, as fast as possible, ten miles through theforest road to where the girls lived. They were generally expected. After spending all the hours of the middle of the night in the variedfrolics of country courtship, they would again mount their horses andgallop home, being especially careful to creep in at their windowbefore the dawn of day The course of true love seemed for once to berunning smoothly. Saturday came, and the next week, on Thursday, Davidwas to be married. 

It so happened that there was to be a shooting match on Saturday, atone of the cabins not far from the home of his intended bride. Davidmade some excuse as to the necessity of going home to prepare for hiswedding, and in the morning set out early, and directed his stepsstraight to the shooting-match. Here he was very successful in hisshots, and won about five dollars. In great elation of spirits, andfully convinced that he was one of the greatest and happiest men in theworld, he pressed on toward the home of his intended bride. 

He had walked but a couple of miles, when he reached the cabin of thegirl's uncle. Considering the members of the family already as hisrelatives, he stepped in, very patronizingly, to greet them. He doubtednot that they were very proud of the approaching alliance of theirniece with so distinguished a man as himself--a man who had actuallyfive dollars, in silver, in his pocket. Entering the cabin, he found asister of his betrothed there. Instead of greeting him with thecordiality he expected, she seemed greatly embarrassed. David hadpenetration enough to see that something was wrong. The reception shegave him was not such as he thought a brother-in-law ought to receive. He made more particular inquiries. The result we will give in David'slanguage. 

"She then burst into tears, and told me that her sister was going todeceive me; and that she was to be married to another man the next day. This was as sudden to me as a clap of thunder of a bright sunshiny day. It was the capstone of all the afflictions I had ever met with; and itseemed to me that it was more than any human creature could endure. Itstruck me perfectly speechless for some time, and made me feel so weakthat I thought I should sink down. I however recovered from the shockafter a little, and rose and started without any ceremony, or evenbidding anybody good-bye. The young woman followed me out to the gate, and entreated me to go on to her father's, and said she would go withme. 

"She said the young man who was going to marry her sister had got hislicense and asked for her. But she assured me that her father andmother both preferred me to him; and that she had no doubt that if Iwould go on I could break off the match. But I found that I could go nofarther. My heart was bruised, and my spirits were broken down. So Ibid her farewell, and turned my lonesome and miserable steps back againhomeward, concluding that I was only born for hardship, misery, anddisappointment. I now began to think that in making me it was entirelyforgotten to make my mate; that I was born odd, and should alwaysremain so, and that nobody would have me. 

"But all these reflections did not satisfy my mind, for I had no peace, day nor night, for several weeks. My appetite failed me, and I grewdaily worse and worse. They all thought I was sick; and so I was. Andit was the worst kind of sickness, a sickness of the heart, and all thetender parts, produced by disappointed love. "

For some time David continued in a state of great dejection, a lovelornswain of seventeen years. Thus disconsolate, he loved to roam theforest alone, with his rifle as his only companion, brooding over hissorrows. The gloom of the forest was congenial to him, and theexcitement of pursuing the game afforded some slight relief to hisagitated spirit. One day, when he had wandered far from home, he cameupon the cabin of a Dutchman with whom he had formed some previousacquaintance. He had a daughter, who was exceedingly plain in herpersonal appearance, but who had a very active mind, and was a bright, talkative girl. 

She had heard of David's misadventure, and rather unfeelingly ralliedhim upon his loss. She however endeavored to comfort him by theassurance that there were as good fish in the sea as had ever beencaught out of it. David did not believe in this doctrine at all, asapplied to his own case, He thought his loss utterly irretrievable. Andin his still high appreciation of himself, notwithstanding his deepmortification, he thought that the lively Dutch girl was endeavoring tocatch him for her lover. In this, however, he soon found himselfmistaken. 

She told him that there was to be a reaping frolic in theirneighborhood in a few days, and that if he would attend it, she wouldshow him one of the prettiest girls upon whom he ever fixed his eyes. Difficult as he found it to shut out from his mind his lost love, uponwhom his thoughts were dwelling by day and by night, he very wiselydecided that his best remedy would be found in what Dr. Chalmers calls"the expulsive power of a new affection;" that is, that he would tryand fall in love with some other girl as soon as possible. His ownlanguage, in describing his feelings at that time, is certainly verydifferent from that which the philosopher or the modern novelist wouldhave used, but it is quite characteristic of the man. The Dutch maidenassured him that the girl who had deceived him was not to be comparedin beauty with the one she would show to him. He writes:

"I didn't believe a word of all this, for I had thought that such apiece of flesh and blood as she had never been manufactured, and neverwould again. I agreed with her that the little varmint had treated meso bad that I ought to forget her, and yet I couldn't do it. Iconcluded that the best way to accomplish it was to cut out again, andsee if I could find any other that would answer me; and so I told theDutch girl that I would be at the reaping, and would bring as many as Icould with me. "

David seems at this time to have abandoned all constant industry, andto be loafing about with his rifle, thus supporting himself with thegame he took. He traversed the still but slightly broken forest in alldirections, carrying to many scattered farm-houses intelligence of theapproaching reaping frolic. He informed the good Quaker with whom hehad worked of his intention to be there. Mr. Kennedy endeavored todissuade him. He said that there would be much bad company there; thatthere would be drinking and carousing, and that David had been so gooda boy that he should be very sorry to have him get a bad name. 

The curiosity of the impetuous young man was, however, by this time, too much aroused for any persuasions to hold him back. Shouldering hisrifle, he hastened to the reaping at the appointed day. Upon hisarrival at the place he found a large company already assembled. Helooked around for the pretty girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. Shechanced to be in a shed frolicking with some others of the young people. 

But as David, with his rifle on his shoulder, sauntered around, an agedIrish woman, full of nerve and volubility, caught sight of him. She wasthe mother of the girl, and had been told of the object of David'svisit. He must have appeared very boyish, for he had not yet enteredhis eighteenth year, and though very wiry and athletic, he was ofslender frame, and rather small in stature. 

The Irish woman hastened to David; lavished upon him complimentsrespecting his rosy cheeks, and assured him that she had exactly such asweet heart for him as he needed. She did not allow, David to have anydoubt that she would gladly welcome him as the husband of her daughter. 

Pretty soon the young, fresh, blooming, mirthful girl came along; andDavid fell in love with her at first sight. Not much formality ofintroduction was necessary: each was looking for the other. Both of theprevious loves of the young man were forgotten in an instant. Hedevoted himself with the utmost assiduity, to the little Irish girl. Hewas soon dancing with her. After a very vigorous "double shuffle, " asthey were seated side by side on a bench intensely talking, for DavidCrockett was never at a loss for words, the mother came up, and, in herwonderfully frank mode of match-making, jocosely addressed him as herson-in-law. 

Even David's imperturbable self-possession was disturbed by thisassailment. Still he was much pleased to find both mother and daughterso favorably disposed toward him. The rustic frolicking continuednearly all night. In the morning, David, in a very happy frame of mind, returned to the Quaker's, and in anticipation of soon setting upfarming for himself, engaged to work for him for six months for alow-priced horse. 

CHAPTER III. 

Marriage and Settlement. 

Rustic Courtship. --The Rival Lover. --Romantic Incident. --The Purchaseof a Horse. --The Wedding. --Singular Ceremonies. --The Termagant. --BridalDays. --They commence Housekeeping. --The Bridal Mansion andOutfit. --Family Possessions. --The Removal to Central Tennessee. --Modeof Transportation. --The New Home and its Surroundings. --BusyIdleness. --The Third Move. --The Massacre at Fort Mimms. 

David took possession of his horse, and began to work very diligentlyto pay for it. He felt that now he was a man of property. After thelapse of a few weeks he mounted his horse and rode over to theIrishman's cabin to see his girl, and to find out how she lived, andwhat sort of people composed the family. Arriving at the log hut, hefound the father to be a silent, staid old man, and the mother asvoluble and nervous a little woman as ever lived. Much to hisdisappointment, the girl was away. After an hour or two she returned, having been absent at some meeting or merry-making, and, much to hischagrin, she brought back with her a stout young fellow who wasevidently her lover. 

The new-comer was not at all disposed to relinquish his claims in favorof David Crockett. He stuck close to the maiden, and kept up such anincessant chatter that David could scarcely edge in a word. Incharacteristic figure of speech he says, "I began to think I wasbarking up the wrong tree again. But I determined to stand up to myrack, fodder or no fodder. " He thought he was sure of the favor of herparents, and he was not certain that the girl herself had not given himsundry glances indicative of her preference. Dark night was now comingon, and David had a rough road of fifteen miles to traverse through theforest before he could reach home. He thought that if the Irishman'sdaughter cherished any tender feelings toward him, she would bereluctant to have him set out at that late hour on such a journey. Hetherefore rose to take leave. 

His stratagem proved successful. The girl immediately came, leaving herother companion, and in earnest tones entreated him not to go thatevening. The lover was easily persuaded. His heart grew lighter and hisspirit bolder. She soon made it so manifest in what direction herchoice lay, that David was left entire master of the field. Hisdiscomfited rival soon took his hat and withdrew, David thus was freedfrom all his embarrassments. 

It was Saturday night. He remained at the cabin until Monday morning, making very diligent improvement of his time in the practice of allthose arts of rural courtship which instinct teaches. He then returnedhome, not absolutely engaged, but with very sanguine hopes. 

At that time, in that region, wolves were abundant and verydestructive. The neighbors, for quite a distance, combined for a greatwolf-hunt, which should explore the forest for many miles. By thehunters thus scattering on the same day, the wolves would have no placeof retreat. If they fled before one hunter they would encounteranother. Young Crockett, naturally confident, plunged recklessly intothe forest, and wandered to and fro until, to his alarm, he foundhimself bewildered and utterly lost. There were no signs of humanhabitations near, and night was fast darkening around him. 

Just as he was beginning to feel that he must look out for a night'sencampment, he saw in the distance, through the gigantic trees, a younggirl running at her utmost speed, or, as he expressed it in theCrockett vernacular, "streaking it along through the woods like allwrath. " David gave chase, and soon overtook the terrified girl, whom hefound, to his surprise and delight, to be his own sweetheart, who hadalso by some strange accident got lost. 

Here was indeed a romantic and somewhat an embarrassing adventure. Thesituation was, however, by no means so embarrassing as it would havebeen to persons in a higher state of civilization. The cabin of theemigrant often consisted of but one room, where parents and childrenand the chance guest passed the night together. They could easily throwup a camp. David with his gun could kindle a fire and get some game. The girl could cook it. All their physical wants would thus besupplied. They had no material inconveniences to dread in camping outfor a night. The delicacy of the situation would not be very keenlyfelt by persons who were at but one remove above the native Indian. 

The girl had gone out in the morning into the woods, to hunt up one ofher father's horses. She missed her way, became lost, and had beenwandering all day long farther and farther from home. Soon after thetwo met they came across a path which they knew must lead to somehouse. Following this, just after dark they came within sight of thedim light of a cabin fire. They were kindly received by the inmates, and, tired as they were, they both sat up all night. Upon inquiry theyfound that David had wandered ten miles from his home, and the younggirl seven from hers. Their paths lay in different directions, but theroad was plain, and in the morning they separated, and withoutdifficulty reached their destination. 

David was now anxious to get married immediately. It will be rememberedthat he had bought a horse; but he had not paid for it. The onlyproperty he had, except the coarse clothes upon his back, was a rifle. All the land in that neighborhood was taken up. He did not even own anaxe with which to build him a log cabin. It would be necessary for himto hire some deserted shanty, and borrow such articles as wereindispensable. Nothing could be done to any advantage without a horse. To diminish the months which he had promised to work in payment for theanimal, he threw in his rifle. 

After a few weeks of toil the horse was his. He mounted his steed, deeming himself one of the richest men in the far West, and rode to seehis girl and fix upon his wedding-day. He confesses that as he rodealong, considering that he had been twice disappointed, he experiencedno inconsiderable trepidation as to the result of this thirdmatrimonial enterprise. He reached the cabin, and his worst fears wererealized. 

The nervous, voluble, irritable little woman, who with all of atermagant's energy governed both husband and family, had either becomedissatisfied with young Crockett's poverty, or had formed the plan ofsome other more ambitious alliance for her daughter. She fell uponDavid in a perfect tornado of vituperation, and ordered him out of thehouse. She was "mighty wrathy, " writes David, "and looked at me assavage as a meat-axe. "

David was naturally amiable, and in the depressing circumstances had noheart to return railing for railing. He meekly reminded the infuriatewoman that she had called him "son-in-law" before he had attempted tocall her "mother-in-law, " and that he certainly had been guilty of noconduct which should expose him to such treatment. He soon saw, to hisgreat satisfaction, that the daughter remained faithful to him, andthat the meek father was as decidedly on his side as his timid naturewould permit him to be. Though David felt much insulted, he restrainedhis temper, and, turning from the angry mother, told her daughter thathe would come the next Thursday on horseback, leading another horse forher; and that then he would take her to a justice of the peace wholived at the distance of but a few miles from them, where they would bemarried. David writes of the mother:

"Her Irish was too high to do anything with her; so I quit trying. AllI cared for was to have her daughter on my side, which I know'd was thecase then. But how soon some other fellow might knock my nose out ofjoint again, I couldn't tell. Her mother declared I shouldn't have her. But I knowed I should, if somebody else didn't get her before Thursday. "

The all-important wedding-day soon came David was resolved to crush outall opposition and consummate the momentous affair with veryconsiderable splendor. He therefore rode to the cabin with a veryimposing retinue. Mounted proudly upon his own horse, and leading aborrowed steed, with a blanket saddle, for his bride, and accompaniedby his elder brother and wife and a younger brother and sister, each onhorseback, he "cut out to her father's house to get her. "

When this cavalcade of six horses had arrived within about two miles ofthe Irishman's cabin, quite a large party was found assembled from thelog huts scattered several miles around. David, kind-hearted, generous, obliging, was very popular with his neighbors. They had heard of theapproaching nuptials of the brave boy of but eighteen years, and of thewrath of the brawling, ill-tempered mother. They anticipated a scene, and wished to render David the support of their presence and sympathy. This large party, some on foot and some on horseback, proceededtogether to the Irishman's cabin. The old man met them with smiles, whiskey bottle in hand, ready to offer them all a drink. The wife, however, was obdurate as ever. She stood at the cabin door, her eyesflashing fire, and quite bewildered to decide in what way to attempt torepel and drive off her foe. 

She expected that the boy would come alone, and that, with herall-potent tongue, she would so fiercely assail him and so frighten heryoung girl as still to prevent the marriage. But here was quite an armyof the neighbors, from miles around, assembled. They were all evidentlythe friends of David. Every eye was fixed upon her. Every ear waslistening to hear what she would say. Every tongue was itching to cryout shame to her opposition, and to overwhelm her with reproaches. Foronce the termagant found herself baffled, and at her wits' end. 

The etiquette of courts and cabins are quite different. David paid noattention to the mother, but riding up to the door of the log house, leading the horse for his bride, he shouted to her to come out. Thegirl had enjoyed no opportunity to pay any attention to her bridaltrousseau. But undoubtedly she had contrived to put on her best attire. We do not know her age, but she was ever spoken of as a remarkablypretty little girl, and was probably about seventeen years old. 

David did not deem it necessary to dismount, but called upon his "girl"to jump upon the horse he was leading. She did so. The mother waspowerless. It was a waterloo defeat. In another moment they woulddisappear, riding away along the road, which wound through the gigantictrees of the forest. In another hour they would be married. And thenthey would forever be beyond the reach of the clamor of her volubletongue. She began to relent. The old man, accustomed to her waywardhumors, instinctively perceived it. Stepping up to David, and placinghis hand upon the neck of his horse, he said:

"I wish you would stay and be married here. My woman has too muchtongue. You oughtn't mind her. "

Having thus, for a moment, arrested their departure, he stepped back tothe door, where his discomfited wife stood, and entreated her toconsent to their being married there. After much persuasion, commonsense triumphed over uncommon stubbornness. She consented. David andhis expectant bride were both on horseback, all ready to go. The womanrather sullenly came forward and said:

"I am sorry for the words I have spoken. This girl is the only child Ihave ever had to marry. I cannot bear to see her go off in this way. Ifyou'll come into the house and be married here, I will do the best Ican for you. "

The good-natured David consented. They alighted from their horses, andthe bridal party entered the log hut. The room was not large, and theuninvited guests thronged it and crowded around the door. The justiceof peace was sent for, and the nuptial knot was tied. 

The wedding ceremonies on such occasions were sufficiently curious tobe worthy of record. They certainly were in very wide contrast with thepomp and splendor of nuptials in the palatial mansions of the presentday. A large party usually met at some appointed place, some mountedand others on foot, to escort the bridegroom to the house of the bride. The horses were decorated with all sorts of caparisons, with ropes forbridles, with blankets or furs for saddles. The men were dressed indeerskin moccasins, leather breeches, leggins, coarse hunting-shirts ofall conceivable styles of material, and all homemade. 

The women wore gowns of very coarse homespun and home-woven cloth, composed of linen and wool, and called linsey-woolsey, very coarseshoes, and sometimes with buckskin gloves of their own manufacture. Ifany one chanced to have a ring or pretty buckle, it was a relic offormer times. 

There were no carriages, for there were no roads. The narrow trail theytraversed in single file was generally a mere horse-path, often socontracted in width that two horses could not pass along abreast. Asthey marched along in straggling line, with shouts and jokes, and withthe interchange of many gallant acts of rustic love-making between thecoquettish maidens and the awkward swains, they encountered frequentobstacles on the way. It was a part of the frolic for the young men tothrow obstructions in their path, and thus to create surprises. Therewere brooks to be forded. Sometimes large trees were mischievouslyfelled across the trail. Grape-vines were tied across from tree totree, to trip up the passers-by or to sweep off their caps. It was agreat joke for half a dozen young men to play Indian. They would lie inambuscade, and suddenly, as the procession was passing, would raise thewar-whoop, discharge their guns, and raise shouts of laughter in viewof the real or feigned consternation thus excited. 

The maidens would of course shriek. The frightened horses would springaside. The swains would gallantly rush to the rescue of theirsweethearts. When the party had arrived within about a mile of thehouse where the marriage ceremony was to take place, two of the mostdaring riders among the young men who had been previously selected forthe purpose, set out on horseback on a race for "the bottle. " Themaster of the house was expected to be standing at his door, with a jugof whiskey in his hand. This was the prize which the victor in the racewas to seize and take back in triumph to his companions. 

The start was announced by a general Indian yell. The more rough theroad--the more full of logs, stumps, rocks, precipitous hills, andsteep glens, the better. This afforded a better opportunity for thedisplay of intrepidity and horsemanship. It was a veritablesteeple-chase. The victor announced his success by one of those shrill, savage yells, which would almost split the ears of the listener. Grasping the bottle, he returned in triumph. On approaching the party, he again gave forth the Indian war-whoop. 

The bottle or jug was first presented to the bridegroom. He applied themouth of the bottle to his lips, and took a dram of raw whiskey. Hethen handed it to his next of kin, and so the bottle passed through thewhole company. It is to be supposed that the young women did not burntheir throats with very copious drafts of the poisonous fire-water. 

When they arrived at the house, the brief ceremony of marriageimmediately took place, and then came the marriage feast. It was a verysubstantial repast of pork, poultry, wild turkeys, venison, and bear'smeat. There was usually the accompaniment of corn-bread, potatoes, andother vegetables. Great hilarity prevailed on these occasions, withwonderful freedom of manners, coarse jokes, and shouts of laughter. 

The table was often a large slab of timber, hewn out with a broad-axe, and supported by four stakes driven into auger-holes. The tablefurniture consisted of a few pewter dishes, with wooden plates andbowls. There were generally a few pewter spoons, much battered aboutthe edges, but most of the spoons were of horn, homemade. Crockery, soeasily broken, was almost unknown. Table knives were seldom seen. Thedeficiency was made up by the hunting-knives which all the men carriedin sheaths attached to their hunting-shirts. 

After dinner the dancing began. There was invariably some musicalgenius present who could play the fiddle. The dances were what werecalled three or four handed reels, or square sets and jigs. With allsorts of grotesque attitudes, pantomime and athletic displays, therevelry continued until late into the night, and often until the dawnof the morning. As there could be no sleeping accommodations for solarge a company in the cabin of but one room, the guests made up forsleep in merriment. 

The bridal party stole away in the midst of the uproar, one afteranother, up a ladder into the loft or garret above, which was flooredwith loose boards made often of split timber. This furnished a veryrude sleeping apartment. As the revelry below continued, seats beingscarce, every young man offered his lap as a seat for the girls; andthe offer was always promptly accepted; Always, toward morning, someone was sent up into the loft with a bottle of whiskey, to offer thebridegroom and his bride a drink. The familiar name of the bottle was"Black Betty. " One of the witticisms ever prominent on the occasionwas, "Where is Black Betty? I want to kiss her sweet lips. " At somesplendid weddings, where the larder was abundantly stored with game, this feasting and dancing was continued for several days. 

Such, in the main, was the wedding of David Crockett with theIrishman's daughter. In the morning the company dispersed. David alsoand his young bride left, during the day, for his father's cabin. Asthe families of the nuptial party both belonged to the aristocracy ofthe region, quite a splendid marriage reception was held at JohnCrockett's. There were feasting and dancing; and "Black Betty receivedmany a cordial kiss. The bridegroom's heart was full of exultant joy. David writes:

"Having gotten my wife, I thought I was completely made up, and needednothing more in the whole world. "

He soon found his mistake, and awoke to the consciousness that heneeded everything, and had nothing. He had no furniture, no cabin, noland, no money. And he had a wife to support. His only propertyconsisted of a cheap horse. He did not even own a rifle, an article atthat time so indispensable to the backwoodsman. 

After spending a few days at David's father's, the bridegroom and bridereturned to the cabin of her father, the Irishman. Here they found thata wonderful change had taken place in the mother's feelings andconduct. She had concluded to submit good-naturedly to the inevitable. Her "conversational powers" were wonderful. With the most marvellousvolubility of honeyed words she greeted them. She even consented tohave two cows given them, each with a calf. This was the dowry of thebride--her only dowry. David, who had not expected anything, feltexceedingly rich with this herd. 

Near by there was a vacated log cabin with a few acres of land attachedto it. Our boy bridegroom and bride hired the cabin at a very smallrent. But then they had nothing whatever to put into it. They had not abed, or a table or a chair; no cooking utensils; not even a knife or afork. He had no farming tools; not a spade or a hoe. The whole capitalwith which they commenced life consisted of the clothes they had on, afarm-horse, two cows, and two calves. 

In this emergence the good old Quaker, for whom David had worked, cameforward, and loaned him fifteen dollars. In that wilderness, food, thatis game and corn, was cheap. But as nearly everything else had to bebrought from beyond the mountains, all tools and furniture commandedhigh prices. With the fifteen dollars, David and his little wiferepaired to a country store a few miles distant, to furnish their houseand farm. Under these circumstances, the china-closet of the bride musthave been a curiosity. David says, "With this fifteen dollars we fixedup pretty grand, as we thought. "

After a while, in some unexplained way, they succeeded in getting aspinning-wheel. The little wife, says David, "knowed exactly how to useit. She was also a good weaver. Being very industrious, she had, inlittle or no time, a fine web of cloth ready to make up. She was goodat that too, and at almost anything else a woman could do. "

Here this humble family remained for two years. They were both ascontented with their lot as other people are. They were about as welloff as most of their neighbors. Neither of them ever cherished a doubtthat they belonged to the aristocracy of the region. They did not wantfor food or clothing, or shelter, or a warm fireside. They had theirmerry-makings, their dances, and their shooting-matches. Let it beremembered that this was three quarters of a century ago, far away inthe wilds of an almost untamed wilderness. 

Two children were born in this log cabin. David began to feel theresponsibilities of a father who had children to provide for. Both ofthe children were sons. Though David's family was increasing, there wasscarcely any increase of his fortune. He therefore decided that theinterests of his little household demanded that he should move stillfarther back into the almost pathless wilderness, where the land wasnot yet taken up, and where he could get a settler's title to fourhundred acres, simply by rearing a cabin and planting some corn. 

He had one old horse, and a couple of colts, each two years old. Thecolts were broken, as it was called, to the halter; that is, they couldbe led, with light burdens upon their backs, but could not be ridden. Mrs. Crockett mounted the old horse, with her babe in her arms, and thelittle boy, two years old, sitting in front of her, astride the horse'sneck, and occasionally carried on his father's shoulders. Their fewarticles of household goods were fastened upon the backs of the twocolts. David led one, and his kind-hearted father-in-law, who had verygenerously offered to help him move, led the other. Thus this party setout for a journey of two hundred and fifty miles, over unbridgedrivers, across rugged mountains, and through dense forests, whoseIndian trails had seldom if ever been trodden by the feet of white men. 

This was about the year 1806. The whole population of the State thenamounted to but about one hundred thousand. They were generally widelydispersed through the extensive regions of East Tennessee. But very fewemigrants had ventured across the broad and rugged cliffs of theCumberland Mountains into the rich and sunny plains of WesternTennessee. But a few years before, terrible Indian wars desolated theState. The powerful tribes of the Creeks and Cherokees had combined alltheir energies for the utter extermination of the white men, seeking todestroy all their hamlets and scattered cabins. 

At a slow foot-pace the pioneers followed down the wild valley of theHolston River, often with towering mountains rising upon each side ofthem. If they chanced, at nightfall, to approach the lonely hut of asettler, it was especial good fortune, as they thus found shelterprovided, and a fire built, and hospitable entertainment ready forthem. If, however, they were overtaken in the wilderness by darkness, and even a menacing storm, it was a matter of but little moment, andcaused no anxiety. A shelter, of logs and bark, was soon thrown up, with a crackling fire, illuminating the wilderness, blazing before it. A couch, as soft as they had ever been accustomed to, could speedily bespread from the pliant boughs of trees. Upon the pack-colts there werewarm blankets. And during the journey of the day they had enjoyed ampleopportunity to take such game as they might need for their supper andtheir morning breakfast. 

At length they reached the majestic flood of the Tennessee River, andcrossed it, we know not how. Then, directing their steps toward thesetting sun, they pressed on, league after league, and day after day, in toilsome journey, over prairies and through forests and acrossmountain-ridges, for a distance of nearly four hundred miles from theirstarting-place, until they reached a small stream, called MulberryCreek which flows into the Elk River, in what is now Lincoln County. 

At the mouth of Mulberry Creek the adventurous emigrant found hispromised land. It was indeed a beautiful region. The sun shines uponnone more so. The scenery, which, however, probably had but fewattractions for David Crockett's uncultivated eye, was charming. Thesoil was fertile. The streams abounded with fish and waterfowl; andprairie and forest were stocked with game. No family need suffer fromhunger here, if the husband had a rifle and knew how to use it. A fewhours' labor would rear a cabin which would shut out wind and rain aseffectually as the gorgeous walls of Windsor or Versailles. 

No jets of gas or gleam of wax candles ever illumined an apartment morebrilliantly than the flashing blaze of the wood fire. And though therefectories of the Palais Royal may furnish more scientific cookerythan the emigrant's hut, they cannot furnish fatter turkeys, or moretender venison, or more delicious cuts from the buffalo and the bearthan are often found browning before the coals of the log cabin. Andwhen we take into consideration the voracious appetites engendered inthose wilds, we shall see that the emigrant needed not to look withenvy upon the luxuriantly spread tables of Paris or New York. 

Upon the crystal banks of the Mulberry River, David, aided by hisfather-in-law, reared his log cabin. It is a remote and uncultivatedregion even now. Then it was an almost unbroken wilderness, the axe ofthe settler having rarely disturbed its solitude. 

A suitable spot for the cabin was selected, and a space of aboutfifteen feet by twenty feet was marked out and smoothed down for thefloor. There was no cellar. Trees near by, of straight trunks, werefelled and trimmed, and cut into logs of suitable length. These werepiled one above another, in such a way as to enclose the space, andwere held in their place by being notched at the corners. Rough boardswere made for the roof by splitting straight-grained logs about fourfeet long. 

The door was made by cutting or sawing the logs on one side of the hut, about three feet in width. This opening was secured by upright piecesof timber pinned to the end of the logs. A similar opening was left inthe end for the chimney, which was built of logs outside of the hut. The back and jambs of the fireplace was of stone. A hole about two feetsquare constituted the window. Frequently the floor was the smooth, solid earth. A split slab supported by sticks driven into auger-holes, formed a table. A few three-legged stools supplied the place of chairs. Some wooden pins, driven into holes bored in the logs, supportedshelves. A bedstead was framed by a network of poles in one corner. 

Such was the home which David and his kind father reared in a few days. It will be perceived that it was but little in advance of the wigwam ofthe Indian. Still it afforded a comfortable shelter for men, women, andchildren who had no aspirations above a mere animal life; who thoughtonly of warmth, food, and clothing; who had no conception ofintellectual, moral, or religious cravings. 

The kind-hearted father-in-law, who had accompanied his children onfoot upon this long journey, that he might see them settled in theirown home, now bade them adieu, and retraced the forest trails back tohis own far-distant cabin. A man who could develop, unostentatiously, such generosity and such self-sacrifice, must have possessed some rarevirtues. We regret our inability to record the name of one who thuscommands our esteem and affection. 

In this humble home, David Crockett and his family resided two years. He appears to have taken very little interest in the improvement of hishomestead. It must be admitted that Crockett belonged to the class ofwhat is called loafers. He was a sort of Rip Van Winkle. The forest andthe mountain stream had great charms for him. He loved to wander inbusy idleness all the day, with fishing-rod and rifle; and he wouldoften return at night with a very ample supply of game. He would thenlounge about his hut, tanning deerskins for moccasins and breeches, performing other little jobs, and entirely neglecting all endeavors toimprove his farm, or to add to the appearance or comfort of themiserable shanty which he called his home. 

He had an active mind, and a very singular command of the language oflow, illiterate life, and especially of backwoodman's slang. Though notexactly a vain man, his self-confidence was imperturbable, and therewas perhaps not an individual in the world to whom he looked up as inany sense his superior. In hunting, his skill became very remarkable, and few, even of the best marksmen, could throw the bullet with moreunerring aim. 

At the close of two years of this listless, solitary life, Crockett, without any assigned reason, probably influenced only by that vagrancyof spirit which had taken entire possession of the man, made anothermove. Abandoning his crumbling shanty and untilled fields, he directedhis steps eastwardly through the forest, a distance of about fortymiles, to what is now Franklin County. Here he reared another hut, onthe banks of a little stream called Bear's Creek. This location wasabout ten miles below the present hamlet of Winchester. 

An event now took place which changed the whole current of DavidCrockett's life, leading him from his lonely cabin and the peacefulscenes of a hunter's life to the field of battle, and to all the crueland demoralizing influences of horrid war. 

For many years there had been peace with the Indians in all thatregion. But unprincipled and vagabond white men, whom no law in thewilderness could restrain, were ever plundering them, insulting them, and wantonly shooting them down on the slightest provocation. Theconstituted authorities deplored this state of things, but could nomore prevent it than the restraints of justice can prevent robberiesand assassinations in London or New York. 

The Indians were disposed to be friendly. There can be no questionthat, but for these unendurable outrages, inflicted upon them by vileand fiend-like men, many of whom had fled from the avenging arm of law, peace between the white man and the red man would have remainedundisturbed. In the extreme southern region of Alabama, near thejunction of the Alabama River with the almost equally majesticTombeckbee River, there had been erected, several years before, for theprotection of the emigrants, a fort called Mimms. It consisted ofseveral strong log huts, surrounded by palisades which enclosed severalacres. A strongly barred gate afforded entrance to the area within. Loop-holes were cut through the palisades, just sufficiently large toallow the barrel of a musket to be thrust through, and aim to be takenat any approaching foe. 

The space within was sufficient to accommodate several families, whowere thus united for mutual protection. Their horses and other cattlecould be driven within the enclosure at night. In case of a generalalarm, the pioneers, occupying huts scattered through the region formiles around, could assemble in the fort. Their corn-fields wereoutside, to cultivate which, even in times of war, they could resort inarmed bands, setting a watch to give warning of any signs of danger. 

The fort was in the middle of a small and fertile prairie. Theforest-trees were cut down around, and every obstacle removed whichcould conceal the approach of a foe or protect him from the fire of thegarrison. The long-continued peace had caused vigilance to slumber. Anumber of families resided in the fort, unapprehensive of danger. 

One evening, a negro boy, who had been out into the forest at somedistance from the fort in search of cattle, came back saying that hesaw far in the distance quite a number of Indians, apparently armedwarriors. As it was known that the Creek Indians had been greatlyexasperated by recent outrages inflicted upon them, this intelligencecreated some anxiety. The gate was carefully closed. A guard was setthrough the night, and some slight preparations were made to repel anassault, should one be made. 

Thus several days were passed, and there was no attack, and no signs ofIndians being near. The general impression was that the timid negro boywas the victim of his own fears. Many jokes were perpetrated at hisexpense. With wonted carelessness, all precautions were forgotten, andthe men sallied thoughtlessly forth to disperse through the fields intheir labors. 

But after several days, the boy was again sent out into the woods uponthe same errand as before. He was a timid little fellow, and had agreat dread of the Indian. Tremblingly and cautiously he threaded thepaths of the forest for several miles, keeping a vigilant lookout forany signs of the savage foe, when his eye fell upon a sight whichappalled him. At but a short distance, as he stood concealed by thethickets through which he was moving, he saw several hundred Indianwarriors, plumed and painted, and armed to the teeth. They had probablyjust broken up from a council, and were moving about among the trees. His fears magnified their numbers to thousands. 

Terror-stricken, he turned for the fort, and with almost the fleetnessof a deer entered the gate with his tidings. Even his black face waspallid with fright, as he breathlessly told his story. "The Indians, "said he, "were as many, and as close together as the trees. There werethousands. " The alarm was sounded in the garrison. All the outsiderswere called in. The sun shone serenely, the gentle breeze swept overthe fertile prairie; not a sight was to be seen but what was peaceful, not a sound came from the forest but the songs of birds. 

It was generally believed that the silly, cowardly boy had given afalse alarm. They cross-examined him. He was so frightened that hecould not tell a straight story. The men, indignant at being thus asecond time duped, as they supposed, actually tied the poor boy to thewhipping-post and commenced whipping him. But a few lashes had lefttheir bloody marks upon his back when the uplifted arm of theexecutioner was arrested. 

The awful Indian war-whoop, the precursor of blood and flame andtorture, which even the boldest heart could seldom hear without terror, burst as it were simultaneously from a hundred warrior lips. The warysavages had provided themselves with sharpened sticks. Rending theskies with their yells, they rushed forward from the gloom of the woodsupon the totally unprovided garrison, and very speedily plugged up theloop-holes, so that not a musket could be discharged through them. 

Then with their hatchets they commenced cutting down the palisades. Thebewilderment and consternation within was indescribable. A few of theassailants hewing at the barricades were shot down, but othersinstantly took their places. Soon a breach was cut through, and thehowling warriors like maddened demons rushed in. There was no mercyshown. The gleaming tomahawk, wielded by hundreds of brawny arms, expeditiously did its work. Men, women, and children wereindiscriminately cut down and scalped. It was an awful scene ofbutchery. Scarcely an individual escaped. 

One athletic boy, after having seen his father, mother, four sisters, and four brothers tomahawked and scalped, pursued by the savages, withfrantic energy succeeded in leaping the palisades. Several Indians gavechase. He rushed for the woods. They hotly pursued. He reached asluggish stream, upon the shore of which, half-imbedded in sand andwater, there was a mouldering log, which he chanced to know was hollowbeneath. He had but just time to slip into this retreat, when thebaffled Indians came up. They actually walked over the log in theirunavailing search for him. Here he remained until night, when he stolefrom his hiding-place, and in safety reached Fort Montgomery, which wasdistant about two miles from Fort Mimms. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Soldier Life. 

War with the Creeks. --Patriotism of Crockett. --Remonstrances of hisWife. --Enlistment. --The Rendezvous. --Adventure of theScouts. --Friendlier Indians. --A March through the Forest. --PicturesqueScene. --The Midnight Alarm. --March by Moon-light. --Chagrin ofCrockett. --Advance into Alabama. --War's Desolations. --IndianStoicism. --Anecdotes of Andrew Jackson. --Battles, Carnage, and Woe. 

The awful massacre at Fort Mimms, by the Creek Indians, summoned, aswith a trumpet peal, the whole region to war. David Crockett hadlistened eagerly to stories of Indian warfare in former years, and ashe listened to the tales of midnight conflagration and slaughter, hisnaturally peaceful spirit had no yearnings for the renewal of suchsanguinary scenes. Crockett was not a quarrelsome man. He was not fondof brawls and fighting. Nothing in his life had thus far occurred totest his courage. Though there was great excitement to be found inhunting, there was but little if any danger. The deer and all smallergame were harmless. And even the grizzly bear had but few terrors for amarksman who, with unerring aim, could strike him with the deadlybullet at the distance of many rods. 

But the massacre at Fort Mimms roused a new spirit in David Crockett. He perceived at once, that unless the savages were speedily quelled, they would ravage the whole region; and that his family as well as thatof every other pioneer must inevitably perish. It was manifest to himthat every man was bound immediately to take arms for the generaldefence. In a few days a summons was issued for every able-bodied manin all that region to repair to Winchester, which, as we have said, wasa small cluster of houses about ten miles from Crockett's cabin. 

