USA > Indiana > Monroe County > The new purchase : or, seven and a half years in the Far West > Part 23
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More than once during the afternoon had he introduced the subject of glass and windows and every conversation would be- gin and end with a self-complacent, and rather lofty look at the articles under his arm-the glass by which their cabin was to be elevated in the scale of architecture,4 and the family established among the forest aristocracy ! Once or twice as'we passed an old cabin without a sash window, Sam would commence-
"Mr. Carltin, I allow this here glass here of ourn's near about the right size-aint it?"
"I think so."
"Well-it will look a sort a powerful-hey?"
"Very-we had a sash made last summer and it helps matters powerful."
"He! he! he!"-(a giggle of exquisite satisfaction-like the cackle of a hen that has laid a new egg, or the mild squawking of geese just emerging into the dusty road from a hole in a grain field fence)-"he! he! he !- Mr. Carltin, ain't it a sort a funny them ere settlers what's been in the Purchus longer nor us ain't got no sashes ?- I allow, it looks a sort a idle in 'em."
But now as we rode in the dark a fire suddenly gleamed from
4 Cabins are at first dark, like Grecian temples : afterwards, when sashed, they enjoy a religious and dim light like Gothic cathedrals-especially if two glasses are oiled paper.
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the crevices of a cabin, upon which, Sam with wonderful anti- cipative exultation halloed from the rear-
"Hillow ! Mr. Carltin-that's Bill Tomsin's cabin !- what a most powerful heap of shine his 'ere fire would make through this here glass of ourn if they was all in a winder-"
To this Mr. C. made no reply, for, at the instant his neigh- bour's thoughtless, blundering brute 5 of a horse tripped over a root on his nose! and away went his rider, not indeed out of the saddle, but off from the blanket, his only saddle! and alas! alas! away went the brittle eight by ten's ! and in spite of the forty cents paid in tow linen, in spite of Sam's chagrin and almost super- human efforts to save them, in spite of the woful disappointment of the expectants at home, the whole four panes, were all and each, and every, so cracked and broken as to defy all emenda- tions from dough or putty! Yes! in one short moment, and that a moment of triumph, all visions were dissipated-visions of a window from without, and visions through one from within!
Poor Sam! he was not hurt by the fall: although, I do believe for a moment he wished it had been his arm and not the glass. And certainly, had I not been present, he would have abused his unlucky horse in very irreverent terms, calling him as it was :-
"A most powerful rottin darn'd ole carrin-for to go to stumblin and smashin glass that 'are away !! "
I tried to console my neighbor in the most approved way, by telling misfortunes of my own, and at last did bring on a faint laugh-(much like one person makes in trying not to cry)-by narrating the fall of our waiter of glasses but still, forty cents worth of good tow-linen was no trifle for folks in my comrade's humble circumstance to lose; and I did so pity him to say if he would ride home with me, we would give him an extra pane pro- cured to mend our own sash in case of accident, and also, three sheets of paper, which, when oiled and fixed according to direc- tions, would answer almost as well as glass itself. This cheered him up a good deal; and on reaching Uncle John's, a search was instituted, and to our great satisfaction two panes were discovered, which were both cordially bestowed on our friend; and also two sheets of foolscap, with directions how to oil or grease and paste
5 Terms applicable to common horses-not to Dick.
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them on the sash, and to secure, by two strings diagonally fas- tened, or as he better understood it-"katterkorner'd-like."
Sam never forgot this small kindness. Hence, as you may easily think, reader, not only did he vote our way, but he became an active and rather violent partizan in electioneering, every- where giving, too, a magnific version of the glass and paper story. Nay, on the election day he overheard a person saying to another-"Yes, John Glenville's well enough-if he hadn't stuck up folks around him-and that brother-in-law of hissin, Carltin's a reel 'ristekrat-and hates poor folks like pisin :"- upon which what does Sam do, but forthwith strip off his coat and break in with his doubled fists as follows :-
"See! here, I say, mister! you're a most powerful darn'd liar ! now jist shut up-'cos case you jist go for to say that say agin- if I don't row you up salt crick in less nor no time, my name's not Sam Townsend."
Happily, my complimentary neighbour had no wish for that pleasant little excursion-"up crick," and no further disturbance ensued. I would merely add, that passing Sam's cabin a few days after his mishap, I had the pleasure of seeing the sash in its place, with two glasses in the lower tier and two papers in the upper : and to be sure the papers were sufficiently greased; indeed, so well, as to keep out light as well as water and air; although, in spite of our use of "diagonal," and its being rendered into popular language, "katterkorner'd-like," the strings were inclined to perpendiculars to the sides, and crossed each other almost at right angles, and not very far from the centre.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
- neque semper arcum Tendit Apollo." "Pleasure after Pain."
