242 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct 25, 1883. 



A STORY OF THE OLD HUNTER'S HOME. 



"The memory of joys that are pasl-both pleasant and mournful 

 to the b6uL" — Ossian. 



WHO wrote "Ossiah? u Like Junius, I fear — statnominh 

 umbra. Dr. Johnson stoutly persisted. I believe, that 

 the connection with it claimed by McPherson, was rather 

 spurious, and a fierce controversy arose between the famous 

 dogmatist and the alleged translator. Tn his lampoon of 

 Boswell, Wolcot alludes" to the determined hostility of John- 

 son, in these words, fitly characteristic of that personifica- 

 tion of toadyism : 



"Thou jackal, leading lion Johnson forth, 

 To eat McPtaqrson to Ms baKyenortt; 

 To fright, . gnw pro) s ra wStfa his roar 

 And shake the Hebrides trctfa si, .ire to shore." 



It does not matter, however, who was the author, as it does 

 not matter wbethet Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare, or some 

 blatant Congressman the eloquent speech with which he 

 annually treats Buncombe. Somebody wrote the lines at the 

 head of this article, and whoever he was, was possessed of 

 rare gifts of expression. "The memory of joys that are 

 past," is "both pleasant and mournful to the soul." Rogers 

 canonized the pleasures of memory in a charming piece of 

 poetry. We all ought to canonize it— for it anri hope are 

 often all that are left to poor mortals with which to brighten 

 existence. But I did not begin this article with a view of 

 indulging in any particular moral reflections, or showing to 

 my readers that J have occasionally wandered into that 

 garden where the roses of poetry bloom in all their fragrant 

 beauty. 1 began with the view of presenting to the patrons of 

 the Fohest and Stream an incident which has long had a 

 place in the storehouse of my memory and to which I often 

 recur with the feelings depicted in the words of Ossian which 

 1 have quoted, 



II, "in the course of human events," that part performed 

 by me in the drama of human life shail hecome important in 

 the history of the nineteenth century, and some ambitious 

 biographer shall desire to link his name with mine and thus 

 give him a place in the temple of fame which he would not 

 otherwise have had, he will begin his personal histotyby 

 telhng his readers that I was "born of poor but respectable 

 parentage," the descendants, on the one side, of an English 

 foot soldier, and on the other of a cook, or washerwoman, or 

 chambermaid, of the early settlers at Jamestown, and that 

 the place of my nativity was a commanding hill on the banks 

 of a stream in the upper part of the county in which I now 

 live. In case he wishes to rival the habits of Boswell, that 

 "pilot to a literary whale," he will state that the dwelling 

 in which my eyes first beheld the light of Heaven was situ- 

 ated on thehighway which, in that day, led from Rocking- 

 ham to the now defunct town of Lawre'nceviHe, in the county 

 of .Montgomery, while south of it, about two hundred and 

 fifty yards, passed the public road between Carthage and 

 Wadesboro. with a branch to Fayetteville, the then market 

 town of the valley of the Pee Dee. If he shall so state be will 

 speak the facts, and for the present, at least, I will allow my 

 imaginary biographer a little repose, 



Your readers must remember that in the middle counties 

 of this State, through which the parallel fi."i of north latitude 

 runs, the winters are exceedingly mild, compared to what 

 they are in New England or New York. It. is rarely the 

 case that the snow falls to a greater depth than five inches 

 at any one time during the wiuter, or remains on the ground 

 longer than four or five days. Sleigh riding, which is a 

 common pastime in the more rigorous latitudes, where people 

 are prepared for its full enjoymeiUC'i. is, entirely unknown, 

 and as to taking a journey of fifty miles or more in that mode 

 of conveyance, be would be regarded as a mere dreamer 

 who should attempt it. Now, there is no use in a disputation 

 about tastes — de gvntibus a«i< eat dUynitandiim — but I must be 

 pardoned if I express a decided disinclination to expose 

 myself, or my horse either, to the shivering cold when the 

 thermometer stands about zero, or far below, in the hope of 

 having pleasure. At such seasons I ever find far more enjoy- 

 ment in sitting before a crackling fire of logs reading Scott, 

 or Shakespeare, or Burns, listening to the noisy glee of the 

 brats, as they boisterously gambol about the room, loading 

 shells for use on some pleasant sunny day, or talking to my 

 friends Teceel, Mud, Duffrey or Dit about what we have 

 done, or want to do, in the sporting field. Those who prefer 

 braving the crusty snow and its blinding glare may do so if 

 they choose. 



It happened, when I was a boy less than fifteen years of 

 age, that there lived near my father's residence a physician 

 whom at college bis schoolfellows called Bus. lie was raised 

 on the lower ('ape Fear, and took the degree of M. D. in the 

 city of Philadelphia, where he had often heard the jingle ol 

 the" sleigh-bells and seen the happy boys and girls in all the 

 eestaey of their fleet and smooth" careering over the level 

 streets. After his marriage with one of the loveliest daugh- 

 ters of Cumberland, he located for a while at Fayetteville, 

 and removed, in a year or two, to try his fortune as a coun- 

 try doctor in the section of country to which 1 refer. 

 Our disciple of Galen was said to be well read in his profes- 

 sion and skilled in the treatment of diseases, according to the 

 style of practice in that, day, lie was afflicted with a complaint 

 not unknown to his brethreu — and I say it with profound re- 

 spect — the use of many words of high-sounding character, 

 and not contained in the vocabulary of ordinary mortals. To 

 speak the truth, though he had read many books relating to 

 his art, he had not acquired by his intercourse with mankind 

 a very large share of what is usually called common sense. 