When he informed his wife of his intention, her womanly heart wasappalled at the thought of being left alone and unprotected in the vastwilderness. She was at a distance of hundreds of miles from all herconnections. She had no neighbors near. Her children were too young tobe of any service to her. If the dreadful Indians should attack them, she had no one to look to for protection. If anything should happen tohim in battle so that he should not return, they must all perish ofstarvation. These obvious considerations she urged with many tears. 

"It was mighty hard, " writes Crockett, "to go against such arguments asthese. But my countrymen had been murdered, and I knew that the nextthing would be that the Indians would be scalping the women andchildren all about there, if we didn't put a stop to it. I reasoned thecase with her as well as I could, and told her that if every man wouldwait till his wife got willing for him to go to war, there would be nofighting done until we all should be killed in our own houses; that asI was as able to go as any man in the world, and that I believed it wasa duty I owed to my country. Whether she was satisfied with thisreasoning or not she did not tell me, but seeing I was bent on it, allshe did was to cry a little, and turn about to her work. "

David Crockett hastened to Winchester. There was a large gatheringthere from all the hamlets and cabins for many miles around. Theexcitement was intense. The nation of Creek Indians was a very powerfulone, and in intelligence and military skill far in advance of most ofthe Indian tribes. Mr. Crockett was one of the first to volunteer toform a company to serve for sixty days, under Captain Jones, whosubsequently was a member of Congress from Tennessee. In a week thewhole company was organized, and commenced its march to join others forthe invasion of the Creek country. It was thought that by carrying thewar directly into the Indian towns, their warriors might be detained athome to protect their wives and children, and could thus be preventedfrom carrying desolation into the settlements of the whites. 

In the mean time David Crockett revisited his humble home, where hisgood but anxious and afflicted wife fitted him out as well as she couldfor the campaign. David was not a man of sentiment and was neverdisposed to contemplate the possibility of failure in any of his plans. With a light heart he bade adieu to his wife and his children, andmounting his horse, set out for his two months' absence to hunt up andshoot the Indians. He took only the amount of clothing he wore, as hewished to be entirely unencumbered when he should meet the sinewy andathletic foe on the battle-field. 

This company, of about one hundred mounted men, commenced its march foran appointed rendezvous called Beatty's Spring. Here they encamped forseveral days, waiting the arrival of other companies from distantquarters. Ere long there was collected quite an imposing army ofthirteen hundred men, all on horseback, and all hardy backwoodsmen, armed with the deadly rifle. A more determined set of men was perhapsnever assembled. While they were thus gathering from far and near, andmaking all preparations to burst upon the foe in one of war's mostterrific tempests, Major Gibson came, and wanted a few men, of triedsagacity and hardihood, to accompany him on a reconnoitring tour acrossthe Tennessee River, down through the wilderness, into the country ofthe Creek Indians. It was a very hazardous enterprise. The regionswarmed with savages. They were very vigilant. They were greatly andjustly exasperated. If the reconnoitring party were captured, thecertain doom of its members would be death by the most dreadfultortures. 

Captain Jones pointed out David Crockett as one of the most suitablemen for this enterprise. Crockett unhesitatingly consented to go, and, by permission, chose a companion by the name of George Russel, a youngman whose courage and sagacity were far in advance of his years. 

"I called him up, " writes Crockett, "but Major Gibson said he thoughthe hadn't beard enough to please him; he wanted men, not boys. I mustconfess I was a little nettled at this; for I know'd George Russel, andI know'd there was no mistake in him; and I didn't think that courageought to be measured by the beard, for fear a goat would have thepreference over a man. I told the Major he was on the wrong scent; thatRussel could go as far as he could, and I must have him along. He saw Iwas a little wrathy, and said I had the best chance of knowing, andagreed that it should be as I wanted it. "

The heroic little band, thirteen in number, well armed and wellmounted, set out early in the morning on their perilous enterprise. They crossed the Tennessee River, and directing their steps south, through a region almost entirely uninhabited by white men, journeyedcautiously along, keeping themselves concealed as much as possible inthe fastnesses of the forest. They crossed the river, at what wascalled Ditto's Landing, and advancing about seven miles beyond, found avery secluded spot, one of nature's hiding-places, where they took uptheir encampment for the night. 

Here they chanced to come across a man by the name of John Haynes, whofor several years had been a trader among the Indians. He wasthoroughly acquainted with the whole region about to be traversed, andconsented to act as a guide. For the next day's march, instructed bytheir guide, the party divided into two bands, following along twoobscure trails, which came together again after winding through thewilderness a distance of about twenty miles. Major Gibson led a partyof seven, and David Crockett the other party of six. 

The Cherokee Indians, a neighboring nation, powerful and warlike, werenot in alliance with the Creeks in this war. They were, at that time, in general friendly to the whites. Many of their warriors were eveninduced to join the whites and march under their banners. On each ofthe trails that day to be passed over, there was the lodge of aCherokee Indian. Both of them were friendly. Each of the parties was tocollect all the information possible from these Indians, and then tomeet where the trails came together again. 

When Crockett arrived at the wigwam of the Indian he met with a veryfriendly reception. He also found there a half-breed Cherokee, by thename of Jack Thompson. This man, of savage birth and training, but withthe white man's blood in his veins, offered to join the reconnoitringparty. He however was not ready just then to set out, but in a fewhours would follow and overtake the band at its night's encampment. 

It was not safe to encamp directly upon the trail, lest some Creekwar-party should be passing along, and should discover them. It wasnecessary to seek concealment where even the prying eyes of the savagewould with difficulty search them out. The cry of the shriek-owl isexceedingly shrill, and can be heard at a great distance. A particularspot on the trail was designated, near which Crockett would seek hissecret encampment. When Jack Thompson reached that spot, he was toimitate the cry of the owl. Crockett would respond, and thus guide theIndian to his retreat. As night approached, Crockett, with his party, found a deep and dark ravine, where, encircled by almost impenetrablethickets, he hid his men and the horses. No campfires could be built. It was ten o'clock in the night when, in the distance, he heard thesignal shriek of the owl, a cry too common to arrest the attention ofany Indian bands who might be in the vicinity. Jack, guided by aresponsive cry, soon found the place of concealment, and there theparty remained through the night. 

The next morning after breakfast they set out to join Major Gibson andhis band; but, in some way, they had lost track of him, and he couldnot be found. Some were alarmed, as, in so small a band, they wereentering the domains of their powerful foe. Crockett taunted them withtheir fears; and indeed fear kept them together. The party consistednow of seven, including the Indian guide. Most of them determined topress on. The two or three who were in favor of going back dared notseparate from the rest. 

At the distance of about twenty miles, Jack Thompson told them thatthere was a village of friendly Cherokee Indians. As he was leadingthem through obscure trails toward that place, they came across the hutof a white man, by the name of Radcliff, who had married a Creek woman, and had been adopted into their tribe. The man had two nearly grown-upboys, stout, burly fellows, half-breeds by birth, and more than halfsavage in character and training. The old man's cabin was slightlyabove the usual style of Indian wigwams. It was in a region of uttersolitude. 

There Radcliff had taught his barbarian boys some of the arts ofindustry. He had cleared quite a space of ground around his hut, andwas raising a supply of corn and potatoes ample for his family wants. With these vegetable productions, and with the game which the riflesupplied them, they lived in abundance, and free from most of thosecares which agitate a higher civilization. 

But the old man was quite agitated in receiving and entertaining hisunwelcome guests. He was an adopted Creek, and ought to be in sympathywith his nation. He was bound to regard the white men as his enemies, to withhold from them all important information, and to deliver them upto the Creeks if possible. Should he be suspected of sympathy with thewhite men, the tomahawk of the savage would soon cleave his brain. Heentreated Crockett immediately to leave him. 

"Only an hour ago, " said he, "there were ten Creek warriors here, allon horseback, and painted and armed. Should they come back and discoveryou here, they would certainly kill you all, and put me and my familyto death also. "

But Crockett, instead of being alarmed by this intelligence, was onlyanimated by it. He assured Radcliff that he could desire no better luckthan to meet a dozen Indians on the war-path. He considered his partyquite strong enough to meet, at any time, three times their number. Evening was approaching, and the full moon, in cloudless brilliance, was rising over the forest, flooding the whole landscape withextraordinary splendor. After feeding their horses abundantly andfeasting themselves from the fat larder of their host, they saddledtheir steeds and resumed their journey by moonlight. 

The trail still led through the silent forest. It was, as usual, verynarrow, so that the horses walked along in single file. As there wasdanger of falling into an ambush, not a word was spoken, and, asnoiselessly as possible, they moved onward, every eye on the eagerlookout. They had been thus riding along when Crockett, in the advance, heard the noise of some animals or persons apparently approaching. At agiven signal, instantly the whole party stopped. Every man grasped hisrifle, ready in case of need, to leap from his horse, and select thelargest tree near him as a rampart for the battle. 

All solicitude was, however, soon dispelled by seeing simply twopersons advancing along the trail on Indian ponies. They proved to betwo negro slaves who had been captured by the Indians, and who, havingescaped, were endeavoring to make their way back to their formermaster. They were brothers, and being both very stout men, and able tospeak the Indian as well as the English language, were esteemed quite apowerful reinforcement to the Crockett party. 

They rode quietly along another hour and a half, when toward midnightthey saw in the distance the gleam of camp-fires, and heard shouts ofmerriment and revelry. They knew that these must come from the camp ofthe friendly Cherokees, to which their Indian guide, Jack Thompson, wasleading them. Soon a spectacle of wonderful picturesque beauty wasopened to their view. 

Upon the banks of a beautiful mountain stream there was a wide plateau, carpeted with the renowned blue-grass, as verdant and soft as could befound in any gentleman's park. There was no underbrush. The trees weretwo or three yards from each other, composing a luxuriant overhangingcanopy of green leaves, more beautiful than art could possibly create. Beneath this charming grove, and illumined by the moonshine which, ingolden tracery, pierced the foliage, there were six or eight Indianlodges scattered about. 

An immense bonfire was crackling and blazing, throwing its rays far andwide through the forest. Moving around, in various engagements andsports, were about forty men, women, and children, in the fringed, plumed, and brilliantly colored attire of which the Indians were sofond. Quite a number of them, with bows and arrows, were shooting at amark, which was made perfectly distinct by the blaze of pitch-pineknots, a light which no flame of candle or gas could outvie. It was ascene of sublimity and beauty, of peace and loveliness, which no artistcould adequately transfer to canvas. 

The Cherokees received very cordially the newcomers, took care of theirhorses, and introduced them to their sports. Many of the Indians hadguns, but powder and bullets were too precious to be expended in mereamusements. Indeed, the Indians were so careful of their ammunition, that they rarely put more than half as much powder into a charge as awhite man used. They endeavored to make up for the deficiency bycreeping nearer to their prey. 

Crockett and his men joined these barbarians, merry in their pleasantsports. Such are the joys of peace, so different from the miseries ofdemoniac war. At length the festivities were closed, and all began toprepare to retire to sleep. 

The Cherokees were neutral in the war between the whites and the CreekIndians. It was very important for them to maintain this neutralitystrictly, that they might not draw down upon themselves the vengeanceof either party. Some of the Cherokees now began to feel anxious lest awar-party of the Creeks should come along and find them entertaining awar-party of whites, who were entering their country as spies. Theytherefore held an interview with one of the negroes, and requested himto inform Mr. Crockett that should a war-party come and find his men inthe Cherokee village, not only would they put all the white men todeath, but there would be also the indiscriminate massacre of all themen, women, and children in the Cherokee lodges. 

Crockett, wrapped in his blanket, was half asleep when this message wasbrought to him. Raising his head, he said to the negro, in terms rathersavoring of the spirit of the braggadocio than that of a high-mindedand sympathetic man:

"Tell the Cherokees that I will keep a sharp lookout, and if a singleCreek comes near the camp to-night, I will carry the skin of his headhome to make me a moccasin. "

When this answer was reported to the Indians they laughed aloud anddispersed. It was not at all improbable that there might be an alarmbefore morning. The horses were therefore, after being well fed, tiedup with their saddles upon them, that they might be instantly mountedin case of emergence. They all slept, also, with their arms in theirhands. 

Just as Crockett was again falling into a doze, a very shrill Indianyell was heard in the forest, the yell of alarm. Every man, white andred, was instantly upon his feet. An Indian runner soon made hisappearance, with the tidings that more than a thousand Creek warriorshad, that day, crossed the Coosa River, but a few leagues south ofthem, at what was called the Ten Islands, and were on the march toattack an American force, which, under General Jackson, was assemblingon another portion of the Coosa River. 

The friendly Indians were so greatly alarmed that they immediatelyfled. Crockett felt bound to carry back this intelligence as speedilyas possible to the headquarters from which he had come. He hadtraversed a distance of about sixty miles in a southerly direction. They returned, by the same route over which they had passed. But theyfound that a general alarm had pervaded the country, Radcliff and hisfamily, abandoning everything, had fled, they knew not where. When theyreached the Cherokee town of which we have before spoken, not a singleIndian was to be seen. Their fires were still burning, which showed theprecipitancy with which they had taken flight. This rather alarmed theparty of the whites. They feared that the Indian warriors wereassembling from all quarters, at some secret rendezvous, and would soonfall upon them in overwhelming numbers. They therefore did not ventureto replenish the Indian fires and lie down by the warmth of them, butpushed rapidly on their way. 

It chanced to be a serene, moonlight night. The trail through theforest, which the Indian's foot for countless generations had troddensmooth, illumined by the soft rays of the moon, was exceedinglybeautiful. They travelled in single file, every nerve at its extremetension in anticipation of falling into some ambush. Before morningthey had accomplished about thirty miles. In the grey dawn they againreached Mr. Brown's. Here they found grazing for their horses, and cornand game for them selves. 

Horses and riders were equally fatigued. The weary adventurers were inno mood for talking. After dozing for an hour or two, they again setout, and about noon reached the general rendezvous, from which they haddeparted but a few days before. Here Crockett was not a littledisappointed in the reception he encountered. He was a young, rawbackwoodsman, nearly on a level with the ordinary savage. He wasexceedingly illiterate, and ignorant. And yet he had the most amazingself-confidence, with not a particle of reverence for any man, whateverhis rank or culture. He thought no one his superior. Colonel Coffeepaid very little respect to his vainglorious report. In the followingcharacteristic strain Crockett comments on the event:

"He didn't seem to mind my report a bit. This raised my dander higherthan ever. But I know'd that I had to be on my best behavior, and so Ikept it all to myself; though I was so mad that I was burning insidelike a tar-kiln, and I wonder that the smoke had not been pouring outof me at all points. The next day, Major Gibson got in. He brought aworse tale than I had, though he stated the same facts as far as Iwent. This seemed to put our Colonel all in a fidget; and it convincedme clearly of one of the hateful ways of the world. When I made myreport I was not believed, because I was no officer. I was no greatman, but just a poor soldier. But when the same thing was reported byMajor Gibson, why then it was all true as preaching, and the Colonelbelieved it every word. "

There was indeed cause for alarm. Many of the Indian chiefs displayedmilitary ability of a very high order. Our officers were frequentlyoutgeneralled by their savage antagonists. This was so signally thecase that the Indians frequently amused themselves in laughing to scornthe folly of the white men. Every able-bodied man was called to work inthrowing up breastworks. A line of ramparts was speedily constructed, nearly a quarter of a mile in circuit. An express was sent toFayetteville, where General Jackson was assembling an army, to summonhim to the rescue. With characteristic energy he rushed forward, byforced marches day and night, until his troops stood, with blisteredfeet, behind the newly erected ramparts. 

They felt now safe from attack by the Indians. An expedition of eighthundred volunteers, of which Crockett was one, was fitted out torecross the Tennessee River, and marching by the way of Huntsville, toattack the Indians from an unexpected quarter. This movement involved adouble crossing of the Tennessee. They pressed rapidly along thenorthern bank of this majestic stream, about forty or fifty miles, duewest, until they came to a point where the stream expands into a widthof nearly two miles. This place was called Muscle Shoals. The rivercould here be forded, though the bottom was exceedingly rough. The menwere all mounted. Several horses got their feet so entangled in thecrevices of the rocks that they could not be disengaged, and theyperished there. The men, thus dismounted, were compelled to perform therest of the campaign on foot. 

A hundred miles south of this point, in the State of Alabama, theIndians had a large village, called Black Warrior. The lodges of theIndians were spread over the ground where the city of Tuscaloosa nowstands. The wary Indians kept their scouts out in all directions. Therunners conveyed to the warriors prompt warning of the approach oftheir foes. These Indians were quite in advance of the northern tribes. Their lodges were full as comfortable as the log huts of the pioneers, and in their interior arrangements more tasteful. The buildings werequite numerous. Upon many of them much labor had been expended. Luxuriant corn-fields spread widely around, and in well-cultivatedgardens they raised beans and other vegetables in considerableabundance. 

The hungry army found a good supply of dried beans for themselves, andcarefully housed corn for their horses. They feasted themselves, loadedtheir pack-horses with corn and beans, applied the torch to everylodge, laying the whole town in ashes, and then commenced theirbackward march. Fresh Indian tracks indicated that many of them hadremained until the last moment of safety. 

The next day the army marched back about fifteen miles to the spotwhere it had held its last encampment. Eight hundred men, on acampaign, consume a vast amount of food. Their meat was all devoured. They had now only corn and beans. The soldiers were living mostly onparched corn. Crockett went to Colonel Coffee, then in command, andstating, very truthfully, that he was an experienced hunter, askedpermission to draw aside from the ranks, and hunt as they marchedalong. The Colonel gave his consent, but warned him to be watchful inthe extreme, lest he should fall into an Indian ambush. 

Crockett was brave, but not reckless. He plunged into the forest, withvigilant gaze piercing the solitary space in all directions. He wasalone, on horseback. He had not gone far when he found a deer justkilled by a noiseless arrow. The animal was but partially skinned, andstill warm and smoking. The deer had certainly been killed by anIndian; and it was equally certain that the savage, seeing hisapproach, had fled. The first thought of Crockett was one of alarm. TheIndian might be hidden behind some one of the gigantic trees, and thenext moment a bullet, from the Indian's rifle, might pierce his heart. 

But a second thought reassured him. The deer had been killed by anarrow. Had the Indian been armed with a rifle, nothing would have beeneasier, as he saw the approach of Crockett in the distance than for himto have concealed himself, and then to have taken such deliberate aimat his victim as to be sure of his death. Mounting the horse whichCrockett rode, the savage might have disappeared in the wildernessbeyond all possibility of pursuit. But this adventure taught Crockettthat he might not enjoy such good luck the next time. Another Indianmight be armed with a rifle, and Crockett, self-confident as he was, could not pretend to be wiser in woodcraft than were the savages. 

Crockett dismounted, took up the body of the deer, laid it upon themane of his horse, in front of the saddle, and remounting, withincreasing vigilance made his way, as rapidly as he could, to the trailalong which the army was advancing. He confesses to some qualms ofconscience as to the right of one hunter thus to steal away the gamekilled by another. 

It was late in the afternoon when he reached the rear. He pressed alongto overtake his own company. The soldiers looked wistfully at thevenison. They offered him almost any price for it. Crockett was bynature a generous man. There was not a mean hair in his head. Thisgenerosity was one of the virtues which gave him so many friends. Rather boastfully, and yet it must be admitted truthfully, he writes, in reference to this adventure:

"I could have sold it for almost any price I would have asked. But thiswasn't my rule, neither in peace nor war. Whenever I had anything andsaw a fellow-being suffering, I was more anxious to relieve him than tobenefit myself. And this is one of the true secrets of my being a poorman to the present day. But it is my way. And while it has often leftme with an empty purse, yet it has never left my heart empty ofconsolations which money couldn't buy; the consolation of havingsometimes fed the hungry and covered the naked. I gave all my deer awayexcept a small part, which I kept for myself, and just sufficient tomake a good supper for my mess. "

The next day, in their march, they came upon a drove of swine, whichbelonged to a Cherokee farmer. The whites were as little disposed aswere the Indians, in this war, to pay any respect to private property. Hundreds of rifles were aimed at the poor pigs, and their squealingindicated that they had a very hard time of it. The army, in itsencampment that night, feasted very joyously upon fresh pork. Thisthrifty Cherokee was also the possessor of a milch cow. The animal wasspeedily slaughtered and devoured. 

They soon came upon another detachment of the army, and uniting, marched to Ten Islands, on the Coosa River, where they established afort, which they called Fort Strother, as a depot for provisions andammunition. They were here not far from the centre of the countryinhabited by the hostile Indians. This fort stood on the left bank ofthe river, in what is now St. Clair County, Alabama. It was a regionbut little explored, and the whites had but little acquaintance withthe nature of the country around them, or with the places occupied bythe Indians. Some scouts, from the friendly Creeks, brought theintelligence that, at the distance of about eight miles from the fort, there was an Indian town, where a large party of warriors was assembledin preparation for some secret expedition. A large and select band wasimmediately dispatched, on horseback, to attack them by surprise. Twofriendly Creeks led them with Indian sagacity through circuitoustrails. Stealthily they approached the town, and dividing their force, marched on each side so as to encircle it completely. Aided by theirCreek guides, this important movement was accomplished without thewarriors discovering their approach. The number of the whites was sogreat that they were enabled to surround the town with so continuous aline that escape was impossible for any enclosed within that fearfulbarrier of loaded rifles wielded by unerring marksmen. Closer and morecompactly the fatal line was drawn. These movements were accomplishedin the dim morning twilight. 

All being ready, Captain Hammond, and a few rangers, were sent forwardto show themselves, and to bring on the fight. The moment the warriorscaught sight of them, one general war-whoop rose from every throat. Grasping their rifles, they rushed headlong upon the rangers, whoretired before them. They soon reached one portion of the compact line, and were received with a terrible fire, which struck many of them downin instant death. The troops then closed rapidly upon the doomedIndians, and from the north, the south, the east, and the west, theywere assailed by a deadly storm of bullets. 

Almost immediately the Indians saw that they were lost. There was nopossibility of escape. This was alike manifest to every one, towarrior, squaw, and pappoose. All surrendered themselves to despair. The warriors threw down their weapons, in sign of surrender. Somerushed into the lodges. Some rushed toward the soldiers, stretching outtheir unarmed hands in supplication for life. The women in particular, panic-stricken, ran to the soldiers, clasped them about the knees, andlooked up into their faces with piteous supplications for life. Crockett writes:

"I saw seven squaws have hold of one man. So I hollered out theScriptures was fulfilling; that there was seven women holding to oneman's coat-tail. But I believe it was a hunting-shirt all the time. Wetook them all prisoners that came out to us in this way. "

Forty-six warriors, by count, threw down their arms in token ofsurrender, and ran into one of the large houses. A band of soldierspursued them, with the apparent intent of shooting them down. It wasconsidered rare sport to shoot an Indian. A woman came to the door, bowand arrow in hand. Fixing the arrow upon the string, she drew the bowwith all the strength of her muscular arm, and let the arrow fly intothe midst of the approaching foe. It nearly passed through the body ofLieutenant Moore, killing him instantly. The woman made no attempt toevade the penalty which she knew weald follow this act. In an instanttwenty bullets pierced her body, and she fell dead at the door of thehouse. 

The infuriate soldiers rushed in and shot the defenceless warriorsmercilessly, until every one was fatally wounded or dead. They then setthe house on fire and burned it up, with the forty-six warriors in it. It mattered not to them whether the flames consumed the flesh of theliving or of the dead. 

There was something very remarkable in the stoicism which the Indiansever manifested. There was a bright-looking little Indian boy, not morethan twelve years of age, whose arm was shattered by one bullet and histhigh-bone by another. Thus terribly wounded, the poor child crept fromthe flames of the burning house. There was no pity in that awful hourto come to his relief. The heat was so intense that his almost nakedbody could be seen blistering and frying by the fire. The heroic boy, striving in vain to crawl along, was literally roasted alive; and yethe did not utter an audible groan. 

The slaughter was awful. But five of the Americans were killed. Onehundred and eighty-six of the Indians were either killed or takenprisoners. The party returned with their captives the same day to FortStrother. The army had so far consumed its food that it was placed onhalf rations. The next day a party was sent back to the smoulderingtown to see if any food could be found. Even these hardy pioneers wereshocked at the awful spectacle which was presented. The whole place wasin ruins. The half-burned bodies of the dead, in awful mutilation, werescattered around. Demoniac war had performed one of its most fiend-likedeeds. 

On this bloody field an Indian babe was found clinging to the bosom ofits dead mother. Jackson urged some of the Indian women who werecaptives to give it nourishment. They replied:

"All the child's friends are killed. There is no one to care for thehelpless babe. It is much better that it should die. "

Jackson took the child under his own care, ordered it to be conveyed tohis tent, nursed it with sugar and water, took it eventually with himto the Hermitage, and brought it up as his son. He gave the boy thename of Lincoyer. He grew up a finely formed young man, and died ofconsumption at the age of seventeen. 

Jackson was a very stern man. The appeals of pity could seldom move hisheart. Still there were traits of heroism which marked his character. On the return march, a half-starved soldier came to Jackson with apiteous story of his famished condition. Jackson drew from his pocket ahandful of acorns, and presenting a portion to the man, said:

"This is all the fare I have. I will share it with you. "

Beneath one of the houses was found quite a large cellar, well storedwith potatoes. These were eagerly seized. All the other stores of theIndians the insatiable flames had consumed. Starvation now began tothreaten the army. The sparsely settled country afforded no scope forforage. There were no herds of cattle, no well-replenished magazinesnear at hand. Neither was there game enough in the spreading wildernessto supply so many hungry mouths. The troops were compelled to eat eventhe very hides of the cattle whom they had driven before them, and whowere now all slaughtered. 

While in this forlorn condition, awaiting the arrival of food, andkeeping very vigilant guard against surprise, one night an Indian, cautiously approaching from the forest, shouted out that he wished tosee General Jackson, for he had important information to communicate. He was conducted to the General's tent. The soldiers knew not the newswhich he brought. But immediately the beat of drums summoned all toarms. In less than an hour a strong party of cavalry and infantry, inthe darkness, were on the march. General Andrew Jackson was one of themost energetic of men. The troops crossed the Coosa River to theeastern shore, and as rapidly as possible pressed forward in asoutherly direction toward Talladega, which was distant about thirtymiles. Gradually the rumor spread through the ranks that GeneralJackson had received the following intelligence: At Talladega there wasa pretty strong fort, occupied by friendly Indians. They had resolutelyrefused to take part in the war against the Americans. Eleven hundredhostile warriors, of the Creek nation, marched upon the fort, encampedbefore it, and sent word to the friendly Indians within the palisades, that if they did not come out and join them in an expedition againstthe whites, they would utterly demolish the fort and take all theirprovisions and ammunition. The Creeks were in sufficient strength toaccomplish their threat. 

The friendly Indians asked for three days to consider the proposition. They stated that if, at the end of this time, they did not come out tojoin them in an expedition against the whites, they would surrender thefort. The request was granted. Instantly an Indian runner wasdispatched to inform General Jackson, at Fort Strother, of their dangerand to entreat him to come to their aid. Hence the sudden movement. 

The Creek warriors had their scouts out, carefully watching, and werespeedily apprised of the approach of General Jackson's band. Immediately they sent word into the fort, to the friendly Indiansthere, that the American soldiers were coming, with many fine horses, and richly stored with guns, blankets, powder, bullets, and almosteverything else desirable. They promised that if the Indians would comeout from the fort, and help them attack and conquer the whites, theywould divide the rich plunder with them. They assured them that, bythus uniting, they could easily gain the victory over the whites, whowere the deadly foes of their whole race. The appeal was not respondedto. 

A little south of the fort there was a stream, which, in its circuitouscourse, partially encircled it. The bank was high, leaving a slightlevel space or meadow between it and the stream. Here the hostileIndians were encamped, and concealed from any approaches from thenorth. It was at midnight, on the 7th of December, that Jackson set outon this expedition. He had with him, for the occasion, a very strongforce, consisting of twelve hundred infantry and eight hundred cavalry. 

When they reached the fort, the army divided, passing on each side, andagain uniting beyond, as they approached the concealed encampment ofthe enemy. While passing the fort, the friendly Indians clambered thepalisades, and shouted out joyously to the soldiers "How-de-do, brother--how-de-do, brother?"

The lines, meeting beyond the fort, formed for battle. No foe wasvisible. Nearly a thousand warriors, some armed with arrows, but manywith rifles, were hidden, but a few rods before them, beneath thecurving bank, which was fringed with bushes. Major Russel, with a smallparty, was sent cautiously forward to feel for the enemy, and to bringon the battle. He was moving directly into the curve, where aconcentric fire would soon cut down every one of his men. 

The Indians in the fort perceived his danger, and shouted warning tohim. He did not understand their language. They made the most earnestgestures. He did not comprehend their meaning. Two Indians then leapedfrom the fort, and running toward him, seized his horse by the bridle. They made him understand that more than a thousand warriors, with riflein hand and arrows on the string, were hidden, at but a short distancebefore him, ready to assail him with a deadly fire. The account whichCrockett gives of the battle, though neither very graphic nor classic, is worthy of insertion here, as illustrative of the intellectual andmoral traits of that singular man. 

"This brought them to a halt; and about this moment the Indians firedupon them, and came rushing forth like a cloud of Egyptian locusts, andscreaming like all the young devils had been turned loose with the olddevil of all at their head. Russel's company quit their arses and tookinto the fort. Their horses ran up to our line, which was then in view. The warriors then came yelling on, meeting us, and continued till theywere within shot of us, when we fired and killed a considerable numberof them. They broke like a gang of steers, and ran across to the otherline. 

"And so we kept them running, from one line to the other, constantlyunder a heavy fire, till we had killed upwards of four hundred of them. They fought with guns and also with bow and arrows. But at length theymade their escape through a part of our line, which was made up ofdrafted militia, which broke ranks, and they passed. We lost fifteen ofour men, as brave fellows as ever lived or died. We buried them all inone grave, and started back to our fort. But before we got there, twomore of our men died of wounds they had received, making our total lossseventeen good fellows in that battle. "

CHAPTER V. 

Indian Warfare. 

The Army at Fort Strother. --Crockett's Regiment. --Crockett atHome. --His Reenlistment. --Jackson Surprised. --Military Ability of theIndians. --Humiliation of the Creeks. --March to Florida. --Affairs atPensacola. --Capture of the City. --Characteristics of Crockett. --TheWeary March, --Inglorious Expedition. --Murder of TwoIndians. --Adventures at the Island. --The Continued March. --SevereSufferings. --Charge upon the Uninhabited Village. 

The army, upon its return to Fort Strother, found itself still in astarving condition. Though the expedition had been eminently successfulin the destruction of Indian warriors, it had consumed theirprovisions, without affording them any additional supply. The weatherhad become intensely cold. The clothing of the soldiers, from hardusage, had become nearly worn out. The horses were also emaciate andfeeble. There was danger that many of the soldiers must perish fromdestitution and hunger. 

The regiment to which Crockett belonged had enlisted for sixty days. Their time had long since expired. The officers proposed to Jacksonthat they and their soldiers might be permitted to return to theirhomes, promising that they would immediately re-enlist after havingobtained fresh horses and fresh clothing. Andrew Jackson was by natureone of the most unyielding of men. His will was law, and must beobeyed, right or wrong. He was at that time one of the most profane ofmen. He swore by all that was sacred that they should not go; that thedeparture of so many of the men would endanger the possession of thefort and the lives of the remaining soldiers. There were many of thesoldiers in the same condition, whose term of service had expired. Theyfelt that they were free and enlightened Americans, and resented theidea of being thus enslaved and driven, like cattle, at the will of asingle man. Mutinous feelings were excited. The camp was filled withclamor. The soldiers generally were in sympathy with those who demandedtheir discharge, having faithfully served out the term of theirenlistment. Others felt that their own turn might come when they toomight be thus enslaved. 

There was a bridge which it was necessary for the soldiers to cross onthe homeward route. The inflexible General, supposing that the regularswould be obedient to military discipline, and that it would be fortheir interest to retain in the camp those whose departure wouldendanger all their lives placed them upon the bridge, with cannonloaded to the muzzle with grape-shot. They were ordered mercilessly toshoot down any who should attempt to cross without his permission. InCrockett's ludicrous account of this adventure, he writes:

"The General refused to let us go. We were, however, determined to go. With this, the General issued his orders against it. We began to fixfor a start. The General went and placed his cannon on a bridge we hadto cross, and ordered out his regulars and drafted men to prevent ourcrossing. But when the militia started to guard the bridge, they wouldholler back to us to bring their knapsacks along when we came; for theywanted to go as bad as we did. We got ready, and moved on till we camenear the bridge, where the General's men were all strung along on bothsides. But we all had our flints ready picked and our guns readyprimed, that, if we were fired on, we might fight our way through, orall die together. 

"When we came still nearer the bridge we heard the guards cocking theirguns, and we did the same. But we marched boldly on, and not a gun wasfired, nor a life lost. When we had passed, no further attempt was madeto stop us. We went on, and near Huntsville we met a reinforcement whowere going on to join the army. It consisted of a regiment of sixty-dayvolunteers. We got home pretty safely, and in a short time we hadprocured fresh horses, and a supply of clothing better suited for theseason. "

The officers and soldiers ere long rendezvoused again at Fort Deposit. Personally interested as every one was in subduing the Creeks, whosehostility menaced every hamlet with flames and the inmates of thosehamlets with massacre, still the officers were so annoyed by thearrogance of General Jackson that they were exceedingly unwilling toserve again under his command. 

Just as they came together, a message came from General Jackson, demanding that, on their return, they should engage to serve for sixmonths. He regarded enlistment merely for sixty days as absurd. Withsuch soldiers, he justly argued that no comprehensive campaign could beentered upon. The officers held a meeting to decide upon this question. In the morning, at drum-beat, they informed the soldiers of theconclusion they had formed. Quite unanimously they decided that theywould not go back on a six-months term of service, but that eachsoldier might do as he pleased. Crockett writes:

"I know'd if I went back home I wouldn't rest for I felt it my duty tobe out. And when out, I was somehow or other always delighted to be inthe thickest of the danger. A few of us, therefore, determined to pushon and join the army. The number I do not recollect, but it was verysmall. "

When Crockett reached Fort Strother he was placed in a company ofscouts under Major Russel. Just before they reached the fort, GeneralJackson had set out on an expedition in a southeasterly direction, towhat was called Horseshoe Bend, on the Tallapoosa River. The party ofscouts soon overtook him and led the way. As they approached the spotthrough the silent trails which threaded the wide solitudes, they cameupon many signs of Indians being around. The scouts gave the alarm, andthe main body of the army came up. The troops under Jackson amounted toabout one thousand men. It was the evening of January 23d, 1814. 

The camp-fires were built, supper prepared, and sentinels beingcarefully stationed all around to prevent surprise, the soldiers, protected from the wintry wind only by the gigantic forest, wrappedthemselves in their blankets and threw themselves down on the witheredleaves for sleep. The Indians crept noiselessly along from tree totree, each man searching for a sentinel, until about too hours beforeday, when they opened a well-aimed fire from the impenetrable darknessin which they stood. The sentinels retreated back to the encampment, and the whole army was roused. 

The troops were encamped in the form of a hollow square, and thus werenecessarily between the Indians and the light of their own camp-fires. Not a warrior was to be seen. The only guide the Americans had inshooting, was to notice the flash of the enemy's guns. They fired atthe flash. But as every Indian stood behind a tree, it is not probablethat many, if any, were harmed. The Indians were very wary not toexpose themselves. They kept at a great distance, and were not verysuccessful in their fire. Though they wounded quite a number, only fourmen were killed. With the dawn of the morning they all vanished. 

General Jackson did not wish to leave the corpses of the slain to bedug up and scalped by the savages. He therefore erected a large funeralpyre, placed the bodies upon it, and they were soon consumed to ashes. Some litters were made of long and flexible poles, attached to twohorses, one at each end, and upon these the wounded were conveyed overthe rough and narrow way. The Indians, thus far, had manifestly beenthe victors They had inflicted serious injury upon the Americans; andthere is no evidence that a single one of their warriors had receivedthe slightest harm. This was the great object of Indian strategy. Inthe wars of civilization, a great general has ever been willing tosacrifice the lives of ten thousand of his own troops if, by so doing, he could kill twenty thousand of the enemy. But it was never so withthe Indians. They prized the lives of their warriors too highly. 

On their march the troops came to a wide creek, which it was necessaryto cross. Here the Indians again prepared for battle. They concealedthemselves so effectually as to elude all the vigilance of the scouts. When about half the troops had crossed the stream, the almost invisibleIndians commenced their assault, opening a very rapid but scatteringfire. Occasionally a warrior was seen darting from one point toanother, to obtain better vantage-ground. 