WHEN the Indian tribe were departing from the New Pur- chase, a distinguished chieftain had suddenly died, and been buried in aboriginal style in the spot known in our settlements as the Indian grave. That spot I could never pass without feeling
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F
myself on hallowed ground, often contemplating the scene with indescribable emotion-ay, more than once with unbidden tears. The burial place itself was a beautiful natural mound, abrupt on the side towards the county road, but otherwise of a regular shape and gradual swell, being hardly indeed supposed a mound on the approach by the Glenville path. On the summit of this mound was the grave. It was inclosed by a fence of small logs covered with poles : while a rough post carved with Indian hier- oglyphics and its point or top painted red, marked with the warrior's head rested.
This place was too far from Glenville for a walk, and we never hunted in that direction, but, even when hurrying on a journey, as I rode by, I could not pass till I paused some moments to gaze, and with a melancholy soul, on this resting place of the savage king; and with the most profound sadness and shame, after learning that this wild and lonely and regal grave had been violated!
Around that grave had stood a band of exiles and houseless wanderers-children of the forest! Trusting to the white man's faith, they had asked a few yards of earth, where but the day before the whole mighty wilderness had been theirs-a few yards where they might lay in his rest their chief, their lawgiver, their father! Yes! yes! their bitter agony of the soul had been felt, although proudly, perhaps sternly concealed. Mournful enough to bury a king and a patriarch in a borrowed grave yet was it some alleviation that he was to lie in no dishonoured ground! If there was sadness, there was grandeur too, in the thought, that his was the only grave, and that it made venerable and sanctuary-like so large a forest space !- ay, that for long years to come white men's children would point and say, "Behold that little mound yonder !- that is the grave of Blue Fire !- the mighty Indian warrior and chief !" That grave would remain a monument, speaking to successive generations of the pale faces and saying-"This was all once the red man's land !"
What would that tribe of mourning warriors have felt? what would they not have done, had some fierce and proud apparition from their spirit-land, revealed that the base sons of white men would despoil that grave of its treasure, even before the impress
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of the departing exiles' feet should be covered by the fall of the coming autumn's leaves? Yet so it was. Reader! the poor Indian is often cursed for his indiscriminate massacres-has he no provocation? Do not civilized and nominal Christian men, with deadly weapons, watch near the sepulchres of their fathers and sons to wreck sudden vengeance on the robbers of the tomb? And dare we condemn the poor, hunted, defrauded Indian, who, finding his father's grave desecrated and rifled, cools the phrenzy rage of his burning soul in a bath of white man's blood?
Once on my way to Timberopolis, I sat gazing and dreaming on my horse, near that sad mound; when, not without an emotion of fear, I saw appear a large party of mounted Indians, going, as it afterwards was discovered, to visit the Potawatamies living on a reservation in the north. The party did not halt at the grave, as probably they would have done, if no pale face had been there to notice : if they had, although no sign apparently could lead to the discovery that the sacred deposit was gone, yet should I have felt, if not afraid, yet truly ashamed. Our way being for several hours in their direction, we often passed and repassed one an- other, and occasionally I rode among the party, and held a con- versation with a half breed that could use a little English-till at last, they encamping on the bank of the beauteous and silvery river, once their own! we parted-my way leading across the stream and their path still further up on its bank. I felt a strange wish to plunge with them into the dark, tangled wilds of that vast forest, where no white man yet lived-so strong is the love of the uncivilized in some hearts !
But to our story. Several years prior to our arrival in the Purchase, two young men, whose youth and ignorance is their best apology, students of Dr. Sylvan's, on hearing of the burial of Blue Fire, determined so soon as the Indians should resume their march for the Mississippi; to take up the body ; partly for anatomical purposes and partly out of rash boldness: for some nerve was necessary to the work, while many lagging Indians were yet straggling in the woods. And unhappily for our honour they succeeded but not until after a very remarkable interruption and temporary defeat. And that defeat is my story. It shall be given, however, in the words of the renowned "Hunting-Shirt-
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Andy," the leader of the party that terrified the resurrectionists, and almost to insanity, and from whose lips we ourselves received the narrative.
