FOREST AND STREAM. 



197 



with my cattle. I attempted the task and frightened them; 

 they came together, and as I endeavored to free myself 

 they became frantic and started to run; they kicked me 

 under the harrow, where I became wedged between the 

 iron teeth; in this position I was dragged perhaps fifty 

 yards, and was only extricated by the interposition of a 

 clod or stump, which sent the harrow flying some ten feet 

 into the air, and left me "master of the field," but appar- 

 ently dead. One of the cruel iron teeth had gone entirely 

 through one arm, aud another had made a hole in my head. 

 The overseer, who chanced to witness the accident, rushed 

 forth to pick me up; he and his wife were confident that I 

 must die, she insisting that I should be sent to my mother. 

 So in the arms of a man, seated in a small wagon, I was 

 taken in less than an hour to my home, where I spent two 

 months in bed, since which time I have studied agriculture 

 in the abstract and not practically. 



But the hair-breadth escapes of my boyhood were not 

 connected only with my waking hours, as the subjoined 

 particulars will prove. I had gone to bed on a certain even- 

 ing in my usual health, and excepting the harrow scar, my 

 limbs and body were without a blemish. When summoned 

 to breakfast the following morning, I uttered an incoherent 

 reply, but made no attempt to get up. The more I thought 

 "the more my wonder grew." Instinctively passing my 

 hand to my hip, I found there a flesh wound which was 

 altogether a new experience. The bed clothes all red with 

 blood now caught my eyes, and a kind of mysterious hor- 

 ror took complete possession of my mind. I shouted for 

 help, and the whole family were immediately in attendance, 

 when a small chair, the back of which had been broken the 

 day before, was found near my bedside, with the top of 

 one of its splintered pieces covered with a crimson stain. 

 The truth was, I had walked off the bed in my sleep, had 

 fallen upon the chair, and inflicted a wound more than an 

 inch deep in my hip, and had resumed my position in bed 

 without being, conscious of the accident. The recollection 

 of this accident always filled me with wonder, and I do not 

 know that a similar one has ever been recorded. 



Another incident to which I would allude, was as fol- 

 lows, and I hope the reader will forget my egotism in think- 

 ing of my novel predicament. It was in the year 1836, 

 and I was a boarder in a house which then stood at the cor- 

 ner of Broadway and Morris street, in New York. The 

 house was five stories high, and had a flat roof, and while 

 my fellow boarders were in the habit of resorting thither to 

 smoke their cigars in the cool of summer evenings, my only 

 visit to this roof was performed at midnight in a deep 

 sleep. Clothed in my morning gown, I had strangely 

 found my way upstairs, and whilst looking out upon the 

 Bay of New York, and watching the play of the moonlight 

 upon the waters, I was suddenly awakened, and found my- 

 self standing within five feet of the edge of the roof, from 

 which two steps more would have precipitated me to the 

 pavement below. The terror which overcame me on mak- 

 ing this discovery can hardly be imagined. 