Major Russel was in command of a small rear-guard. His soldiers soonappeared running almost breathless to join the main body, pursued by alarge number of Indians. The savages had chosen the very best momentfor their attack. The artillery-men were in an open field surrounded bythe forest. The Indians, from behind stumps, logs, and trees, tookdeliberate aim, and almost every bullet laid a soldier prostrate. Quitea panic ensued. Two of the colonels, abandoning their regiments, rushedacross the creek to escape the deadly fire. There is no evidence thatthe Indians were superior in numbers to the Americans. But it cannot bedenied that the Americans, though under the leadership of AndrewJackson, were again outgeneralled. General Jackson lost, in this shortconflict, in killed and wounded, nearly one hundred men. Hisdisorganized troops at length effected the passage of the creek, beyondwhich the Indians did not pursue them. Crockett writes:

"I will not say exactly that the old General was whipped. But I thinkhe would say himself that he was nearer whipped this time than anyother; for I know that all the world couldn't make him acknowledge thathe was pointedly whipped. I know I was mighty glad when it was over, and the savages quit us, for I began to think there was one behindevery tree in the woods. "

Crockett, having served out his term, returned home. But he wasrestless there. Having once experienced the excitements of the camp, his wild, untrained nature could not repose in the quietude of domesticlife. The conflict between the United States and a small band ofIndians was very unequal. The loss of a single warrior was to theCreeks irreparable. General Jackson was not a man to yield todifficulties. On the 27th of March, 1814, he drove twelve hundred Creekwarriors into their fort at Tohopeka. They were then surrounded, sothat escape was impossible, and the fort was set on fire. The carnagewas awful. Almost every warrior perished by the bullet or in theflames. The military power of the tribe was at an end. The remnant, utterly dispirited, sued for peace. 

Quite a number of the Creek warriors fled to Florida, and joined thehostile Indian tribes there. We were at this time involved in oursecond war with Great Britain. The Government of our mother country wasdoing everything in its power to rouse the savages against us. Thearmies in Canada rallied most of the Northern tribes beneath theirbanners. Florida, at that time, belonged to Spain. The SpanishGovernment was nominally neutral in the conflict between England andthe United States. But the Spanish governor in Florida was in cordialsympathy with the British officers. He lent them all the aid andcomfort in his power, carefully avoiding any positive violation of thelaws of neutrality. He extended very liberal hospitality to the refugeeCreek warriors, and in many ways facilitated their cooperation with theEnglish. 

A small British fleet entered the mouth of the Apalachicola River andlanded three hundred soldiers. Here they engaged vigorously inconstructing a fort, and in summoning all the surrounding Indian tribesto join them in the invasion of the Southern States. General Jackson, with a force of between one and two thousand men, was in NorthernAlabama, but a few days' march north of the Florida line. He wrote tothe Secretary of War, in substance, as follows:

"The hostile Creeks have taken refuge in Florida. They are there fed, clothed, and protected. The British have armed a large force withmunitions of war, and are fortifying and stirring up the savages. Ifyou will permit me to raise a few hundred militia, which can easily bedone, I will unite them with such a force of regulars as can easily becollected, and will make a descent on Pensacola, and will reduce it. Ipromise you I will bring the war in the South to a speedy termination;and English influence with the savages, in this quarter, shall beforever destroyed. "

The President was not prepared thus to provoke war with Spain, by theinvasion of Florida. Andrew Jackson assumed the responsibility. TheBritish had recently made an attack upon Mobile, and being repulsed, had retired with their squadron to the harbor of Pensacola. Jacksoncalled for volunteers to march upon Pensacola. Crockett roused himselfat the summons, like the war-horse who snuffs the battle from afar. "Iwanted, " he wrote, "a small taste of British fighting, and I supposedthey would be there. "

His wife again entered her tearful remonstrance. She pointed to herlittle children, in their lonely hut far away in the wilderness, remotefrom all neighborhood, and entreated the husband and the father notagain to abandon them. Rather unfeelingly he writes, "The entreaties ofmy wife were thrown in the way of my going, but all in vain; for Ialways had a way of just going ahead at whatever I had a mind to. "

Many who have perused this sketch thus far, may inquire, with somesurprise, "What is it which has given this man such fame as is evennational? He certainly does not develop a very attractive character;and there is but little of the romance of chivalry thrown around hisexploits. The secret is probably to be found in the followingconsiderations, the truth of which the continuation of this narrativewill be continually unfolding. "

Without education, without refinement, without wealth or socialposition, or any special claims to personal beauty, he was entirelyself-possessed and at home under all circumstances. He never manifestedthe slightest embarrassment. The idea seemed never to have entered hismind that there could be any person superior to David Crockett, or anyone so humble that Crockett was entitled to look down upon him withcondescension. He was a genuine democrat. All were in his view equal. And this was not the result of thought, of any political or moralprinciple. It was a part of his nature, which belonged to him withoutany volition, like his stature or complexion. This is one of the rarestqualities to be found in any man. We do not here condemn it, or applaudit. We simply state the fact. 

In the army he acquired boundless popularity from his fun-makingqualities. In these days he was always merry. Bursts of laughtergenerally greeted Crockett's approach and followed his departure. Hewas blessed with a memory which seemed absolutely never to haveforgotten anything. His mind was an inexhaustable store-house ofanecdote. These he had ever at command. Though they were not always, indeed were seldom, of the most refined nature, they were none the lessadapted to raise shouts of merriment in cabin and camp. What SydneySmith was at the banqueting board in the palatial saloon, such wasDavid Crockett at the campfire and in the log hut. If ever in want ofan illustrative anecdote he found no difficulty in manufacturing one. 

His thoughtless kindness of heart and good nature were inexhaustible. Those in want never appealed to him in vain. He would even go hungryhimself that he might feed others who were more hungry. He would, without a moment's consideration, spend his last dollar to buy ablanket for a shivering soldier, and, without taking any merit for thedeed, would never think of it again. He did it without reflection, ashe breathed. 

Such was the David Crockett who, from the mere love of adventure, leftwife and children, in the awful solitude of the wilderness, to followGeneral Jackson in a march to Pensacola. He seems fully to haveunderstood the character of the General, his merits and his defects. The main body of the army, consisting of a little more than twothousand men, had already commenced its march, when Crockett repairedto a rendezvous, in the northern frontiers of Alabama, where anothercompany was being formed, under Major Russel, soon to follow. Thecompany numbered one hundred and thirty men, and commenced its march. 

They forded the Tennessee River at Muscle Shoals, and marched southunmolested, through the heart of the Choctaw and Chickasaw nations, andpressed rapidly forward two or three hundred miles, until they reachedthe junction of the Tombeckbee and Alabama rivers, in the southernsection of the State. The main army was now but two days' march beforethem. The troops, thus far, had been mounted, finding sufficientgrazing for their horses by the way. But learning that there was noforage to be found between there and Pensacola, they left their animalsbehind them, under a sufficient guard, at a place called Cut-off, andset out for the rest of the march, a distance of about eighty miles, onfoot. The slight protective works they threw up here, they called FortStoddart. 

These light troops, hardy men of iron nerves, accomplished the distancein about two days. On the evening of the second day, they reached aneminence but a short distance out from Pensacola, where they found thearmy encamped. Not a little to Crockett's disappointment, he learnedthat Pensacola was already captured. Thus he lost his chance of having"a small taste of British fighting. "

The British and Spaniards had obtained intelligence of Jackson'sapproach, and had made every preparation to drive him back. The fortswere strongly garrisoned, and all the principal streets of the littleSpanish city were barricaded. Several British war-vessels were anchoredin the bay, and so placed as to command with their guns the principalentrance to the town. Jackson, who had invaded the Spanish provinceunsanctioned by the Government, was anxious to impress upon the Spanishauthorities that the measure had been reluctantly adopted, on his ownauthority, as a military necessity; that he had no disposition toviolate their neutral rights; but that it was indispensable that theBritish should be dislodged and driven away. 

The pride of the Spaniard was roused, and there was no friendlyresponse to this appeal. But the Spanish garrison was small, and, united with the English fleet, could present no effectual opposition tothe three thousand men under such a lion-hearted leader as GeneralJackson. On the 7th of January the General opened fire upon the foe. The conflict was short. The Spaniards were compelled to surrender theirworks. The British fled to the ships. The guns were turned upon them. They spread sail and disappeared. Jackson was severely censured, at thetime, for invading the territory of a neutral power. The final verdictof his countrymen has been decidedly in his favor. 

It was supposed that the British would move for the attack of Mobile. This place then consisted of a settlement of but about one hundred andfifty houses. General Jackson, with about two thousand men, marchedrapidly for its defence. A few small, broken bands of hostile, yetdespairing Creeks, fled back from Florida into the wilds of Alabama. Adetachment of nearly a thousand men, under Major Russell, were sent inpursuit of these fleas among the mountains. Crockett made part of thisexpedition. The pursuing soldiers directed their steps northwest abouta hundred miles to Fort Montgomery, on the Alabama, just above itsconfluence with the Tornbeckbee, about twelve miles above FortStoddart. Not far from there was Fort Mimms, where the awful massacrehad taken place which opened the Creek war. 

There were many cattle grazing in the vicinity of the fort at the timeof the massacre, which belonged to the garrison. These animals were nowrunning wild. A thousand hungry men gave them chase. The fatal bulletsoon laid them all low, and there was great feasting and hilarity inthe camp. The carouse was much promoted by the arrival that evening ofa large barge, which had sailed up the Alabama River from Mobile, withsugar, coffee, and, --best of all, as the soldiers said--worst of all, as humanity cries, --with a large amount of intoxicating liquors. 

The scene presented that night was wild and picturesque in the extreme. The horses of the army were scattered about over the plain grazing uponthe rich herbage. There was wood in abundance near, and the camp-firesfor a thousand men threw up their forked flames, illumining the wholeregion with almost the light of day. The white tents of the officers, the varied groups of the soldiers, running here and there, in allpossible attitudes, the cooking and feasting, often whole quarters ofbeef roasting on enormous spits before the vast fires, afforded aspectacle such as is rarely seen. 

One picture instantly arrested the eye of every beholder. There wereone hundred and eighty-six friendly Chickasaw and Choctaw Indians, whohad enlisted in the army. They formed a band by themselves under theirown chiefs. They were all nearly naked, gorgeously painted, anddecorated with the very brilliant attire of the warrior, withcrimson-colored plumes, and moccasins and leggins richly fringed, anddyed in bright and strongly contrasting hues. These savages were in theenjoyment of their greatest delight, drinking to frenzy, and performingtheir most convulsive dances, around the flaming fires. 

In addition to this spectacle which met the eye, there were sounds ofrevelry which fell almost appallingly upon the ear. The wide expansereverberated with bacchanal songs, and drunken shouts, and frenziedwar-whoops. These were all blended in an inextricable clamor. With theunrefined eminently, and in a considerable degree with the mostrefined, noise is one of the essential elements of festivity. Athousand men were making all the noise they could in this midnightrevel. Probably never before, since the dawn of creation, had the banksof the Alabama echoed with such a clamor as in this great carouse, which had so suddenly burst forth from the silence of the almostuninhabited wilderness. 

This is the poetry of war. This it is which lures so many from thetameness of ordinary life to the ranks of the army. In such scenes, Crockett, bursting with fun, the incarnation of wit and good nature, was in his element. Here he was chief. All did him homage. His pridewas gratified by his distinction. Life in his lonely hut, with wife andchildren, seemed, in comparison, too spiritless to be endured. 

The Alabama here runs nearly west. The army was on the south side ofthe river. The next day the Indians asked permission to cross to thenorthern bank on an exploring expedition. Consent was given; but MajorRussel decided to go with them, taking a company of sixteen men, ofwhom Crockett was one. They crossed the river and encamped upon theother side, seeing no foe and encountering no alarm. They soon came toa spot where the winding river, overflowing its banks, spread over awide extent of the flat country. It was about a mile and a half acrossthis inundated meadow. To journey around it would require a march ofmany miles. They waded the meadow. The water was very cold, often up totheir armpits, and they stumbled over the rough ground. This was notthe poetry of war. But still there is a certain degree of civilizationin which the monotony of life is relieved by such adventures. 

When they reached the other side they built large fires, and warmed anddried themselves. They were in search of a few fugitive Indianwarriors, who, fleeing from Pensacola, had scattered themselves over awilderness many hundred square miles in extent. This pursuit of them, by a thousand soldiers, seems now very foolish. But it is hardly safefor us, seated by our quiet firesides, and with but a limited knowledgeof the circumstances, to pass judgment upon the measure. 

The exploring party consisted, as we have mentioned, of nearly twohundred Indians, and sixteen white men. They advanced very cautiously. Two scouts were kept some distance in the advance, two on the sidenearest the river, and five on their right. In this way they had movedalong about six miles, when the two spies in front came rushingbreathlessly back, with the tidings that they had discovered a camp ofCreek Indians. They halted for a few moments while all examined theirguns and their priming and prepared for battle. 

The Indians went through certain religious ceremonies, and getting outtheir war-paint, colored their bodies anew. They then came to MajorRussell, and told him that, as he was to lead them in the battle, hemust be painted too. He humored them, and was painted in the mostapproved style of an Indian warrior. The plan of battle was arranged tostrike the Indian camp by surprise, when they were utterly unpreparedfor any resistance. The white men were cautiously to proceed in theadvance, and pour in a deadly fire to kill as many as possible. TheIndians were then, taking advantage of the panic, to rush in withtomahawk and scalping-knife, and finish the scene according to theirstyle of battle, which spared neither women nor children. It is notpleasant to record such a measure. They crept along, concealed by theforest, and guided by the sound of pounding, till they caught sight ofthe camp. A little to their chagrin they found that it consisted of twopeaceful wigwams, where there was a man, a woman, and several children. The wigwams were also on an island of the river, which could not beapproached without boats. There could not be much glory won by an armyof two hundred men routing such a party and destroying their home. There was also nothing to indicate that these Indians had even anyunfriendly feelings. The man and woman were employed in bruising whatwas called brier root, which they had dug from the forest, for food. Itseems that this was the principal subsistence used by the Indians inthat vicinity. 

While the soldiers were deliberating what next to do, they heard a gunfired in the direction of the scouts, at some distance on the right, followed by a single shrill war-whoop. This satisfied them that if thescouts had met with a foe, it was indeed war on a small scale. Thereseemed no need for any special caution. They all broke and ran towardthe spot from which the sounds came. They soon met two of the spies, who told the following not very creditable story, but one highlycharacteristic of the times. 

As they were creeping along through the forest, they found two Indians, who they said were Creeks, out hunting. As they were approaching eachother, it so happened that there was a dense cluster of bushes betweenthem, so that they were within a few feet of meeting before eitherparty was discovered. The two spies were Choctaws. They advanceddirectly to the Indians, and addressed them in the most friendlymanner; stating that they had belonged to General Jackson's army, buthad escaped, and were on their way home. They shook hands, kindled afire, and sat down and smoked in apparent perfect cordiality. 

One of the Creeks had a gun. The other had only a bow and arrows. Afterthis friendly interview, they rose and took leave of each other, eachgoing in opposite directions. As soon as their backs were turned, andthey were but a few feet from each other, one of the Choctaws turnedaround and shot the unsuspecting Creek who had the gun. He fell dead, without a groan. The other Creek attempted to escape, while the otherChoctaw snapped his gun at him repeatedly, but it missed fire. Theythen pursued him, overtook him, knocked him down with the butt of theirguns, and battered his head until he also was motionless in death. Oneof the Choctaws, in his frenzied blows, broke the stock of his rifle. They then fired off the gun of the Creek who was killed, and one ofthem uttered the war-whoop which was heard by the rest of the party. 

These two savages drew their scalping-knives and cut off the heads ofboth their victims. As the whole body came rushing up, they found thegory corpses of the slain, with their dissevered heads near by. EachIndian had a war-club. With these massive weapons each savage, in histurn, gave the mutilated heads a severe blow. When they had allperformed this barbaric deed, Crockett, whose peculiar type of goodnature led him not only to desire to please the savages, but also toknow what would please them, seized a war-club, and, in his turn, smotewith all his strength the mangled, blood-stained heads. The Indianswere quite delighted. They gathered around him with very expressivegrunts of satisfaction, and patting him upon the back, exclaimed, "Goodwarrior! Good warrior!"

The Indians then scalped the heads, and, leaving the bodies unburied, the whole party entered a trail which led to the river, near the pointwhere the two wigwams were standing. As they followed the narrow paththey came upon the vestiges of a cruel and bloody tragedy. Themouldering corpses of a Spaniard, his wife, and four children layscattered around, all scalped. Our hero Crockett, who had so valiantlysmitten the dissevered heads of the two Creeks who had been sotreacherously murdered, confesses that the revolting spectacle of thewhites, scalped and half devoured, caused him to shudder. He writes:

"I began to feel mighty ticklish along about this time; for I knowed ifthere was no danger then, there had been, and I felt exactly like therestill was. "

The white soldiers, leading the Indians, continued their course untilthey reached the river. Following it down, they came opposite the pointwhere the wigwams stood upon the island. The two Indian hunters who hadbeen killed had gone out from this peaceful little encampment. SeveralIndian children were playing around, and the man and woman whom theyhad before seen were still beating their roots. Another Indian womanwas also there seen. These peaceful families had no conception of thedisaster which had befallen their companions who were hunting in thewoods. Even if they had heard the report of the rifles, they could onlyhave supposed that it was from the guns of the hunters firing at game. 

The evening twilight was fading away. The whole party was concealed ina dense canebrake which fringed the stream. Two of the Indians weresent forward as a decoy--a shameful decoy--to lure into the hands oftwo hundred warriors an unarmed man, two women, and eight or tenchildren. The Indians picked out some of their best marksmen and hidthem behind trees and logs near the river. They were to shoot down theIndians whom others should lure to cross the stream. 

The creek which separated the island from the mainland was deep, butnot so wide but that persons without much difficulty could makethemselves heard across it. Two of the Indians went down to theriver-side, and hailed those at the wigwams, asking them to send acanoe across to take them over. An Indian woman came down to the bankand informed them that the canoe was on their side, that two huntershad crossed the creek that morning, and had not yet returned. Thesewere the two men who had been so inhumanly murdered. Immediate searchwas made for the canoe, and it was found a little above the spot wherethe men were hiding. It was a very large buoyant birch canoe, constructed for the transportation of a numerous household, with alltheir goods, and such game as they might take. 

This they loaded with warriors to the water's edge, and they beganvigorously to paddle over to the island. When the one solitary Indianman there saw this formidable array approaching he fled into the woods. The warriors landed, and captured the two women and the littlechildren, ten in number, and conveyed their prisoners, with the plunderof the wigwams, back across the creek to their own encampment. This wasnot a very brilliant achievement to be accomplished by an army of twohundred warriors aided by a detachment of sixteen white men under MajorRussel. What finally became of these captives we know not. It isgratifying to be informed by David Crockett that they did not killeither the squaws or the pappooses. 

The company then marched through the silent wilderness, a distance ofabout thirty miles east, to the Conecuh River. This stream, in itspicturesque windings through a region where even the Indian seldomroved, flowed into the Scambia, the principal river which pours itsfloods, swollen by many tributaries, into Pensacola Bay. It was severalmiles above the point where the detachment struck the river that theIndian encampment, to which the two murdered men had alluded, waslocated. But the provisions of the party were exhausted. There wasscarcely any game to be found. Major Russel did not deem it prudent tomarch to the attack of the encampment, until he had obtained a freshsupply of provisions. The main body of the army, which had remained inFlorida, moving slowly about, without any very definite object, waitingfor something to turn up was then upon the banks of the Scambia. Colonel Blue was in command. 

David Crockett was ordered to take a light birch canoe, and two men, one a friendly Creek Indian, and paddle down the stream about twentymiles to the main camp. Here he was to inform Colonel Blue of MajorRussel's intention to ascend the Conecuh to attack the Creeks, and torequest the Colonel immediately to dispatch some boats up the riverwith the needful supplies. 

It was a romantic adventure descending in the darkness that wild andlonely stream, winding through the dense forest of wonderful exuberanceof vegetation. In the early evening he set out. The night proved verydark. The river, swollen by recent rains, overflowed its banks andspread far and wide over the low bottoms. The river was extremelycrooked, and it was with great difficulty that they could keep thechannel. But the instinct of the Indian guide led them safely along, through overhanging boughs and forest glooms, until, a little beforemidnight, they reached the camp. There was no time to be lost. MajorRussel was anxious to have the supplies that very night dispatched tohim, lest the Indians should hear of their danger and should escape. 

But Colonel Blue did not approve of the expedition. There was noevidence that the Indian encampment consisted of anything more thanhalf a dozen wigwams, where a few inoffensive savages, with their wivesand children, were eking out a half-starved existence by hunting, fishing, and digging up roots from the forest. It did not seem wise tosend an army of two hundred and sixteen men to carry desolation and woeto such humble homes. Crockett was ordered to return with this messageto the Major. Military discipline, then and there, was not very rigid. He hired another man to carry back the unwelcome answer in his place. In the light canoe the three men rapidly ascended the sluggish stream. Just as the sun was rising over the forest, they reached the camp ofMajor Russell. The detachment then immediately commenced its march downthe River Scambia, and joined the main body at a point called Miller'sLanding. Here learning that some fugitive Indians were on the easternside of the stream, a mounted party was sent across, swimming theirhorses, and several Indians were hunted down and shot. 

Soon after this, the whole party, numbering nearly twelve hundred inall, commenced a toilsome march of about two or three hundred milesacross the State to the Chattahoochee River, which constitutes theboundary-line between Southern Alabama and Georgia. Their route ledthrough pathless wilds. No provisions, of any importance, could befound by the way. They therefore took with them rations fortwenty-eight days. But their progress was far more slow and toilsomethan they had anticipated. Dense forests were to be threaded, where itwas necessary for them to cut their way through almost tropicalentanglement of vegetation. Deep and broad marshes were to be waded, where the horses sank almost to their saddle-girths. There were riversto be crossed, which could only be forded by ascending the banksthrough weary leagues of wilderness. 

Thus, when twenty-eight days had passed, and their provisions werenearly expended, though they had for some time been put on shortallowance, they found that they had accomplished but three-quarters oftheir journey. Actual starvation threatened them. But twice in nineteendays did Crockett Taste of any bread. Despondency spread its gloom overthe half-famished army. Still they toiled along, almost hopeless, withtottering footsteps. War may have its excitements and its charms. Butsuch a march as this, of woe-begone, emaciate, skeleton bands, is notto be counted as among war's pomps and glories. 

One evening, in the deepening twilight, when they had been outthirty-four days, the Indian scouts, ever sent in advance, came intocamp with the announcement, that at the distance of but a few hours'march before them, the Chattahoochee River was to be found, with alarge Indian village upon its banks. We know not what reason there wasto suppose that the Indians inhabiting this remote village werehostile. But as the American officers decided immediately uponattacking them, we ought to suppose that they, on the ground, hadsufficient reason to justify this course. 

The army was immediately put in motion. The rifles were loaded andprimed, and the flints carefully examined, that they might not fallinto ambush unprepared. The sun was just rising as they cautiouslyapproached the doomed village. There was a smooth green meadow a fewrods in width on the western bank of the river, skirted by theboundless forest. The Indian wigwams and lodges, of varied structure, were clustered together on this treeless, grassy plain, in muchpicturesque beauty. The Indians had apparently not been apprised of theapproach of the terrible tempest of war about to descend upon them. Apparently, at that early hour, they were soundly asleep. Not a man, woman, or child was to be seen. 

Silently, screened by thick woods, the army formed in line of battle. The two hundred Indian warriors, rifle in hand and tomahawk at belt, stealthily took their position. The white men took theirs. At a givensignal, the war-whoop burst from the lips of the savages, and the wildhalloo of the backwoodsmen reverberated through the forest, as bothparties rushed forward in the impetuous charge. "We were all sofurious, " writes Crockett, "that even the certainty of a pretty hardfight could not have restrained us. "

But to the intense mortification of these valiant men, not a singleliving being was to be found as food for bullet or tomahawk. The hutswere all deserted, and despoiled of every article of any value. Therewas not a skin, or an unpicked bone, or a kernel of corn left behind. The Indians had watched the march of the foe, and, with their wives andlittle ones, had retired to regions where the famishing army could notfollow them. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Camp and the Cabin. 

Deplorable Condition of the Army. --Its wanderings. --Crockett'sBenevolence. --Cruel Treatment of the Indians. --A Gleam of GoodLuck. --The Joyful Feast. --Crockett's Trade with the Indian. --Visit tothe Old Battlefield. --Bold Adventure of Crockett. --His ArrivalHome. --Death of his Wife. --Second Marriage. --Restlessness. --ExploringTour. --Wild Adventures. --Dangerous Sickness. --Removal to the West. --HisNew Home. 

The army, far away in the wilds of Southern Alabama, on the banks ofthe almost unknown Chattahoochee, without provisions, and with leaguesof unexplored wilderness around, found itself in truly a deplorablecondition. The soldiers had hoped to find, in the Indian village, stores of beans and corn, and quantities of preserved game. In theimpotence of their disappointment they applied the torch, and laid thelittle village in ashes. 

A council was held, and it was deemed best to divide their forces. Major Childs took one-half of the army and retraced their stepswestward, directing their course toward Baton Rouge, where they hopedto find General Jackson with a portion of the army with which he wasreturning from New Orleans. The other division, under Major Russel, pressed forward, as rapidly as possible, nearly north, aiming for FortDecatur, on the Tallapoosa River, where they expected to find shelterand provisions. Crockett accompanied Major Russel's party. Indiansagacity was now in great requisition. The friendly savages led the waythrough scenes of difficulty and entanglement where, but for their aid, the troops might all have perished. So great was the destitution offood that the soldiers were permitted to stray, almost at pleasure, oneither side of the line of march. Happy was the man who could shoot araccoon or a squirrel, or even the smallest bird. Implicit confidencewas placed in the guidance of the friendly Indians, and the armyfollowed in single file, along the narrow trail which the Indians trodbefore them. 

Crockett, in this march, had acquired so much the confidence of theofficers that he seems to have enjoyed quite unlimited license. He wentwhere he pleased and did what he would. Almost invariably at night, keeping pace with the army, he would bring in some small game, a birdor a squirrel, and frequently several of these puny animals. It was arule, when night came, for all the hunters to throw down what they hadkilled in one pile. This was then divided among the messes as equitablyas possible. 

One night, Crockett returned empty-handed. He had killed nothing, andhe was very hungry. But there was a sick man in his mess, who wassuffering far more than he. Crockett, with his invariable unselfishnessand generosity, forgot his own hunger in his solicitude for his sickcomrade. He went to the fire of Captain Cowen, who was commandant ofthe company to which Crockett belonged, and told him his story. CaptainCowen was broiling, for his supper, the gizzard of a turkey. He toldCrockett that the turkey was all that had fallen to the share of hiscompany that night, and that the bird had already been divided, in verysmall fragments, among the sick. There was nothing left for Crockett'sfriend. 

On this march the army was divided into messes of eight or ten men, whocooked and ate their food together. This led Crockett to decide that heand his mess would separate themselves from the rest of the army, andmake a small and independent band. The Indian scouts, well armed andvery wary, took the lead. They kept several miles in advance of themain body of the troops, that they might give timely warning shouldthey encounter any danger. Crockett and his mess kept close after them, following their trail, and leaving the army one or two miles behind. 

One day the scouts came across nine Indians. We are not informedwhether they were friends or enemies, whether they were hunters orwarriors, whether they were men, women, or children, whether they werein their wigwams or wandering through the forest, whether they were alltogether or were found separately: we are simply told that they wereall shot down. The circumstances of the case are such, that theprobabilities are very strong that they were shot as a wolf or a bearwould be shot, at sight, without asking any questions. The next day thescouts found a frail encampment where there were three Indians. Theyshot them all. 

The sufferings of the army, as it toiled along through these vastrealms of unknown rivers and forest glooms, and marshes andwide-spread, flower-bespangled prairies, became more and more severe. Game was very scarce. For three days, Crockett's party killed barelyenough to sustain life. He writes:

"At last we all began to get nearly ready to give up the ghost, and liedown and die, for we had no prospect of provision, and we knowed wecouldn't go much farther without it. "

While in this condition they came upon one of those wide and beautifulprairies which frequently embellish the landscape of the South and theWest This plain was about six miles in width, smooth as a floor, andwaving with tall grass and the most brilliantly colored flowers. It wasbordered with a forest of luxuriant growth, but not a tree dotted itssurface. They came upon a trail leading through the tall, thick grass. Crockett's practised eye saw at once that it was not a trail made byhuman foot-steps, but the narrow path along which deer strolled andturkeys hobbled in their movement across the field from forest toforest. 

Following this trail, they soon came to a creek of sluggish water. Thelowlands on each side were waving with a rank growth of wild rye, presenting a very green and beautiful aspect. The men were all mounted, as indeed was nearly the whole army. By grazing and browsing, thehorses, as they moved slowly along at a foot-pace, kept in comfortableflesh. This rye-field presented the most admirable pasturage for thehorses. Crockett and his comrades dismounted, and turned the animalsloose. There was no danger of their straying far in so fat a field. 

Crockett and another man, Vanzant by name, leaving the horses to feed, pushed across the plain to the forest, in search of some food forthemselves They wandered for some time, and found nothing. At length, Crockett espied a squirrel on the limb of a tall tree. He shot at theanimal and wounded it but it succeeded in creeping into a small hole inthe tree, thirty feet from the ground. There was not a limb for thatdistance to aid in climbing. Still the wants of the party were suchthat Crockett climbed the tree to get the squirrel, and felt that hehad gained quite a treasure. 

"I shouldn't relate such small matters, " he writes, "only to show whatlengths a hungry man will go to, to get something to eat. "

Soon after, he killed two more squirrels. Just as he was reloading hisgun, a large flock of fat turkeys rose from the marshy banks of thecreek along which they were wandering, and flying but a short distance, relighted. Vanzant crept forward, and aiming at a large gobbler, fired, and brought him down. The flock immediately flew back to near the spotwhere Crockett stood. He levelled his rifle, took deliberate aim, andanother fine turkey fell. The flock then disappeared. 

The two hunters made the forest resound with shouts of triumph. Theyhad two large, fat turkeys, which would be looked at wistfully upon anygourmand's table, and for side-dishes they had three squirrels. Thusthey were prepared for truly a thanksgiving feast. Hastily theyreturned with their treasure, when they learned that the others oftheir party had found a bee-tree, that is, a tree where a swarm of beeshad taken lodgment, and were laying in their winter stores. They cutdown the tree with their hatchets, and obtained an ample supply of wildhoney. They all felt that they had indeed fallen upon a vein of goodluck. 

It was but a short distance from the creek to the gigantic forest, rising sublimely in its luxuriance, with scarcely an encumbering shrubof undergrowth. They entered the edge of the forest, built a hot fire, roasted their game, and, while their horses were enjoying the richestof pasturage, they, with their keen appetites, enjoyed a more deliciousfeast than far-famed Delmonico ever provided for his epicurean guests. 

The happy party, rejoicing in the present, and taking no thought forthe morrow, spent the night in this camp of feasting. The next morningthey were reluctant to leave such an inviting hunting-ground. Crockettand Vanzant again took to their rifles, and strolled into the forest insearch of game. Soon they came across a fine buck, which seemed to havetarried behind to watch the foe, while the rest of the herd, of whichhe was protector, had taken to flight. The beautiful creature, witherect head and spreading antlers, gallantly stopping to investigate thedanger to which his family was exposed, would have moved the sympathiesof any one but a professed hunter. Crockett's bullet struck him, wounded him severely, and he limped away. Hotly the two hunterspursued. They came to a large tree which had been blown down, and waspartly decayed. An immense grizzly bear crept growling from the hollowof this tree, and plunged into the forest. It was in vain to pursuehim, without dogs to retard his flight. They however soon overtook thewounded buck, and shot him. With this treasure of venison upon theirshoulders, they had but just returned to their camp when the main bodyof the army came up. The game which Crockett had taken, and upon whichthey had feasted so abundantly, if divided among twelve hundred men, would not have afforded a mouthful apiece. 

The army was in the most deplorable condition of weakness and hunger. Ere long they reached the Coosa, and followed up its eastern bank. About twenty miles above the spot where they struck the river there wasa small military post, called Fort Decatur. They hoped to find somefood there. And yet, in that remote, almost inaccessible station, theycould hardly expect to meet with anything like a supply for twelvehundred half-famished men. 

Upon reaching the river, Crockett took a canoe and paddled across. Onthe other shore he found an Indian. Instead of shooting him, he muchmore sensibly entered into relations of friendly trade with the savage. The Indian had a little household in his solitary wigwam, and a smallquantity of corn in store. Crockett wore a large hat. Taking it fromhis head, he offered the Indian a silver dollar if he would fill itwith corn. But the little bit of silver, with enigmatical charactersstamped upon it, was worth nothing to the Indian. He declined theoffer. Speaking a little broken English, he inquired, "You got anypowder? You got any bullets?" Crockett told him he had. He promptlyreplied, "Me will swap my corn for powder and bullets. "

Eagerly the man gave a hatful of corn for ten bullets and ten chargesof powder. He then offered another hatful at the same price. Crocketttook off his hunting-shirt, tied it up so as to make a sort of bag, into which he poured his two hatfuls of corn. With this great treasurehe joyfully paddled across the stream to rejoin his companions. It ispleasant to think that the poor Indian was not shot, that his wigwamwas not burned over his head, and that he was left with means toprovide his wife and children with many luxurious meals. 

The army reached Fort Decatur. One single meal consumed all theprovisions which the garrison could by any possibility spare. They hadnow entered upon a rough, hilly, broken country. The horses found butlittle food, and began to give out. About fifty miles farther up theCoosa River there was another military station, in the lonely wilds, called Fort William. Still starving, and with tottering horses, theytoiled on. Parched corn, and but a scanty supply of that, was nowalmost their only subsistence. 

They reached the fort. One ration of pork and one ration of flour weremercifully given them. It was all which could be spared. To remainwhere they were was certain starvation. Forty miles above them on thesame stream was Fort Strother. Sadly they toiled along. The skeletonhorses dropped beneath their riders, and were left, saddled andbridled, for the vultures and the wolves. On their route to FortStrother they passed directly by the ancient Indian fort of Talladega. It will be remembered that a terrible battle had been fought here byGeneral Jackson with the Indians, on the 7th of December, 1813. In thecarnage of that bloody day nearly five hundred Indians fell. Those whoescaped scattered far and wide. A few of them sought refuge in distantFlorida. 

The bodies of the slain were left unburied. Slowly the fleshdisappeared from the bones, either devoured by wild beasts ordecomposed by the action of the atmosphere. The field, as now visited, presented an appalling aspect. Crockett writes:

"We went through the old battle-ground, and it looked like a greatgourd-patch. The skulls of the Indians who were killed, still layscattered all about. Many of their frames were still perfect, as theirbones had not separated. "

As they were thus despairingly tottering along, they came across anarrow Indian trail, with fresh footmarks, indicating that moccasinedIndians had recently passed along. It shows how little they had causeto fear from the Indians, that Crockett, entirely alone, should havefollowed that trail, trusting that it would lead him to some Indianvillage, where he could hope to buy some more corn. He was not deceivedin his expectation. After threading the narrow and winding path aboutfive miles, he came to a cluster of Indian wigwams. Boldly he enteredthe little village, without apparently the slightest apprehension thathe should meet with any unfriendly reception. 

He was entirely at the mercy of the savages Even if he were murdered, it would never be known by whom. And if it were known, the starvingarmy, miles away, pressing along in its flight, was in no condition tosend a detachment to endeavor to avenge the deed. The savages receivedhim as though he had been one of their own kith and kin, and readilyexchanged corn with him, for powder and bullets. He then returned, butdid not overtake the rest of the army until late in the night. 

The next morning they were so fortunate as to encounter a detachment ofUnited States troops on the march to Mobile. These troops, having justcommenced their journey, were well supplied; and they liberallydistributed their corn and provisions. Here Crockett found his youngestbrother, who had enlisted for the campaign. There were also in the bandmany others of his old friends and neighbors. The succeeding day, theweary troops, much refreshed, reached a point on the River Coosaopposite Fort Strother, and crossing the stream, found there shelterand plenty of provisions. 

We know not, and do not care to know, who was responsible for thismilitary movement, which seems to us now as senseless as it was crueland disastrous. But it is thus that poor humanity has ever goneblundering on, displaying but little wisdom in its affairs. HereCrockett had permission to visit his home, though he still owed thecountry a month of service. In his exceeding rude, unpolished stylewhich pictures the man, he writes:

"Once more I was safely landed at home with my wife and children. Ifound them all well and doing well; and though I was only a rough sortof backwoodsman, they seemed mighty glad to see me, however little thequality folks might suppose it. For I do reckon we love as hard in thebackwood country as any people in the whole creation. 

"But I had been home only a few days, when we received orders to startagain, and go on to the Black Warrior and Cahaula rivers, to see ifthere were no Indians there. I know'd well enough there was none, and Iwasn't willing to trust my craw any more where there was neither anyfighting to do, nor anything to go on. So I agreed to give a young man, who wanted to go, the balance of my wages, if he would serve out mytime, which was about a month. 