Be it premised, that at the time of our story, not more than three cabins were between Woodville and the river; that on their side the river, the nearest house from the grave (on our side), was more than three miles, and beyond a wide bayou and marsh,-it being absolutely necessary in passing and repassing to and from Woodville to cross the river.1 In many places were fords, and near them also dangerous holes from four to six feet deep; and into these, not only inexperienced travellers, but even we neighbourhood people often plunged; and hence escape from them to a terrified man running from savages would be almost miraculous. On our side, the cabin nearest the grave was two miles up the river, so that if any Indians came unexpectedly upon the young fellows, they would be in hazard of meeting a pretty summary vengeance-and not, I must say, wholly un- undeserved.
Our narrator was called Hunting-Shirt-Andy, mainly because he lived like an Indian, and always wore a very wonderful leather
1 In his letters to Nunemacher, the New Albany publisher, in 1855, when the second edition of the New Purchase was being negotiated, Hall speaks of the Glenville settlement as being "about three miles east of Gosport in Monroe county." If that were the case, White River (the "Shiney") would not be between Woodville (Bloomington) and Glen- ville, as this passage seems to indicate. According to this passage, "our side" of the river (Glenville) must have been north or west of Gosport in Owen county. John M. Young (Glenville) was elected to the legisla- ture for the counties of Owen and Green, and this fact would seem to prove that Glenville Settlement was in Owen county west of the river. From Bloomington to White river is a distance of sixteen miles and it is difficult to believe that at so late a period only three cabins could have been found within that distance. But it is to be remembered that this story came down from an earlier period than Hall's residence in the Purchase and that the first settlers, amid dangers from the Indians, lived in settlements and not on isolated farms, though isolated cabin squatters were found here and there, remote from all other dwellers. The events narrated in "Hunting-Shirt-Andy's" story, however, could not have been earlier than 1819 when Dr. David H. Maxwell moved to Bloomington. Gov. P. C. Dunning and James Maxwell, the Doctor's "nevy," (see the Key) could not have been his medical students earlier than that.
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hunting shirt-(his second hide or skin)-most curiously frilled, and elaborately ornamented with bits of skin, birds' and beasts' claws, and porcupine quills dyed red, and green, and yellow ; and also to distinguish him from his second cousin White-Andy, so named because he lived like the rest of us civilized woodsmen in a cabin. The story was given in Uncle John's cabin, at the united request of myself and the others, and is as follows :-
HUNTING-SHIRT-ANDY'S STORY.
"Well, Mistur Carltin, if you reely wants to hear about them two young fellers, I don't kere to tell about that Blue Fire scrape ; but case you put it in your book, don't let on about thare namses- as the doctor's nevy is a most powerful clever feller and tended me arter in the agy, and charged me most nuthin at all, although he kim more nor once all the way over more nor twenty miles- and the tother one what got most sker'd, is a sort of catawampus, (spiteful) and maybe underhand wouldn't stick to do you a mis- chief if he thought you made a laff on him-albeit, he's been laffed at a powerful heap afore.
"Well, we heern the two was a comin to git up Blue Fire, and bile him for a natumy, as they call'd it ; and all us neighbours was powerful mad about it; as cos couldn't they allow the poor Injin to lay in his grave; and as cos the Injins still a sort a squattin and campin round, mought hear on it, and it mought n't be so good for folk's consarns then. And so we talks over the thing, and allowed we'd make the chaps let Blue Fire lay ; and so, says I to Bill Roland, Bill, says I, let's you and me make on to be Injins, and skere them doctur fellers; and don't let them go for to bile the poor red savage for the natumy. Agreed, says Bill, and then we goes and gits ole man Ashford, and fixes up like reel gineine Injins, and paints our faces red and clean up our arms, away up here (showing), and all on us gits on blankits and leggins and moksins, and teetotally greases our hair back so-slick-like, and I gits a bit of tin round my hat, and we takes our tomhoks and rifles and puts off and lies hid near the grave. 'Twas just thare, Mr. Carltin, along by the black walnut stump what I cut down the very next day arter for rails for Bill Tomsin's yard. Well, thare we all on us lays down in the bushes on our bellies, a little
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over fifty yards from the grave; for we know'd the young fellers was to come at sich a time; cos they kim to Squire Brushwood's the night afore; and the Squire he sends up his little gal to ole man Ashford's afore sun-up to sort a let us know : and so we was all ready when what should we spy a comin but the two young doctor chaps with a couple of hossis, and a meal-bag, and a spade, and a hoe.
