28 LIFE OF AUDUBON. 



the bear was. I saw Iiis eye sparkle with joy, his rusty blanket 

 was thrown off his shoulders, his brawny arms swelled with 

 blood, as he drew his scalping-knife from his belt with a flourish 

 which showed that fighting was his delight. He told me to 

 mount a small sapling, because a bear cannot climb one, while 

 it can go up a large tree with the nimbleness of a squirrel. The 

 two other Indians seated themselves at the entrance, and the 

 hero went in boldly. All was silent for a few moments, when 

 he came out and said the bear was dead, and I might come 

 down. The Indians cut a long vine, went into the hollow tree, 

 fastened it to the animal, and with their united force dragged it 

 out. I really thought that this was an exploit. 



" Since then I have seen many Indian exploits, which proved 

 to me their heroism. In Europe or America the white hunter 

 would have taken his game home and talked about it for weeks, 

 but these simple people only took off the animal's skin, hung 

 the flesh in quarters on the trees, and continued their hunt. 

 Unable to follow them, I returned to the camp, accompanied by 

 one Indian, who broke the twigs of the bushes we passed, and 

 sent back two squaws on the track, who brought the flesh and 

 skin of the bear to the camp. 



" At length the nuts were nearly all gathered, and the game 

 grew scarce, and the hunters remained most of the day in camp ; 

 and they soon made up their packs, broke up their abodes, put 

 all on board their canoes, and paddled off down the Mississippi 

 for the little prairie on the Arkansas. 



" Their example made a stir among the whites, and my impa- 

 tient partner begged me to cross the bend and see if the ice was 

 yet too solid for us to ascend the river. Accordingly, accompanied 

 by two of the crew, I made my way to the Mississippi. The 

 weather was milder, and the ice so sunk as to be scarcely per- 

 ceptible, and I pushed up the shore to a point opposite Cape 

 Girardeau. We hailed the people on the opposite bank, and a 

 robust yeUow man came across, named Loume. He stated that 

 he was a son of the Spanish governor of Louisiana, and a good 

 pilot on the river, and would take our boat up provided we had 

 four good hands, as he had six. A bargain was soon struck ; 

 their canoe hauled into the woods, some blazes struck on the 

 trees, and all started for Cash Creek. 