"He did so. And when they returned, sure enough they hadn't seen anIndian any more than if they had been, all the time, chopping wood inmy clearing. This closed my career as a warrior; and I am glad of it;for I like life now a heap better than I did then. And I am glad allover that I lived to see these times, which I should not have done if Ihad kept fooling along in war, and got used up at it. When I say I amglad, I just mean that I am glad that I am alive, for there is aconfounded heap of things I ain't glad of at all. "

When Crockett wrote the above he was a member of Congress, and a veryearnest politician. He was much opposed to the measure of PresidentJackson in removing the deposits from the United States Bank--amovement which greatly agitated the whole country at that time. Inspeaking of things of which he was not glad, he writes:

"I ain't glad, for example, that the Government moved the deposits; andif my military glory should take such a turn as to make me Presidentafter the General's time, I will move them back. Yes, I the Government, will take the responsibility, and move them back again. If I don't Iwish I may be shot. "

The hardships of war had blighted Crockett's enthusiasm for wildadventures, and had very considerably sobered him. He remained at homefor two years, diligently at work upon his farm. The battle of NewOrleans was fought. The war with England closed, and peace was madewith the poor Indians, who, by British intrigue, had been goaded to thedisastrous fight. Death came to the cabin of Crockett; and his faithfulwife, the tender mother of his children, was taken from him. We cannotrefrain from quoting his own account of this event as it does muchhonor to his heart. 

"In this time I met with the hardest trial which ever falls to the lotof man. Death, that cruel leveller of all distinctions, to whom theprayers and tears of husbands, and even of helpless infancy, areaddressed in vain, entered my humble cottage, and tore from my childrenan affectionate, good mother, and from me a tender and loving wife. Itis a scene long gone by, and one which it would be supposed I hadalmost forgotten. Yet when I turn my memory back upon it, it seems butas the work of yesterday. 

"It was the doing of the Almighty, whose ways are always right, thoughwe sometimes think they fall heavily on us. And as painful as even yetis the remembrance of her sufferings, and the loss sustained by mylittle children and myself, yet I have no wish to lift up the voice ofcomplaint. I was left with three children. The two eldest were sons, the youngest a daughter, and at that time a mere infant. It appeared tome, at that moment, that my situation was the worst in the world. 

"I couldn't bear the thought of scattering my children; and so I got myyoungest brother, who was also married, and his family, to live withme. They took as good care of my children as they well could; but yetit wasn't all like the care of a mother. And though their company wasto me, in every respect, like that of a brother and sister, yet it fellfar short of being like that of a wife. So I came to the conclusionthat it wouldn't do, but that I must have another wife. "

One sees strikingly, in the above quotation, the softening effect ofaffliction on the human heart There was a widow in the neighborhood, avery worthy woman, who had lost her husband in the war. She had twochildren, a son and a daughter, both quite young. She owned a snuglittle farm, and being a very capable woman, was getting along quitecomfortably. Crockett decided that he should make a good step-father toher children, and she a good step-mother for his. The courtship was inaccordance with the most approved style of country love-making. Itproved to be a congenial marriage. The two families came veryharmoniously together, and in their lowly hut enjoyed peace andcontentment such as frequently is not found in more ambitious homes. 

But the wandering propensity was inherent in the very nature ofCrockett. He soon tired of the monotony of a farmer's life, and longedfor change. A few months after his marriage he set out, with three ofhis neighbors, all well mounted, on an exploring tour into CentralAlabama, hoping to find new homes there. Taking a southerly course, they crossed the Tennessee River, and striking the upper waters of theBlack Warrior, followed down that stream a distance of about twohundred miles from their starting-point, till they came near to theplace where Tuscaloosa, the capital of the State, now stands. 

This region was then almost an unbroken wilderness. But during the warCrockett had frequently traversed it, and was familiar with its generalcharacter. On the route they came to the hut of a man who was a comradeof Crockett in the Florida campaign. They spent a day with the retiredsoldier, and all went out in the woods together to hunt. Frazierunfortunately stepped upon a venomous snake, partially covered withleaves. The reptile struck its deadly fangs into his leg. The effectwas instantaneous and awful. They carried the wounded man, with hisbloated and throbbing limb, back to the hut. Here such remedies wereapplied as backwoods medical science suggested; but it was evident thatmany weeks would elapse ere the man could move, even should heeventually recover. Sadly they were constrained to leave theirsuffering companion there. What became of him is not recorded. 

The three others, Crockett, Robinson, and Rich, continued theirjourney. Their route led them through a very fertile and beautifulregion, called Jones's Valley. Several emigrants had penetrated andreared their log huts upon its rich and blooming meadows. 

When they reached the spot where the capital of the State now stands, with its spacious streets, its public edifices, its halls of learning, its churches, and its refined and cultivated society, they found onlythe silence, solitude, and gloom of the wilderness. With their hatchetsthey constructed a rude camp to shelter them from the night air and theheavy dew. It was open in front. Here they built their camp-fire, whosecheerful glow illumined the forest far and wide, and which convertedmidnight glooms into almost midday radiance. The horses were hobbledand turned out to graze on a luxuriant meadow. It was supposed that theanimals, weary of the day's journey, and finding abundant pasturage, would not stray far. The travellers cooked their supper, and throwingthemselves upon their couch of leaves, enjoyed that sound sleep whichfatigue, health, and comfort give. 

When they awoke in the morning the horses were all gone. By examiningthe trail it seemed that they had taken the back-track in search oftheir homes. Crockett, who was the most vigorous and athletic of thethree, leaving Robinson and Rich in the camp, set out in pursuit of therunaways. It was a rough and dreary path he had to tread. There was nocomfortable road to traverse, but a mere path through forest, bog, andravine, which, at times, it was difficult to discern. He had hills toclimb, creeks to ford, swamps to wade through. Hour after hour hepressed on, but the horses could walk faster than he could. There wasnothing in their foot-prints which indicated that he was approachingany nearer to them. 

At last, when night came, and Crockett judged that he had walked fiftymiles, he gave up the chase as hopeless. Fortunately he reached thecabin of a settler, where he remained until morning. A rapid walk, almost a run, of fifty miles in one day, is a very severe operationeven for the most hardy of men. When Crockett awoke, after his night'ssleep, he found himself so lame that he could scarcely move. He was, however, anxious to get back with his discouraging report to hiscompanions. He therefore set out, and hobbled slowly and painfullyalong, hoping that exercise would gradually loosen his stiffened joints. 

But, mile after mile, he grew worse rather than better. His head beganto ache very severely. A burning fever spread through his veins. Hetottered in his walk, and his rifle seemed so heavy that he couldscarcely bear its weight. He was toiling through a dark and gloomyravine, damp and cold, and thrown into shade by the thick foliage ofthe overhanging trees. So far as he knew, no human habitation was near. Night was approaching. He could go no farther. He had no food; but hedid not need any, for a deathly nausea oppressed him. Utterlyexhausted, he threw himself down upon the grass and withered leaves, ona small dry mound formed by the roots of a large tree. 

Crockett had no wish to die. He clung very tenaciously to life, and yethe was very apprehensive that then and there he was to linger through afew hours of pain, and then die, leaving his unburied body to bedevoured by wild beasts, and his friends probably forever ignorant ofhis fate. Consumed by fever, and agitated by these painful thoughts, heremained for an hour or two, when he heard the sound of approachingfootsteps and of human voices. His sensibilities were so stupefied byhis sickness that these sounds excited but little emotion. 

Soon three or four Indians made their appearance walking along thenarrow trail in single file. They saw the prostrate form of the poor, sick white man, and immediately gathered around him. The rifle ofCrockett, and the powder and bullets which he had, were, to theseIndians, articles of almost inestimable value. One blow of the tomahawkwould send the helpless man to realms where rifles and ammunition wereno longer needed, and his priceless treasures would fall into theirhands. Indeed, it was not necessary even to strike that blow. They hadbut to pick up the rifle, and unbuckle the belt which contained thepowder-horn and bullet-pouch, and leave the dying man to his fate. 

But these savages, who had never read our Saviour's beautiful parableof the good Samaritan, acted the Samaritan's part to the white man whomthey found in utter helplessness and destitution. They kneeled aroundhim, trying to minister to his wants. One of them had a watermelon. Hecut from it a slice of the rich and juicy fruit, and entreated him toeat it. But his stomach rejected even that delicate food. 

They then, by very expressive signs, told him that if he did not takesome nourishment he would die and be buried there--"a thing, " Crockettwrites, "I was confoundedly afraid of, myself. " Crockett inquired howfar it was to any house. They signified to him, by signs, that therewas a white man's cabin about a mile and a half from where they thenwere, and urged him to let them conduct him to that house. He rose tomake the attempt. But he was so weak that he could with difficultystand, and unsupported could not walk a step. 

One of these kind Indians offered to go with him; and relievingCrockett of the burden of his rifle, and with his strong arm supportingand half carrying him, at length succeeded in getting him to the loghut of the pioneer. The shades of night were falling. The sick man wasso far gone that it seemed to him that he could scarcely move anotherstep. A woman came to the door of the lowly hut and received them witha woman's sympathy. There was a cheerful fire blazing in one corner, giving quite a pleasing aspect to the room. In another corner there wasa rude bed, with bed-clothing of the skins of animals. Crockett'sbenefactor laid him tenderly upon the bed, and leaving him in thecharge of his countrywoman, bade him adieu, and hastened away toovertake his companions. 

What a different world would this be from what it has been, did thespirit of kindness, manifested by this poor Indian, universally animatehuman hearts!

"O brother man! fold to thy heart thy brother: Where pity dwells thepeace of God is there; To worship rightly is to love each other, Eachsmile a hymn, each kindly word a prayer. "

The woman's husband was, at the time, absent. But she carefully nursedher patient, preparing for him some soothing herb-tea. Delirium came, and for several hours, Crockett, in a state of unconsciousness, dweltin the land of troubled dreams. The next morning he was a little morecomfortable, but still in a high fever, and often delirious. 

It so happened that two white men, on an exploring tour, as they passedalong the trail, met the Indians, who informed them that one of theirsick countrymen was at a settler's cabin at but a few miles' distance. With humanity characteristic of a new and sparsely settled country theyturned aside to visit him. They proved to be old acquaintances ofCrockett. He was so very anxious to get back to the camp where he hadleft his companions, and who, knowing nothing of his fate, must thinkit very strange that he had thus deserted them, that they, veryreluctantly, in view of his dangerous condition, consented to help himon his way. 

They made as comfortable a seat as they could, of blankets and skins, which they buckled on the neck of one of the horses just before thesaddle. Upon this Crockett was seated. One of the men then mounted thesaddle behind him, threw both arms around the patient, and thus theycommenced their journey. The sagacious horse was left to pick out hisown way along the narrow trail at a slow foot-pace. As the horse thusbore a double burden, after journeying an hour or two, Crockett's seatwas changed to the other horse. Thus alternating, the painful journeyof nearly fifty miles was accomplished in about two days. 

When they reached the camp, Crockett, as was to have been expected, wasin a far worse condition than when they commenced the journey. It wasevident that he was to pass through a long run of fever, and that hisrecovery was very doubtful. His companions could not thus be delayed. They had already left Frazier, one of their company, perhaps to die ofthe bite of a venomous snake; and now they were constrained to leaveCrockett, perhaps to die of malarial fever. 

They ascertained that, at the distance of a few miles from them, therewas another log cabin in the wilderness. They succeeded in purchasing acouple of horses, and in transporting the sick man to this humble houseof refuge. Here Crockett was left to await the result of his sickness, unaided by any medical skill. Fortunately he fell into the hands of afamily who treated him with the utmost kindness. For a fortnight he wasin delirium, and knew nothing of what was transpiring around him. 

Crockett was a very amiable man. Even the delirium of disease developeditself in kindly words and grateful feelings. He always won the love ofthose around him. He did not miss delicacies and luxuries of which hehad never known anything. Coarse as he was when measured by thestandard of a higher civilization, he was not coarse at all in theestimation of the society in the midst of which he moved. In thishumble cabin of Jesse Jones, with all its aspect of penury, Crockettwas nursed with brotherly and sisterly kindness, and had everyalleviation in his sickness which his nature craved. 

The visitor to Versailles is shown the magnificent apartment, and theregal couch, with its gorgeous hangings, upon which Louis XIV. , theproudest and most pampered man on earth, languished and died. Crockett, on his pallet in the log cabin, with unglazed window and earthernfloor, was a far less unhappy man, than the dying monarch surroundedwith regal splendors. 

At the end of a fortnight the patient began slowly to mend. Hisemaciation was extreme, and his recovery very gradual. After a fewweeks he was able to travel. He was then on a route where wagons passedover a rough road, teaming the articles needed in a new country. Crockett hired a wagoner to give him a seat in his wagon and to conveyhim to the wagoner's house, which was about twenty miles distant. Gaining strength by the way, when he arrived there he hired a horse ofthe wagoner, and set out for home. 

Great was the astonishment of his family upon his arrival, for they hadgiven him up as dead. The neighbors who set out on this journey withhim had returned and so reported; for they had been misinformed. Theytold Mrs. Crockett that they had seen those who were with him when hedied, and had assisted in burying him. 

Still the love of change had not been dispelled from the bosom ofCrockett. He did not like the place where he resided. After spending afew months at home, he set out, in the autumn, upon another exploringtour. Our National Government had recently purchased, of the ChickasawIndians, a large extent of territory in Southern Tennessee. Crockettthought that in those new lands he would find the earthly paradise ofwhich he was in search. The region was unsurveyed, a savage wilderness, and there were no recognized laws and no organized government there. 

Crockett mounted his horse, lashed his rifle to his back, filled hispowder-horn and bullet-pouch, and journeying westward nearly a hundredmiles, through pathless wilds whose solitudes had a peculiar charm forhim, came to a romantic spot, called Shoal Creek, in what is now GilesCounty, in the extreme southern part of Tennessee. He found otheradventurers pressing into the new country, where land was abundant andfertile, and could be had almost for nothing. 

Log cabins were rising in all directions, in what they deemed quitenear neighborhood, for they were not separated more than a mile or twofrom each other. Crockett, having selected his location on the banks ofa crystal stream, summoned, as was the custom, some neighbors to hisaid, and speedily constructed the cabin, of one apartment, to shieldhis family from the wind and the rain. Moving with such a family is nota very arduous undertaking. One or two pack-horses convey all thehousehold utensils. There are no mirrors, bedsteads, bureaus, or chairsto be transported. With an auger and a hatchet, these articles are soonconstructed in their new home. The wife, with the youngest child, rides. The husband, with his rifle upon his shoulder, and followed bythe rest of the children, trudges along on foot. 

Should night or storm overtake them, an hour's work would throw up acamp, with a cheerful fire in front, affording them about the samecohorts which they enjoyed in the home they had left. A little meal, baked in the ashes, supplied them with bread. And during the journey ofthe day the rifle of the father would be pretty sure to pick up somegame to add to the evening repast. 

Crockett and his family reached their new home in safety. Here quite anew sphere of life opened before the adventurer, and he became sofirmly settled that he remained in that location for three years. Inthe mean time, pioneers from all parts were rapidly rearing theircabins upon the fertile territory, which was then called The NewPurchase. 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Justice of Peace and the Legislator. 

Vagabondage. --Measures of Protection. --Measures ofGovernment. --Crockett's Confession. --A Candidate for MilitaryHonors. --Curious Display of Moral Courage. --The Squirrel Hunt. --ACandidate for the Legislature. --CharacteristicElectioneering. --Specimens of his Eloquence. --Great PecuniaryCalamity. --Expedition to the Far West. --Wild Adventures. --The MidnightCarouse. --A Cabin Reared. 

The wealthy and the prosperous are not disposed to leave the comfortsof a high civilization for the hardships of the wilderness. Most of thepioneers who crowded to the New Purchase were either energetic youngmen who had their fortunes to make, or families who by misfortune hadencountered impoverishment. But there was still another class. Therewere the vile, the unprincipled, the desperate; vagabonds seeking whomthey might devour; criminals escaping the penalty of the laws whichthey had violated. 

These were the men who shot down an Indian at sight, as they wouldshoot a wolf; merely for the fun of it; who robbed the Indian of hisgun and game, burned his wigwam, and atrociously insulted his wife anddaughters. These were the men whom no law could restrain; who broughtdisgrace upon the name of a white man, and who often provoked theignorant savage to the most dreadful and indiscriminate retaliation. 

So many of these infamous men flocked to this New Purchase that lifethere became quite undesirable. There were no legally appointedofficers of justice, no organized laws. Every man did what was pleasingin his own sight. There was no collecting of debts, no redress forviolence, no punishment for cheating or theft. 

Under these circumstances, there was a general gathering of thewell-disposed inhabitants of the cabins scattered around, to adopt somemeasures for their mutual protection. Several men were appointedjustices of peace, with a set of resolute young men, as constables, toexecute their commissions. These justices were invested with almostdictatorial power. They did not pretend to know anything about writtenlaw or common law. They were merely men of good sound sense, who couldjudge as to what was right in all ordinary intercourse between man andman. 

A complaint would be entered to Crockett that one man owed anothermoney and refused to pay him. Crockett would send his constables toarrest the man, and bring him to his cabin. After hearing both parties, if Crockett judged the debt to be justly due, and that it could bepaid, he would order the man's horse, cow, rifle, or any other propertyhe owned, to be seized and sold, and the debt to be paid. If the manmade any resistance he would be very sure to have his cabin burned downover his head; and he would be very lucky if he escaped a bulletthrough his own body. 

One of the most common and annoying crimes committed by thesedesperadoes was shooting an emigrant's swine. These animals, regardedas so invaluable in a new country, each had its owner's mark, andranged the woods, fattening upon acorns and other nuts. Nothing waseasier than for a lazy man to wander into the woods, shoot one of theseanimals, take it to his cabin, devour it there, and obliterate allpossible traces of the deed. Thus a large and valuable herd wouldgradually disappear. This crime was consequently deemed to merit themost severe punishment. It was regarded as so disgraceful that norespectable man was liable to suspicion. 

The punishment for the crime was very severe, and very summary. If oneof these swine-thieves was brought before Justice Crockett, and in hisjudgment the charge was proved against him, the sentence was--

"Take the thief, strip off his shirt, tie him to a tree, and give him asevere flogging. Then burn down his cabin, and drive him out of thecountry. "

There was no appeal from this verdict, and no evading its execution. Such was the justice which prevailed, in this remote region, until theLegislature of Alabama annexed the territory to Giles County, andbrought the region under the dominion of organized law. Crockett, whohad performed his functions to the entire satisfaction of thecommunity, then was legally appointed a justice of peace, and becamefully entitled to the appellation of esquire. He certainly could notthen pretend to any profound legal erudition, for at this time he couldneither read nor write. 

Esquire Crockett, commenting upon this transaction, says, "I was made aSquire, according to law; though now the honor rested more heavily uponme than before. For, at first, whenever I told my constable, says I, 'Catch that fellow, and bring him up for trial, ' away he went, and thefellow must come, dead or alive. For we considered this a good warrant, though it was only in verbal writing. 

"But after I was appointed by the Assembly, they told me that mywarrants must be in real writing and signed; and that I must keep abook and write my proceedings in it. This was a hard business on me, for I could just barely write my own name. But to do this, and writethe warrants too, was at least a huckleberry over my persimmon. I had apretty well informed constable, however, and he aided me very much inthis business. Indeed, I told him, when he should happen to be outanywhere, and see that a warrant was necessary, and would have a goodeffect, he needn't take the trouble to come all the way to me to getone, but he could just fill out one; and then, on the trial, I couldcorrect the whole business if he had committed any error. 

"In this way I got on pretty well, till, by care and attention, Iimproved my handwriting in such a manner as to be able to prepare mywarrants and keep my record-books without much difficulty. My judgmentswere never appealed from; and if they had been, they would have stucklike wax, as I gave my decisions on the principles of common justiceand honesty between man and man, and relied on natural-born sense, andnot on law-learning, to guide me; for I had never read a page in alaw-book in all my life. "

Esquire Crockett was now a rising man. He was by no means diffident. With strong native sense, imperturbable self-confidence, a memoryalmost miraculously stored with rude anecdotes, and an astonishingcommand of colloquial and slang language, he was never embarrassed, andnever at a loss as to what to say or to do. 

They were about getting up a new regiment of militia there, and aCaptain Mathews, an ambitious, well-to-do settler, with cribs full ofcorn, was a candidate for the colonelship. He came to Crockett toinsure his support, and endeavored to animate him to more cordialcooperation by promising to do what he could to have him elected majorof the regiment. Esquire Crockett at first declined, saying that he wasthoroughly disgusted with all military operations, and that he had nodesire for any such honors. But as Captain Mathews urged the question, and Crockett reflected that the office would give him some additionalrespect and influence with his neighbors, and that Major Crockett was avery pleasantly sounding title, he finally consented, and, of course, very soon became deeply interested in the enterprise. 

Captain Mathews, as an electioneering measure, invited all hisneighbors, far and near, to a very magnificent corn-husking frolic. There was to be a great treat on the occasion, and "all the world, " asthe French say, were eager to be there. Crockett and his family were ofcourse among the invited guests. When Crockett got there he found animmense gathering, all in high glee, and was informed, much to hissurprise and chagrin, that Captain Mathews's son had offered himselffor the office of major, in opposition to Crockett. 

The once had, in reality, but few charms for Crockett, and he did notcare much for it. But this unworthy treatment roused his indignation. He was by nature one of the most frank and open-hearted of men, andnever attempted to do anything by guile. Immediately he called CaptainMathews aside, and inquired what this all meant. The Captain was muchembarrassed, and made many lame excuses, saying that he would ratherhis son would run against any man in the county than against SquireCrockett. 

"You need give yourself no uneasiness about that, " Crockett replied. "Icare nothing for the office of major; I shall not allow my name to beused against your son for that office. But I shall do everything in mypower to prevent his father from being colonel. "

In accordance with the custom of the region and the times, after thefeasting and the frolicking, Captain Mathews mounted a stump, andaddressed the assembly in what was appropriately called a stump speech, advocating his election. 

The moment he closed, Squire Crockett mounted the stump, and on theCaptain's own grounds, addressing the Captain's guests, and himself oneof those guests, totally unabashed, made his first stump speech. He wasat no loss for words or ideas. He was full to the brim of fun. Hecould, without any effort, keep the whole assembly in roars oflaughter. And there, in the presence of Captain Mathews and his family, he argued his total unfitness to be the commander of a regiment. 

It is to be regretted that there was no reporter present to transmit tous that speech. It must have been a peculiar performance. It certainlyadded much to Crockett's reputation as an able man and an orator. Whenthe election came, both father and son were badly beaten. Soon after, acommittee waited upon Crockett, soliciting him to stand as candidatefor the State Legislature, to represent the two counties of Lawrenceand Hickman. 

Crockett was beginning to be ambitious. He consented. But he hadalready engaged to take a drove of horses from Central Tennessee to thelower part of North Carolina. This was a long journey, and going andcoming would take three months. He set out early in March, 1821. Uponhis return in June, he commenced with all zeal his electioneeringcampaign. Characteristically he says:

"It was a bran-fire new business to me. It now became necessary that Ishould tell the people something about the Government, and an eternalsight of other things that I know'd nothing more about than I did aboutLatin, and law, and such things as that. I have said before, that inthose days none of us called General Jackson the Government. But Iknow'd so little about it that if any one had told me that he was theGovernment, I should have believed it; for I had never read even anewspaper in my life, or anything else on the subject. "

Lawrence County bounded Giles County on the west. Just north ofLawrence came Hickman County. Crockett first directed his steps toHickman County, to engage in his "bran-fire" new work of electioneeringfor himself as a candidate for the Legislature. What ensued cannot bemore graphically told than in Crockett's own language:

"Here they told me that they wanted to move their town nearer to thecentre of the county, and I must come out in favor of it. There's nodevil if I know'd what this meant, or how the town was to be moved. Andso I kept dark, going on the identical same plan that I now find iscalled non-committal. 

"About this time there was a great squirrel-hunt, on Duck River, whichwas among my people. They were to hunt two days; then to meet and countthe scalps, and have a big barbecue, and what might be called a tip-topcountry frolic. The dinners and a general treat was all to be paid forby the party having taken the fewest scalps. I joined one side, and gota gun ready for the hunt. I killed a great many squirrels, and when wecounted scalps my party was victorious. 

"The company had everything to eat and drink that could be furnished ina new country; and much fun and good humor prevailed. But before theregular frolic commenced, I was called on to make a speech as acandidate, which was a business I was as ignorant of as an outlandishnegro. 

"A public document I had never seen. How to begin I couldn't tell. Imade many apologies, and tried to get off, for I know'd I had a man torun against who could speak prime. And I know'd, too that I wasn't ableto cut and thrust with him. He was there, and knowing my ignorance aswell as I did myself, he urged me to make a speech. The truth is, hethought my being a candidate was a mere matter of sport, and didn'tthink for a moment that he was in any danger from an ignorant backwoods bear-hunter. 

"But I found I couldn't get off. So I determined to go ahead, and leaveit to chance what I should say. I got up and told the people I reckonedthey know'd what I had come for; but if not, I could tell them. I hadcome for their votes, and if they didn't watch mighty close I'd getthem too. But the worst of all was, that I could not tell them anythingabout Government. I tried to speak about something, and I cared verylittle what, until I choked up as bad as if my mouth had been jamm'dand cramm'd chock-full of dry mush. There the people stood, listeningall the while, with their eyes, mouths, and ears all open to catchevery word I could speak. 

"At last I told them I was like a fellow I had heard of not longbefore. He was beating on the head of an empty barrel on the roadside, when a traveller, who was passing along, asked him what he was doingthat for? The fellow replied that there was some cider in that barrel afew days before, and he was trying to see if there was any then; but ifthere was, he couldn't get at it. I told them that there had been alittle bit of a speech in me a while ago, but I believed I couldn't getit out. 

"They all roared out in a mighty laugh, and I told some otheranecdotes, equally amusing to them, and believing I had them in afirst-rate way, I quit and got down, thanking the people for theirattention. But I took care to remark that I was as dry as apowder-horn, and that I thought that it was time for us all to wet ourwhistles a little. And so I put off to a liquor-stand, and was followedby the greater part of the crowd. 

"I felt certain this was necessary, for I know'd my competitor couldtalk Government matters to them as easy as he pleased. He had, however, mighty few left to hear him, as I continued with the crowd, now andthen taking a horn, and telling good-humored stories till he was donespeaking. I found I was good for the votes at the hunt; and when webroke up I went on to the town of Vernon, which was the same theywanted me to move. Here they pressed me again on the subject. I found Icould get either party by agreeing with them. But I told them I didn'tknow whether it would be right or not, and so couldn't promise eitherway. "

This famous barbecue was on Saturday. The next Monday the county courtheld its session at Vernon. There was a great gathering of the pioneersfrom all parts of the county. The candidates for the Governor of theState, for a representative in Congress, and for the State Legislature, were all present. Some of these men were of considerable ability, andcertainly of very fluent speech. The backwoodsmen, from their huts, where there were no books, no newspapers, no intelligent companionship, found this a rich intellectual treat. Their minds were greatly excitedas they listened to the impassioned and glowing utterances of speakerafter speaker; for many of these stump orators had command of a rudebut very effective eloquence. 

Crockett listened also, with increasing anxiety. He knew that his turnwas to come; that he must mount the stump and address the listeningthrong. He perceived that he could not speak as these men werespeaking; and perhaps for the first time in his life began toexperience some sense of inferiority. He writes:

"The thought of having to make a speech made my knees feel mighty weak, and set my heart to fluttering almost as bad as my first love-scrapewith the Quaker's niece. But as good luck would have it, these bigcandidates spoke nearly all day, and when they quit the people wereworn out with fatigue, which afforded me a good apology for notdiscussing the Government. But I listened mighty close to them, and waslearning pretty fast about political matters. When they were all done, I got up and told some laughable story, and quit. I found I was safe inthose parts; and so I went home, and did not go back again till afterthe election was over. But to cut this matter short, I was elected, doubling my competitor, and nine votes over. 

"A short time after this, I was at Pulaski, where I met with ColonelPolk, now a member of Congress from Tennessee. He was at that time amember elected to the Legislature, as well as myself. In a largecompany he said to me, 'Well, Colonel, I suppose we shall have aradical change of the judiciary at the next session of theLegislature. ' 'Very likely, sir, ' says I. And I put out quicker, for Iwas afraid some one would ask me what the judiciary was; and if Iknow'd I wish I may be shot. I don't indeed believe I had ever beforeheard that there was any such thing in all nature. But still I was notwilling that the people there should know how ignorant I was about it. "

At length the day arrived for the meeting of the Legislature. Crockettrepaired to the seat of government. With all his self-complacency hebegan to appreciate that he had much to learn. The two first items ofintelligence which he deemed it important that he, as a member of theLegislature, should acquire, were the meaning of the words governmentand judiciary. By adroit questioning and fixed thought, he ere longstored up those intellectual treasures. Though with but little capacityto obtain knowledge from books, he became an earnest student of theideas of his fellow-legislators as elicited in conversation or debate. Quite a heavy disaster, just at this time, came upon Crockett. We mustagain quote his own words, for it is our wish, in this volume, to givethe reader a correct idea of the man. Whatever Crockett says, evercomes fresh from his heart. He writes:

"About this time I met with a very severe misfortune, which I may bepardoned for naming, as it made a great change in my circumstances, andkept me back very much in the world. I had built an extensivegrist-mill and powder-mill, all connected together, and also a largedistillery. They had cost me upward of three thousand dollars; morethan I was worth in the world. The first news that I heard, after I gotto the Legislature, was that my mills were all swept to smash by alarge freshet that came soon after I left home. 

"I had, of course, to stop my distillery, as my grinding was broken up. And indeed I may say that the misfortune just made a complete mash ofme. I had some likely negroes, and a good stock of almost everythingabout me, and, best of all, I had an honest wife. She didn't advise me, as is too fashionable, to smuggle up this, and that, and t'other, to goon at home. But she told me, says she, 'Just pay up as long as you havea bit's worth in the world; and then everybody will be satisfied, andwe will scuffle for more. '

"This was just such talk as I wanted to hear, for a man's wife can holdhim devilish uneasy if she begins to scold and fret, and perplex him, at a time when he has a full load for a railroad car on his mindalready. And so, you see, I determined not to break full-handed, butthought it better to keep a good conscience with an empty purse, thanto get a bad opinion of myself with a full one. I therefore gave up allI had, and took a bran-fire new start. "

Crockett's legislative career was by no means brilliant, butcharacteristic. He was the fun-maker of the house, and, like Falstaff, could boast that he was not only witty himself, but the cause of wit inothers. His stories were irresistibly comic; but they almost alwayscontained expressions of profanity or coarseness which renders itimpossible for us to transmit them to these pages. He was an inimitablemimic, and had perfect command of a Dutchman's brogue. One of the leastobjectionable of his humorous stories we will venture to record. 

There were, he said, in Virginia, two Dutchmen, brothers, George andJake Fulwiler. They were both well to do in the world, and each owned agrist mill. There was another Dutchman near by, by the name of HenrySnyder. He was a mono-maniac, but a harmless man, occasionally thinkinghimself to be God. He built a throne, and would often sit upon it, pronouncing judgment upon others, and also upon himself. He would sendthe culprits to heaven or to hell, as his humor prompted. 

One day he had a little difficulty with the two Fulwilers. He took hisseat upon his throne, and in imagination summoning the culprits beforehim, thus addressed them:

"Shorge Fulwiler, stand up. What hash you been dain in dis lower world?"

"Ah! Lort, ich does not know. "

"Well, Shorge Fulwiler, hasn't you got a mill?"

"Yes, Lort, ich hash. "

"Well, Shorge Fulwiler, didn't you never take too much toll?"

"Yes, Lort, ich hash; when der water wash low, and mein stones washdull, ich take leetle too much toll. "

"Well, den, Shorge Fulwiler, you must go to der left mid der goats. "

"Well, Shake Fulwiler, now you stand up. What hash you been doin in dislower world?"

"Ah! Lort, ich does not know. "

"Well, Shake Fulwiler, hasn't you got a mill?"

"Yes, Lort, ich hash. "

"Well, Shake Fulwiler hasn't you never taken too much toll?"

"Yes Lort, ich hash; when der water wash low, and mein stones washdull, ich take leetle too much toll. "

"Well, den, Shake Fuhviler, you must go to der left mid der goats. "

"Now ich try menself. Henry Snyder, Henry Snyder, stand up. What hashyou bin dain in die lower world?"

"Ah, Lort, ich does not know. "

"Well, Henry Snyder, hasn't you got a mill?"

"Yes, Lort, ich hash. "

"Well, Henry Snyder, didn't you never take too much toll?"

"Yes, Lort, ich hash; when der water wash low, and mein stones washdull, ich hash taken leetle too much toll. "

"But, Henry Snyder, vat did you do mid der toll?"

"Ah, Lort, ich gives it to der poor. "

The judge paused for a moment, and then said, "Well, Henry Snyder, youmust go to der right mid der sheep. But it is a tight squeeze. "

Another specimen of his more sober forensic eloquence is to be found inthe following speech. There was a bill before the house for thecreation of a new county, and there was a dispute about theboundary-line. The author of the bill wished to run the line in adirection which would manifestly promote his own interest. Crockettarose and said:

"Mr. Speaker: Do you know what that man's bill reminds me of? Well, Is'pose you don't, so I'll tell you. Well, Mr. Speaker, when I firstcame to this country a blacksmith was a rare thing. But there happenedto be one in my neighborhood. He had no striker; and whenever one ofthe neighbors wanted any work done, he had to go over and strike untilhis work was finished. These were hard times, Mr. Speaker, but we hadto do the best we could. 

"It happened that one of my neighbors wanted an axe. So he took alongwith him a piece of iron, and went over to the blacksmith's to striketill his axe was done. The iron was heated, and my neighbor fell towork, and was striking there nearly all day; when the blacksmithconcluded that the iron wouldn't make an axe, but 'twould make a finemattock. 

"So my neighbor, wanting a mattock, concluded that he would go over andstrike till the mattock was done. Accordingly he went over the nextday, and worked faithfully. But toward night the blacksmith concludedhis iron wouldn't make a mattock but 'twould make a fine ploughshare. 

"So my neighbor, wanting a ploughshare, agreed that he would go overthe next day and strike till that was done. Accordingly he went over, and fell hard at work. But toward night the blacksmith concluded hisiron wouldn't make a ploughshare, but 'twould make a fine skow. So myneighbor, tired of working, cried, 'A skow let it be;' and theblacksmith, taking up the red-hot iron, threw it into a trough of hotwater near him, and as it fell in, it sung out skow. And this, Mr. Speaker, will be the way of that man's bill for a county. He'll keepyou all here, doing nothing, and finally his bill will turn up a skow;now mind if it don't. "

At this time, Crockett, by way of courtesy, was usually called colonel, as with us almost every respectable man takes the title of esquire. Oneof the members offended Colonel Crockett by speaking disrespectfully ofhim as from the back woods, or, as he expressed it, the gentleman fromthe cane. Crockett made a very bungling answer, which did not satisfyhimself. After the house adjourned, he very pleasantly invited thegentleman to take a walk with him. They chatted very sociably by theway, till, at the distance of about a mile, they reached a verysecluded spot, when the Colonel, turning to his opponent, said:

"Do you know what I brought you here for?"

"No, " was the reply. 

"Well, " added the Colonel, "I brought you here for the express purposeof whipping you; and now I mean to do it. "

"But, " says the Colonel, in recording the event, "the fellow said hedidn't mean anything, and kept 'pologizing till I got into good humor. "

They walked back as good friends as ever, and no one but themselvesknew of the affair. 

After the adjournment of the Legislature, Crockett returned to hisimpoverished home. The pecuniary losses he had encountered, induced himto make another move, and one for which it is difficult to conceive ofany adequate motive. He took his eldest son, a boy about eight years ofage, and a young man by the name of Abram Henry, and with onepack-horse to carry their blankets and provisions, plunged into thevast wilderness west of them, on an exploring tour, in search of a newhome. 

Crockett and the young man shouldered their rifles. Day after day thethree trudged along, fording streams, clambering hills, wadingmorasses, and threading ravines, each night constructing a frailshelter, and cooking by their camp-fire such game as they had taken bythe way. 

After traversing these almost pathless wilds a hundred and fifty miles, and having advanced nearly fifty miles beyond any white settlement, they reached the banks of a lonely stream, called Obion River, on theextreme western frontier of Tennessee. This river emptied into theMississippi but a few miles from the spot where Crockett decided torear his cabin. His nearest neighbor was seven miles distant, his nextfifteen, his next twenty. 

About ten years before, that whole region had been convulsed by one ofthe most terrible earthquakes recorded in history. One or two awfulhurricanes had followed the earthquake, prostrating the giganticforest, and scattering the trees in all directions. Appallingindications remained of the power expended by these tremendous forcesof nature. The largest forest-trees were found split from their rootsto their tops, and lying half on each side of a deep fissure. Theopening abysses, the entanglement of the prostrate forest, and thedense underbrush which had sprung up, rendered the whole region almostimpenetrable. The country was almost entirely uninhabited. It had, however, become quite celebrated as being the best hunting-ground inthe West. The fear of earthquakes and the general desolation hadprevented even the Indians from rearing their wigwams there. Consequently wild animals had greatly increased. The country was filledwith bears, wolves, panthers, deer, elks, and other smaller game. 

