USA > Tennessee > Old times in West Tennessee : reminiscences, semi-historic, of pioneer life and the early emigrant settlers in the Big Hatchie country > Part 6
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woods was her delight. The screw-cutter pushed his screw-cutting work on rapidly, so as to get into the woods. He proved to be an excellent workman, and my father built him a house near the mill, where he lived several years, rendering himself serviceable when called upon. During the bear-hunting sea- son he was for the most part in the woods with his rifle and two dogs. His house was never clear of bear-bacon. The screw and press being finished, the mill and gin going, an appointment was made for a big bear-hunt, to begin at the Big Hurricane, some eight miles up the river, and hunt down. The coming among us of the model bear-hunter, with his two well-trained dogs, Cæsar and Bess, excited the amateur hunters of the settlement to go into a hunt with him, and see his famous dogs handle a bear. The time fixed to go into the hunt was to be a week before Christmas, and to end New-Year's day.
There were but few expert bear-hunters in the settlement. Among them, and perhaps the best, was Cary Estes. His elder brother, Captain Albert, was an expert hunter also, but had not the passion for it that Cary had. Both of them had a pack of well-trained bear-dogs. Pendleton Gaines, famil- iarly known as "Pet," was a good hunter; so was his brother Ab, but, he was fat, and fond of his ease, and couldn't last on a big run. Steptoe John- son was always ready to go into a hunt, but was never up to the "killing." . I had grown large and strong enough to shoot "off-hand" with a rifle, and had killed my bear, a four-hundred-and-sixty-pound
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one, at that, when lean in flesh, and had succeeded to the "little rifle."
I may be pardoned for giving a brief account of my "first killing," before going into the big hunt. It was a part of my assigned duty to drive the cows up every evening. Sometimes I rode-oftener I did not, and when going on foot, my next younger brother went with me. I mentioned that I had suc- ceeded to the "little rifle," and she was ever on my shoulder when in the woods. I had a little Scotch bull terrier-Tasso. Tasso was my constant com- panion during daylight; he went with me, of course, We set off early in the afternoon, on one of the last days in August. The cows were in the habit of feeding a mile or more away from the house. Their favorite grazing was on the walnut level, a level bench of land on the Hatchie Bottom, where the wild pea most abounded. It was free from under- growth, and thickly studded with walnut, hickory and ash. This lovely bench of land bordered on the Big Slough, where commenced an almost im- penetrable canebrake, extending into the river, some half mile off. We found the cows where expected. A familiar whoop started them homeward, the old " bell cow" taking the lead. The sun was then an hour high, and we stalked around on the Big Slough for a little hunt. We had gone but a short distance when, passing around the lap of a large fallen tree, a yearling deer sprang out, scampered off some forty yards, and stopped by a large clay-root. The barrel of the "little rifle" was ready and leveled upon the little fellow in an instant. Upon his bringing a halt,
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the sharp crack of the rifle startled the hooting owl, and with it came the shrill, distressing bleat of the fawn. I had shot too far back, breaking him down in the loins. Its bleating was most distressing. I had heard old hunters say that wild beasts of prey would come to the bleating of a fawn as far as they. could hear it. Our proximity to the known haunts of the bear and the panther instantly aroused my fears, and I fell to reloading my rifle. , I had not more than got the charge of powder to the muzzle, when a startling crash and cracking of the cane was heard across the slough. Before I had time to patch my bullet, we heard a plunge into the water, and the next moment a monster bear came up the bank of the slough, making his way to where the fawn was bleating. Tasso had by this time slipped from us, and reached the fawn simultaneously with the bear, disputing his right to interfere. In the mean time the fawn had worked his way behind the clay- root, from where we were standing, and out of our view. Tasso and the monster, were engaging one another over the little deer, which continued its bleating. Soon we heard the brave little dog squall out, as though he had received a death-blow. He ceased barking, and my fears were that it was "up with him." I ran down a naked bullet, and went on the double-quick, under cover of the large clay- root, to my little dog's relief. Reaching the spot I mounted the log, which brought my head and shoul- ders above the clay-root. The fawn had crawled some distance from the two contending hosts. Tasso was in the folds of the bear's huge arms, grappling
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with all his might under the throat of the monster, which was doing his best to hug-to squeeze the little fellow to death. His size alone saved him from having every bone in his little body crushed. Fretted so by Tasso, he had not discovered me, then . within ten feet of him. I surveyed the situation, so as not to endanger my little dog's life by an un- lucky shot, not being able, from his position, and the constant motion of his head, to put a bullet in the burr of his ear. Old bruin sat square upon his broad haunches, with his back to me. I aimed well, and put a ball through his loins, over the region of the kidneys, sprawling the monster his full length upon the ground, and Tasso was saved. Reloading, I sent a bullet through his brain, ending his misery. I had expected to find my little dog badly hurt, and was greatly delighted to find that he was only bitten through the ball of one of his fore feet, carrying away a couple of his toes. My brother, who had been a quiet looker-on, had taken charge of the little deer, which kept up its bleating until relieved by the hunting-knife.