"Well, we lays teetotally still, and they goes fust and fassens their hossis to the swinging branch of that thare sugar west o' the place, and then goes and begins a takin down the pen, and when they gits it down, they off's coats and begins a diggin like the very divil.2 And jist then we raises up a sort a on our knee- ses; and all draws a bead at that knot in that thare beech at the tail ind of the grave; I'll show you the knot any day, and you'll see its more nor half a foot good above their heads when they stood up agin the beech, although they arterwards tried to make the knot out only two inches above their heads; and then I gives a leetle bark, like a growling Injin-and up they pops both on 'em, right under the beech, and looks about most powerful skittish, and then we lets fly three balls crack-wack right into the knot, and makes bark peel right sharp in that 'are quarter; and then out jumps we and raises the yell, with tomhoks agoin to fling-"
At this very moment our narrator was interrupted by a terrific burst of thunder, which shook our cabin with much violence, and caused the dry clay of the chinking to curl up in dust around us like smoke! To persons shut up from the view of the horizon, it had seemed a very fair afternoon early in July; but while we listened to Andy, a single cloud surcharged with lightning came over our clearing, and using a tall tree within a few yards of our cabin as conductor, it had darted its fiery bolt, which shivered the tree into pieces, and filled us with a momentary, yet very in- tense fear : and then, it rapidly passing, our few rods of sky was clear and brilliant as before. After a short and revereful pause, Andy resumed :-
"That's a most mighty powerful big clap of thunder, and most mighty near! but it's not a bit more skery than our bullits above them two young doctors' heads and the reel Injiny yells us three
2 Soft way of swearing out there.
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screeched out! The way they drops tools and made tracks was funny, Mr. Carltin, I tell you! You see! I've seed runnin in my days that's sartin-but if them chaps didn't git along as if old Sattin was ahind 'em, then I allow I never killed no deer, and that would be a wapper!
"Well-they divides, and the doctor's nevy, he tuk strate up stream; and ole man Ashford and Bill, they pretends they was a follerin him-howsom'er they couldn't a ketch'd up no how- and so the nevy he runs clare up two miles and gits safe into Pete's shanty on the bottum, and sker'd Pete hisself so powerful he was afeer'd to come down, till we sends up and lets Pete into the secret.
"But tother chap, he was so sker'd he didn't see where he runn'd, and kept right study ahead slash through weeds and briars to the river-and me slam smack arter him, as cos I was afreed he'd run in and git drownded; for thar's where the water is deepish, and jist about where you swim'd your hoss, Mr. Carl- tin-and so I runs and hollers like a screechowl-'stop !- doctur! -staw-u-up!' But the more I hollers, the more he legs it; case he was more nor ever sker'd to hear a Injin holler Inglish- Graminy ! Mr. Carltin, if he didn't make brush crack and streak off like a herd of buffalo !- and me all the time a keepin arter, as I was sentimentally afeer'd now he'd git drownded; but, darn my leather shirt !- (Andy would put this profane stitch into his shirt when he was excited)-darn my leather shirt, if arter all I could make him stop; and in he splasht'd kerslush, like a hurt buffalo bull, and waded and swim'd and splash'd and scrabbled even ahead rite strate across and up tother bank-when he stops for the furst time to blow and takes a look back! And then he sees me a standin on our side and without no gun, a bekenin on him to stop; for I was too powerful weak a laffin to holler any more-but darn my leather shirt, if the blasted fool didn't set off agin like a tarrified barr, and wades clean in all through the bio! and the buttermilk slash tother side! and never stopt again till he kim to the three mile cabin! and thare he tells them as how the Injins had all got back agin, and had killed tother doctur and tuk his skulp !! And you may naterally allow, Mr. Carltin, the hull settlement over thare was a sort a sker'd and sent out scouts and
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hunters to see: but when it was found how it all was ezactly, then if they warn't a mighty powerful heap of laffin, I never kill'd no deer.
"Howsever the Doctor's nevy was good pluck; for he gits an- other chap to help, and two days arter when we warn't a watchin, he digs out the poor Ingin and tootes him over to Woodville, and biled him up for a natumy for their shop arter all-and so that's the hull story, Mr. Carltin ;- but I must be a sorter goin. I'll fetch that jerked vensin about next week-and them 'are deer skins :- but afore I starts, wont you jist play us a toone on that flute of yourn, Mr. Carltin ?"
"Most certainly, Andy-I'll play you a dozen if you can stay,- what will you have?"