Two other narrow escapes which I can never forget, oc- 

 curred among the Catskill Mountains. On the first occa- 

 sion I was alone. After having scrambled to the top of a 

 very large boulder, lying in the bed of the Plauterkill 

 stream, and overhung with foliage, for the purpose of 

 sketching a particular view, I suddenly heard a crunching 

 noise, felt myself moving, and by the time I had seized a limb 

 above me, the great rock had tumbled into a basin several 

 feet below its previous insecure foundation. Had I re- 

 mained upon the boulder, instead of jumping as I did, I 

 should probably have been crushed to a jelly. On the 

 other occasion alluded to, I was the guest of three very 

 dear friends with whom I performed my first tramp through 

 the wild scenery of Plauterkill Clove. In our upward pas- 

 sage, we were obliged to scale a precipice which was well 

 nigh a thousand feet high, and in doing this it was neces- 

 sary to turn a corner, where the passage between an upper 

 wall of rock and the abyss was not over twelve inches 

 wide. At this particular point there grew a small cedar 

 bush, the roots of which had hitherto afforded a needed 

 projection for the foot of the climber. With this locality 

 my companions were quite familiar, and after they had 

 scaled the precipice, or rounded the corner, and stood upon 

 a secure rock beyond, the three "rascally sprigs of divin- 

 ity," as I subsequently called them, began to yell and howl 

 as if for the very purpose of frightening me out of my 

 wits. If they did not succeed in that they certainly did in 

 reducing my nerves to the consistency of rags. Vowing 

 that I would not budge until my tormentors were out of 

 sight, I rested for a while, and then passed around the dan- 

 gerous point in safety; but in doing this my pressure upon 

 the cedar bush was so great that it gave away and disap- 

 peared in the abyss below. During the night which fol- 

 lowed this day of mountain climbing, while my three friends 

 were quietly in a huge room which we occupied together 

 in a Dutch farmhouse, they were suddenly startled by a 

 most horrible and unearthly moan, only to discover the de- 

 ponent in mortal conflict with a nkfliim.are, born of the 

 Devil's Chasm in Planterkill Clove.* 



Another, and last incident worth mentioning in this con- 

 nection, occurred on the lower St. Lawrence in 1852. In 

 this escape, however, there were no less than six persons 

 interested besides myself, viz., one of my Plauterkill 

 friends, with our wives, and the three Canadian sailors 

 who managed the noble little schooner in which we were 

 voyaging to the river Saguenay from Quebec. The day 



*As all tlieee friends have since then acquired considerable 



Rev. Loui 



had been bright and beautiful, but the sun went into a 

 cloud as if unhappy. A cooling breeze gathered over the 

 waters, then came a fog and after it a series of ugly gusts 

 from the northeast. At midnight something like a hurricane 

 swept across the waters, but our splendid little vessel shook 

 herself like a duck, and then dashed again into the opposing 

 billows. The wind and the waters had it all their own 

 way, and the only voice that was heard in our vessel came 

 from our captain, and his' words were: "Don't fret, don't 

 fret." In answer to one of my questions he did reply: "I 

 think we are near Saguenay," and as I thought of the ter- 

 rible rocky reef and interminable sand-bar which I knew 

 were coiled under the waters, ready for our destruction in 

 that treacherous place, I felt myself growing pale as death. 

 We threw the lead and the cry of "thirty fathoms" caused 

 a glorious smile to beam from the face of our captain; an- 

 other swing with the sudden shout of "three fathoms" 

 made each one hold his breath. At that moment I felt that 

 our doom was sealed. I flew to the little cabin, and to my 

 astonishment, found the ladies comparatively quiet. They 

 were sick and also ignorant of our real situation. They 

 asked me why I trembled so, and I told them I was cold. 

 That was indeed almost a lie, but the thought that all 

 these precious lives had been brought to such a dreadful 

 end through my instrumentality, distracted me beyond 

 measure. In this condition did wc continue for about an 

 hour, when the light of day began to appear, and in thirty 

 minutes more we were snugly and safely moored in the 

 little harbor, just within the mouth of the Saguenay. Our he- 

 roic captain, with the help of Providence, had fought his way 

 against the wind into the secure haven; and we subsequent- 

 ly heard that during this dreadful storm no less than sixty 

 vessels had been wrecked on the river and Gulf of St. Law- 

 rence, between Gaspe and Quebec. 



hodhnd, Tmvn md (Sarden. 



HEDGES AND THEIR USES. 



]STo IX.— The Osage Obange. — Madura. 



" The shady nook 

 Of hazels and the bright leaved maclura 

 Intermingle in hedge row trim." 



THE Maclura is found growing in great abundance, per- 

 fectly rampant near what is called the "Red River' 

 plantation in Texas and Arkansas, and it is also to be found 

 very abundant in all the country east of the Rocky Mountains. 

 This plant or tree, is found as far north as the thirty-fourth 

 degree north latitude. 



This plant will grow perfectly well in all parts of the 

 United States, as has been most satisfactorily proved by 

 numerous well tried experiments. The question: "Will 

 the Maclura grow and make a good hedge in the United 

 States?" — no longer needs an answer, for every experiment 

 has given its testimony in the affirmative. 