The sun had gone down-it was growing dark in the bottom, and we were a mile and a half away from home. The fawn we could have carried, but there lay stretched out a monster bear, which, had it been fat, would have weighed six or more hun- dred pounds. It was my first bear, too. I felt that I could build up a fire and spend the night with him-would have done so, rather than leave him, so proud was I of my "first killing." I commenced blowing my born-(every one, in those days, who
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went into the woods, carried a 'blowing horn, and none could blow a horn better than "we boys"). "I continued to blow it at intervals, knowing it would soon be answered by the big horn from home. In the mean time we struck fire. To strike fire, in the days of flint locks, was an easy matter. Sharpen a stick, force it tight into the touch-hole, fill the pan with powder, and you could strike fire without en- dangering the "going-off" of your gun. We put fire to the tree-cap, and the leaves, being dry, and still clinging to the limbs, the lurid flames went high in the tree-tops, lighting up the woods for a hundred or more yards around. Blowing again, we were answered by the big horn. My father, fol- lowed by old Jack, soon rode up, inquiring what was the matter. Pointing to my first "killing," the matter fully explained itself. The bright light from the tree-top exposed to view the black monster and the innocent little deer, with its spots not yet passed off. The matter of the killing being explained to my father, he turned to Jack and gave him the order to return home in haste and tell Jim to hitch one yoke of his oxen to the fore-wheels of the wagon which he had been using during the day in hauling house-logs, and come with quick haste down the river road to a certain big log, and turn into the walnut level, bringing several of the men with him. Within a short hour Jim, with Bright and Darling yoked to the fore-wheels of the wagon, was making his way through the open woods to where we were. In another hour we were at home with my first " killing," and I was the recipient of all sorts of flat-
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tering remarks and comments from mother, broth- ers, and all the darkies. From that day I was numbered among the bear-hunters. I had often been along with the hunters-followed up the chase and witnessed the killing, but this was my first killing. The circumstances of the killing were re- counted to the screw-cutter. His comments and remarks as to my manner and coolness displayed, filled me almost to bursting with self-importance, and I became his favorite hunting companion.,,. I remember well that wakeful night. My young thoughts lingered and hovered around that clay- root all night. The pitiful bleating of the fawn; the startling crash and cracking of the cane, as the monster bear came rushing through it; the piercing squall of my little Tasso; the great bear sitting upon his broad haunches, with the brave little dog in the folds of his huge arms, and the little fellow grappling him under his throat, were scenes fresh with me all night, whether awake or dreaming.
Pardon, me, reader, for keeping you out of the big hunt so long. We will go into it in the next chapter.
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CHAPTER V.
Big Bear- Hunt-Temple, the Model Bear- Hunter, and His Dogs Cæsar and Bess-The Big Hurricane-Numerous Bear Killings-Encounter with a Panther-Roosting Wild Turkeys-Camp Life in the Woods-The Locked Buck Horns-The Deer Lick Slosh-The Big Bear-The Killing-Camp Stories and Anecdotes-The Last Day's Hunt and the Last Killing.