The Indians had recently made this discovery, and were, inever-increasing numbers, exploring the regions in hunting-bands. Crockett does not seem to have had much appreciation of the beautiful. In selecting a spot for his hut, he wished to be near some crystalstream where he could get water, and to build his hut upon landsufficiently high to be above the reach of freshets. It was alsodesirable to find a small plain or meadow free from trees, where hecould plant his corn; and to be in the edge of the forest, which wouldsupply him with abundance of fuel. Crockett found such a place, exactlyto his mind. Being very fond of hunting, he was the happiest of men. Afew hours' labor threw up a rude hut which was all the home he desired. His rifle furnished him with food, and with the skins of animals forbed and bedding. Every frontiersman knew how to dress the skin of deerfor moccasins and other garments. With a sharpened stick he punchedholes through the rank sod, and planted corn, in soil so rich that itwould return him several hundred-fold. 

Thus his tastes, such as they were, were gratified, and he enjoyed whatto him were life's luxuries. He probably would not have been willing toexchange places with the resident in the most costly mansion in ourgreat cities. In a few days he got everything comfortable around him. Crockett's cabin, or rather camp, was on the eastern side of the ObionRiver. Seven miles farther up the stream, on the western bank, a Mr. Owen had reared his log house. One morning, Crockett, taking the youngman Henry and his son with him, set out to visit Mr. Owen, his nearestneighbor. He hobbled his horse, leaving him to graze until he got back. 

They followed along the banks of the river, through the forest, untilthey reached a point nearly opposite Owen's cabin. By crossing thestream there, and following up the western bank they would be sure tofind his hut. There was no boat, and the stream must be swum or forded. Recent rains had caused it to overflow its banks and spread widely overthe marshy bottoms and low country near by. The water was icy cold. Andyet they took to it, says Crockett, "like so many beavers. "

The expanse to be crossed was very wide, and they knew not how deepthey should find the channel. For some distance the water continuedquite shoal. Gradually it deepened. Crockett led the way, with a polein his hand. Cautiously he sounded the depth before him, lest theyshould fall into any slough. A dense growth of young trees covered theinundated bottom over which they were wading. Occasionally they came toa deep but narrow gully. Crockett, with his hatchet, would cut down asmall tree, and by its aid would cross. 

At length the water became so deep that Crockett's little boy had toswim, though they evidently had not yet reached the channel of thestream. Having waded nearly half a mile, they came to the channel. Thestream, within its natural banks, was but about forty feet wide. Largeforest-trees fringed the shores. One immense tree, blown down by thewind, reached about halfway across. Crockett, with very arduous laborwith his hatchet, cut down another, so that it fell with the branchesof the two intertwining. 

Thus aided they reached the opposite side. But still the lowlandsbeyond were overflowed as far as the eye could see through the denseforest. On they waded, for nearly a mile, when, to their great joy, they came in sight of dry land. Their garments were dripping and theywere severely chilled as they reached the shore. But turning theirsteps up the stream, they soon came in sight of the cabin, which lookedto them like a paradise of rest. It was one of the rudest of huts. Thefenceless grounds around were rough and ungainly. The dismal forest, which chanced there to have escaped both earthquake and hurricane, spread apparently without limits in all directions. 

Most men, most women, gazing upon a scene so wild, lonely, cheerless, would have said, "Let me sink into the grave rather than be doomed tosuch a home as that. " But to Crockett and his companions it presentedall the attractions their hearts could desire. Mr. Owen and severalother men were just starting away from the cabin, when, to theirsurprise, they saw the party of strangers approaching. They waiteduntil Crockett came up and introduced himself. The men with Mr. Owenwere boatmen, who had entered the Obion River from the Mississippi witha boat-load of articles for trade. They were just leaving to continuetheir voyage. 

Such men are seldom in a hurry. Time is to them of but very littlevalue. Hospitality was a virtue which cost nothing. Any stranger, withhis rifle, could easily pay his way in the procurement of food. Theyall turned back and entered the cabin together. Mrs. Owen was anexcellent, motherly woman, about fifty years of age. Her sympathieswere immediately excited for the poor little boy, whose garments weredrenched, and who was shivering as if in an ague-fit. She replenishedthe fire, dried his clothes, and gave him some warm and nourishingfood. The grateful father writes:

"Her kindness to my little boy did me ten times as much good asanything she could have done for me, if she had tried her best. "

These were not the days of temperance. The whiskey-bottle wasconsidered one of the indispensables of every log cabin which made anypretences to gentility. The boat, moored near the shore, was loadedwith whiskey, flour, sugar, hardware, and other articles, valuable inthe Indian trade in the purchase of furs, and in great demand in thehuts of pioneers. There was a small trading-post at what was calledMcLemone's Bluff; about thirty miles farther up the river by land, andnearly one hundred in following the windings of the stream. This pointthe boatmen were endeavoring to reach. 

For landing their cargo at this point the boatmen were to receive fivehundred dollars, besides the profits of any articles they could sell inthe scattered hamlets they might encounter by the way. Thewhiskey-bottle was of course brought out. Crockett drank deeply; hesays, at least half a pint. His tongue was unloosed, and he became oneof the most voluble and entertaining of men. His clothes having beendried by the fire, and all having with boisterous merriment partaken ofa hearty supper, as night came on the little boy was left to the tendercare of Mrs. Owen, while the rest of the party repaired to the cabin ofthe boat, to make a night of it in drinking and carousal. 

They had indeed a wild time. There was whiskey in abundance. Crockettwas in his element, and kept the whole company in a constant roar. Their shouts and bacchanal songs resounded through the solitudes, withclamor and profaneness which must have fallen painfully upon angels'ears, if any of heaven's pure and gentle spirits were within hearingdistance. 

"We had, " writes Crockett, "a high night of it, as I took steam enoughto drive out all the cold that was in me, and about three times as muchmore. "

These boon companions became warm friends, according to the mostapproved style of backwoods friendship. Mr. Owen told the boatmen thata few miles farther up the river a hurricane had entirely prostratedthe forest, and that the gigantic trees so encumbered the stream thathe was doubtful whether the boat could pass, unless the water shouldrise higher. Consequently he, with Crockett and Henry, accompanied theboatmen up to that point to help them through, should it be possible toeffect a passage. But it was found impossible, and the boat droppeddown again to its moorings opposite Mr. Owen's cabin. 

As it was now necessary to wait till the river should rise, the boatmenand Mr. Owen all consented to accompany Crockett to the place where hewas to settle, and build his house for him. It seems very strange that, in that dismal wilderness, Crockett should not have preferred to buildhis cabin near so kind a neighbor. But so it was. He chose his lot at adistance of seven miles from any companionship. 

"And so I got the boatmen, " he writes, "all to go out with me to whereI was going to settle, and we slipped up a cabin in little or no time. I got from the boat four barrels of meal, one of salt, and about tengallons of whiskey. "

For these he paid in labor, agreeing to accompany the boatmen up theriver as far as their landing-place at McLemone's Bluff. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Life on the Obion. 

Hunting Adventures. --The Voyage up the River. --Scenes in theCabin. --Return Home. --Removal of the Family. --Crockett's Riches. --APerilous Enterprise. --Reasons for his Celebrity. --Crockett'sNarrative. --A Bear-Hunt. --Visit to Jackson. --Again a Candidate for theLegislature. --Electioneering and Election. 

The next day after building the cabin, to which Crockett intended tomove his family, it began to rain, as he says, "rip-roariously. " Theriver rapidly rose, and the boatmen were ready to resume their voyage. Crockett stepped out into the forest and shot a deer, which he left asfood for Abram Henry and his little boy, who were to remain in thecabin until his return. He expected to be absent six or seven days. Thestream was very sluggish. By poling, as it was called, that is, bypushing the boat with long poles, they reached the encumbrance causedby the hurricane, where they stopped for the night. 

In the morning, as soon as the day dawned, Crockett, thinking itimpossible for them to get through the fallen timber that day, took hisrifle and went into the forest in search of game. He had gone but ashort distance when he came across a fine buck. The animal fell beforehis unerring aim, and, taking the prize upon his shoulders, hecommenced a return to the boat. 

He had not proceeded far before he came upon the fresh tracks of a herdof elks. The temptation to follow their trail was to a veteran hunterirresistible. He threw down his buck, and had not gone far before hecame upon two more bucks, very large and splendid animals. Thebeautiful creatures, though manifesting some timidity, did not seemdisposed to run, but, with their soft, womanly eyes, gazed with wonderupon the approaching stranger. The bullet from Crockett's rifle struckbetween the eyes of one, and he fell dead. The other, his companion, exhibited almost human sympathy. Instead of taking to flight, he clungto his lifeless associate, looking down upon him as if someincomprehensible calamity had occurred. Crockett rapidly reloaded hisrifle, and the other buck fell dead. 

He hung them both upon the limb of a tree, so that they should not bedevoured by the wolves, and followed on in the trail of the elks. Hedid not overtake them until nearly noon. They were then beyondrifle-shot, and kept so, luring him on quite a distance. At length hesaw two other fine bucks, both of which he shot. The intellectualculture of the man may be inferred from the following characteristicdescription which he gives of these events:

"I saw two more bucks, very large fellows too. I took a blizzard at oneof them, and up he tumbled. The other ran off a few jumps and stopped, and stood there until I loaded again and fired at him. I knocked histrotters from under him, and then I hung them both up. I pushed onagain, and about sunset I saw three other bucks. I down'd with one ofthem, and the other two ran off. I hung this one up also, having killedsix that day. 

"I then pushed on till I got to the hurricane, and at the lower edge ofit, about where I expected the boat was. Here I hollered as hard as Icould roar, but could get no answer. I fired off my gun, and the men onthe boat fired one too. But, quite contrary to my expectations, theyhad got through the timber, and were about two miles above me. It wasnow dark, and I had to crawl through the fallen timber the best way Icould; and if the reader don't know it was bad enough, I am sure I do. For the vines and briers had grown all through it, and so thick that agood fat coon couldn't much more than get along. I got through at last, and went on to near where I had killed my last deer, and once morefired off my gun, which was again answered from the boat, which was alittle above me. I moved on as fast as I could, but soon came to water;and not knowing how deep it was, I halted, and hollered till they cameto me with a skiff. I now got to the boat without further difficulty. But the briers had worked on me at such a rate that I felt like Iwanted sewing up all over. I took a pretty stiff horn, which soon mademe feel much better. But I was so tired that I could scarcely work myjaws to eat. "

The next morning, Crockett took a young man with him and went out intothe woods to bring in the game he had shot. They brought in two of thebucks, which afforded them all the supply of venison they needed, andleft the others hanging upon the trees. The boatmen then pushed theirway up the river. The progress was slow, and eleven toilsome dayspassed before they reached their destination. Crockett had nowdischarged his debt, and prepared to return to his cabin. There was alight skiff attached to the large flat-bottomed boat in which they hadascended the river. This skiff Crockett took, and, accompanied by ayoung man by the name of Flavius Harris, who had decided to go backwith him, speedily paddled their way down the stream to his cabin. 

There were now four occupants of this lonely, dreary hut, which wassurrounded by forests and fallen trees and briers and brambles. Theyall went to work vigorously in clearing some land for a corn field, that they might lay in a store for the coming winter. The spring wasfar advanced, and the season for planting nearly gone. They had broughtsome seed with them on their pack-horse, and they soon had the pleasureof seeing the tender sprouts pushing up vigorously through theluxuriant virgin soil. It was not necessary to fence their field. Crockett writes:

"There was no stock nor anything else to disturb our corn except thewild varmints; and the old serpent himself, with a fence to help him, couldn't keep them out. "

Here Crockett and his three companions remained through the summer andinto the autumn, until they could gather in their harvest of corn. During that time they lived, as they deemed, sumptuously, upon game. Tokill a grizzly bear was ever considered an achievement of which anyhunter might boast. During the summer, Crockett killed ten of theseferocious monsters. Their flesh was regarded as a great delicacy. Andtheir shaggy skins were invaluable in the cabin for beds and bedding. He also shot deer in great abundance. The smaller game he took, of fatturkeys, partridges, pigeons, etc. , he did not deem worth enumerating. 

It was a very lazy, lounging, indolent life. Crockett could any morninggo into the woods and shoot a deer. He would bring all the desirableparts of it home upon his shoulders, or he would take his pack-horseout with him for that purpose. At their glowing fire, outside of thecabin if the weather were pleasant, inside if it rained, they wouldcook the tender steaks. They had meal for corn bread; and it will alsobe remembered that they had sugar, and ten gallons of whiskey. 

The deerskins were easily tanned into soft and pliant leather. They allknew how to cut these skins, and with tough sinews to sew them intohunting-shirts, moccasins, and other needed garments. SittingIndian-fashion on mattresses or cushions of bearskin, with just enoughto do gently to interest the mind, with no anxiety or thought evenabout the future, they would loiter listlessly through the long hoursof the summer days. 

Occasionally two or three Indians, on a hunting excursion, would visitthe cabin. These Indians were invariably friendly. Crockett had no moreapprehension that they would trouble him than he had that the elk orthe deer would make a midnight attack upon his cabin. Not unfrequentlythey would have a visit from Mr. Owen's household; or they would all goup to his hut for a carouse. Two or three times, during the summer, small parties exploring the country came along, and would rest a day ortwo under Crockett's hospitable roof. Thus with these men, with theirpeculiar habits and tastes, the summer probably passed away aspleasantly as with most people in this world of care and trouble. 

Early in the autumn, Crockett returned to Central Tennessee to fetchhis family to the new home. Upon reaching his cabin in Giles County, hewas met by a summons to attend a special session of the Legislature. Heattended, and served out his time, though he took but little interestin legislative affairs. His thoughts were elsewhere, and he wasimpatient for removal, before cold weather should set in, to hisfar-distant home. 

Late in October he set out with his little family on foot, for theirlong journey of one hundred and fifty miles through almost a pathlessforest. His poverty was extreme. But the peculiar character of the manwas such that he did net seem to regard that at all. Two pack-horsesconveyed all their household goods. Crockett led the party, with achild on one arm and his rifle on the other. He walked gayly along, singing as merrily as the birds. Half a dozen dogs followed him. Thencame the horses in single file. His wife and older children, followingone after the other in single file along the narrow trail, closed upthe rear. It was a very singular procession, thus winding its way, through forest and moor, over hills and prairies, to the silent shoresof the Mississippi. The eventful journey was safely accomplished, andhe found all things as he had left them. A rich harvest of golden earswas waving in his corn-field; and his comfortable cabin, in allrespects as comfortable as the one he had left, was ready to receiveits inmates. 

He soon gathered in his harvest, and was thus amply supplied with breadfor the winter. Fuel, directly at his hand, was abundant, and thus, aswe may say, his coal-bin was full. Game of every kind, exceptingbuffaloes, was ranging the woods, which required no shelter or food athis expense, and from which he could, at pleasure, select any varietyof the most delicious animal food he might desire. Thus his larder wasfull to repletion. The skins of animals furnished them with warm andcomfortable clothing, easily decorated with fringes and some brightcoloring, whose beauty was tasteful to every eye. Thus the familywardrobe was amply stored. Many might have deemed Crockett a poor man. He regarded himself as one of the lords of creation. 

Christmas was drawing nigh. It may be doubted whether Crockett had theslightest appreciation of the sacred character of that day whichcommemorates the advent of the Son of God to suffer and die for thesins of the world. With Crockett it had ever been a day ofjollification. He fired salutes with his rifle. He sung his merriestsongs. He told his funniest stories. He indulged himself in the highestexhilaration which whiskey could induce. 

As this holiday approached, Crockett was much troubled in finding thathis powder was nearly expended, and that he had none "to fire Christmasguns. " This seemed really to annoy him more than that he had none tohunt with. 

In the mean time, a brother-in-law had moved to that region, and hadreared his cabin at a distance of six miles from the hut of DavidCrockett, on the western bank of Rutherford's Fork, one of thetributaries of Obion River. He had brought with him a keg of powder forCrockett, which had not yet been delivered. 

The region all around was low and swampy. The fall rains had so swollenthe streams that vast extents of territory were inundated. All theriver-bottoms were covered with water. The meadows which lined theObion, where Crockett would have to pass, were so flooded that it wasall of a mile from shore to shore. 

The energy which Crockett displayed on the difficult and perilousjourney, illustrates those remarkable traits of character which havegiven him such wide renown. There must be something very extraordinaryabout a man which can make his name known throughout a continent. Andof the forty millions of people in the United States, there is scarcelyone, of mature years, who has not heard the name of David Crockett. 

When Crockett told his wife that he had decided to go to his brother'sfor the powder, she earnestly remonstrated, saying that it was at theimminent hazard of his life. The ground was covered with snow. He wouldhave to walk at least a mile through icy water, up to his waist, andwould probably have to swim the channel. He then, with drippingclothes, and through the cold wintry blast, would have to walk severalmiles before he could reach his brother's home. Crockett persisted inhis determination, saying, "I have no powder for Christmas, and we areout of meat. "

He put on some woollen wrappers and a pair of deerskin moccasins. Hethen tied up a small bundle; of clothes, with shoes and stockings, which he might exchange for his dripping garments when he should reachhis brother's cabin. I quote from his own account of the adventure. 

"I didn't before know how much a person could suffer and not die. Thesnow was about four inches deep when I started. And when I got to thewater, which was only about a quarter of a mile off, it looked like anocean. I put in, and waded on till I came to the channel, where Icrossed that on a high log. I then took water again, having my gun andall my hunting tools along, and waded till I came to a deep slough, that was wider than the river itself. I had often crossed it on a log;but behold, when I got there no log was to be seen. 

"I know'd of an island in the slough, and a sapling stood on it closeto the side of that log, which was now entirely under water. I know'dfurther, that the water was about eight or ten feet deep under the log, and I judged it to be three feet deep over it. After studying a littlewhat I should do, I determined to cut a forked sapling, which stoodnear me, so as to lodge it against the one that stood on the island. Inthis I succeeded very well. I then cut me a pole, and then crawledalong on my sapling till I got to the one it was lodged against, whichwas about six feet above the water. 

"I then felt about with the pole till I found the log, which was justabout as deep under the water as I had judged. I then crawled back andgot my gun, which I had left at the stump of the sapling I had cut, andagain made my way to the place of lodgment, and then climbed down theother sapling so as to get on the log. I felt my way along with my feetin the water about waist-deep, but it was a mighty ticklish business. However, I got over, and by this time I had very little feeling in myfeet and legs, as I had been all the time in the water, except whattime I was crossing the high log over the river and climbing my lodgedsapling. 

"I went but a short distance when I came to another slough, over whichthere was a log, but it was floating on the water. I thought I couldwalk it, so I mounted on it. But when I had got about the middle of thedeep water, somehow or somehow else, it turned over, and in I went upto my head. I waded out of this deep water, and went ahead till I cameto the highland, where I stopped to pull of my wet clothes, and put onthe others which I held up with my gun above water when I fell in. "

This exchanging of his dripping garments for dry clothes, standing inthe snow four inches deep, and exposed to the wintry blast, must havebeen a pretty severe operation. Hardy as Crockett was, he was sochilled and numbed by the excessive cold that his flesh had scarcelyany feeling. He tied his wet clothes together and hung them up on thelimb of a tree, to drip and dry He thought he would then set out on thefull run, and endeavor thus to warm himself by promoting the more rapidcirculation of his blood. But to his surprise he could scarcely move. With his utmost exertions he could not take a step more than six inchesin length. He had still five miles to walk, through a rough, pathlessforest, encumbered with snow. 

By great and painful effort he gradually recovered the use of hislimbs, and toiling along for two or three hours, late in the eveningwas cheered by seeing the light of a bright fire shining through thechinks between the logs of his brother's lonely cabin. He was receivedwith the utmost cordiality. Even his hardy pioneer brother listenedwith astonishment to the narrative of the perils he had surmounted andthe sufferings he had endured. After the refreshment of a warm supper, Crockett wrapped himself in a bearskin, and lying down upon the floor, with his feet to the fire, slept the sweet, untroubled sleep of a babe. In the morning he awoke as well as ever, feeling no bad consequencesfrom the hardships of the preceding day. 

The next morning a freezing gale from the north wailed through thesnow-whitened forest, and the cold was almost unendurable. The earnestpersuasions of his brother and his wife induced him to remain with themfor the day. But, with his accustomed energy, instead of enjoying thecosey comfort of the Fireside, he took his rifle, and went out into thewoods, wading the snow and breasting the gale. After the absence of anhour or two, he returned tottering beneath the load of two deer, whichhe had shot, and which he brought to the cabin on his shoulders. Thushe made a very liberal contribution to the food of the family, so thathis visit was a source of profit to them, not of loss. 

All the day, and during the long wintry night, the freezing blasts blewfiercely, and the weather grew more severely cold. The next morning hisfriends urged him to remain another day. They all knew that the waterwould be frozen over, but not sufficiently hard to bear his weight, andthis would add greatly to the difficulty and the danger of his return. It seemed impossible that any man could endure, on such a day, fordinga swollen stream, a mile in breadth, the water most of the way up tohis waist, in some places above his head, and breaking the ice at everystep. The prospect appalled even Crockett himself. He therefore decidedto remain till the next morning, though he knew that his family wouldbe left in a state of great anxiety. He hoped that an additional dayand night might so add to the thickness of the ice that it would bearhis weight. 

He therefore shouldered his musket and again went into the woods on ahunt. Though he saw an immense bear, and followed him for somedistance, he was unable to shoot him. After several hours' absence, hereturned empty-handed. 

Another morning dawned, lurid and chill, over the gloomy forest. Againhis friends entreated him not to run the risk of an attempt to returnin such fearful weather. "It was bitter cold, " he writes, "but I know'dmy family was without meat, and I determined to get home to them, ordie a-trying. "

We will let Crockett tell his own story of his adventures in going back:

"I took my keg of powder and all my hunting tools and cut out. When Igot to the water, it was a sheet of ice as far as I could see. I put onto it, but hadn't got far before it broke through with me; and so Itook out my tomahawk, and broke my way along before me for aconsiderable distance. 

"At last I got to where the ice would bear me for a short distance, andI mounted on it and went ahead. But it soon broke in again, and I hadto wade on till I came to my floating log. I found it so tight thistime, that I know'd it couldn't give me another fall, as it was frozenin with the ice. I crossed over it without much difficulty, and workedalong till I came to my lodged sapling and my log under the water. 

"The swiftness of the current prevented the water from freezing overit; and so I had to wade, just as I did when I crossed it before. WhenI got to my sapling, I left my gun, and climbed out with my powder-kegfirst, and then went back and got my gun. By this time, I was nearlyfrozen to death; but I saw all along before me where the ice had beenfresh broke, and I thought it must be a bear struggling about in thewater. I therefore fresh-primed my gun, and, cold as I was, I wasdetermined to make war on him if we met. But I followed the trail tillit led me home. Then I found that it had been made by my young man thatlived with me, who had been sent by my distressed wife to see, if hecould, what had become of me, for they all believed that I was dead. When I got home, I wasn't quite dead, but mighty nigh it; but had mypowder, and that was what I went for. "

The night after Crockett's return a heavy rain fell, which, towardmorning, turned to sleet. But there was no meat in the cabin. Therewere at that time three men who were inmates of that lowlyhut--Crockett, a young man, Flavius Harris, who had taken up his abodewith the pioneer, and a brother in-law, who had recently emigrated tothat wild country, and had reared his cabin not far distant fromCrockett's. They all turned out hunting. Crockett, hoping to get abear, went up the river into the dense and almost impenetrablethickets, where the gigantic forest had been swept low by thehurricane. The other two followed down the stream in search of turkeys, grouse, and such small game. 

Crockett took with him three dogs, one of which was an old hound, faithful, sagacious, but whose most vigorous days were gone. The dogswere essential in hunting bears. By their keen scent they would findthe animal, which fact they would announce to the hunter by their loudbarking. Immediately a fierce running fight would ensue. By this attackthe bear would be greatly retarded in his flight, so that the huntercould overtake him, and he would often be driven into a tree, where theunerring rifle-bullet would soon bring him down. 

The storm of sleet still raged, and nothing could be more gloomy thanthe aspect of dreariness and desolation which the wrecked forestpresented with its dense growth of briers and thorns. Crockett toiledthrough the storm and the brush about six miles up the river, and sawnothing. He then crossed over, about four miles, to another stream. Still no game appeared. The storm was growing more violent, the sleetgrowing worse and worse. Even the bears sought shelter from thepitiless wintry gale. The bushes were all bent down with the ice whichclung to their branches, and were so bound together that it was almostimpossible for any one to force his way through them. 

The ice upon the stream would bear Crockett's weight. He followed itdown a mile or two, when his dogs started up a large flock of turkeys. He shot two of them. They were immensely large, fat, and heavy. Tyingtheir legs together, he slung them over his shoulder, and with thisadditional burden pressed on his toilsome way. Ere long he became sofatigued that he was compelled to sit down upon a log to rest. 

Just then his dogs began to bark furiously. He was quite sure that theyhad found a bear. Eagerly he followed the direction they indicated, asfast as he could force his way along. To his surprise he found that thethree dogs had stopped near a large tree, and were barking furiously atnothing. But as soon as they saw him approaching they started offagain, making the woods resound with their baying. Having run about aquarter of a mile, he could perceive that again they had stopped. WhenCrockett reached them there was no game in sight. The dogs, barkingfuriously again, as soon as they saw him approaching plunged into thethicket. 

For a third time, and a fourth time, this was repeated. Crockett couldnot understand what it meant. Crockett became angry at being thusdeceived, and resolved that he would shoot the old hound, whom heconsidered the ringleader in the mischief, as soon as he got nearenough to do so. 

"With this intention, " he says, "I pushed on the harder, till I came tothe edge of an open prairie; and looking on before my dogs, I saw aboutthe biggest bear that ever was seen in America. He looked, at thedistance he was from me, like a large black bull. My dogs were afraidto attack him, and that was the reason they had stopped so often that Imight overtake them. "

This is certainly a remarkable instance of animal sagacity. The threedogs, by some inexplicable conference among themselves, decided thatthe enemy was too formidable for them to attack alone. They thereforesummoned their master to their aid. As soon as they saw that he wasnear enough to lend his cooperation, then they fearlessly assailed themonster. 

The sight inspired Crockett with new life. Through thickets, briers, and brambles they all rushed--bear, dogs, and hunter. At length, theshaggy monster, so fiercely assailed, climbed for refuge a largeblack-oak tree, and sitting among the branches, looked composedly downupon the dogs barking fiercely at its foot. Crockett crept up withinabout eighty yards, and taking deliberate aim at his breast, fired. Thebullet struck and pierced the monster directly upon the spot at whichit was aimed. The bear uttered a sharp cry, made a convulsive movementwith one paw, and remained as before. 

Speedily Crockett reloaded his rifle, and sent another bullet to followthe first. The shaggy brute shuddered in every limb, and then tumbledhead-long to the icy ground. Still he was not killed. The dogs plungedupon him, and there was a tremendous fight. The howling of the bear, and the frenzied barking of the dogs, with their sharp cries of pain asthe claws of the monster tore their flesh, and the deathly strugglewitnessed as they rolled over and over each other in the fierce fight, presented a terrific spectacle. 

Crockett hastened to the aid of his dogs. As soon as the bear saw himapproach, he forsook the inferior, and turned with all fury upon thesuperior foe. Crockett was hurrying forward with his tomahawk in onehand and his big butcher-knife in the other, when the bear, with eyesflashing fire, rushed upon him. Crockett ran back, seized his rifle, and with a third bullet penetrated the monster's brain and he felldead. The dogs and their master seemed to rejoice alike in their greatachievement. 

By the route which Crockett had pursued, he was about twelve miles fromhome. Leaving the huge carcass where the animal had fallen, heendeavored to make a straight line through the forest to his cabin. That he might find his way back again, he would, at every littledistance, blaze, as it was called, a sapling, that is, chip off some ofthe bark with his hatchet. When he got within a mile of home this wasno longer necessary. 

The other two men had already returned to the cabin. As the wolvesmight devour the valuable meat before morning, they all three set outimmediately, notwithstanding their fatigue and the still raging storm, and taking with them four pack-horses, hastened back to bring in theirtreasure. Crockett writes:

"We got there just before dark, and struck a fire, and commencedbutchering my bear. It was some time in the night before we finishedit. And I can assert, on my honor, that I believe he would have weighedsix hundred pounds. It was the second largest I ever saw. I killed one, a few years after, that weighed six hundred and seventeen pounds. I nowfelt fully compensated for my sufferings in going back after my powder;and well satisfied that a dog might sometimes be doing a good business, even when he seemed to be barking up the wrong tree. 

"We got our meat home, and I had the pleasure to know that we now had aplenty, and that of the best; and I continued through the winter tosupply my family abundantly with bear-meat, and venison from the woods. "

In the early spring, Crockett found that he had a large number ofvaluable skins on hand, which he had taken during the winter. Aboutforty miles southeast from Crockett's cabin, in the heart of MadisonCounty, was the thriving little settlement of Jackson. Crockett packedhis skins on a horse, shouldered his rifle, and taking his hardy littleson for a companion, set off there to barter his peltries for sucharticles of household use as he could convey back upon his horse. Thejourney was accomplished with no more than the ordinary difficulties. Asuccessful trade was effected, and with a rich store of coffee, sugar, powder, lead, and salt, the father and son prepared for their return. 

Crockett found there some of his old fellow-soldiers of the Creek War. When all things were ready for a start, he went to bid adieu to hisfriends and to take a parting dram with them. There were three menpresent who were candidates for the State Legislature. While they werehaving a very merry time, one, as though uttering a thought which hadthat moment occurred to him, exclaimed, "Why, Crockett, you ought tooffer yourself for the Legislature for your district. " Crockettreplied, "I live at least forty miles from any white settlement. " Herethe matter dropped. 

About ten days after Crockett's return home, a stranger, passing along, stopped at Crockett's cabin and told him that he was a candidate forLegislature, and took from his pocket a paper, and read to him theannouncement of the fact. There was something in the style of thearticle which satisfied Crockett that there was a little disposition tomake fun of him; and that his nomination was intended as a burlesque. This roused him, and he resolved to put in his claim with all his zeal. He consequently hired a man to work upon his farm, and set out on anelectioneering tour. 

Though very few people had seen Crockett, he had obtained veryconsiderable renown in that community of backwoodsmen as a greatbear-hunter. Dr. Butler, a man of considerable pretensions, and, bymarriage, a nephew of General Jackson, was the rival candidate, and aformidable one. Indeed, he and his friends quite amused themselves withthe idea that "the gentleman from the cane, " as they contemptuouslydesignated Crockett, could be so infatuated as to think that there wasthe least chance for him. The population of that wilderness region wasso scarce that the district for which a representative was to be chosenconsisted of eleven counties. 

A great political gathering was called, which was to be held in MadisonCounty, which was the strongest of them all. Here speeches were to bemade by the rival candidates and their friends, and electioneering wasto be practised by all the arts customary in that rude community. Thenarrative of the events which ensued introduces us to a very singularstate of society. At the day appointed there was a large assembly, inevery variety of backwoods costume, among the stumps and the lowlycabins of Jackson. Crockett mingled with the crowd, watching events, listening to everything which was said, and keeping himself as far aspossible unknown. 

Dr. Butler, seeing a group of men, entered among them, and called forwhiskey to treat them all. The Doctor had once met Crockett when a fewweeks before he had been in Jackson selling his furs. He however didnot recognize his rival among the crowd. As the whiskey was passingfreely around, Crockett thought it a favorable moment to make himselfknown, and to try his skill at an electioneering speech. He was agood-looking man, with a face beaming with fun and smiles, and a clear, ringing voice. He jumped upon a stump and shouted out, in tones whichsounded far and wide, and which speedily gathered all around him. 

"Hallo! Doctor Butler; you don't know me do you? But I'll make you knowme mighty well before August. I see they have weighed you out againstme. But I'll beat you mighty badly. "

Butler pleasantly replied, "Ah, Colonel Crockett, is that you? Wheredid you come from?"

Crockett rejoined, "Oh, I have just crept out from the cane, to seewhat discoveries I could make among the white folks. You think you havegreatly the advantage of me, Butler. 'Tis true I live forty miles fromany settlement. I am poor, and you are rich. You see it takes twocoonskins here to buy a quart. But I've good dogs, and my little boysat home will go to their death to support my election. They are mightyindustrious. They hunt every night till twelve o'clock. It keeps thelittle fellows mighty busy to keep me in whiskey. When they gets tired, I takes my rifle and goes out and kills a wolf, for which the Statepays me three dollars. So one way or other I keeps knocking along. "

Crockett perhaps judged correctly that the candidate who could furnishthe most whiskey would get the most votes. He thus adroitly informedthese thirsty men of his readiness and his ability to furnish them withall the liquor they might need. Strange as his speech seems to us, itwas adapted to the occasion, and was received with roars of laughterand obstreperous applause. 

"Well, Colonel, " said Dr. Butler, endeavoring to clothe his owncountenance with smiles, "I see you can beat me electioneering. "

"My dear fellow, " shouted out Crockett, "you don't call thiselectioneering, do you? When you see me electioneering, I goes fixedfor the purpose. I've got a suit of deer-leather clothes, with two bigpockets. So I puts a bottle of whiskey in one, and a twist of tobaccoin t'other, and starts out. Then, if I meets a friend, why, I pulls outmy bottle and gives him a drink. He'll be mighty apt, before he drinks, to throw away his tobacco. So when he's done, I pulls my twist out oft'other pocket and gives him a chaw. I never likes to leave a man worseoff than when I found him. If I had given him a drink and he had losthis tobacco, he would not have made much. But give him tobacco, and adrink too, and you are mighty apt to get his vote. "

With such speeches as these, interlarded with fun and anecdote, and aliberal supply of whiskey, Crockett soon made himself known through allthe grounds, and he became immensely popular. The backwoodsmen regardedhim as their man, belonging to their class and representing theirinterests. 

Dr. Butler was a man of some culture, and a little proud andoverbearing in his manners. He had acquired what those poor men deemedconsiderable property. He lived in a framed house, and in his best roomhe had a rug or carpet spread over the middle of the floor. This carpetwas a luxury which many of the pioneers had never seen or conceived of. The Doctor, standing one day at his window, saw several persons, whosevotes he desired, passing along, and he called them in to take a drink. 

There was a table in the centre of the room, with choice liquors uponit. The carpet beneath the table covered only a small portion of thefloor, leaving on each side a vacant space around the room. The mencautiously walked around this space, without daring to put their feetupon the carpet. After many solicitations from Dr. Butler, and seeinghim upon the carpet, they ventured up to the table and drank. They, however, were under great restraint, and soon left, manifestly notpleased with their reception. 

Calling in at the next log house to which they came, they found thereone of Crockett's warm friends. They inquired of him what kind of a manthe great bear-hunter was, and received in reply that he was afirst-rate man, one of the best hunters in the world; that he was not abit proud; that he lived in a log cabin, without any glass for hiswindows, and with the earth alone for his floor. 

"Ah!" they exclaimed with one voice, "he's the fellow for us. We'llnever give our votes for such a proud man as Butler. He called us intohis house to take a drink, and spread down one of his best bed-quiltsfor us to walk on. It was nothing but a piece of pride. "

The day of election came, and Crockett was victorious by a majority oftwo hundred and forty-seven votes. Thus he found himself a second timea member of the Legislature of the State of Tennessee, and with acelebrity which caused all eyes to be turned toward "the gentleman fromthe cane. "

CHAPTER IX. 

Adventures in the Forest, on the River, and in the City

The Bear Hunter's Story. --Service in the Legislature. --Candidate forCongress. --Electioneering. --The New Speculation. --DisastrousVoyage. --Narrow Escape. --New Electioneering Exploits. --OddSpeeches. --The Visit to Crockett's Cabin. --His Political Views. --HisHonesty. --Opposition to Jackson. --Scene at Raleigh. --Dines with thePresident. --Gross Caricature. --His Annoyance. 

Crockett was very fond of hunting-adventures, and told stories of theseenterprises in a racy way, peculiarly characteristic of the man. Thefollowing narrative from his own lips, the reader will certainly perusewith much interest. 

"I was sitting by a good fire in my little cabin, on a cool Novemberevening, roasting potatoes I believe, and playing with my children, when some one halloed at the fence. I went out, and there were threestrangers, who said they come to take an elk-hunt. I was glad to see'em, invited 'em in, and after supper we cleaned our guns. I took downold Betsey, rubbed her up, greased her, and laid her away to rest. Sheis a mighty rough old piece, but I love her, for she and I have seenhard times. She mighty seldom tells me a lie. If I hold her right, shealways sends the ball where I tell her, After we were all fixed, I told'em hunting-stories till bedtime. 

"Next morning was clear and cold, and by times I sounded my horn, andmy dogs came howling 'bout me, ready for a chase. Old Rattler was alittle lame--a bear bit him in the shoulder; but Soundwell, Tiger, andthe rest of 'em were all mighty anxious. We got a bite, and saddled ourhorses. I went by to git a neighbor to drive for us, and off we startedfor the Harricane. My dogs looked mighty wolfish; they kept jumping onone another and growling. I knew they were run mad for a fight, forthey hadn't had one for two or three days. We were in fine spirits, andgoing 'long through very open woods, when one of the strangers said, 'Iwould give my horse now to see a bear. '

"Said I, 'Well, give me your horse, ' and I pointed to an old bear, about three or four hundred yards ahead of us, feeding on acorns. 