"Well !- let's see-thare's one I don't mind it's name now-but . a powerful toone; I heard Mr. Johnsin fiddlin on it at Spiceburgh -but there's somethin about river in it, and it was talkin of the young doctur's splunge, made me think of the toone."
"Was it this, Andy?"-(Mr. C. plays.).
"That's him ! that's the dentikul toone !- let's see-what do you call him?"
"Over the river to Charlie." And accordingly this "powerful toone" was done now in first rate double-shuffle style, with very curious extempore variations, and very alarming embellishments ; while all the time Andy patted the puncheons with his moccasin'd feet, and seemed barely able to refrain from leaping up and danc- ing; till the music ending, he remarked: -
"Ie! lo! darn my leather shirt if I didn't know 'twas river somethin !- and by jingo, Mr. Carltin, if you don't jist about know the sling of it, about as good as Mr. Johnsin-and maybe a leetle bit better-and the way he makes it hum on the fiddle !- I tell you what !! Well, well,-I must be goin, but I should like to stay and git you to play that 'ere meetin toone, Pisger,- (Pisgah, a great favourite then with our religious world, but which had better been named, Gumsnorter 3)-but I can't stop- I'm off-good-bye, folks."
And off he was sure enough; while I treated him during his exit with Yankee-doodle. And this compliment Andy felt so 3 Unless classic musicians prefer that, or a like term for the genus.
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much, that he began capering, and yelping, and tossing his legs and arms, till he reached our bars, which he cleared like a bounding buck at a flying leap : but within the bushes beyond he paused a moment, and gave first, an Indian grunt and bark, and then such a yell !- it rung in my ears for twenty-four hours? Then once more he leaped away, shaking the bushes, scattering old leaves, making brush crack, and at the same time screaming out- "Sta-up, doctur !- sta-a-aup!" in all which he designed a scenic exhibition of his late story ; playing like other celebrated actors different parts, first, his own Indian character, and secondly, the flight of the young doctor.
Reader !- do you believe life is all moping in the West? Now be well assured we have other recreations there than going to church-the only one certain hic vel haec English tourists grant to us and never use themselves !
CHAPTER XXIX.
"Quack! Quack !! Quack !! " Vide Voices of Natural History .- VOL. X.
NOT many weeks after Hunting-shirt-Andy's visit, a very great and yet very little stranger, for some time expected, arrived at Glenville. Her name not before, but after this arrival, was Eliza- beth Carlton : and she bounced in among us, after all, by surprise, and about two o'clock one morning. A curious figure somewhere had been missed, and the young lady gave an unexpected notice in some mysterious way of her intention to join our colony, precise- ly one week too soon : a common case I am informed with all that have the right of primogeniture ; others, are better arithmeticians.
It had been arranged that our worthy friend Dr. Sylvan of Woodville, should honour Glenville with a visit on this occasion : but now, about nine o'clock, P. M., Dick was scampering away at the nominal rate of six miles per hour, towards Spiceburgh, with a pressing invitation for the company of the learned Professor Pillbox, a member of the faculty, and who boarded with our friend Josey, P. M.1 This change of medical gentlemen arose
1 Let no one think Josey was P. M. in both senses : the sentence might have been altered to prevent this injurious mistake, but it was found easier to add a note.
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from the urgency of the case, as Spiceburgh was not so far as Woodville. No one in this very enlightened era can possibly think we trusted Dick to deliver the request-(although if a four-legged being could have done so, Dick was he or it)-but still, to prevent misapprehension and the sarcasm of the increas- ing critical acumen of the times, we now state that John Glen- ville went with Dick; and hence, about three o'clock in the morn- ing, they returned, having secured the professor and another horse.
This person-(of course, the doctor)-not being honoured with any other skin or parchment than the one he was born in, we, like the Great Unknown, the North American College of Health of Yankeysville, do, by the native right of every white-born American, our ownselves dignify with the title of Professor. And never was title more appropriate, as he professed even more than Brandreth's Pills! He could cure warts !- eradicate corns ! -remove pimples !- and obliterate moles and freckles. He knew how to destroy beards so as to prevent shaving-and how to fertilize the most barren skull till it would produce a large crop of black hair, in case you preferred that to red, yellow, or flaxy! Ay, he had never-failing remedies for fevers of every type, grade, and colour-intermittent, remittent, nonitent, bilious, antibilious, rebellious, red, saffron and yellow! Hence, the Professor utterly and most indignantly scouted Thompsonianism and all other loud- screaming quackeries of our quacking epoch :- and setting the highest value on number one, he cared not for number six.
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