334 The Wilderness Hunter. 



My friend General "Red" Jackson, of Bellemeade, 

 in the pleasant mid-county of Tennessee, once did a feat 

 which casts into the shade even the feats of the men of 

 the lariat. General Jackson, who afterwards became one 

 of the ablest and most renowned of the Confederate 

 cavalry leaders, was at the time a young officer in the 

 Mounted Rifle Regiment, now known as the 3d United 

 States Cavalry. It was some years before the Civil War, 

 and the regiment was on duty in the Southwest, then the 

 debatable land of Comanche and Apache. While on a 

 scout after hostile Indians, the troops in their march 

 roused a large grisly which sped off across the plain in 

 front of them. Strict orders had been issued against 

 firing at game, because of the nearness of the Indians. 

 Young Jackson was a man of great strength, a keen 

 swordsman, who always kept the finest edge on his blade, 

 and he was on a swift and mettled Kentucky horse, which 

 luckily had but one eye. Riding at full speed he soon 

 overtook the quarry. As the horse hoofs sounded nearer, 

 the grim bear ceased its flight, and whirling round stood 

 at bay, raising itself on its hind-legs and threatening its 

 pursuer with bared fangs and spread claws. Carefully 

 riding his horse so that its blind side should be towards 

 the monster, the cavalryman swept by at a run, handling 

 his steed with such daring skill that he just cleared the 

 blow of the dreaded fore-paw, while with one mighty 

 sabre stroke he cleft the bear's skull, slaying the grinning 

 beast as it stood upright. 