Now, reader, we are ready for the big bear-hunt. Already a month has elapsed since it was talked about. Temple was loth to go into it. An old and experienced hunter, owning two of the best trained and most valuable dogs in the Big Hatchie country, and fearing, from the inexperienced and often reck- less shooting, that they would as likely be the victims of the shots as the bear, it was not surprising that he should feel a reluctance in joining in the hunt. He promised to go in, however, and was true to his word; beside, he was curious to know something of the Big Hurricane. Tuesday before Christmas was the day appointed to meet; the place of ren- dezvous, at a point named near the Big Hurricane, ten or more miles up the river. It was understood that every hunter take with him a man-servant, except Temple. My father declined going, but promised to join in if the hunt should extend down in his hunting-ground. Steptoe would'nt go unless
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my father went; beside, he was getting old, and his old gray mare was lean in flesh. The signs, as to the weather, were favorable. We had had a dry winter up to that time, and the bottom was right for a good run.
Temple and myself set off, as soon as we could see, to follow a blind trail leading up the bottom, followed by old Jack. Our course led through good hunting woods. I suggested to Temple that he had better " yoke his dogs; they might strike a fresh scent, which might delay our reaching the ground at the appointed time." "Oh, no, they wait for the word to 'go in.' I shall certainly not give it to them." Jogging along single file, at a six-mile pace, we soon reached Big Creek. Finding an easy ford, we crossed without difficulty, hurrying on to the Big Lagoon, where we encountered diffi- culty. in finding a crossing. It is an ugly, muddy stream, with a miry bottom. Turning up it, we came to a shallow ford. The opposite bank pre- sented a high bluff; we crossed, however, riding _ near the water's edge until reaching an abrupt bend, where the bluff terminated. The banks of the lagoon, from which we crossed, was thickly studded with tall cane, the tops bending down to the water's edge. „Coming to the abrupt bend, Temple, who was riding before, reined up his horse, and pointing up the lagoon, remarked, in a low tone of voice: "What a pity! what a pity! Old fellow, we must hands off; it will never do to draw blood before we get together and organize." The object of his remarks was a huge bear, in the act of lapping water, stand;
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ing on the margin of the stream, on the opposite bank, broadside toward us, and within easy rifle range. He raised his great head, and deliberately viewed us, seemingly unconcerned-a most tempt- ing shot. Cæsar and Bess were not slow in dis- covering him. With a fixed gaze, the hair down their backs standing at an angle of forty-five degrees, they looked up at their master now and then for the word to "go in." I begged for a shot, Temple replied : "No; it will not do; it is a pity to pass him, but it must be so. We will get him this evening or to-morrow. He is housed up not an hundred yards from where he is taking water. Lets
go." Turning to the right, up the bank, we went on our way in the direction of the Big Hurricane, then two or more miles away. Reaching the vicinity of the place where we were to meet, Temple blew his horn; it was answered, and we soon joined Cary and Captain Albert. Pet and Ab had not yet arrived. They were soon up, and all dismounted for a talk. Six hunters were present, including my little self. The Captain and Cary were comparative strangers to Temple. Cary was regarded as the most experienced and expert hunter present, and specially familiar with the Big Hurricane and its surroundings. Earnest in speech, more truthful and reliable than is common to hunters, he was expected . to open the subject of organizing the hunt. Addressing himself to Temple, he said:
" Well, Mr. Temple, we have appointed this hunt that we might have the pleasure of having you with us, and to see your celebrated dogs handle a bear. '
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Your celebrity as a bear-hunter is known to us. We have come prepared for several days' hunt, if it should prove agreeable. Though a young man, and a comparative young hunter, I have found, by experience, that to hunt bear properly and success- fully, where there is more than one hunter in the hunt, it is best that we be perfectly agreed as to the order and rules that should govern us. I pro- pose, therefore, Mr. Temple, that you suggest the rules that shall govern us in the hunt." Temple spoke slowly and distinctly, approving heartily what had been said, remarking further, that it had been his misfortune to have drawn out of hunts for the lack of order and a good understanding. ""I make it a rule for instance, that when a 'start' is made, if any of the hunters should halloo out to encourage the dogs, I call mine off and quit. It is also a rule with me, that if any of the hunters should, by accident or reckless shooting, wound or kill a dog, I draw out and take my dogs, or he is required to do so. I have noticed that the over anxious, hasty hunter, is more apt to scare the bear than kill him, and as often shoots a dog, when in a close fight, as the bear. My dogs are trained to stay with me until I give them the word to go. They fight close-too close sometimes-when the bear is wounded. When hunting alone, I never have to shoot the second time. I have trained them to hold a bear at bay, at the risk of getting scratched. When I think he aims to make a big run, I let the slut go in; otherwise I keep her with me. The dog is usually enough to hold any bear in check until I
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get up. Neither of then give 'mouth,' when on & 'run.' When 'up,' they take him above the elbow of the fore-arm, until they bring him to a 'stop,' then they bark a few minutes, and wait for my coming. If I am not up soon, they give 'mouth' again. The few rules which are known to all good bear-hunters being observed, we will have a pleasant and agreeable hunt. I should have mentioned that no dog should be allowed in the hunt that will run a deer or any- thing else but a bear or panther."