"I had been looking at him some time, but he was so far off; I wasn'tcertain what it was. However, I hardly spoke before we all strainedoff; and the woods fairly echoed as we harked the dogs on. The old beardidn't want to run, and he never broke till we got most upon him; butthen he buckled for it, I tell you. When they overhauled him he justrared up on his hind legs, and he boxed the dogs 'bout at a mightyrate. He hugged old Tiger and another, till he dropped 'em nearlylifeless; but the others worried him, and after a while they all cometo, and they give him trouble. They are mighty apt, I tell you, to givea bear trouble before they leave him. 

"'Twas a mighty pretty fight--'twould have done any one's soul good tosee it, just to see how they all rolled about. It was as much as Icould do to keep the strangers from shooting him; but I wouldn't let'em, for fear they would kill some of my dogs. After we got tiredseeing 'em fight, I went in among 'em, and the first time they got himdown I socked my knife in the old bear. We then hung him up, and wenton to take our elk-hunt. You never seed fellows so delighted as themstrangers was. Blow me, if they didn't cut more capers, jumping about, than the old bear. 'Twas a mighty pretty fight, but I believe I seedmore fun looking at them than at the bear. 

"By the time we got to the Harricane, we were all rested, and ripe fora drive. My dogs were in a better humor, for the fight had just takenoff the wiry edge. So I placed the strangers at the stands throughwhich I thought the elk would pass, sent the driver way up ahead, and Iwent down below. 

"Everything was quiet, and I leaned old Betsey 'gin a tree, and laiddown. I s'pose I had been lying there nearly an hour, when I heard oldTiger open. He opened once or twice, and old Rattler gave a long howl;the balance joined in, and I knew the elk were up. I jumped up andseized my rifle. I could hear nothing but one continued roar of all mydogs, coming right towards me. Though I was an old hunter, the musicmade my hair stand on end. Soon after they first started, I heard onegun go off, and my dogs stopped, but not long, for they took a littletack towards where I had placed the strangers. One of them fired, andthey dashed back, and circled round way to my left. I run down 'bout aquarter of a mile, and I heard my dogs make a bend like they werecoming to me. While I was listening, I heard the bushes breaking stilllower down, and started to run there. 

"As I was going 'long, I seed two elks burst out of the Harricane 'boutone hundred and thirty or forty yards below me. There was an old buckand a doe. I stopped, waited till they got into a clear place, and asthe old fellow made a leap, I raised old Bet, pulled trigger, and shespoke out. The smoke blinded me so, that I couldn't see what I did; butas it cleared away, I caught a glimpse of only one of them goingthrough the bushes; so I thought I had the other. I went up, and therelay the old buck kicking. I cut his throat, and by that time, Tiger andtwo of my dogs came up. I thought it singular that all my dogs wasn'tthere, and I began to think they had killed another. After the dogs hadbit him, and found out he was dead, old Tiger began to growl, andcurled himself up between his legs. Everything had to stand off then, for he wouldn't let the devil himself touch him. 

"I started off to look for the strangers. My two dogs followed me. After gitting away a piece, I looked back, and once in a while I couldsee old Tiger git up and shake the elk, to see if he was really dead, and then curl up between his legs agin. I found the strangers round adoe elk the driver had killed; and one of 'em said he was sure he hadkilled one lower down. I asked him if he had horns. He said he didn'tsee any. I put the dogs on where he said he had shot, and they didn'tgo fur before they came to a halt. I went up, and there lay a fine buckelk; and though his horns were four or five feet long, the fellow whoshot him was so scared that he never saw them. We had three elk, and abear; and we managed to git it home, then butchered our game, talkedover our hunt, and had a glorious frolic. "

Crockett served in the Legislature for two years, during which timenothing occurred of special interest. These were the years of 1823 and1824. Colonel Alexander was then the representative, in the NationalLegislature, of the district in which Crockett lived. He had offendedhis constituents by voting for the Tariff. It was proposed to runCrockett for Congress in opposition to him. Crockett says:

"I told the people that I could not stand that. It was a step above myknowledge; and I know'd nothing about Congress matters. "

They persisted; but he lost the election; for cotton was very high, andAlexander urged that it was in consequence of the Tariff. Two yearspassed away, which Crockett spent in the wildest adventures of hunting. He was a true man of the woods with no ambition for any better homethan the log cabin he occupied. There was no excitement so dear to himas the pursuit and capture of a grizzly bear. There is nothing onrecord, in the way of hunting, which surpasses the exploits of thisrenowned bear-hunter. But there is a certain degree of sameness inthese narratives of skill and endurance which would weary the reader. 

In the fall of 1825, Crockett built two large flat-boats, to load withstaves for the making of casks, which he intended to take down theriver to market. He employed a number of hands in building the boat andsplitting out the staves, and engaged himself in these labors "till thebears got fat. " He then plunged into the woods, and in two weeks killedfifteen. The whole winter was spent in hunting with his son and hisdogs. His workmen continued busy getting the staves, and when therivers rose with the spring floods, he had thirty thousand ready forthe market. 

With this load he embarked for New Orleans. His boats withoutdifficulty floated down the Obion into the majestic Mississippi. It wasthe first time he had seen the rush of these mighty waters. There wasbefore him a boat voyage of nearly fifteen hundred miles, throughregions to him entirely unknown. In his own account of this adventurehe writes:

"When I got into the Mississippi I found all my hands were bad scared. In fact, I believe I was scared a little the worst of any; for I hadnever been down the river, and I soon discovered that my pilot was asignorant of the business as myself. I hadn't gone far before Idetermined to lash the two boats together. We did so; but it made themso heavy and obstinate that it was next akin to impossible to do anything at all with them, or to guide them right in the river. 

"That evening we fell in company with some Ohio boats, and about nightwe tried to land, but we could not. The Ohio men hollered to us to goon and run all night. We took their advice, though we had a good dealrather not. But we couldn't do any other way. In a short distance wegot into what is called the Devil's Elbow. And if any place in the widecreation has its own proper name I thought it was this. Here we hadabout the hardest work that I was ever engaged in in my life, to keepout of danger. And even then we were in it all the while. We twiceattempted to land at Wood Yards, which we could see, but couldn't reach. 

"The people would run out with lights, and try to instruct us how toget to shore; but all in vain. Our boats were so heavy that we couldnot take them much any way except the way they wanted to go, and justthe way the current would carry them. At last we quit trying to land, and concluded just to go ahead as well as we could, for we found wecouldn't do any better. 

"Some time in the night I was down in the cabin of one of the boats, sitting by the fire, thinking on what a hobble we had got into; and howmuch better bear-hunting was on hard land, than floating along on thewater, when a fellow had to go ahead whether he was exactly willing ornot. The hatch-way of the cabin came slap down, right through the topof the boat; and it was the only way out, except a small hole in theside which we had used for putting our arms through to dip up waterbefore we lashed the boats together. 

"We were now floating sideways, and the boat I was in was the hindmostas we went. All at once I heard the hands begin to run over the top ofthe boat in great confusion, and pull with all their might. And thefirst thing I know'd after this we went broadside full tilt against thehead of an island, where a large raft of drift timber had lodged. Thenature of such a place would be, as everybody knows, to suck the boatsdown and turn them right under this raft; and the uppermost boat would, of course, be suck'd down and go under first. As soon as we struck, Ibulged for my hatchway, as the boat was turning under sure enough. Butwhen I got to it, the water was pouring through in a current as largeas the hole would let it, and as strong as the weight of the riverwould force it. I found I couldn't get out here, for the boat was nowturned down in such a way that it was steeper than a house-top. I nowthought of the hole in the side, and made my way in a hurry for that. 

"With difficulty I got to it, and when I got there, I found it was toosmall for me to get out by my own power, and I began to think that Iwas in a worse box than ever. But I put my arms through, and holleredas loud as I could roar, as the boat I was in hadn't yet quite filledwith water up to my head; and the hands who were next to the raft, seeing my arms out, and hearing me holler, seized them, and began topull. I told them I was sinking, and to pull my arms off, or force methrough, for now I know'd well enough it was neck or nothing, come outor sink. 

"By a violent effort they jerked me through; but I was in a prettypickle when I got through. I had been sitting without any clothing overmy shirt; this was tom off, and I was literally skinn'd like a rabbit. I was, however, well pleased to get out in any way, even without shirtor hide; as before I could straighten myself on the boat next to theraft, the one they pull'd me out of went entirely under, and I havenever seen it any more to this day. We all escaped on to the raft, where we were compelled to sit all night, about a mile from land oneither side. Four of my company were bareheaded, and three barefooted;and of that number I was one. I reckon I looked like a pretty cracklinever to get to Congress!

"We had now lost all our loading, and every particle of our clothing, except what little we had on; but over all this, while I was sittingthere, in the night, floating about on the drift, I felt happier andbetter off than I ever had in my life before, for I had just made sucha marvellous escape, that I had forgot almost everything else in that;and so I felt prime. 

"In the morning about sunrise, we saw a boat coming down, and we hailedher. They sent a large skiff, and took us all on board, and carried usdown as far as Memphis. Here I met with a friend, that I never canforget as long as I am able to go ahead at anything; it was a MajorWinchester, a merchant of that place; he let us all have hats, andshoes, and some little money to go upon, and so we all parted. 

"A young man and myself concluded to go on down to Natchez, to see ifwe could hear anything of our boats; for we supposed they would floatout from the raft, and keep on down the river. We got on a boat atMemphis, that was going down, and so cut out. Our largest boat, we wereinformed, had been seen about fifty miles below where we stove, and anattempt had been made to land her, but without success, as she was ashard-headed as ever. 

"This was the last of my boats, and of my boating; for it went so badlywith me along at the first, that I had not much mind to try it anymore. I now returned home again, and, as the next August was theCongressional election, I began to turn my attention a little to thatmatter, as it was beginning to be talked of a good deal among thepeople. "

Cotton was down very low. Crockett could now say to the people: "Yousee the effects of the Tariff. " There were two rival candidates for theoffice, Colonel Alexander and General Arnold. Money was needed to carrythe election, and Crockett had no money. He resolved, however, to tryhis chances. A friend loaned him a little money to start with; whichsum Crockett, of course, expended in whiskey, as the most potentinfluence, then and there, to secure an election. 

"So I was able, " writes Crockett, "to buy a little of the 'creature, 'to put my friends in a good humor, as well as the other gentlemen, forthey all treat in that country; not to get elected, of course, for thatwould be against the law, but just to make themselves and their friendsfeel their keeping a little. "

The contest was, as usual, made up of drinking, feasting, and speeches. Colonel Alexander was an intelligent and worthy man, who had beenpublic surveyor. General Arnold was a lawyer of very respectableattainments. Neither of these men considered Crockett a candidate inthe slightest degree to be feared. They only feared each other, andtried to circumvent each other. 

On one occasion there was a large gathering, where all three of thecandidates were present, and each one was expected to make a speech. Itcame Crockett's lot to speak first. He knew nothing of Congressionalaffairs, and had sense enough to be aware that it was not best for himto attempt to speak upon subjects of which he was entirely ignorant. Hemade one of his funny speeches, very short and entirely non-committal. Colonel Alexander followed, endeavoring to grapple with the greatquestions of tariffs, finance, and internal improvements, which werethen agitating the nation. 

General Arnold then, in his turn, took the stump, opposing the measureswhich Colonel Alexander had left. He seemed entirely to ignore the factthat Crockett was a candidate. Not the slightest allusion was made tohim in his speech. The nervous temperament predominated in the man, andhe was easily annoyed. While speaking, a large flock of guinea-henscame along, whose peculiar and noisy cry all will remember who haveever heard it. Arnold was greatly disturbed, and at last requested someone to drive the fowls away. As soon as he had finished his speech, Crockett again mounted the stump, and ostensibly addressing Arnold, butreally addressing the crowd, said, in a loud voice, but very jocosely:

"Well, General, you are the first man I ever saw that understood thelanguage of fowls. You had not the politeness even to allude to me inyour speech. But when my little friends the guinea-hens came up, andbegan to holler 'Crockett, Crockett, Crockett, ' you were ungenerousenough to drive them all away. "

This raised such a universal laugh that even Crockett's opponentsfeared that he was getting the best of them in winning the favor of thepeople. When the day of election came, the popular bear-hunter beatboth of his competitors by twenty-seven hundred and forty-seven votes. Thus David Crockett, unable to read and barely able to sign his name, became a member of Congress, to assist in framing laws for the grandestrepublic earth has ever known. He represented a constituency of aboutone hundred thousand souls. 

An intelligent gentleman, travelling in West Tennessee, finding himselfwithin eight miles of Colonel Crockett's cabin, decided to call uponthe man whose name had now become quite renowned. This was just afterCrockett's election to Congress, but before he had set out forWashington. There was no road leading to the lonely hut. He followed arough and obstructed path or trail, which was indicated only by blazedtrees, and which bore no marks of being often travelled. 

At length he came to a small opening in the forest, very rude anduninviting in its appearance. It embraced eight or ten acres. One ofthe humblest and least tasteful of log huts stood in the centre. It wastruly a cabin, a mere shelter from the weather. There was no yard;there were no fences. Not the slightest effort had been made towardornamentation. It would be difficult to imagine a more lonely andcheerless abode. 

Two men were seated on stools at the door, both in their shirt-sleeves, engaged in cleaning their rifles. As the stranger rode up, one of themen rose and came forward to meet him. He was dressed in very plainhomespun attire, with a black fur cap upon his head. He was a finelyproportioned man, about six feet high, apparently forty-five years ofage, and of very frank, pleasing, open countenance. He held his riflein his hand, and from his right shoulder hung a bag made of raccoonskin, to which there was a sheath attached containing a largebutcher-knife. 

"This is Colonel Crockett's residence, I presume, " said the stranger. 

"Yes, " was the reply, with a smile as of welcome. 

"Have I the pleasure of seeing that gentleman before me?" the strangeradded. 

"If it be a pleasure, " was the courtly reply, "you have, sir. "

"Well, Colonel, " responded the stranger, "I have ridden much out of myway to spend a day or two with you, and take a hunt. "

"Get down, sir, " said the Colonel, cordially. "I am delighted to seeyou. I like to see strangers. And the only care I have is that I cannotaccommodate them as well as I could wish. I have no corn, but my littleboy will take your horse over to my son-in-law's. He is a good fellow, and will take care of him. "

Leading the stranger into his cabin, Crockett very courteouslyintroduced him to his brother, his wife, and his daughters. He thenadded:

"You see we are mighty rough here. I am afraid you will think it hardtimes. But we have to do the best we can. I started mighty poor, andhave been rooting 'long ever since. But I hate apologies. What I liveupon always, I think a friend can for a day or two. I have but little, but that little is as free as the water that runs. So make yourself athome. "

Mrs. Crockett was an intelligent and capable woman for one in herstation in life. The cabin was clean and orderly, and presented ageneral aspect of comfort. Many trophies of the chase were in thehouse, and spread around the yard. Several dogs, looking like war-wornveterans, were sunning themselves in various parts of the premises. 

All the family were neatly dressed in home-made garments. Mrs. Crockettwas a grave, dignified woman, very courteous to her guests. Thedaughters were remarkably pretty, but very diffident. Though entirelyuneducated, they could converse very easily, seeming to inherit theirfather's fluency of utterance. They were active and efficient in aidingtheir mother in her household work. Colonel Crockett, with muchapparent pleasure, conducted his guest over the small patch of groundhe had grubbed and was cultivating. He exhibited his growing peas andpumpkins, and his little field of corn, with as much apparent pleasureas an Illinois farmer would now point out his hundreds of acres ofwaving grain. The hunter seemed surprisingly well informed. As we havementioned, nature had endowed him with unusual strength of mind, andwith a memory which was almost miraculous. He never forgot anything hehad heard. His electioneering tours had been to him very valuableschools of education. Carefully he listened to all the speeches and theconversation of the intelligent men he met with. 

John Quincy Adams was then in the Presidential chair. It was the year1827. Nearly all Crockett's constituents were strong Jackson-men. Crockett, who afterward opposed Jackson, subsequently said, speaking ofhis views at that time:

"I can say on my conscience, that I was, without disguise, the friendand supporter of General Jackson upon his principles, as he had laidthem down, and as I understood them, before his election as President. "

Alluding to Crockett's political views at that time, his guest writes, "I held in high estimation the present Administration of our country. To this he was opposed. His views, however, delighted me. And were theymore generally adopted we should be none the loser. He was opposed tothe Administration, and yet conceded that many of its acts were wiseand efficient, and would have received his cordial support. He admiredMr. Clay, but had objections to him. He was opposed to the Tariff, yet, I think, a supporter of the United States Bank. He seemed to have themost horrible objection to binding himself to any man or set of men. Hesaid, 'I would as lieve be an old coon-dog as obliged to do what anyman or set of men would tell me to do. I will support the presentAdministration as far as I would any other; that is, as far as Ibelieve its views to be right. I will pledge myself to support noAdministration. I had rather be politically damned than hypocriticallyimmortalized. '"

In the winter of 1827, Crockett emerged from his cabin in thewilderness for a seat in Congress. He was so poor that he had not moneyenough to pay his expenses to Washington. His election had cost him onehundred and fifty dollars, which a friend had loaned him. The samefriend advanced one hundred dollars more to help him on his journey. 

"When I left home, " he says, "I was happy, devilish, and full of fun. Ibade adieu to my friends, dogs, and rifle, and took the stage, where Imet with much variety of character, and amused myself when my humorprompted. Being fresh from the backwoods, my stories amused mycompanions, and I passed my time pleasantly. 

"When I arrived at Raleigh the weather was cold and rainy, and we wereall dull and tired. Upon going into the tavern, where I was an entirestranger, the room was crowded, and the crowd did not give way that Imight come to the fire. I was rooting my way to the fire, not in a goodhumor, when some fellow staggered up towards me, and cried out, 'Hurrahfor Adams. '

"Said I, 'Stranger, you had better hurrah for hell, and praise your owncountry. '

"'And who are you? said he. I replied:

"'I am that same David Crockett, fresh from the backwoods, half horse, half alligator, a little touched with the snapping-turtle. I can wadethe Mississippi, leap the Ohio, ride upon a streak of lightning, andslip without a scratch down a honey-locust. I can whip my weight inwildcats, and, if any gentleman pleases, for a ten-dollar bill he canthrow in a panther. I can hug a bear too close for comfort, and eat anyman opposed to General Jackson. '"

All eyes were immediately turned toward this strange man, for all hadheard of him. A place was promptly made for him at the fire. He wasafterward asked if this wondrous outburst of slang was entirelyunpremeditated. He said that it was; that it had all popped into hishead at once; and that he should never have thought of it again, hadnot the story gone the round of the newspapers. 

"I came on to Washington, " he says, "and drawed two hundred and fiftydollars, and purchased with it a check on the bank in Nashville, andenclosed it to my friend. And I may say, in truth, I sent this moneywith a mighty good will, for I reckon nobody in this world loves afriend better than me, or remembers a kindness longer. "

Soon after his arrival at Washington he was invited to dine withPresident Adams, a man of the highest culture, whose manners had beenformed in the courts of Europe. Crockett, totally unacquainted with theusages of society, did not know what the note of invitation meant, andinquired of a friend, the Hon. Mr. Verplanck. He says:

"I was wild from the backwoods, and didn't know nothing about eatingdinner with the big folks of our country. And how should I, having beena hunter all my life? I had eat most of my dinners on a log in thewoods, and sometimes no dinner at all. I knew, whether I ate dinnerwith the President or not was a matter of no importance, for myconstituents were not to be benefited by it. I did not go to court thePresident, for I was opposed to him in principle, and had no favors toask at his hands. I was afraid, however, I should be awkward, as I wasso entirely a stranger to fashion; and in going along, I resolved toobserve the conduct of my friend Mr. Verplanck, and to do as he did. And I know that I did behave myself right well. "

Some cruel wag wrote the following ludicrous account of thisdinner-party, which went the round of all the papers as veritablehistory. The writer pretended to quote Crockett's own account of thedinner. 

"The first thing I did, " said Davy, "after I got to Washington, was togo to the President's. I stepped into the President's house. Thinks I, who's afeard. If I didn't, I wish I may be shot. Says I, 'Mr. Adams, Iam Mr. Crockett, from Tennessee. ' So, says he, 'How d'ye do, Mr. Crockett?' And he shook me by the hand, although he know'd I went thewhole hog for Jackson. If he didn't, I wish I may be shot. 

"Not only that, but he sent me a printed ticket to dine with him. I'vegot it in my pocket yet. I went to dinner, and I walked all around thelong table, looking for something that I liked. At last I took my seatbeside a fat goose, and I helped myself to as much of it as I wanted. But I hadn't took three bites, when I looked away up the table at a manthey called Tash (attache'). He was talking French to a woman ont'other side of the table. He dodged his head and she dodged hers, andthen they got to drinking wine across the table. 

"But when I looked back again my plate was gone, goose and all. So Ijist cast my eyes down to t'other end of the table, and sure enough Iseed a white man walking off with my plate. I says, 'Hello, mister, bring back my plate. ' He fetched it back in a hurry, as you may think. And when he set it down before me, how do you think it was? Licked asclean as my hand. If it wasn't, I wish I may be shot!

"Says he, 'What will you have, sir?' And says I, 'You may well saythat, after stealing my goose. ' And he began to laugh. Then says I, 'Mister, laugh if you please; but I don't half-like sich tricks upontravellers. ' I then filled my plate with bacon and greens. And wheneverI looked up or down the table, I held on to my plate with my left hand. 

"When we were all done eating, they cleared everything off the table, and took away the table-cloth. And what do you think? There was anothercloth under it. If there wasn't, I wish I may be shot! Then I saw a mancoming along carrying a great glass thing, with a glass handle below, something like a candlestick. It was stuck full of little glass cups, with something in them that looked good to eat. Says I, 'Mister, bringthat thing here. ' Thinks I, let's taste them first. They were mightysweet and good, so I took six of them. If I didn't, I wish I may beshot!"

This humorous fabrication was copied into almost every paper in theUnion. The more respectable portion of Crockett's constituents were soannoyed that their representative should be thus held up to thecontempt of the nation, that Crockett felt constrained to present areliable refutation of the story. He therefore obtained and publishedcertificates from three gentlemen, testifying to his good behavior atthe table. Hon. Mr. Verplanck, of New York, testified as follows:

"I dined at the President's, at the time alluded to, in company withyou, and I had, I recollect, a good deal of conversation with you. Yourbehavior there was, I thought, perfectly becoming and proper. And I donot recollect, or believe, that you said or did anything resembling thenewspaper-account. "

Two other members of Congress were equally explicit in their testimony. 

During Crockett's first two sessions in Congress he got along verysmoothly, cooperating generally with what was called the Jackson party. In 1829 he was again reelected by an overwhelming majority. On the 4thof March of this year, Andrew Jackson was inaugurated President of theUnited States. It may be doubted whether there ever was a more honest, conscientious man in Congress than David Crockett. His celebratedmotto, "Be sure that you are right, and then go ahead, " seemed ever toanimate him. He could neither be menaced or bribed to support anymeasure which he thought to be wrong. Ere long he found it necessary tooppose some of Jackson's measures. We will let him tell the story inhis own truthful words:

"Soon after the commencement of this second term, I saw, or thought Idid, that it was expected of me that I would bow to the name of AndrewJackson, and follow him in all his motions, and windings, and turnings, even at the expense of my conscience and judgment. Such a thing was newto me, and a total stranger to my principles. I know'd well enough, though, that if I didn't 'hurrah' for his name, the hue and cry was tobe raised against me, and I was to be sacrificed, if possible. Hisfamous, or rather I should say his infamous Indian bill was broughtforward, and I opposed it from the purest motives in the world. Severalof my colleagues got around me, and told me how well they loved me, andthat I was ruining myself. They said this was a favorite measure of thePresident, and I ought to go for it. I told them I believed it was awicked, unjust measure, and that I should go against it, let the costto myself be what it might; that I was willing to go with GeneralJackson in everything that I believed was honest and right; but, further than this, I wouldn't go for him or any other man in the wholecreation. 

"I had been elected by a majority of three thousand five hundred andeighty-five votes, and I believed they were honest men, and wouldn'twant me to vote for any unjust notion, to please Jackson or any oneelse; at any rate, I was of age, and determined to trust them. I votedagainst this Indian bill, and my conscience yet tells me that I gave agood, honest vote, and one that I believe will not make me ashamed inthe day of judgment. I served out my term, and though many amusing, things happened, I am not disposed to swell my narrative by insertingthem. 

"When it closed, and I returned home, I found the storm had raisedagainst me sure enough; and it was echoed from side to side, and fromend to end of my district, that I had turned against Jackson. This wasconsidered the unpardonable sin. I was hunted down like a wild varment, and in this hunt every little newspaper in the district, and everylittle pinhook lawyer was engaged. Indeed, they were ready to printanything and everything that the ingenuity of man could invent againstme. "

In consequence of this opposition, Crockett lost his next election, andyet by a majority of but seventy votes. For two years he remained athome hunting bears. But having once tasted the pleasures of politicallife, and the excitements of Washington, his silent rambles in thewoods had lost much of their ancient charms. He was again a candidateat the ensuing election, and, after a very warm contest gained the dayby a majority of two hundred and two votes. 

CHAPTER X. 

Crockett's Tour to the North and the East. 

His Reelection to Congress. --The Northern Tour. --First Sight of aRailroad. --Reception in Philadelphia. --His First Speech. --Arrival inNew York. --The Ovation there. --Visit to Boston. --Cambridge andLowell. --Specimens of his Speeches. --Expansion of his Ideas. --RapidImprovement. 

Colonel Crockett, having been reelected again repaired to Washington. During the session, to complete his education, and the better toprepare himself as a legislator for the whole nation, he decided totake a short trip to the North and the East. His health had also begunto fail, and his physicians advised him to go. He was thoroughlyacquainted with the Great West. With his rifle upon his shoulder, inthe Creek War, he had made wide explorations through the South. But theNorth and the East were regions as yet unknown to him. 

On the 25th of April, 1834, he left Washington for this Northern tour. He reached Baltimore that evening, where he was invited to a supper bysome of the leading gentlemen. He writes:

"Early next morning. I started for Philadelphia, a place where I hadnever been. I sort of felt lonesome as I went down to the steamboat. The idea of going among a new people, where there are tens of thousandswho would pass me by without knowing or caring who I was, who are alltaken up with their own pleasures or their own business, made me feelsmall; and, indeed, if any one who reads this book has a grand idea ofhis own importance, let him go to a big city, and he will find that heis not higher valued than a coonskin. 

"The steamboat was the Carroll of Carrollton, a fine craft, with therum old Commodore Chaytor for head man. A good fellow he is--all sortsof a man--bowing and scraping to the ladies, nodding to the gentlemen, cursing the crew, and his right eye broad-cast upon the 'oppositionline, ' all at the same time. 'Let go!' said the old one, and off wewalked in prime style. 

"Our passage down Chesapeake Bay was very pleasant. In a very short runwe came to a place where we were to get on board the rail-cars. Thiswas a clean new sight to me. About a dozen big stages hung on to onemachine. After a good deal of fuss we all got seated and moved slowlyoff; the engine wheezing as though she had the tizzic. By-and-by, shebegan to take short breaths, and away we went, with a blue streak afterus. The whole distance is seventeen miles. It was run in fifty-fiveminutes. 

"At Delaware City, I again embarked on board of a splendid steamboat. When dinner was ready, I set down with the rest of the passengers. Among them was Rev. O. B. Brown, of the Post-Office Department, who satnear me. During dinner he ordered a bottle of wine, and called upon mefor a toast. Not knowing whether he intended to compliment me, or abashme among so many strangers, or have some fun at my expense, I concludedto go ahead, and give him and his like a blizzard. So our glasses beingfilled, the word went round, 'A toast from Colonel Crockett. ' I give itas follows: 'Here's wishing the bones of tyrant kings may answer inhell, in place of gridirons, to roast the souls of Tories on. ' At thisthe parson appeared as if he was stumpt. I said, 'Never heed; it wasmeant for where it belonged. ' He did not repeat his invitation, and Ieat my dinner quietly. 

"After dinner I went up on the deck, and saw the captain hoisting threeflags. Says I, 'What does that mean?' He replied, that he was underpromise to the citizens of Philadelphia, if I was on board, to hoisthis flags, as a friend of mine had said he expected I would be alongsoon. 

"We went on till we came in sight of the city and as we advancedtowards the wharf, I saw the whole face of the earth covered withpeople, all anxiously looking on towards the boat. The captain andmyself were standing on the bow-deck; he pointed his finger at me, andpeople slung their hats, and huzzaed for Colonel Crockett. It struck mewith astonishment to hear a strange people huzzaing for me, and made mefeel sort of queer. It took me so uncommon unexpected, as I had no ideaof attracting attention. But I had to meet it, and so I stepped on tothe wharf, where the folks came crowding around me, saying, 'Give methe hand of an honest man. ' I did not know what all this meant: butsome gentleman took hold of me, and pressing through the crowd, put meinto an elegant barouche, drawn by four fine horses; they then told meto bow to the people: I did so, and with much difficulty we moved off. The streets were crowded to a great distance, and the windows full ofpeople, looking out, I suppose, to see the wild man. I thought I hadrather be in the wilderness with my gun and dogs, than to be attractingall that fuss. I had never seen the like before, and did not knowexactly what to say or do. After some time we reached the United StatesHotel, in Chesnut Street. "

"The crowd had followed me filling up the street, and pressing into thehouse to shake hands. I was conducted up stairs, and walked out on aplatform, drew off my hat, and bowed round to the people. They criedout from all quarters, 'A speech, a speech, Colonel Crockett. '

"After the noise had quit, so I could be heard, I said to them thefollowing words:

"'GENTLEMEN OF PHILADELPHIA:

"'My visit to your city is rather accidental. I had no expectation ofattracting any uncommon attention. I am travelling for my health, without the least wish of exciting the people in such times of highpolitical feeling. I do not wish to encourage it. I am unable at thistime to find language suitable to return my gratitude to the citizensof Philadelphia. However, I am almost induced to believe itflattery--perhaps a burlesque. This is new to me, yet I see nothing butfriendship in your faces; and if your curiosity is to hear thebackwoodsman, I will assure you I am illy prepared to address this mostenlightened people. However, gentlemen, if this is a curiosity to you, if you will meet me to-morrow, at one o'clock, I will endeavor toaddress you, in my plain manner. '

"So I made my obeisance to them, and retired into the house. "

It is true that there was much of mere curiosity in the desire to seeColonel Crockett. He was a strange and an incomprehensible man. Hismanly, honest course in Congress had secured much respect. But suchdevelopments of character as were shown in his rude and vulgar toast, before a party of gentlemen and ladies, excited astonishment. Hisnotoriety preceded him, wherever he went; and all were alike curious tosee so strange a specimen of a man. 

The next morning, several gentlemen called upon him, and took him in acarriage to see the various objects of interest in the city. Thegentlemen made him a present of a rich seal, representing two horses atfull speed, with the words, "Go Ahead. " The young men also made him apresent of a truly magnificent rifle. From Philadelphia he went to NewYork. The shipping astonished him. "They beat me all hollow, " he says, "and looked for all the world like a big clearing in the West, with thedead trees all standing. "

There was a great crowd upon the wharf to greet him. And when thecaptain of the boat led him conspicuously forward, and pointed him outto the multitude, the cheering was tremendous. A committee conductedhim to the American Hotel, and treated him with the greatestdistinction. Again he was feted, and loaded with the greatestattentions. He was invited to a very splendid supper, got up in hishonor, at which there were a hundred guests. The Hon. Judge Clayton, ofGeorgia, was present, and make a speech which, as Crockett says, fairlymade the tumblers hop. 

Crockett was then called up, as the "undeviating supporter of theConstitution and the laws. " In response to this toast, he says, "I made a short speech, and concluded with the story of the red cow, which was, that as long as General Jackson went straight, I followedhim; but when he began to go this way, and that way, and every way, Iwouldn't go after him; like the boy whose master ordered him to ploughacross the field to the red cow. Well, he began to plough, and shebegan to walk; and he ploughed all forenoon after her. So when themaster came, he swore at him for going so crooked. 'Why, sir, ' said theboy, 'you told me to plough to the red cow, and I kept after her, butshe always kept moving. '"

His trip to New York was concluded by his visiting Jersey City towitness a shooting-match with rifles. He was invited to try his hand. Standing, at the distance of one hundred and twenty feet, he firedtwice, striking very near the centre of the mark. Some one then put upa quarter of a dollar in the midst of a black spot, and requested himto shoot at it. The bullet struck the coin, and as Crockett says madeslight-of-hand work with it. 

From New York he went to Boston. There, an the opponent of some ofPresident Jackson's measures which were most offensive to the NewEngland people, he was feted with extraordinary enthusiasm. He dinedand supped, made speeches, which generally consisted of but one shortanecdote, and visited nearly all the public institutions. 

Just before this, Andrew Jackson had received from Harvard Universitythe honorary title of LL. D. Jackson was no longer a favorite ofCrockett. The new distinguished guest, the renowned bear-hunter, was inhis turn invited to visit Harvard. He writes:

"There were some gentlemen that invited me to go to Cambridge, wherethe big college or university is, where they keep ready-made titles ornick-names to give people. I would not go, for I did not know but theymight stick an LL. D. On me before they let me go; and I had no idea ofchanging 'Member of the House of Representatives of the United States, 'for what stands for 'lazy, lounging dunce, ' which I am sure myconstituents would have translated my new title to be. Knowing that Ihad never taken any degree, and did not own to any--except a smalldegree of good sense not to pass for what I was not--I would not go it. There had been one doctor made from Tennessee already, and I had nowish to put on the cap and bells. 

"I told them that I did not go to this branding school; I did not wantto be tarred with the same stick; one dignitary was enough fromTennessee; that as far as my learning went, I would stand over it, andspell a strive or two with any of them, from a-b-ab to crucifix, whichwas where I left off at school. "

A gentleman, at a dinner-party, very earnestly invited Crockett tovisit him. He returned the compliment by saying:

"If you ever come to my part of the country, I hope you will call andsee me. "

"And how shall I find where you live?" the gentleman inquired. 

"Why, sir, " Crockett answered, "run down the Mississippi till you cometo the Oberon River. Run a small streak up that; jump ashore anywhere, and inquire for me. "

From Boston, he went to Lowell. The hospitality he had enjoyed inBoston won his warmest commendation. At Lowell, he was quite charmed bythe aspect of wealth, industry, and comfort which met his eye. Upon hisreturn to Boston, he spent the evening, with several gentlemen andladies at the pleasant residence of Lieutenant-Governor Armstrong. Inreference to this visit, he writes:

"This was my last night in Boston, and I am sure, if I never see theplace again, I never can forget the kind and friendly manner in which Iwas treated by them. It appeared to me that everybody was anxious toserve me, and make my time agreeable. And as a proof that comeshome--when I called for my bill next morning, I was told there was nocharge to be paid by me, and that he was very much delighted that I hadmade his house my home. I forgot to mention that they treated me so inLowell--but it is true. This was, to me, at all events, proof enough ofYankee liberality; and more than they generally get credit for. Infact, from the time I entered New England, I was treated with thegreatest friendship; and, I hope, never shall forget it; and I wish allwho read this book, and who never were there, would take a trip amongthem. If they don't learn how to make money, they will know how to useit; and if they don't learn industry, they will see how comfortableeverybody can be that turns his hands to some employment. "

Crockett was not a mere joker. He was an honest man, and an earnestman; and under the tuition of Congress had formed some very decidedpolitical principles, which he vigorously enforced with his rudeeloquence. 

When he first went to Congress he was merely a big boy, of very strongmind, but totally uninformed, and uncultivated. He very rapidlyimproved under the tuition of Congress; and in some degree awoke to theconsciousness of his great intellectual imperfections. Still he wasnever diffident. He closed one of his off-hand after-dinner speeches inBoston, by saying:

"Gentlemen of Boston, I come here as a private citizen, to see you, andnot to show myself. I had no idea of attracting attention. But I feelit my duty to thank you, with my gratitude to you, and with a gratitudeto all who have given a plain man, like me, so kind a reception. I comefrom a great way off. But I shall never repent of having been persuadedto come here, and get a knowledge of your ways, which I can carry homewith me. We only want to do away prejudice and give the peopleinformation. 

"I hope, gentlemen, you will excuse my plain, unvarnished ways, whichmay seem strange to you here. I never had but six months' schooling inall my life. And I confess, I consider myself a poor tyke to be hereaddressing the most intelligent people in the world. But I think it theduty of every representative of the people, when he is called upon, togive his opinions. And I have tried to give you a little touch of mine. "

Every reader will be interested in the perusal of the following seriousspeech, which he made in Boston. It is a fair specimen of his bestefforts, and will give one a very correct idea of his trains ofthought, and modes of expression. It also clearly shows the greatquestions which agitated the country at that time. It can easily beperceived that, as a stump orator in the far West, Crockett might haveexercised very considerable power. This phase of his peculiar characteris as worthy of consideration as any other. 

