Wild Sports In The Far West. Gerstaecker Frederick
staecker
Wild Sports In The Far West
PREFACE
On my return, a short time since, to my native land, from the wilds of America, it was not at first my intention to offer to the public the contents of the diary I had kept during my travels, and written out in detail as an employment for my leisure hours, for the exclusive use of my family in Germany. Incited, however, by the interest awakened by the publication of a few extracts in one of our periodicals, and yielding to the wishes expressed by various friends who had read the remainder, I undertook to correct and revise my notes, and to mould into a continuous narrative a diary which I had only kept when circumstances worthy of being chronicled arose, – for instance, on the voyage out, on my march through the United States, during my sojourn among the swamps of Arkansas, and finally during my hunting trip in the Ozark mountains.
I have endeavored faithfully to portray the social condition of the Americans, in so far as it came under my observation, and many a reader, while turning over the pages of this work, will seek in vain the wonted glowing descriptions of the riches and plenty which the dwellers in the West are reputed to enjoy. It is true that the American farmer commencing operations with small means, may, by dint of very strenuous exertions, realize an independence in a shorter time than would suffice for this object in our old fatherland; but, on the other hand, he must be prepared to renounce every thing that gladdened his heart in his native country – and only too quickly will he discover that to wean himself from the comforts to which he has been from childhood accustomed, to quit the society and intercourse of the civilized world, and to seek in a far land a life of freedom indeed, but likewise of solitude and privation, is a harder task than it at first appeared. And not every man is sufficiently strong of heart to bear the emigrant’s lot without a murmur.
But should any inveterate sportsman, with an imagination heated by the description of these scenes, excited by the dangers and difficulties of the enterprise, depart to the far West, to experience similar adventures, let him remember, when wet, hungry, alone, and a prey to mosquitoes, he lies stretched in the untrodden forest, longing in vain for a fire, and for the society of men; or when he has been following the tracks of the deer for days together, without the chance of a single shot, until he can almost persuade himself that the tales he has read of wild sports in the West are but myths existing only in the brains of the Indians; let him, I say, remember that I have, so far as in me lay, painted all this in its true colors, and that many an adventure which reads admirably on paper, is in reality the reverse of romantic.
The chase in the United States is, moreover, rapidly on the decline; for the American hunter spares nothing, and for some time, particularly since the day when skins were first paid for in hard dollars, a war of extermination has been waged against the poor stags and bears; – so that the hunter who, some five years hence, shall visit these realms, will scarcely find his expectations of sport realized, unless he is prepared either to content himself with small game, or to penetrate to the Rocky Mountains, and explore the territory of the Indians.
With the concluding request to my readers, to remember that these pages are penned by a man who, so to speak, has but just emerged from the forest, and who relates his experiences to his friends at home, not caring for the fact that he might, perhaps, by adopting a different method, have told his story with more effect, this diary is submitted to the kind consideration of the public, by
CHAPTER I
FROM BREMEN TO NEW YORK
A Bremen lighter, and its capacity for holding passengers – An unexpected meeting – Scene on board the lighter – The captain – First night on board – A parting dance on shore – Our new passengers and their mishaps – The “Constitution” – Steerage arrangements – Sleeping berths – Scenes between decks – Departure – Sea-sickness – Our Jewish passengers – The French and English Coasts – The Atlantic – Jelly-fish and “Portuguese men-of-war” – Small-pox on board – Dancing – Phosphorescence of the sea – Fricandeau-days – Stormy weather – Meeting of ships at sea – The 4th of July and its festivities – The shark and pilot-fish – Projects to pass the time – “Land ho!” – Arrival, harbor, quarantine, and examination of luggage – We take leave of the “Constitution.”
“Does the boat start at nine exactly?” “Yes, do not be later.” Such was the notice I received as I spoke with the master of the lighter, which in the spring of 1837 was to take me with bag and baggage on board the “Constitution,” bound to New York, then lying in Bremen Roads, about forty miles from the town, and only waiting for the two lighters, which were to take on board the steerage passengers with their effects.
I was true to my appointment at nine o’clock, but soon found that there was no necessity to have hurried myself, as no preparations had been made for starting; I took advantage of the time to look over all my effects, to see if I had everything I thought necessary, and to procure any thing that was wanting: in a large chest, that could easily be got at, I had packed some bottles of red wine, a keg of sardines, another of herrings, a Westphalian ham (oh, that there had been six!), some lemons, a little rum, pepper, sugar, some tin vessels for the table and to keep food in, knives, forks, and spoons. I found all right, and then lounged along the banks of the Weser, so as not to lose the boat. I was astonished at the number of passengers that arrived; and when I saw the crowd of people to be stowed in the miserably small boat, it appeared to me impossible that she could hold so many. While I was leaning against the corner of a house and looking on, a young man approached, wrapped in a blue cloak, with a foraging cap, spectacles, a long pipe in one hand, and a knapsack in the other; he looked at me steadfastly for a moment, and then accosted me with the intimate “Du” (Thou). His features were familiar to me, but I did not remember him till he mentioned his name; he was H., a former school-fellow, who was about to embark in the same ship. The sight of him first recalled to mind, since I had taken leave of all who were near and dear to me, that I was not quite alone in the world, and that there was still some one who would interest himself for me; of course we were now inseparable.
We lounged about together for some time in the town, and on returning to the boat found for certain that it would not start till the following morning. Most of the passengers went on shore in the evening. H. and I remained on board with our baggage. Next morning we cast off from the shore and made sail with the ebb; the wind was unfavorable. No one who has not made such a passage, in a similar boat, with a like number of passengers, can imagine the scene. It is necessary to give a short description of it, as these boats are still in use, and may yet carry thousands of emigrants from their native land. The lighter was cutter-rigged, about forty-five feet long, and some fifteen broad, with a little hole in the after part called a cabin, with two sleeping places on one side and some rows of shelves on the other; it was about large enough to contain six people closely packed. Imagine sixty passengers in the other part of the boat! (for the cabin was only for the master, or captain, as he liked to be called). Sixty live passengers, with their chests, trunks, hat and other boxes, handkerchiefs of provisions, cloaks, mattresses, coverlets, &c. &c.; and not young men only, but old and young women, old men and boys, children and old maids, sitting, lying, standing, and leaning about. If any one had told me beforehand that such a number of people could have been packed in such a space, I would not have believed him.
When all had settled themselves, and I was firmly persuaded that it was quite impossible to find room for one more, without hanging him up under the deck, a pair of legs poked themselves down the hatchway; over them was a blue jacket, topped by the rubicund visage of our faithful captain. After trying for some time with his feet to find a solid foundation to stand on, he let go his hands, and lighted on the corns of a lanky sailor, who had squeezed himself in between two chests, and had fallen asleep standing; the pain made him draw up his long legs, and he was so disconcerted, that, still half asleep, he courteously begged pardon of the captain, or Tarpaulin, as we called him.
The captain now began to look about him, stepping over two and sometimes three persons at a time. But what was his motive for taking all this trouble? Merely to look at the pretty faces of the female passengers, and to try to make himself agreeable to them – but time and place, wind and weather were against him; he only received snappish words from some, and derision from others; finding that nothing was to be gained from the fair sex, he turned