Temple's suggestions were heartily agreed to, and the hunt was organized, Cary being chosen leader. Captain Albert and Ab, with three of the negroes, went to select a suitable place to camp, on a small branch running into the lagoon, a short distance below. Cary, Pet, Temple and myself filed off for a short hunt. Temple had related the circumstance of our having seen the bear in crossing the lagoon. It was agreed that we go and take him, remarking that he knew pretty much his run. We were soon on the bluff overlooking the dense cane-brake in which he was "housed." Cary. suggested that he knew a good crossing a half mile above; that he and Pet would go up and cross, and come down the lagoon, outside of the thick cane, which would insure his taking down the stream, or crossing it, about where we saw him taking water; that we remain on the bluff until the "start," when we could determine his movements .: "You can put your dogs in, Mr. Temple, when you think it best.". Cary and Pet rode away. Temple and myself remained on the high bluff. Seating ourselves
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upon a large log, we quietly interested ourselves noticing the movements of Cæsar and Bess. They took their stand on the brink of the bluff, gazing across the lagoon in the supposed direction where the bear was "housed," throwing their heads one side now and then, to catch the first sound that should come across from the hunters or dogs. Temple, pointing to an opening in the dense forest that overshadowed the cane-brake, remarked:
"I'll bet Cæsar's ears that he is 'housed up among the old logs in that opening, where the cane is thickest."
He had hardly finished speaking, when the dogs broke out in a fierce bay at the very place.
"There he is now; hold ! The whole pack is upon him."
Cæsar and Bess stood trembling, looking around every moment for their master to say "go."
"Bless me!" says Temple, "what mouths! That fuss ought to start the devil himself from his den. Hark! we will soon hear a shot! Notice the lull in the dog's baying. The hunters are close up."
In a moment the sharp crack of the rifle rang through the woods, followed by the crash of the cane. ' :
"Bad shot. He is out, now, for a big run. The dogs can't hold him in that thick cane. He aims to go down. Let's be off."
Down under the bluff we went, crossing at the same place where we had crossed in the morning. Ascending the opposite bank, we immediately passed into an open glade, running out for a hundred or more
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vards. The bear and dogs, judging from their course as indicated by the sounds, would pass through the glade. The dogs were making a desperate effort to hold him in the cane. Just then a yearling bear came dashing out of the cane from the direction of the dogs, entering the glade near us.
"Don't shoot!" said Temple.
He gave the word to Cæsar and Bess to "Take!" In less than sixty yard's run they overhauled him. When we got up, they had him snatched. Temple drew out his long knife and dispatched him. By this time the big bear entered the glade, passing within forty yards of us. The pack were up with him. As he cleared the cane he made an opening of several yards between himself and the hounds, when Cæsar and Bess were told to " go in." Mak- ing their best run, they brought him to a "stop" as he was about entering the cane on the opposite side of the glade.
"Take your time, hunters, he will go no further,", said Temple, as we joined Cary and Pet, in pursuit, on a big run.
They brought a halt, and we closed in upon the exciting scene, taking our time. Reaching within safe shooting distance, Cary said to Temple, "Give him the first shot.". ....
"No," says Temple; "let him who shot first try it again."