"GENTLEMEN:

"By the entire friendship of the citizens of Boston, as well as theparticular friendship with which you have received me this evening, Ihave been brought to reflect on times that have gone by, and review aprejudice that has grown up with me, as well as thousands of my Westernand Southern friends. We have always been taught to look upon thepeople of New England as a selfish, cunning set of fellows, that wasfed on fox-ears and thistle-tops; that cut their wisdom-teeth as soonas they were born; that made money by their wits, and held on to it bynature; that called cheatery mother-wit; that hung on to politicalpower because they had numbers; that raised up manufactures to keepdown the South and West; and, in fact, had so much of the devil in alltheir machinery, that they would neither lead nor drive, unless theload was going into their own cribs. But I assure you, gentlemen, Ibegin to think different of you, and I think I see a good many goodreasons for so doing. 

"I don't mean that because I eat your bread and drink your liquor, thatI feel so. No; that don't make me see clearer than I did. It is yourhabits, and manners, and customs; your industry; your proud, independent spirits; your hanging on to the eternal principles of rightand wrong; your liberality in prosperity, and your patience when youare ground down by legislation, which, instead of crushing you, whetsyour invention to strike a path without a blaze on a tree to guide you;and above all, your never-dying, deathless grip to our gloriousConstitution. These are the things that make me think that you are amighty good people. "

Here the speaker was interrupted by great applause. 

"Gentlemen, I believe I have spoke the truth, and not flattery; I ain'tused to oily words; I am used to speak what I think, of men, and tomen. I am, perhaps, more of a come-by-chance than any of you ever saw;I have made my way to the place I now fill, without wealth, and againsteducation; I was raised from obscurity, and placed in the high councilsof the nation, by the kindness and liberality of the good people of mydistrict--a people whom I will never be unfaithful to, here orelsewhere; I love them, and they have honored me; and according as Godhas given me judgment, I'll use it for them, come of me what may. 

"These people once passed sentence upon me of a two years'stay-at-home, for exercising that which I contend belongs to everyfreeman in this nation: that was, for differing in opinion with thechief magistrate of this nation. I was well acquainted with him. He wasbut a man; and, if I was not before, my constituents had made a man ofme. I had marched and counter-marched with him: I had stood by him inthe wars, and fought under his flag at the polls: I helped to heap themeasure of glory that has crushed and smashed everything that has comein contact with it: I helped to give him the name of 'Hero, ' which, like the lightning from heaven, has scorched and blasted everythingthat stood in its way--a name which, like the prairie fire, you have toburn against, or you are gone--a name which ought to be the first inwar, and the last in peace--a name which, like 'Jack-o'-the lantern, blinds your eyes while you follow it through mud and mire. 

"Gentlemen, I never opposed Andrew Jackson for the sake of popularity. I knew it was a hard row to hoe; but I stood up to the rack, considering it a duty I owed to the country that governed me. I hadreviewed the course of other Presidents, and came to the conclusionthat he did not of right possess any more power than those that hadgone before him. When he transcended that power, I put down my foot. Iknew his popularity; that he had come into place with the largestmajority of any one that had gone before him, who had opposition: butstill, I did not consider this as giving him the right to do as hepleased, and construe our Constitution to meet his own views. 

"We had lived the happiest people under the sun for fifty years, governed by the Constitution and laws, on well-establishedconstructions: and when I saw the Government administered on newprinciples, I objected, and was politically sacrificed: I persisted inmy sins, having a clear conscience, that before God and my country, Ihad done my duty. 

"My constituents began to look at both sides; and finally, at the endof two years, approving of my course, they sent me back to Congress--acircumstance which was truly gratifying to me. 

"Gentlemen, I opposed Andrew Jackson in his famous Indian bill, wherefive hundred thousand dollars were voted for expenses, no part of whichhas yet been accounted for, as I have seen. I thought it extravagant aswell as impolitic. I thought the rights reserved to the Indians wereabout to be frittered away; and events prove that I thought correct. 

"I had considered a treaty as the sovereign law of the land; but nowsaw it considered as a matter of expedience, or not, as it pleased thepowers that be. Georgia bid defiance to the treaty-making power, andset at nought the Intercourse Act of 1802; she trampled it under foot;she nullified it: and for this, she received the smiles and approbationof Andrew Jackson. And this induced South Carolina to nullify theTariff. She had a right to expect that the President was favorable tothe principle: but he took up the rod of correction, and shook it overSouth Carolina, and said at the same time to Georgia, 'You may nullify, but South Carolina shall not. '

"This was like his consistency in many other matters. When he was aSenator in Congress, he was a friend to internal improvements, andvoted for them. Everything then that could cement the States together, by giving them access the one to the other, was right. When he got intopower, some of his friends had hard work to dodge, and follow, andshout. I called off my dogs, and quit the hunt. Yes, gentlemen, Pennsylvania, and Ohio, and Tennessee, and other States, voted for him, as a supporter of internal improvements. 

"Was he not a Tariff man? Who dare deny it! When did we first hear ofhis opposition? Certainly not in his expression that he was in favor ofa judicious tariff. That was supposed to be a clincher, even in NewEngland, until after power lifted him above the opposition of thesupporters of a tariff. 

"He was for putting down the monster 'party, ' and being the Presidentof the people. Well, in one sense, this he tried to do: he put downevery one he could who was opposed to him, either by reward orpunishment; and could all have come into his notions, and bowed theknee to his image, I suppose it might have done very well, so far as hewas concerned. Whether it would have been a fair reading of his famousletter to Mr. Monroe, is rather questionable. He was to reform theGovernment. Now, if reformation consists in turning out and putting in, he did it with a vengeance. 

"He was, last of all, to retrench the expenditures. Well, in time, Ihave no doubt, this must be done; but it will not consist in theabolishing useless expenditures of former Administrations. No, gentlemen; the spoils belonged to the victor; and it would never do tolessen the teats when the litter was doubled. The treasury trough hadto be extended, and the pap thickened; kin were to be provided for; andif all things keep on as they are, his own extravagances will have tobe retrenched, or you will get your tariff up again as high as youplease. 

"I recollect a boy once, who was told to turn the pigs out of thecorn-field. Well, he made a great noise, hallooing and calling thedogs--and came back. By-and-by his master said, 'Jim, you rascal! youdidn't turn out the pigs. ' 'Sir, ' said he, 'I called the dogs, and setthem a-barking. '

"So it was with that big Retrenchment Report, in 1828. Major Hamiltongot Chilton's place as chairman--and called the dogs. Ingham workedhonestly, like a beaver; Wickliff was as keen as a cutworm: all of themworked hard; and they did really, I suppose, convince themselves thatthey had found out a great deal of iniquity; or, what was moredesirable, convinced the people that Andrew Jackson and his boys werethe only fellows to mend shoes for nothing, and find their own candles. Everett and Sargeant, who made the minority report, were scouted at. What has come of all this? Nothing--worse than nothing. Jackson usedthese very men like dogs: they knew too much, and must be got rid off, or they would stop his profligacy too. They were greased and swallowed:and he gave them up to the torments of an anti-Jackson conscience. 

"Yes, gentlemen, as long as you think with him, very well; but ifnot--clear out; make way for some fellow who has saved his wind; andbecause he has just begun to huzza, has more wind to spare. GeneralJackson has turned out more men for opinion's sake, than all otherPresidents put together, five times over: and the broom sweeps so lowthat it reaches the humblest officer who happens to have a meanneighbor to retail any little story which he may pick up. 

"I voted for Andrew Jackson because I believed he possessed certainprinciples, and not because his name was Andrew Jackson, or the Hero, or Old Hickory. And when he left those principles which induced me tosupport him, I considered myself justified in opposing him. This thingof man-worship I am a stranger to; I don't like it; it taints everyaction of life; it is like a skunk getting into a house--long after hehas cleared out, you smell him in every room and closet, from thecellar to the garret. 

"I know nothing, by experience, of party discipline. I would rather bea raccoon-dog, and belong to a negro in the forest, than to belong toany party, further than to do justice to all, and to promote theinterests of my country. The time will and must come, when honesty willreceive its reward, and when the people of this nation will be broughtto a sense of their duty, and will pause and reflect how much it costus to redeem ourselves from the government of one man. It cost thelives and fortunes of thousands of the best patriots that ever lived. Yes, gentlemen, hundreds of them fell in sight of your own city. 

"I this day walked over the great battle-ground of Bunker's Hill, andthought whether it was possible that it was moistened with the sacredblood of our heroes in vain, and that we should forget what they foughtfor. 

"I hope to see our once happy country restored to its former peace andhappiness, and once more redeemed from tyranny and despotism, which, Ifear, we are on the very brink of. We see the whole country incommotion: and for what? Because, gentlemen, the true friends ofliberty see the laws and Constitution blotted out from the heads andhearts of the people's leaders: and their requests for relief aretreated with scorn and contempt. They meet the same fate that they didbefore King George and his parliament. It has been decided by amajority of Congress, that Andrew Jackson shall be the Government, andthat his will shall be the law of the land. He takes theresponsibility, and vetoes any bill that does not meet his approbation. He takes the responsibility, and seizes the treasury, and removes itfrom where the laws had placed it; and now, holding purse and sword, has bid defiance to Congress and to the nation. 

"Gentlemen, if it is for opposing those high-handed measures that youcompliment me, I say I have done so, and will do so, now and forever. Iwill be no man's man, and no party's man, other than to be the people'sfaithful representative: and I am delighted to see the noble spirit ofliberty retained so boldly here, where the first spark was kindled; andI hope to see it shine and spread over our whole country. 

"Gentlemen, I have detained you much longer than I intended: allow meto conclude by thanking you for your attention and kindness to thestranger from the far West. "

The following extract also shows the candor of his mind, his anxiety tolearn, and the progress his mind was making in the science of politicaleconomy:

"I come to your country to get a knowledge of things, which I could getin no other way but by seeing with my own eyes, and hearing with myawful ears--information I can't get, and nobody else, from bookknowledge. I come, fellow-citizens, to get a knowledge of themanufacturing interest of New England. I was over-persuaded to come bya gentleman who had been to Lowell and seen the manufactories of yourState--by General Thomas, of Louisiana. He persuaded me to come and see. 

"When I was first chose to Congress, I was opposed to the protectingsystem. They told me it would help the rich, and hurt the poor; andthat we in the West was to be taxed by it for the benefit of NewEngland. I supposed it was so; but when I come to hear it argued in theCongress of the nation, I begun to have a different opinion of it. Isaw I was opposing the best interest of the country: especially for theindustrious poor man. I told my people who sent me to Congress, that Ishould oppose it no longer: that without it, we should be obliged topay a tax to the British Government, and support them, instead of ourown labor. And I am satisfied of it the more since I have visited NewEngland. Only let the Southern gentlemen come here and examine themanufactories, and see how it is, and it would make more peace than allthe legislation in Congress can do. It would give different ideas tothem who have been deluded, and spoke in strong terms of dissolving theUnion. "

Crockett returned to Washington just in time to be present at theclosing scenes, and then set out for home. So much had been said of himin the public journals, of his speeches and his peculiarities, that hisrenown now filled the land. 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Disappointed Politician. --Off for Texas. 

Triumphal Return. --Home Charms Vanish. --Loses His Election. --BitterDisappointment. --Crockett's Poetry. --Sets out for Texas. --Incidents ofthe Journey. --Reception at Little Rock. --The Shooting Match. --Meeting aClergyman. --The Juggler. --Crockett a Reformer. --The Bee Hunter. --TheRough Strangers. --Scene on the Prairie. 

Crockett's return to his home was a signal triumph all the way. AtBaltimore, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Louisville, crowdsgathered to greet him. He was feasted, received presents, wascomplimented, and was incessantly called upon for a speech. He was anearnest student as he journeyed along. A new world of wonders wereopening before him. Thoughts which he never before had dreamed of wererushing into his mind. His eyes were ever watchful to see all that wasworthy of note. His ear was ever listening for every new idea. Hescarcely ever looked at the printed page, but perused with the utmostdiligence the book of nature. His comments upon what he saw indicatemuch sagacity. 

At Cincinnatti and Louisville, immense crowds assembled to hear him. Inboth places he spoke quite at length. And all who heard him weresurprised at the power he displayed. Though his speech was rude andunpolished, the clearness of his views, and the intelligence hemanifested, caused the journals generally to speak of him in quite adifferent strain from that which they had been accustomed to use. Probably never did a man make so much intellectual progress, in thecourse of a few months, as David Crockett had made in that time. Hiswonderful memory of names, dates, facts, all the intricacies ofstatistics, was such, that almost any statesman might be instructed byhis addresses, and not many men could safely encounter him in argument. The views he presented upon the subject of the Constitution, finance, internal improvements, etc. , were very surprising, when one considersthe limited education he had enjoyed. At the close of these agitatingscenes he touchingly writes:

"In a short time I set out for my own home; yes, my own home, my ownsoil, my humble dwelling, my own family, my own hearts, my ocean oflove and affection, which neither circumstances nor time can dry up. Here, like the wearied bird, let me settle down for a while, and shutout the world. "

But hunting bears had lost its charms for Crockett. He had been soflattered that it is probable that he fully expected to be chosenPresident of the United States. There were two great parties thendividing the country, the Democrats and the Whigs. The great object ofeach was to find an available candidate, no matter how unfit for theoffice. The leaders wished to elect a President who would be, like theQueen of England, merely the ornamental figure-head of the ship ofstate, while their energies should propel and guide the majesticfabric. For a time some few thought it possible that in the popularityof the great bear-hunter such a candidate might be found. 

Crockett, upon his return home, resumed his deerskin leggins, hisfringed hunting-shirt, his fox-skin cap, and shouldering his rifle, plunged, as he thought, with his original zest, into the cheerless, tangled, marshy forest which surrounded him. But the excitements ofWashington, the splendid entertainments of Philadelphia, New York, andBoston, the flattery, the speech-making, which to him, with hismarvellous memory and his wonderful fluency of speech, was as easy asbreathing, the applause showered upon him, and the gorgeous vision ofthe Presidency looming up before him, engrossed his mind. He saunteredlistlessly through the forest, his bear-hunting energies all paralyzed. He soon grew very weary of home and of all its employments, and waseager to return to the infinitely higher excitements of political life. 

General Jackson was then almost idolized by his party. All through theSouth and West his name was a tower of strength. Crockett hadoriginally been elected as a Jackson-man. He had abandoned theAdministration, and was now one of the most inveterate opponents ofJackson. The majority in Crockett's district were in favor of Jackson. The time came for a new election of a representative. Crockett madeevery effort, in his old style, to secure the vote. He appeared at thegatherings in his garb as a bear-hunter, with his rifle on hisshoulder. He brought 'coonskins to buy whiskey to treat his friends. A'coonskin in the currency of that country was considered the equivalentfor twenty-five cents. He made funny speeches. But it was all in vain. 

Greatly to his surprise, and still more to his chagrin, he lost hiselection. He was beaten by two hundred and thirty votes. The wholepowerful influence of the Government was exerted against Crockett andin favor of his competitor. It is said that large bribes were paid forvotes. Crockett wrote, in a strain which reveals the bitterness of hisdisappointment:

"I am gratified that I have spoken the truth to the people of mydistrict, regardless of the consequences. I would not be compelled tobow down to the idol for a seat in Congress during life. I have neverknown what it was to sacrifice my own judgment to gratify any party;and I have no doubt of the time being close at hand when I shall berewarded for letting my tongue speak what my heart thinks. I havesuffered myself to be politically sacrificed to save my country fromruin and disgrace; and if I am never again elected, I will have thegratification to know that I have done my duty. I may add, in the wordsof the man in the play, 'Crockett's occupation's gone. '"

Two weeks after this he writes, "I confess the thorn still rankles, notso much on my own account as the nation's. As my country no longerrequires my services, I have made up my mind to go to Texas. My lifehas been one of danger, toil, and privation. But these difficulties Ihad to encounter at a time when I considered it nothing more than rightgood sport to surmount them. But now I start upon my own hook, and Godonly grant that it may be strong enough to support the weight that maybe hung upon it. I have a new row to hoe, a long and rough one; butcome what will, I will go ahead. "

Just before leaving for Texas, he attended a political meeting of hisconstituents. The following extract from his autobiography will givethe reader a very vivid idea of his feelings at the time, and of thevery peculiar character which circumstances had developed in him:

"A few days ago I went to a meeting of my constituents. My appetite forpolitics was at one time just about as sharp set as a saw-mill, butlate events have given me something of a surfeit, more than I couldwell digest; still, habit, they say, is second natur, and so I went, and gave them a piece of my mind touching 'the Government' and thesuccession, by way of a codicil to what I have often said before. 

"I told them, moreover, of my services, pretty straight up and down, for a man may be allowed to speak on such subjects when others areabout to forget them; and I also told them of the manner in which I hadbeen knocked down and dragged out, and that I did not consider it afair fight anyhow they could fix it. I put the ingredients in the cuppretty strong I tell you, and I concluded my speech by telling themthat I was done with politics for the present, and that they might allgo to hell, and I would go to Texas. 

"When I returned home I felt a sort of cast down at the change that hadtaken place in my fortunes, and sorrow, it is said, will make even anoyster feel poetical. I never tried my hand at that sort of writing buton this particular occasion such was my state of feeling, that I beganto fancy myself inspired; so I took pen in hand, and as usual I wentahead. When I had got fairly through, my poetry looked as zigzag as aworm-fence; the lines wouldn't tally no how; so I showed them to PelegLongfellow, who has a first-rate reputation with us for that sort ofwriting, having some years ago made a carrier's address for theNashville Banner; and Peleg lopped of some lines, and stretched outothers; but I wish I may be shot if I don't rather think he has made itworse than it was when I placed it in his hands. It being my first, and, no doubt, last piece of poetry, I will print it in this place, asit will serve to express my feelings on leaving my home, my neighbors, and friends and country, for a strange land, as fully as I could inplain prose. 

 "Farewell to the mountains whose mazes to me Were more beautiful far than Eden could be; No fruit was forbidden, but Nature had spread Her bountiful board, and her children were fed. The hills were our garners--our herds wildly grew And Nature was shepherd and husbandman too. I felt like a monarch, yet thought like a man, As I thanked the Great Giver, and worshipped his plan. 

 "The home I forsake where my offspring arose; The graves I forsake where my children repose. The home I redeemed from the savage and wild; The home I have loved as a father his child; The corn that I planted, the fields that I cleared, The flocks that I raised, and the cabin I reared; The wife of my bosom--Farewell to ye all! In the land of the stranger I rise or I fall. 

 "Farewell to my country! I fought for thee well, When the savage rushed forth like the demons from hell In peace or in war I have stood by thy side-- My country, for thee I have lived, would have died! But I am cast off, my career now is run, And I wander abroad like the prodigal son-- Where the wild savage roves, and the broad prairies spread, The fallen--despised--will again go ahead. "

A party of American adventurers, then called filibusters, had gone intoTexas, in the endeavor to wrest that immense and beautiful territory, larger than the whole Empire of France, from feeble, distracted, miserable Mexico, to which it belonged. These filibusters weregenerally the most worthless and desperate vagabonds to be found in allthe Southern States. Many Southern gentlemen of wealth and ability, butstrong advocates of slavery, were in cordial sympathy with thismovement, and aided it with their purses, and in many other ways. Itwas thought that if Texas could be wrested from Mexico and annexed tothe United States, it might be divided into several slaveholdingStates, and thus check the rapidly increasing preponderance of the freeStates of the North. 

To join in this enterprise, Crockett now left his home, his wife, hischildren. There could be no doubt of the eventual success of theundertaking. And in that success Crockett saw visions of politicalglory opening before him. I determined, he said, "to quit the Statesuntil such time as honest and independent men should again work theirway to the head of the heap. And as I should probably have some idletime on hand before that state of affairs would be brought about, Ipromised to give the Texans a helping hand on the high road to freedom. "

He dressed himself in a new deerskin hunting-shirt, put on a foxskincap with the tail hanging behind, shouldered his famous rifle, andcruelly leaving in the dreary cabin his wife and children whom hecherished with an "ocean of love and affection, " set out on foot uponhis perilous adventure. A days' journey through the forest brought himto the Mississippi River. Here he took a steamer down that majesticstream to the mouth of the Arkansas River, which rolls its vast floodfrom regions then quite unexplored in the far West. The stream wasnavigable fourteen hundred miles from its mouth. 

Arkansas was then but a Territory, two hundred and forty miles long andtwo hundred and twenty-eight broad. The sparsely scattered populationof the Territory amounted to but about thirty thousand. Following upthe windings of the river three hundred miles, one came to a cluster ofa few straggling huts, called Little Rock, which constitutes now thecapital of the State. 

Crockett ascended the river in the steamer, and, unencumbered withbaggage, save his rifle, hastened to a tavern which he saw at a littledistance from the shore, around which there was assembled quite a crowdof men. He had been so accustomed to public triumphs that he supposedthat they had assembled in honor of his arrival. "Strange as it mayseem, " he says, "they took no more notice of me than if I had been DickJohnson, the wool-grower. This took me somewhat aback;" and he inquiredwhat was the meaning of the gathering. 

He found that the people had been called together to witness the featsof a celebrated juggler and gambler. The name of Colonel Crockett hadgone through the nation; and gradually it became noised abroad thatColonel Crockett was in the crowd. "I wish I may be shot, " Crockettsays, "if I wasn't looked upon as almost as great a sight as Punch andJudy. "

He was invited to a public dinner that very day. As it took some timeto cook the dinner, the whole company went to a little distance toshoot at a mark. All had heard of Crockett's skill. After several ofthe best sharpshooters had fired, with remarkable accuracy, it came toCrockett's turn. Assuming an air of great carelessness, he raised hisbeautiful rifle, which he called Betsey, to his shoulder, fired, and itso happened that the bullet struck exactly in the centre of thebull's-eye. All were astonished, and so was Crockett himself. But withan air of much indifference he turned upon his heel, saying, "There'sno mistake in Betsey. "

One of the best marksmen in those parts, chagrined at being so beaten, said, "Colonel, that must have been a chance shot. "

"I can do it, " Crockett replied, "five times out of six, any day in theweek. "

"I knew, " he adds, in his autobiography, "it was not altogether ascorrect as it might be; but when a man sets about going the big figure, halfway measures won't answer no how. "

It was now proposed that there should be a second trial. Crockett wasvery reluctant to consent to this, for he had nothing to gain, andeverything to lose. But they insisted so vehemently that he had toyield. As what ensued does not redound much to his credit, we will lethim tell the story in his own language. 

"So to it again we went. They were now put upon their mettle, and theyfired much better than the first time; and it was what might be calledpretty sharp shooting. When it came to my turn, I squared myself, andturning to the prime shot, I gave him a knowing nod, by way of showingmy confidence; and says I, 'Look out for the bull's-eye, stranger. ' Iblazed away, and I wish I may be shot if I didn't miss the target. Theyexamined it all over, and could find neither hair nor hide of mybullet, and pronounced it a dead miss; when says I, 'Stand aside andlet me look, and I warrant you I get on the right trail of thecritter, ' They stood aside, and I examined the bull's-eye prettyparticular, and at length cried out, 'Here it is; there is no snakes ifit ha'n't followed the very track of the other. ' They said it wasutterly impossible, but I insisted on their searching the hole, and Iagreed to be stuck up as a mark myself, if they did not find twobullets there. They searched for my satisfaction, and sure enough itall come out just as I had told them; for I had picked up a bullet thathad been fired, and stuck it deep into the hole, without any oneperceiving it. They were all perfectly satisfied that fame had not madetoo great a flourish of trumpets when speaking of me as a marksman: andthey all said they had enough of shooting for that day, and they movedthat we adjourn to the tavern and liquor. "

The dinner consisted of bear's meat, venison, and wild turkey. They hadan "uproarious" time over their whiskey. Crockett made a coarse andvulgar speech, which was neither creditable to his head nor his heart. But it was received with great applause. 

The next morning Crockett decided to set out to cross the country in asouthwest direction, to Fulton, on the upper waters of the Red River. The gentlemen furnished Crockett with a fine horse, and five of themdecided to accompany him, as a mark of respect, to the River Washita, fifty miles from Little Rock. Crockett endeavored to raise somerecruits for Texas, but was unsuccessful. When they reached theWashita, they found a clergyman, one of those bold, hardy pioneers ofthe wilderness, who through the wildest adventures were distributingtracts and preaching the gospel in the remotest hamlets. 

He was in a condition of great peril. He had attempted to ford theriver in the wrong place, and had reached a spot where he could notadvance any farther, and yet could not turn his horse round. With muchdifficulty they succeeded in extricating him, and in bringing him safeto the shore. Having bid adieu to his kind friends, who had escortedhim thus far, Crockett crossed the river, and in company with theclergyman continued his journey, about twenty miles farther west towarda little settlement called Greenville. He found his new friend to be avery charming companion. In describing the ride, Crockett writes:

"We talked about politics, religion, and nature, farming, andbear-hunting, and the many blessings that an all-bountiful Providencehas bestowed upon our happy country. He continued to talk upon thissubject, travelling over the whole ground as it were, until hisimagination glowed, and his soul became full to overflowing; and hechecked his horse, and I stopped mine also, and a stream of eloquenceburst forth from his aged lips, such as I have seldom listened to: itcame from the overflowing fountain of a pure and grateful heart. Wewere alone in the wilderness, but as he proceeded, it seemed to me asif the tall trees bent their tops to listen; that the mountain streamlaughed out joyfully as it bounded on like some living thing that thefading flowers of autumn smiled, and sent forth fresher fragrance, asif conscious that they would revive in spring; and even the sterilerocks seemed to be endued with some mysterious influence. We were alonein the wilderness, but all things told me that God was there. Thethought renewed my strength and courage. I had left my country, feltsomewhat like an outcast, believed that I had been neglected and lostsight of. But I was now conscious that there was still one watchful Eyeover me; no matter whether I dwelt in the populous cities, or threadedthe pathless forest alone; no matter whether I stood in the high placesamong men, or made my solitary lair in the untrodden wild, that Eye wasstill upon me. My very soul leaped joyfully at the thought. I neverfelt so grateful in all my life. I never loved my God so sincerely inall my life. I felt that I still had a friend. 

"When the old man finished, I found that my eyes were wet with tears. Iapproached and pressed his hand, and thanked him, and says I, 'Now letus take a drink. ' I set him the example, and he followed it, and in astyle too that satisfied me, that if he had ever belonged to thetemperance society, he had either renounced membership, or obtained adispensation. Having liquored, we proceeded on our journey, keeping asharp lookout for mill-seats and plantations as we rode along. 

"I left the worthy old man at Greenville, and sorry enough I was topart with him, for he talked a great deal, and he seemed to know alittle about everything. He knew all about the history of the country;was well acquainted with all the leading men; knew where all the goodlands lay in most of Western States. 

"He was very cheerful and happy, though to all appearances very poor. Ithought that he would make a first-rate agent for taking up lands, andmentioned it to him. He smiled, and pointing above, said, 'My wealthlies not in this world. '"

From Greenville, Crockett pressed on about fifty or sixty miles througha country interspersed withe forests and treeless prairies, until hereached Fulton. He had a letter of introduction to one of the prominentgentlemen here, and was received with marked distinction. After a shortvisit he disposed of his horse; he took a steamer to descend the riverseveral hundred miles to Natchitoches, pronounced Nakitosh, a smallstraggling village of eight hundred inhabitants, on the right bank ofthe Red River, about two hundred miles from its entrance into theMississippi. 

In descending the river there was a juggler on board, who performedmany skilful juggling tricks, and by various feats of gambling won muchmoney from his dupes. Crockett was opposed to gambling in all itsforms. Becoming acquainted with the juggler and, finding him at heart awell-meaning, good-natured fellow, he endeavored to remonstrate withhim upon his evil practices. 

"I told him, " says Crockett, "that it was a burlesque on human nature, that an able-bodied man, possessed of his full share of good sense, should voluntarily debase himself, and be indebted for subsistence tosuch a pitiful artifice. 

"'But what's to be done, Colonel?' says he. 'I'm in the slough ofdespond, up to the very chin. A miry and slippery path to travel. '

"'Then hold your head up, ' says I, 'before the slough reaches yourlips. '

"'But what's the use?' says he: 'it's utterly impossible for me to wadethrough; and even if I could, I should be in such a dirty plight, thatit would defy all the waters in the Mississippi to wash me clean again. No, ' he added in a desponding tone, 'I should be like a live eel in afrying-pan, Colonel, sort of out of my element, if I attempted to livelike an honest man at this time o' day. '

"'That I deny. It is never too late to become honest, ' said I. 'Buteven admit what you say to be true--that you cannot live like an honestman--you have at least the next best thing in your power, and no onecan say nay to it. '

"'And what is that?'

"'Die like a brave one. And I know not whether, in the eyes of theworld, a brilliant death is not preferred to an obscure life ofrectitude. Most men are remembered as they died, and not as they lived. We gaze with admiration upon the glories of the setting sun, yetscarcely bestow a passing glance upon its noonday splendor. '

"'You are right; but how is this to be done?'

"'Accompany me to Texas. Cut aloof from your degrading habits andassociates here, and, in fighting for the freedom of the Texans, regainyour own. '

"The man seemed much moved. He caught up his gambling instruments, thrust them into his pocket, with hasty strides traversed the floor twoor three times, and then exclaimed:

"'By heaven, I will try to be a man again. I will live honestly, or diebravely. I will go with you to Texas. '"

To confirm him in his good resolution, Crockett "asked him to liquor. "At Natchitoches, Crockett encountered another very singular character. He was a remarkably handsome young man, of poetic imagination, a sweetsinger, and with innumerable scraps of poetry and of song ever at histongue's end. Honey-trees, as they were called, were very abundant inTexas The prairies were almost boundless parterres of the richestflowers, from which the bees made large quantities of the mostdelicious honey. This they deposited in the hollows of trees. Not onlywas the honey valuable, but the wax constituted a very importantarticle of commerce in Mexico, and brought a high price, being used forthe immense candles which they burned in their churches. Thebee-hunter, by practice, acquired much skill in coursing the bees totheir hives. 

This man decided to join Crockett and the juggler in their journey overthe vast prairies of Texas. Small, but very strong and tough Mexicanponies, called mustangs, were very cheap. They were found wild, indroves of thousands, grazing on the prairies. The three adventurersmounted their ponies, and set out on their journey due west, a distanceof one hundred and twenty miles, to Nacogdoches. Their route was alonga mere trail, which was called the old Spanish road. It led over vastprairies, where there was no path, and where the bee-hunter was theirguide, and through forests where their course was marked only by blazedtrees. 

The bee-hunter, speaking of the state of society in Texas, said that atSan Felipe he had sat down with a small party at the breakfast-table, where eleven of the company had fled from the States charged with thecrime of murder. So accustomed were the inhabitants to the appearanceof fugitives from justice, that whenever a stranger came among them, they took it for granted that he had committed some crime whichrendered it necessary for him to take refuge beyond the grasp of hiscountry's laws. 

They reached Nacogdoches without any special adventure. It was aflourishing little Mexican town of about one thousand inhabitants, situated in a romantic dell, about sixty miles west of the RiverSabine. The Mexicans and the Indians were very nearly on anintellectual and social equality. Groups of Indians, harmless andfriendly, were ever sauntering through the streets of the little town. 

Colonel Crockett's horse had become lame on the journey. He obtainedanother, and, with his feet nearly touching the ground as he bestrodethe little animal, the party resumed its long and weary journey, directing their course two or three hundred miles farther southwestthrough the very heart of Texas to San Antonio. They frequentlyencountered vast expanses of canebrakes; such canes as Northern boysuse for fishing-poles. There is one on the banks of Caney Creek, seventy miles in length, with scarcely a tree to be seen for the wholedistance. There was generally a trail cut through these, barely wideenough for a single mustang to pass. The reeds were twenty or thirtyfeet high, and so slender that, having no support over the path, theydrooped a little inward and intermingled their tops. Thus a verysingular and beautiful canopy was formed, beneath which the travellersmoved along sheltered from the rays of a Texan sun. 

As they were emerging from one of these arched avenues, they saw threeblack wolves jogging along very leisurely in front of them, but at toogreat a distance to be reached by a rifle-bullet. Wild turkeys werevery abundant, and vast droves of wild horses were cropping the herbageof the most beautiful and richest pastures to be found on earth. Immense herds of buffaloes were also seen. 

"These sights, " says Crockett, "awakened the ruling passion strongwithin me, and I longed to have a hunt on a large scale. For though Ihad killed many bears and deer in my time, I had never brought down abuffalo, and so I told my friends. But they tried to dissuade me fromit, telling me that I would certainly lose my way, and perhaps perish;for though it appeared a garden to the eye, it was still a wilderness. I said little more upon the subject until we crossed the TrinidadRiver. But every mile we travelled, I found the temptation grewstronger and stronger. "

The night after crossing the Trinidad River they were so fortunate asto come across the hut of a poor woman, where they took shelter untilthe next morning. They were here joined by two other chance travellers, who must indeed have been rough specimens of humanity. Crockett saysthat though he had often seen men who had not advanced far over theline of civilization, these were the coarsest samples he had ever met. 

One proved to be an old pirate, about fifty years of age. He was tall, bony, and in aspect seemed scarcely human. The shaggy hair of hiswhiskers and beard covered nearly his whole face. He had on a sailor'sround jacket and tarpaulin hat. The deep scar, apparently of a swordcut, deformed his forehead, and another similar scar was on the back ofone of his hands. His companion was a young Indian, wild as the wolves, bareheaded, and with scanty deerskin dress. 

Early the next morning they all resumed their journey, the twostrangers following on foot. Their path led over the smooth andtreeless prairie, as beautiful in its verdure and its flowers as themost cultivated park could possibly be. About noon they stopped torefresh their horses and dine beneath a cluster of trees in the openprairie. They had built their fire, were cooking their game, and wereall seated upon the grass, chatting very sociably, when the bee-huntersaw a bee, which indicated that a hive of honey might be found not fardistant. He leaped upon his mustang, and without saying a word, "started off like mad, " and scoured along the prairie. "We watchedhim, " says Crockett, "until he seemed no larger than a rat, and finallydisappeared in the distance. "

CHAPTER XII. 

Adventures on the Prairie. 

Disappearance of the Bee Hunter. --The Herd of Buffalo Crockettlost. --The Fight with the Cougar. --Approach of Savages. --TheirFriendliness. --Picnic on the Prairie. --Picturesque Scene. --The LostMustang recovered. --Unexpected Reunion. --Departure of theSavages. --Skirmish with the Mexicans. --Arrival at the Alamo. 

Soon after the bee-hunter had disappeared, all were startled by astrange sound, as of distant thunder. It was one of the most beautifulof summer days. There was not a cloud to be seen. The undulatingprairie, waving with flowers, lay spread out before them, morebeautiful under nature's bountiful adornings than the most artisticparterre, park or lawn which the hand of man ever reared. A gentle, cool breeze swept through the grove, fragrant and refreshing as if fromAraby the blest. It was just one of those scenes and one of those hoursin which all vestiges of the Fall seemed to have been obliterated, andEden itself again appeared blooming in its pristine beauty. 

Still those sounds, growing more and more distinct, were not sounds ofpeace, were not eolian warblings; they were mutterings as of a risingtempest, and inspired awe and a sense of peril. Straining their eyestoward the far-distant west, whence the sounds came, they soon saw animmense black cloud just emerging from the horizon and apparently verylow down, sweeping the very surface of the prairie. This strange, menacing cloud was approaching with manifestly great rapidity. It wascoming directly toward the grove where the travellers were sheltered. Acloud of dust accompanied the phenomenon, ever growing thicker andrising higher in the air. 

"What can that all mean?" exclaimed Crockett, in evident alarm. 

The juggler sprang to his feet, saying, "Burn my old shoes if I know. "

Even the mustangs, which were grazing near by, were frightened Theystopped eating, pricked up their ears, and gazed in terror upon theapproaching danger. It was then supposed that the black cloud, with itsmuttered thunderings, must be one of those terrible tornadoes whichoccasionally swept the region, bearing down everything before it. Themen all rushed for the protection of the mustangs. In the greatesthaste they struck off their hobbles and led them into the grove forshelter. 

The noise grew louder and louder, and they had scarcely brought thehorses beneath the protection of the trees, when they perceived that itwas an immense herd of buffaloes, of countless hundreds, dishing alongwith the speed of the wind, and bellowing and roaring in tones asappalling as if a band of demons were flying and shrieking in terrorbefore some avenging arm. 

The herd seemed to fill the horizon. Their numbers could not becounted. They were all driven by some common impulse of terror. Intheir head-long plunge, those in front pressed on by the innumerablethrong behind, it was manifest that no ordinary obstacle would in theslightest degree retard their rush. The spectacle was sublime andterrible. Had the travellers been upon the open plain, it seemedinevitable that they must have been trampled down and crushed out ofevery semblance of humanity by these thousands of hard hoofs. 

But it so chanced that they were upon what is called a rolling prairie, with its graceful undulations and gentle eminences. It was one of thesebeautiful swells which the grove crowned with its luxuriance. 