This very interesting tree in its favorite localities, the 

 Arkansas River, and the western tributaries of the Missis- 

 sippi, attains the height of 50 or 60 feet, The Osage 

 orange is in its branches a light-colored wood, and is 

 armed with sharp spines at every joint, a very formidable 

 armor, or self -protection ; these spinal points being very 

 strong and sharp are about an inch and one half in length. 

 The leaves of this plant are long and ovate, andaccuminate, 

 or pointed at the extremity; in color deep green, very glossy 

 and of brighter color than the true orange leaves. The 

 blossoms of this plant are of a greenish color, and the fruit 

 about the size and shape of an orange, but the Osage 

 orange possesses a very rough skin or outside coveringmuch 

 more tough than the orange of Florida. 



Previous to the year 1858 but little compared with what 

 is now known of this plant, was then known. It was at 

 that time regarded as a sort of curiosity, having been first 

 introduced into the American gardens from seeds procured 

 of the Osage Indians. From "this circumstance the plant 

 derived the common name of Osage orange. 



The final introduction of thib tree as an aid to the horti- 

 culturist may be said to be due to Lewis and Clark's expe- 

 dition. By them it was called Madura, in honor of Wm. 

 Maclure, President of the American Academy of Natural 

 Sciences. The Osage orange is one of that peculiar class of 

 plants called the Monoecious; it does not perfect its fruits 

 unless both male and female trees are growing in the same 

 vicinity. The Osage orange cannot be called very beauti- 

 ful as an ornamental tree for the reason of its looseness 

 of habit, or inclination to throw out many and widely 

 spreading branches. Its bright, glossy, shining leaves, and 

 the very unique and peculiar appearance of the full grown 

 tree compensate in a good degree for what would otherwise 

 be called defects in its character. 



This tree when covered with its large orange colored 

 fruit, is indeed a beautiful sight to behold, and was justly 

 styled by Mr. Downing "one of our most interesting and 

 valuable ornamental trees." 



One of these trees introduced upon a small lawn where 

 but few specimen trees are growing, gives a decided and 

 rich variety to the grouping that cannot be obtained from 

 the use of any other kind of tree. As a combination tree, 

 we call it first-class, and by no means to be omitted from 

 the selection of trees for a beautiful garden. It is one of 

 the finest of our shade trees, a hardy growing, clean, desi- 

 rable wood. By many amateurs the stout growth and for- 

 midable thorns have been thought admirable qualities, ad- 

 ding much to its usefulness as a plant well adapted to 

 hedges. These arc undoubtedly qualifications in its favor, 



and this plant has, as is well known, made a steady advance 

 in securing the public confidence as a very useful and cheap 

 live fence plant. In all our middle and southern states the 

 Osage orange has been adapted as a hedge plant, and as far 

 we can learn has always given entire satisfaction. This 

 plant requires, to grow well and fully develope itself as a 

 tree* a rich, deep loam. As it is quite tender when young, 

 the soil should be also somewhat dry; perhaps a dry 

 soil is preferable to a very moist one. 



One of the best ways of procuring this hedge plant is 

 raising the same from the seed. And in this more of care 

 than real difficulty occurs. The ground for the reception 

 of the seed must be prepared in the most thorough manner ; 

 deeply trenched and well pulverised; the seed when pre- 

 pared for sowing is to be planted in drills, eighteen to 

 twenty inches apart, with about twelve seeds to one foot in 

 a row, or the seeds as near as you can drop them one inch 

 apart, October and November the planting months of the 

 fall. 



For the fall planting the seeds are to be planted soon 

 after they are gathered. It is always best when one can 

 (say many authorities) to plant the Osage orange seed in 

 the fall. For spring planting you will be quite particular 

 to observe the following directions : — 



Your seed must always be frozen or soaked. If you pre- 

 fer to plant frozen seed it should be well mixed with sand 

 and placed in boxes that will not hold water, and then ex- 

 posed to the cold freezing weather of the winter months. 