The bear was making a desperate effort to get away, the dogs fighting him close. Cæsar and Bess were dividing their strength on either side of him, both fast hold of his arms above the hock or elbow,
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bringing him now and then upon his knees, and the · half-hounds pinching him close in behind. Bear was never worried more. Pet stood with his rifle leveled. It being his second shot, he wanted it-to be a death-shot. Temple's dogs completely covered his sides with their bodies; his head was in constant motion, swinging and snapping, first one side and then the other, and it was next to impossible to put his bullet in his brain. Pet, already worried from intense excitement, approached nearer, but was still unable to find a safe place to put his bullet with telling effect. In the meantime, the dogs pressed the old fellow so hard, in his madness he rose upon his hind legs, and, making a desperate effort to rid himself of the dogs, made a surprising leap, reach- ing a tree standing near, carrying Bess up with him. Temple's quick eye discovered her peril, and sent & well-aimed ball under the burr of the monster's ear before he had got more than fifteen feet from the ground, his slut still holding her grip. The bear fell, falling upon her. Temple was soon to her re lief, rolling the monster off of her. She was none the worse off, however, for her fall. The dogs gath- ered around him, pinching him, now and then, to see if he was dead. The hunters stood around in gleeful delight, remarking upon the fight and the dexterous skill of Cæsar and Bess in handling a bear,
"It surpasses anything I have ever witnessed in all my bear-hunting career. Your dogs, Mr. Temple, surpass even what I had expected of them. Were they mine, I would value them above the price of a small plantation."
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"Yes," said Temple, "they have behaved very well in this fight. I was fearful that Bess would be hard to satisfy. I seldom let her go in upon a wounded bear. Beside, she and the dog had just drawn their teeth out of a yearling bear when I let them in this fight."
"A yearling bear!" said Cary; "when, and where ?"
"Less than two hundred yards out yonder in the slash you will find a yearling bear stretched out on the ground. As we crossed the lagoon and entered the opening the little fellow came dashing out of ... the cane, scared up by yonder dogs. I told my dogs to 'take,' and in a few jumps they overhauled him. When we got up they had the little fellow stretched out on the ground. I knifed him, leaving him as he lay, and told the dogs to go in this fight, and joined you and friend Pet, as we did."
Turning to me he asked if I would go with the boys (a couple of them had just come up) and have him dragged up, and we would butcher them both on the same ground. The yearling was soon laying beside the monster.
I will mention here that a bear less than a year old is called a " cub." The cubs gang with their dam until they are a year old; they then take to themselves, and are called yearlings until they are two years old. Parturition with the bear generally takes place in February. The yearling knifed by Temple was about twenty-one months old. Pet was examining the bear for signs of his bullet-hole.
"You must have missed him," said Cary. 5
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" Well, I reckon I did, as I can't find any bullet. hole except the one in his head. The cane was very thick between him and me when I fired. My ball must have struck one and turned."
" Well, we had as well commence taking off the old fellow's hide," says Cary. "Come, boys, out with your knives."
Taking hold of one of his great paws, he re marked:
"Old fel, you have made your last run. I have had this old bear on a good many runs, Mr. Temple; he is an old acquaintance in these woods. Had he have gotten to the Big Hurricane, where he was aiming to go, it would have been a sore thing to have gotten him out. We may thank your dogs for his hide this time."
His hide was soon off. Pet examined again, but couldn't find his bullet-hole. Quartered and packed, Cary took from behind his saddle a cord carried for such purposes, cut a slit through the under jaw of the yearling into his mouth, noosed the cord around his neck, passing the end through the slit into his mouth, and made it fast to his horse's tail. Spreading the little fellow upon his belly, it was announced that we were ready for the camp. Start- ing off down the lagoon, remarking that we would find an easy crossing below, we all followed, with prospects of a tender bear-steak for supper. It was surprising to see with what ease the little bear was cordelled over logs and rough places. Remarking upon it, Cary said it was the way he took most of his bear home; that he "had frequently carried a
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three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bear six or eight miles home, tied to his horse's tail."
We soon reached the camp, admirably located for a sort of winter quarters. The boys had a blazing, hot hickory fire ready for us. Night was hedging in fast, and Pete, the leading butcher (the Captain's servant), was told to hurry up; that steaks were wanted from the yearling for supper. Ab was a sort of head steward in camp. His looks and pro- portions had marked him out for one-fat, and fond of good eating himself. Only too fond of good whisky-any kind of whisky-he groaned heavily when the article was ruled out of camp. The yearling's steaks were ready for the pan, tender as a kid, and his fat ribs just right for roasting. Bread, potatoes and salt were all that was brought into camp. For meat we depended upon the woods. The Cap- tain was not in camp. Inquiry was made after him. Pete said that he had gone to "roost" a gang of wild turkies, and would be back soon.
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