As the enormous herd came along with its rush and roar, like thebursting forth of a pent-up flood, the terrified mustangs were too muchfrightened to attempt to escape. They shivered in every nerve as ifstricken by an ague. 

An immense black bull led the band. He was a few feet in advance of allthe rest. He came roaring along, his tail erect in the air as ajavelin, his head near the ground, and his stout, bony horns projectedas if he were just ready to plunge upon his foe. Crockett writes:

"I never felt such a desire to have a crack at anything in all my life. He drew nigh the place where I was standing. I raised my beautifulBetsey to my shoulder and blazed away. He roared, and suddenly stopped. Those that were near him did so likewise. The commotion occasioned bythe impetus of those in the rear was such that it was a miracle thatsome of them did not break their heads or necks. The black bull stoodfor a few moments pawing the ground after he was shot, then darted offaround the cluster of trees, and made for the uplands of the prairies. The whole herd followed, sweeping by like a tornado. And I do say Inever witnessed a sight more beautiful to the eye of a hunter in all mylife. "

The temptation to pursue them was too strong for Crockett to resist. For a moment he was himself bewildered, and stood gazing withastonishment upon the wondrous spectacle. Speedily he reloaded hisrifle, sprung upon his horse, and set out in pursuit over the green andboundless prairie. There was something now quite ludicrous in thescene. There was spread out an ocean expanse of verdure. A herd ofcountless hundreds of majestic buffaloes, every animal very ferociousin aspect, was clattering along, and a few rods behind them in eagerpursuit was one man, mounted on a little, insignificant Mexican pony, not much larger than a donkey. It would seem that but a score of thisinnumerable army need but turn round and face their foe, and they couldtoss horse and rider into the air, and then contemptuously trample theminto the dust. 

Crockett was almost beside himself with excitement. Looking neither tothe right nor the left, unconscious in what direction he was going, heurged forward, with whip and spur, the little mustang, to the utmostspeed of the animal, and yet scarcely in the least diminished thedistance between him and the swift-footed buffaloes. Ere long, it wasevident that he was losing in the chase. But the hunter, thinking thatthe buffaloes could not long continue their flight at such a speed, andthat they would soon, in weariness, loiter and stop to graze, vigorously pressed on, though his jaded beast was rapidly beingdistance by the herd. 

At length the enormous moving mass appeared but as a cloud in thedistant horizon. Still, Crockett, his mind entirely absorbed in theexcitement of the chase, urged his weary steed on, until the buffalosentirely disappeared from view in the distance. Crockett writes:

"I now paused to allow my mustang to breathe, who did not altogetherfancy the rapidity of my movements; and to consider which course Iwould have to take to regain the path I had abandoned. I might haveretraced my steps by following the trail of the buffaloes, but it hadalways been my principle to go ahead, and so I turned to the west andpushed forward. 

"I had not rode more than an hour before I found, I was completelybewildered. I looked around, and there was, as far as the eye couldreach, spread before me a country apparently in the highest state ofcultivation--extended fields, beautiful and productive, groves of treescleared from the underwood, and whose margins were as regular as if theart and taste of man had been employed upon them. But there was noother evidence that the sound of the axe, or the voice of man, had everhere disturbed the solitude of nature. My eyes would have cheated mysenses into the belief that I was in an earthly paradise, but my fearstold me that I was in a wilderness. 

"I pushed along, following the sun, for I had no compass to guide me, and there was no other path than that which my mustang made. Indeed, ifI had found a beaten tract, I should have been almost afraid to havefollowed it; for my friend the bee-hunter had told me, that once, whenhe had been lost in the prairies, he had accidentally struck into hisown path, and had travelled around and around for a whole day before hediscovered his error. This I thought was a poor way of going ahead; soI determined to make for the first large stream, and follow its course. "

For several hours Crockett rode through these vast and lonelysolitudes, the Eden of nature, without meeting with the slightest traceof a human being. Evening was approaching, still, calm, and bright. Themost singular and even oppressive silence prevailed, for neither voiceof bird nor insect was to be heard. Crockett began to feel very uneasy. The fact that he was lost himself did not trouble him much, but he feltanxious for his simple-minded, good-natured friend, the juggler, whowas left entirely alone and quite unable to take care of himself undersuch circumstances. 

As he rode along, much disturbed by these unpleasant reflections, another novelty, characteristic of the Great West, arrested hisattention and elicited his admiration. He was just emerging from a verylovely grove, carpeted with grass, which grew thick and green beneaththe leafy canopy which overarched it. There was not a particle ofunderbrush to obstruct one's movement through this natural park. Justbeyond the grove there was another expanse of treeless prairie, sorich, so beautiful, so brilliant with flowers, that even ColonelCrockett, all unaccustomed as he was to the devotional mood, reined inhis horse, and gazing entranced upon the landscape, exclaimed:

"O God, what a world of beauty hast thou made for man! And yet howpoorly does he requite thee for it! He does not even repay thee withgratitude. "

The attractiveness of the scene was enhanced by a drove of more than ahundred wild horses, really beautiful animals, quietly pasturing. Itseemed impossible but that the hand of man must have been employed inembellishing this fair creation. It was all God's work. "When I lookedaround and fully realized it all, " writes Crockett, "I thought of theclergyman who had preached to me in the wilds of Arkansas. "

Colonel Crockett rode out upon the prairie. The horses no sooner espiedhim than, excited, but not alarmed, the whole drove, with neighings, and tails uplifted like banners, commenced coursing around him in anextended circle, which gradually became smaller and smaller, until theycame in close contact; and the Colonel, not a little alarmed, foundhimself completely surrounded, and apparently the prisoner of thesepowerful steeds. 

The little mustang upon which the Colonel was mounted seemed very happyin its new companionship. It turned its head to one side, and then tothe other, and pranced and neighed, playfully biting at the mane of onehorse, rubbing his nose against that of another, and in joyous gambolskicking up its heels. The Colonel was anxious to get out of the mess. But his little mustang was not at all disposed to move in thatdirection; neither did the other horses seem disposed to acquiesce insuch a plan. 

Crockett's heels were armed with very formidable Spanish spurs, withprongs sharp and long. The hunter writes:

"To escape from the annoyance, I beat the devil's tattoo on his ribs, that he might have some music to dance to, and we went ahead rightmerrily, the whole drove following in our wake, head up, and tail andmane streaming. My little critter, who was both blood and bottom, seemed delighted at being at the head of the heap; and having oncefairly got started, I wish I may be shot if I did not find itimpossible to stop him. He kept along, tossing his head proudly, andoccasionally neighing, as much as to say, "Come on, my hearties, yousee I ha'n't forgot our old amusement yet. " And they did come on with avengeance, clatter, clatter, clatter, as if so many fiends had brokeloose. The prairie lay extended before me as far as the eye couldreach, and I began to think that there would be no end to the race. 

"My little animal was full of fire and mettle, and as it was the firstbit of genuine sport that he had had for some time, he appeareddetermined to make the most of it. He kept the lead for full half anhour, frequently neighing as if in triumph and derision. I thought ofJohn Gilpin's celebrated ride, but that was child's play to this. Theproverb says, 'The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle tothe strong, ' and so it proved in the present instance. My mustang wasobliged to carry weight, while his competitors were as free as naturehad made them. A beautiful bay, who had trod close upon my heels thewhole way, now came side by side with my mustang, and we had it hip andthigh for about ten minutes, in such style as would have delighted theheart of a true lover of the turf. I now felt an interest in the racemyself, and, for the credit of my bit of blood, determined to win it ifit was at all in the nature of things. I plied the lash and spur, andthe little critter took it quite kindly, and tossed his head, andneighed, as much as to say, 'Colonel, I know what you're after--goahead!'--and he cut dirt in beautiful style, I tell you. "

This could not last long. The wild steed of the prairie soonoutstripped the heavily burdened mustang, and shooting ahead, kicked uphis heels as in derision. The rest of the herd followed, in the samedisrespectful manner. Crockett jogged quietly on in the rear, glad tobe rid of such troublesome and dangerous companions. The horses soonreached a stream, which Crockett afterward learned was called theNavasola River. The whole herd, following an adventurous leader, rushedpell-mell into the stream and swam to the other side. It was abeautiful sight to behold these splendid animals, in such a densethrong, crossing the stream, and then, refreshed by their bath, sweeping like a whirlwind over the plain beyond. 

Crockett's exhausted pony could go no further. He fairly threw himselfupon the ground as if in despair. Crockett took from the exhaustedanimal the saddle, and left the poor creature to roll upon the grassand graze at pleasure. He thought it not possible that the mustangcould wander to any considerable distance. Indeed, he fully expected tofind the utterly exhausted beast, who could no longer stand upon hislegs, dead before morning. 

Night was fast closing around him. He began to look around for shelter. There was a large tree blown down by the side of the stream, its topbranching out very thick and bushy. Crockett thought that with hisknife, in the midst of that dense foliage with its interlacingbranches, he could make himself a snug arbor, where, wrapped in hisblanket, he could enjoy refreshing sleep. He approached the tree, andbegan to work among the almost impervious branches, when he heard a lowgrowl, which he says he interpreted to mean, "Stranger, theseapartments are already taken. "

Looking about to see what kind of an animal he had disturbed, and whosedispleasure he had manifestly encountered, he saw the brilliant eyesglaring through the leaves of a large Mexican cougar, sometimes calledthe panther or American lion. This animal, endowed with marvellousagility and strength, will pounce from his lair on a deer, and even abuffalo, and easily with tooth and claw tear him to pieces. 

"He was not more than five or six paces from me, " writes Crockett, "andwas eying me as an epicure surveys the table before he selects hisdish, I have no doubt the cougar looked upon me as the subject of afuture supper. Rays of light darted from his large eyes, he showed histeeth like a negro in hysterics, and he was crouching on his haunchesready for a spring; all of which convinced me that unless I was prettyquick upon the trigger, posterity would know little of the terminationof my eventful career, and it would be far less glorious and usefulthan I intend to make it. "

The conflict which ensued cannot be more graphically described than inCrocket's own words:

"One glance satisfied me that there was no time to be lost. There wasno retreat either for me or the cougar. So I levelled my Betsey andblazed away. The report was followed by a furious growl, and the nextmoment, when I expected to find the tarnal critter struggling withdeath, I beheld him shaking his head, as if nothing more than a bee hadstung him. The ball had struck him on the forehead and glanced off, doing no other injury than stunning him for an instant, and tearing offthe skin, which tended to infuriate him the more. The cougar wasn'tlong in making up his mind what to do, nor was I neither; but he wouldhave it all his own way, and vetoed my motion to back out. I had notretreated three steps before he sprang at me like a steamboat; Istepped aside and as he lit upon the ground, I struck him violentlywith the barrel of my rifle, but he didn't mind that, but wheeledaround and made at me again. The gun was now of no use, so I threw itaway, and drew my hunting-knife, for I knew we should come to closequarters before the fight would be over. This time he succeeded infastening on my left arm, and was just beginning to amuse himself bytearing the flesh off with his fangs, when I ripped my knife into hisside, and he let go his hold, much to my satisfaction. 

"He wheeled about and came at me with increased fury, occasioned by thesmarting of his wounds. I now tried to blind him, knowing that if Isucceeded he would become an easy prey; so as he approached me Iwatched my opportunity, and aimed a blow at his eyes with my knife; butunfortunately it struck him on the nose, and he paid no other attentionto it than by a shake of the head and a low growl. He pressed me close, and as I was stepping backward my foot tripped in a vine, and I fell tothe ground. He was down upon me like a night-hawk upon a June-bug. Heseized hold of the outer part of my right thigh, which afforded himconsiderable amusement; the hinder part of his body was towards myface; I grasped his tail with my left hand, and tickled his ribs withmy haunting-knife, which I held in my right. Still the critter wouldn'tlet go his hold; and as I found that he would lacerate my legdreadfully unless he was speedily shaken off, I tried to hurl him downthe bank into the river, for our scuffle had already brought us to theedge of the bank. I stuck my knife into his side, and summoned all mystrength to throw him over. He resisted, was desperate heavy; but atlast I got him so far down the declivity that he lost his balance, andhe rolled over and over till he landed on the margin of the river; butin his fall he dragged me along with him. Fortunately, I felluppermost, and his neck presented a fair mark for my hunting-knife. Without allowing myself time even to draw breath, I aimed one desperateblow at his neck, and the knife entered his gullet up to the handle, and reached his heart. He struggled for a few moments and died. I havehad many fights with bears, but that was mere child's play. This wasthe first fight ever I had with a cougar, and I hope it may be thelast. "

Crockett, breathless and bleeding, but signally a victor, took quietpossession of the treetop, the conquest of which he had so valiantlyachieved. He parted some of the branches, cut away others, andintertwining the softer twigs, something like a bird's nest, made forhimself a very comfortable bed. There was an abundance of moss, dry, pliant, and crispy, hanging in festoons from the trees. This, spread inthick folds over his litter, made as luxuriant a mattress as one coulddesire. His horse-blanket being laid down upon this, the wearytraveller, with serene skies above him and a gentle breeze breathingthrough his bower, had no cause to envy the occupant of the mostluxurious chamber wealth can furnish. 

He speedily prepared for himself a frugal supper, carried his saddleinto the treetop, and, though oppressed with anxiety in view of theprospect before him, fell asleep, and in blissful unconsciousness thehours passed away until the sun was rising in the morning. Uponawaking, he felt very stiff and sore from the wounds he had received inhis conflict with the cougar. Looking over the bank, he saw the deadbody of the cougar lying there, and felt that he had much cause ofgratitude that he had escaped so great a danger. 

He then began to look around for his horse. But the animal was nowhereto be seen. He ascended one of the gentle swells of land, whence hecould look far and wide over the unobstructed prairie. To his surprise, and not a little to his consternation, the animal had disappeared, "without leaving trace of hair or hide. " At first he thought themustang must have been devoured by wolves or some other beasts of prey. But then it was manifest they could not have eaten his bones, andsomething would have remained to indicate the fate of the poorcreature. While thus perplexed, Crockett reflected sadly that he waslost, alone and on foot, on the boundless prairie. He was, however, toomuch accustomed to scenes of the wildest adventure to allow himself tobe much cast down. His appetite was not disturbed, and he began to feelthe cravings of hunger. 

He took his rifle and stepped out in search of his breakfast. He hadgone but a short distance ere he saw a large flock of wild geese, onthe bank of the river. Selecting a large fat gander, he shot him, soonstripped him of his feathers, built a fire, ran a stick through thegoose for a spit, and then, supporting it on two sticks with prongs, roasted his savory viand in the most approved style. He had a littletin cup with him, and a paper of ground coffee, with which he made acup of that most refreshing beverage. Thus he breakfasted sumptuously. 

He was just preparing to depart, with his saddle upon his shoulder, much perplexed as to the course he should pursue, when he was againalarmed by one of those wild scenes ever occurring in the West. Firstfaintly, then louder and louder came the sound as of the trampling ofmany horses on the full gallop. His first thought was that anotherenormous herd of buffaloes was sweeping down upon him. But soon he saw, in the distance, a band of about fifty Comanche Indians, well mounted, painted, plumed, and bannered, the horse and rider apparently oneanimal, coming down upon him, their horses being urged to the utmostspeed. It was a sublime and yet an appalling spectacle, as this band ofhalf-naked savages, their spears glittering in the morning sun, andtheir long hair streaming behind, came rushing on. 

Crockett was standing in full view upon the banks of the stream. Thecolumn swept on, and, with military precision, as it approached, divided into two semicircles, and in an instant the two ends of thecircle reached the river, and Crockett was surrounded. Three of thesavages performed the part of trumpeters, and with wonderfulresemblance, from their lips, emitted the pealing notes of the bugle. Almost by instinct he grasped his rifle, but a flash of thought taughthim that, under the circumstances, any attempt at resistance would beworse than unavailing. 

The chief sprang from his horse, and advancing with proud stridestoward Crockett, was struck with admiration at sight of his magnificentrifle. Such a weapon, with such rich ornamentation, had never beforebeen seen on the prairies. The eagerness with which the savage regardedthe gun led Crockett to apprehend that he intended to appropriate it tohimself. 

The Comanches, though a very warlike tribe, had held much intercoursewith the Americans, and friendly relations then existed between themand our Government. Crockett, addressing the chief, said:

"Is your nation at war with the Americans?"

"No, " was the reply; "they are our friends. "

"And where, " Crockett added, "do your get your spear-heads, yourrifles, your blankets, and your knives?"

"We get them from our friends the Americans, " the chief replied. 

"Well, " said Crockett, "do you think that if you were passing throughtheir country, as I am passing through yours, they would attempt to robyou of your property?"

"No, " answered the savage; "they would feed me and protect me. And theComanche will do the same by his white brother. "

Crockett then inquired of the chief what had guided him and his partyto the spot where they had found him? The chief said that they were ata great distance, but had seen the smoke from his fire, and had come toascertain the cause of it. 

"He inquired, " writes Crockett, "what had brought me there alone. Itold him I had come to hunt, and that my mustang had become exhausted, and, though I thought he was about to die, that he had escaped from me. At this the chief gave a low chuckling laugh, and said that it was alla trick of the mustang, which is the most wily and cunning of allanimals. But he said that as I was a brave hunter, he would furnish mewith another. He gave orders, and a fine young horse was immediatelybrought forward. "

The savages speedily discovered the dead body of the cougar, andcommenced skinning him. They were greatly surprised on seeing thenumber of the stabs, and inquired into the cause. When Crockettexplained to them the conflict, the proof of which was manifest in hisown lacerated skin, and in the wounds inflicted upon the cougar, theywere greatly impressed with the valor he had displayed. The chiefexclaimed several times, in tones of commingled admiration andastonishment, "Brave hunter! brave man!" He also expressed the earnestwish that Crockett would consent to be adopted as a son of the tribe. But this offer was respectfully declined. 

This friendly chief kindly consented to escort Crockett as far as theColorado River. Crockett put his saddle on a fresh horse, and havingmounted, the chief, with Crockett at his side, took the lead, and offthe whole band went, scouring over the pathless prairie at a rapidspeed. Several of the band were squaws. They were the trumpeters. Theymade the prairie echo with their bugle-blasts, or, as Crockettirreverently, but perhaps more correctly says, "The old squaws, at thehead of the troop, were braying like young jackasses the whole way. "

After thus riding over the green and treeless expanse for about threehours, they came upon a drove of wild horses, quietly pasturing on therich herbage. One of the Indians immediately prepared his lasso, anddarted out toward the herd to make a capture. The horses did not seemto be alarmed by his approach, but when he got pretty nigh them theybegan to circle around him, keeping at a cautious distance, with theirheads elevated and with loud neighings. They then, following theleadership of a splendid stallion, set off on a brisk canter, and soondisappeared beyond the undulations of the prairie. 

One of the mustangs remained quietly grazing. The Indian rode to withina few yards of him, and very skilfully threw his lasso. The mustangseemed to be upon the watch, for he adroitly dodged his head betweenhis forefeet and thus escaped the fatal noose. The Indian rode up tohim, and the horse patiently submitted to be bridled and thus secured. 

"When I approached, " writes Crockett, "I immediately recognized, in thecaptive, the pestilent little animal that had shammed sickness andescaped from me the day before. And when he caught my eye he cast downhis head and looked rather sheepish, as if he were sensible and ashamedof the dirty trick he had played me. I expressed my astonishment, tothe Indian chief, at the mustang's allowing himself to be capturedwithout any effort to escape. He told me that they were generallyhurled to the ground with such violence, when first taken with thelasso, that they remembered it ever after; and that the sight of thelasso will subdue them to submission, though they may have run wild foryears. "

All the day long, Crockett, with his convoy of friendly savages, travelled over the beautiful prairie. Toward evening they came across adrove of fat buffaloes grazing in the richest of earthly pastures. Itwas a beautiful sight to witness the skill with which the Indianspursued and hunted down the noble game. Crockett was quite charmed withthe spectacle. It is said that the Comanche Indians are the finesthorsemen in the world. Always wandering about over the boundlessprairies, where wild horses are found in countless numbers, they areever on horseback, men, women, and children. Even infants, almost intheir earliest years, are taught to cling to the mane of the horse. Thus the Comanche obtains the absolute control of the animal; and whenscouring over the plain, bareheaded and with scanty dress, the horseand rider seem veritably like one person. 

The Comanches were armed only with bows and arrows. The herd early tookfright, and fled with such speed that the somewhat exhausted horses ofthe Comanches could not get within arrow-shot of them. Crockett, however, being well mounted and unsurpassed by any Indian in the artsof hunting, selected a fat young heifer, which he knew would furnishtender steaks, and with his deadly bullet struck it down. This was theonly beef that was killed. All the rest of the herd escaped. 

The Indians gathered around the slain animal for their feast. Withtheir sharp knives the heifer was soon skinned and cut up into savorysteaks and roasting-pieces. Two or three fires were built. The horseswere hobbled and turned loose to graze. Every one of the Indiansselected his own portion, and all were soon merrily and evenaffectionately engaged in this picnic feast, beneath skies which Italynever rivalled, and surrounded with the loveliness of a park surpassingthe highest creations of art in London, Paris, or New York. 

The Indians were quite delighted with their guest. He told them storiesof his wild hunting excursions, and of his encounters with panthers andbears. They were charmed by his narratives, and they sat eagerlisteners until late into the night, beneath the stars and around theglowing camp-fires. Then, wrapped in their blankets, they threwthemselves down on the thick green grass and slept. Such are the joysof peace and friendship. 

They resumed their journey in the morning, and pressed along, withnothing of special interest occurring until they reached the ColoradoRiver. As they were following down this stream, to strike the roadwhich leads to Bexar, they saw in the distance a single column of smokeascending the clear sky. Hastening toward it, they found that it rosefrom the centre of a small grove near the river. When within a fewhundred yards the warriors extended their line, so as nearly toencircle the grove, while the chief and Crockett advanced cautiously toreconnoitre. To their surprise they saw a solitary man seated upon theground near the fire, so entirely absorbed in some occupation that hedid not observe their approach. 

In a moment, Crockett, much to his joy, perceived that it was his lostfriend the juggler. He was all engaged in practising his game ofthimbles on the crown of his hat. Crockett was now restored to hiscompanion, and was near the plain road to Bexar. In describing thisscene and the departure of his kind Indian friends, the hunter writes:

"The chief shouted the war-whoop, and suddenly the warriors camerushing in from all quarters, preceded by the old squaw trumpeterssqualling like mad. The conjurer sprang to his feet, and was ready tosink into the earth when he beheld the ferocious-looking fellows thatsurrounded him. I stepped up, took him by the hand, and quieted hisfears. I told the chief that he was a friend of mine, and I was veryglad to have found him, for I was afraid that he had perished. I nowthanked him for his kindness in guiding me over the prairies, and gavehim a large bowie-knife, which he said he would keep for the sake ofthe brave hunter. The whole squadron then wheeled off and I saw them nomore. I have met with many polite men in my time, but no one whopossessed in a greater degree what may be called true spontaneouspoliteness than this Comanche chief, always excepting Philip Hone, Esq. Of New York, whom I look upon as the politest man I ever did see; forwhen he asked me to take a drink at his own sideboard, he turned hisback upon me, that I mightn't be ashamed to fill as much as I wanted. That was what I call doing the fair thing. "

The poor juggler was quite overjoyed in meeting his friend again, whomhe evidently regarded with much reverence. He said that he was verymuch alarmed when he found himself alone on the pathless prairie. Afterwaiting two hours in much anxiety, he mounted his mustang, and wasslowly retracing his steps, when he spied the bee-hunter returning. Hewas laden with honey. They had then journeyed on together to thepresent spot. The hunter had just gone out in search of game. He soonreturned with a plump turkey upon his shoulders. They built their fire, and were joyously cooking their supper, when the neighing of a horsenear by startled them. Looking up, they saw two men approaching onhorseback. They proved to be the old pirate and the young Indian withwhom they had lodged a few nights before. Upon being hailed theyalighted, and politely requested permission to join their party. Thiswas gladly assented to, as they were now entering a region desolated bythe war between the Texans and the Mexicans, and where many small bandsof robbers were wandering, ready to plunder any weaker party they mightencounter. 

The next morning they crossed the river and pushed on for the fortressof Alamo. When within about twenty miles of San Antonio, they beheldabout fifteen mounted men, well armed, approaching them at full speed. Crockett's party numbered five. They immediately dismounted, made arampart of their horses, and with the muzzles of their rifles pointedtoward the approaching foe, were prepared for battle. 

It was a party of Mexicans. When within a few hundred yards they reinedin their horses, and the leader, advancing a little, called out to themin Spanish to surrender. 

"We must have a brush with those blackguards, " said the pirate. "Leteach one single out his man for the first fire. They are greater foolsthan I take them for if they give us a chance for a second shot. Colonel, just settle the business with that talking fellow with the redfeather. He's worth any three of the party. "

"Surrender, or we fire!" shouted the fellow with the red feather. Thepirate replied, with a piratic oath, "Fire away. "

"And sure enough, " writes Crockett, "they took his advice, for the nextminute we were saluted with a discharge of musketry, the report ofwhich was so loud that we were convinced they all had fired. Before thesmoke had cleared away we had each selected our man, fired, and I neverdid see such a scattering among their ranks as followed. We beheldseveral mustangs running wild without their riders over the prairie, and the balance of the company were already retreating at a more rapidgait than they approached. We hastily mounted and commenced pursuit, which we kept up until we beheld the independent flag flying from thebattlements of the fortress of Alamo, our place of destination. Thefugitives succeeded in evading our pursuit, and we rode up to the gatesof the fortress, announced to the sentinel who we were, and the gateswere thrown open; and we entered amid shouts of welcome bestowed uponus by the patriots. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

Conclusion. 

The Fortress of Alamo. --Colonel Bowie. --Bombardment of theFort. --Crockett's Journal. --Sharpshooting. --Fight outside of theFort. --Death of the Bee Hunter. --Kate of Nacogdoches. --Assault on theCitadel. --Crockett a Prisoner. --His Death. 

The fortress of Alamo is just outside of the town of Bexar, on the SanAntonio River. The town is about one hundred and forty miles from thecoast, and contained, at that time, about twelve hundred inhabitants. Nearly all were Mexicans, though there were a few American families. Inthe year 1718, the Spanish Government had established a militaryoutpost here; and in the year 1721, a few emigrants from Spaincommenced a flourishing settlement at this spot. Its site is beautiful, the air salubrious, the soil highly fertile, and the water of crystalpurity. 

The town of Bexar subsequently received the name of San Antonio. On thetenth of December, 1835, the Texans captured the town and citadel fromthe Mexicans. These Texan Rangers were rude men, who had but littleregard for the refinements or humanities of civilization. When Crockettwith his companions arrived, Colonel Bowie, of Louisiana, one of themost desperate of Western adventurers, was in the fortress. Thecelebrated bowie-knife was named after this man. There was but a feeblegarrison, and it was threatened with an attack by an overwhelming forceof Mexicans under Santa Anna. Colonel Travis was in command. He wasvery glad to receive even so small a reinforcement. The fame of ColonelCrockett, as one of the bravest of men, had already reached his ears. 

"While we were conversing, " writes Crockett, "Colonel Bowie hadoccasion to draw his famous knife, and I wish I may be shot if the baresight of it wasn't enough to give a man of a squeamish stomach thecolic. He saw I was admiring it, and said he, 'Colonel, you mighttickle a fellow's ribs a long time with this little instrument beforeyou'd make make him laugh. '"

According to Crockett's account, many shameful orgies took place in thelittle garrison. They were evidently in considerable trepidation, for alarge force was gathering against them, and they could not look for anyconsiderable reinforcements from any quarter. Rumors were continuallyreaching them of the formidable preparations Santa Anna was making toattack the place. Scouts ere long brought in the tidings that SantaAnna, President of the Mexican Republic, at the head of sixteen hundredsoldiers, and accompanied by several of his ablest generals, was withinsix miles of Bexar. It was said that he was doing everything in hispower to enlist the warlike Comanches in his favor, but that theyremained faithful in their friendship to the United States. 

Early in the month of February, 1836, the army of Santa Anna appearedbefore the town, with infantry, artillery, and cavalry. With militaryprecision they approached, their banners waving, and their bugle-notesbearing defiance to the feeble little garrison. The Texan invaders, seeing that they would soon be surrounded, abandoned the town to theenemy, and fled to the protection of the citadel. They were but onehundred and fifty in number. Almost without exception they were hardyadventurers, and the most fearless and desperate of men. They hadpreviously stored away in the fortress all the provisions, arms, andammunition, of which they could avail themselves. Over the battlementsthey unfurled an immense flag of thirteen stripes, and with a largewhite star of five points, surrounded by the letters "Texas. " As theyraised their flag, they gave three cheers, while with drums andtrumpets they hurled back their challenge to the foe. 

The Mexicans raised over the town a blood-red banner. It was theirsignificant intimation to the garrison that no quarter was to beexpected. Santa Anna, having advantageously posted his troops, in theafternoon sent a summons to Colonel Travis, demanding an unconditionalsurrender, threatening, in case of refusal, to put every man to thesword. The only reply Colonel Travis made was to throw a cannon-shotinto the town. The Mexicans then opened fire from their batteries, butwithout doing much harm. 

In the night, Colonel Travis sent the old pirate on an express toColonel Fanning, who, with a small military force, was at Goliad, toentreat him to come to his aid. Goliad was about four days' march fromBexar. The next morning the Mexicans renewed their fire from a batteryabout three hundred and fifty yards from the fort. A three-ounce ballstruck the juggler on the breast, inflicting a painful but not adangerous wound. 

Day after day this storm of war continued. The walls of the citadelwere strong, and the bombardment inflicted but little injury. Thesharpshooters within the fortress struck down many of the assailants atgreat distances. 

"The bee-hunter, " writes Crockett, "is about the quickest on thetrigger, and the best rifle-shot we have in the fort. I have alreadyseen him bring down eleven of the enemy, and at such a distance that weall thought that it would be a waste of ammunition to attempt it. "Provisions were beginning to become scarce, and the citadel was sosurrounded that it was impossible for the garrison to cut its waythrough the lines and escape. 

Under date of February 28th, Crockett writes in his Journal:

"Last night our hunters brought in some corn, and had a brush with ascout from the enemy beyond gunshot of the fort. They put the scout toflight, and got in without injury. They bring accounts that thesettlers are flying in all quarters, in dismay, leaving theirpossessions to the mercy of the ruthless invader, who is literallyengaged in a war of extermination more brutal than the untutored savageof the desert could be guilty of. Slaughter is indiscriminate, sparingneither sex, age, nor condition. Buildings have been burnt down, farmslaid waste, and Santa Anna appears determined to verify his threat, andconvert the blooming paradise into a howling wilderness. For just onefair crack at that rascal, even at a hundred yards' distance, I wouldbargain to break my Betsey, and never pull trigger again. My name's notCrockett if I wouldn't get glory enough to appease my stomach for theremainder of my life. 

"The scouts report that a settler by the name of Johnson, flying withhis wife and three little children, when they reached the Colorado, left his family on the shore, and waded into the river to see whetherit would be safe to ford with his wagon. When about the middle of theriver he was seized by an alligator, and after a struggle was draggedunder the water, and perished. The helpless woman and her babes werediscovered, gazing in agony on the spot, by other fugitives, whohappily passed that way, and relieved them. Those who fight the battlesexperience but a small part of the privation, suffering, and anguishthat follow in the train of ruthless war. The cannonading continued atintervals throughout the day, and all hands were kept up to their work. "

The next day he writes: "I had a little sport this morning beforebreakfast. The enemy had planted a piece of ordnance within gunshot ofthe fort during the night, and the first thing in the morning theycommenced a brisk cannonade, point blank against the spot where I wassnoring. I turned out pretty smart and mounted the rampart. The gun wascharged again; a fellow stepped forth to touch her off, but before hecould apply the match, I let him have it, and he keeled over. A secondstepped up, snatched the match from the hand of the dying man, but thejuggler, who had followed me, handed me his rifle, and the next instantthe Mexican was stretched on the earth beside the first. A third cameup to the cannon. My companion handed me another gun, and I fixed himoff in like manner. A fourth, then a fifth seized the match, who bothmet with the same fate. Then the whole party gave it up as a bad job, and hurried off to the camp, leaving the cannon ready charged wherethey had planted it. I came down, took my bitters, and went tobreakfast. "

In the course of a week the Mexicans lost three hundred men. But stillreinforcements were continually arriving, so that their numbers were onthe rapid increase. The garrison no longer cherished any hope ofreceiving aid from abroad. 

Under date of March 4th and 5th, 1836, we have the last lines whichCrockett ever penned. 

"March 4th. Shells have been falling into the fort like hail during theday, but without effect. About dusk, in the evening, we observed a manrunning toward the fort, pursued by about half a dozen of the Mexicancavalry. The bee-hunter immediately knew him to be the old pirate, whohad gone to Goliad, and, calling to the two hunters, he sallied out ofthe fort to the relief of the old man, who was hard pressed. I followedclose after. Before we reached the spot the Mexicans were close on theheels of the old man, who stopped suddenly, turned short upon hispursuers, discharged his rifle, and one of the enemy fell from hishorse. The chase was renewed, but finding that he would be overtakenand cut to pieces, he now turned again, and, to the amazement of theenemy, became the assailant in his turn. He clubbed his gun, and dashedamong them like a wounded tiger, and they fled like sparrows. By thistime we reached the spot, and, in the ardor of the moment, followedsome distance before we saw that our retreat to the fort was cut off byanother detachment of cavalry. Nothing was to be done but fight our waythrough. We were all of the same mind. 'Go ahead!' cried I; and theyshouted, 'Go ahead, Colonel!' We dashed among them, and a bloodyconflict ensued. They were about twenty in number, and they stood theirground. After the fight had continued about five minutes, a detachmentwas seen issuing from the fort to our relief, and the Mexicansscampered of, leaving eight of their comrades dead upon the field. Butwe did not escape unscathed, for both the pirate and the bee-hunterwere mortally wounded, and I received a sabre-cut across the forehead. The old man died without speaking, as soon as we entered the fort. Webore my young friend to his bed, dressed his wounds, and I watchedbeside him. He lay, without complaint or manifesting pain, until aboutmidnight, when he spoke, and I asked him if he wanted anything. 'Nothing, ' he replied, but drew a sigh that seemed to rend his heart, as he added, 'Poor Kate of Nacogdoches. ' His eyes were filled withtears, as he continued, 'Her words were prophetic, Colonel, " and thenhe sang in a low voice, that resembled the sweet notes of his owndevoted Kate:

'But toom cam' the saddle, all bluidy to see, And hame came the steed, but hame never came he. '

He spoke no more, and a few minutes after died. Poor Kate, who willtell this to thee?

The romantic bee-hunter had a sweetheart by the name of Kate inNacogdoches. She seems to have been a very affectionate and religiousgirl. In parting, she had presented her lover with a Bible, and inanguish of spirit had expressed her fears that he would never returnfrom his perilous enterprise. 

The next day, Crockett simply writes, "March 5th. Pop, pop, pop! Bom, bom, bom! throughout the day. No time for memorandums now. Go ahead!Liberty and Independence forever. "

Before daybreak on the 6th of March, the citadel of the Alamo wasassaulted by the whole Mexican army, then numbering about threethousand men. Santa Anna in person commanded. The assailants swarmedover the works and into the fortress. The battle was fought with theutmost desperation until daylight. Six only of the Garrison thenremained alive. They were surrounded, and they surrendered. ColonelCrockett was one. He at the time stood alone in an angle of the fort, like a lion at bay. His eyes flashed fire, his shattered rifle in hisright hand, and in his left a gleaming bowie-knife streaming withblood. His face was covered with blood flowing from a deep gash acrosshis forehead. About twenty Mexicans, dead and dying, were lying at hisfeet. The juggler was also there dead. With one hand he was clenchingthe hair of a dead Mexican, while with the other he had driven hisknife to the haft in the bosom of his foe. 

The Mexican General Castrillon, to whom the prisoners had surrendered, wished to spare their lives. He led them to that part of the fort whereSanta Anna stood surrounded by his staff. As Castrillon marched hisprisoners into the presence of the President, he said:

"Sir, here are six prisoners I have taken alive. How shall I dispose ofthem?"

Santa Anna seemed much annoyed, and said, "Have I not told you beforehow to dispose of them? Why do you bring them to me?"

Immediately several Mexicans commenced plunging their swords into thebosoms of the captives. Crockett, entirely unarmed, sprang, like atiger, at the throat of Santa Anna. But before he could reach him, adozen swords were sheathed in his heart, and he fell without a word ora groan. But there still remained upon his brow the frown ofindignation, and his lip was curled with a smile of defiance and scorn. 

And thus was terminated the earthly life of this extraordinary man. Inthis narrative it has been the object of the writer faithfully torecord the influences under which Colonel Crockett was reared, and theincidents of his wild and wondrous life, leaving it with the reader toform his own estimate of the character which these exploits indicate. David Crockett has gone to the tribunal of his God, there to be judgedfor all the deeds done in the body. Beautifully and consolingly thePsalmist has written:

"Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them thatfear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust. "

THE END