DRIVING NAILS WITH BULLETS. 47 



to the inmate ; and night and day, while these arks drifted 

 under umbrageous forests, their occupants were busy considering 

 how their lives might be most dearly sold. Audubon notices 

 curious practices connected with testing the skill of marksmen, not 

 uncommon in his own time in "Virginia. " At stated times, those 

 desiring a trial of skiU would be assembled," writes the natu- 

 ralist, " and betting a trifling sum, put up a target, in the centre 

 of which a common-sized nail is hammered for about two-thirds 

 of its length. The marksmen make choice of what they con- 

 sider a proper distance, which may be forty paces. Each man 

 cleans the interior of his barrel, which is called wiping it, 

 places a ball in the palm of his hand, pouring as much powder 

 from his horn upon it as will cover it. This quantity is sup- 

 posed to be sufficient for any distance within a hundred yards. 

 A shot which comes very close to the nail is considered that of 

 an indifferent marksman ; the bending of the nail is, of course, 

 somewhat better ; but nothing less than hitting it right on the 

 head is satisfactory. One out of three shots generally hits the 

 nail, and should the shooters amount to half-a-dozen, two nails 

 are frequently needed before each can have a shot. Those who 

 drive the nail have a further trial amongst themselves, and the 

 two best shots out of these generally settle the affair ; when 

 all the sportsmen adjourn to some house, and spend an hour or 

 two in friendly intercourse, appointing, before they part, a day 

 for another trial." 



While at the town of Frankfort, Audubon had an opportunity 

 of seeing the celebrated Daniel Boon " barking squirrels," or, in 

 less technical phrase, striking them out of their hiding-places by 

 firing into the bark of the tree immediately beside the position 

 they crouch into. Audubon went out with Boon to see the 

 sport, and writes : — 



" We walked out together, and followed the rocky margins of 

 the Kentucky river until we reached a piece of flat land thickly 

 covered with black walnuts, oaks, and hickories. As the mast 

 was a good one that year, squirrels were seen gamboling on 

 every tree around us. My companion, a stout, hale, and athletic 

 man, dressed in a homespun hunting shirt, bare-legged and 

 moccasined, carried a long and heavy rifle, which, as he was 

 loading it, he said had proved efficient in all his former under- 