 These seeds can then be planted in the spring as soon as 

 they begin to sprout. If you wish to soak your seed, as 

 soon as first of April put: the seeds to be soaked in a tigJJt 

 vessel, and cover them with hot (not boiling) water and let 

 them soak in warm water about seven days, changing the 

 water thrice or more times to prevent fermentation, which 

 is to be avoided. Then put these seeds in boxes of four to 

 six inches in depth, and mix well and intimately with 

 sand. These seeds are to be kept moist and warm until 

 they show signs of sprouting, which in most cases will be in 

 a few days; then plant your seed as before recommended: 

 If your ground is good and friable and does not crust or 

 bake as it is termed, you may be sure of soon seeing the 

 seeds peeping up under the form of the hedge plant. It 

 the above directions are fully carried out you may rest 

 assured of success in the future. 



To set out the young plants in the hedge row in which 

 they are to stand is the next consideration for the gardener 

 or the proprietor to consider. We pre-suppose the ground 

 to have been before this deeply ploughed and thoroughly 

 pulverised and broken up. A line is now to be stretched, 

 and the plants to be carefully taken from the nursery 

 and selected with much care as to size and distances apart. 

 The Osage orange is reckoned in the catalogue of hedge 

 plants as a third rate forest tree— and all such trees when 

 used as hedges require natural or artificial dwarfing. We 

 recommend in all cases the natural system as being always 

 the best, and our own treatment of hedges in this manner 

 has given us the utmost confidence in the utility of this 

 method, f 



We do not like to cut the Moclura when we can help it, 

 and have found when the same has been set six inches apart 

 in single row it has almost invariably taken on the 

 dwarf form, growing nearly into a fine shrub, still retaining 

 in a singular degree all its wonted health and vigor, and 

 making a good firm protection, sooner, and at a much less 

 cost of time and money, than any other mode of planting 

 that I am conversant with. 



The cultivation of a. hedge of Ihis kind for the first two 

 years is mainly keeping the ground about the same clear 

 from all weeds and well pulverised. 



In some sections of our country these hedges sometimes 

 suffer the first winter from the "heaving of the frost," as 

 it is called. This will not occur on well drained grounds. 

 Every one knoAvs, or should know, that the process called 

 hedge draining, is formed by turning a furrow towards the 

 plant on each side late in the fall to carry off the winter 

 rains. The Osage orange in two years generally acquires a 

 strong vigorous root, and is now to be cut down and put in. 

 trimming for future use. This is the heading down and 

 training. 



In the spring of the third year the trees should be cut 

 down to the surface of the ground. Each root will then 

 send up a number of strong thrifty shoots, and when these 

 have grown to be one foot in height they should be like the 

 old plant, cut down to within two inches of the ground. 

 These shoots — for the roots have become strong and vigor- 

 ous — will in their turn again send up an abundance of shoots 

 from the place of the fcrmer cutting. When these last 

 have grown to ten or twelve inches, cut them off down to 

 within two inches of the last cutting, pruning several 

 times during the season, for— these plants having got good 

 soil rapidly approximate towards a good hedge — being quite 

 particular to keep in view the final shape and appearance 

 of your hedge. In order to have a fine hedge you must 

 keep in your mind as a fixed fact, that no hedge can be 

 called good which is destitute of proportion and regularity 

 of form from the beeri lining. 



*A fine effect may be produced by a peculiar mode of pruning called 

 "cutting back." Mr. Downing showed us the effect of this mode of 

 pruning upon a fine specimen near Baltimore. The English call this 

 method of pruning "stalling,* 1 compelling the plant to send out a dozen 

 leading shoots instead of one. A plant thus treated becomes in a few 

 years a gigantic bush, perfectly round headed, and very luxuriant, as 

 was the one we saw at Dr. Edmondston's. The plant was twenty-four 

 years old, and measured in circumference one hundred and sixty feet. 

 the growth of the limbs being perfectly wonderful to behold, Had we 

 not, had the pleasure of seeing this wonderful Specimen of the gardener's 

 art we could scarcely believed it to have been a fact. 



tPlanting the plants within six inches of each other when they are of" 

 equal size gives all an ccpial start, and consequently they take the shrub: 

 form alike. 