At an early hour one bright morning in the month of Janu- 

 ary, while my father's family were sitting in the piazza, 

 Which fronted south, looking at the "beautiful snow" which 

 had fallen the preceding morning, an unusual jingle of bells 

 saluted our ears, causing us to wonder from what source it 

 originated. But few seconds passed before we could see two 

 horses, one in front of the other, pidling at a rapid pace 

 something which, in the distance, looked like an old-fashioned 

 "ground sledge," and in it could be plainly seen two or three 

 persona, Nearer and nearer still they came up the lane, when 

 the strange vehicle slopped in front of the garden gale, and 

 the sonorous voice of the Doctor was heard, bidding the 

 .. a hearty good morning. My father invited the parly 

 to get out and take breakfast. After some little persuasion, 

 the invitation was accepted, and in came the Doctor, his good 

 wife, nurse and child, while Dave, the driver, unhitched bis 

 steeds, fastened Iheh) to the "rack," and made himself com- 

 fortable before I he kitchen fire. After the usual greetings, 

 my father inquired of the Doctor where he was going. 



""To Fayeitevilli i 



"How?" 



"Why, in the sleigh, sir." 



"Do you think you will ever get, there? You must recol- 

 lect that the distance is over sixty miles, and besides you 

 have many creeks to cros3, where there are no bridges." 



"No difficulty at all, sir. the snow is five inches deep all 

 the way, and I can cross the streams on the ice." 



"But, Doctor, how do you know that the snow T is so deep? 

 It does not follow that there is any at all in Cumberland, 

 and as to the ice, I beg to assure you that though I have 

 often crossed the streams in much colder weather than we 

 now have, I never knew them to be frozen over at all, much 

 less hard enough to bear the weight of a horse." 



"And do you think 1 will have difficulty. Mr. V" 



"Why, Doctor, I regard it as the most "preposterous idea I 

 ever heard of any man's entertaining." 



This word, "preposterous," was one of the Doctor's favor- 

 ites, and. at that time, was by far lite largest word which 

 had been used in that section. To my youthful mind, the 

 highest ambition 1 had was to learn enough to pour out such 

 tremendous so-called vehicles of thought" The quotation of 

 one of the Doctor's pet expressions rather dumbfounded him, 

 and brought forth a gentle hint from the good wife— for a 

 good woman, and a sensible one, she was then, and is now — 

 That it was not safe to make the venture, and they would act 



wisely to take Mr. 's suggestion, go home and get another 



mode oi conveyance. But the proud and headstrong dis- 

 ciple of Galen, fully convinced that a man who had been to 

 Philadelphia, knew far more of the weather characteristics 

 than all the country justices of the peace on earth, was bent 

 upon making the "experience just to show the extent of his 

 earthly knowledge. So, after "partaking of a warm substan- 

 tial breakfast, which my mother knew well enough bow to 

 prepare, especially soon after hog killing time," when the 

 smokehouse was full of tenderloins and sausage meat, and 

 spareribs, our visitors look their places in the rude sleigh, 

 Dave eiacked his whip, and the Doctor, elated with the 

 prospect ahead, waved his hand in adieu, until his tall form 

 was hidden by a descending hill. 



The probable catastrophe which was ahead of the Doctor 

 in bis new-fangled journey to Fayetteville was the subject of 

 frequent conversation, not only among our own family, but 

 others who had heard of the "bold and unusual adventure. 

 We had, at that day. but a weekly mail, aud though the 

 Fayetteville Observer came in about a week after our hero 

 and his family left us, the enterpriser,?) of the age had not 

 progressed so far as to state in the local columns the arrival 

 of parties in the town. More than a fortnight elapsed 

 when, late in the afternoon, a vehicle with a pair of horses 

 was seen rise the hill on the west side of Little River, turn at 

 the crossroads and approach the house. Pretty soon the 

 Doctor and his family got out, were kindly welcomed, and 

 accepted an invitation "to remain all night, though their borne 

 was only three miles off. After they were seated around the 

 fire, my father inquired as to the success of the trip. The 

 Doctor promptly replied: "Well, sir, it was rclly one of Hie 

 most preposterous undertakings a man of sense ever tried, 

 and I am astonished that 1 ever attempted it." The madam 

 then said, "Well, Butler" (she did not. call him Doctor), "you 

 had better let me tell it." To this suggestion he somewhat 

 reluctantly acceded, and she related that they got on pretty 

 well until "the afternoon, when they reached a brisk little creek;, 

 somewhat swollen by the snow, which had begun to melt 

 pretty rapidly. The Doctor assured her that though not frozen 

 over as he had expected, it was not exceeding ten incites deep, 

 and they could easily and safely venture to ford it. When 

 they reached the run of the stream, however, the sleigh was 

 flooded, and (he baggage, which was_ placed in the bottom, 

 became rather damp. She then inquired how he thought he 

 cotdd manage it at Quhiffle, a bold and deep stream in Cum- 

 berland, on whose banks dwelt old Daniel Love, whose home 

 I have heretofore described in these columns, and at which 

 they expected to find that comfortable entertainment for which 

 the place was well known. He replied that it was very shal- 

 low, and no fear need be entertained on that score. So pushing 

 ahead through the slush — for the snow had lost some of its 

 characteristics aud had almost returned to water — in about 

 an hour and a half they dragged up to its banks aud dis- 

 covered it was decidedly" "full."' The madam called on the 

 driver to halt, for she did not intend to hazard it. In rain 

 did the Doctor chide her for her needless apprehensions. 

 She got out, and with nurse and child, courageously took the 

 foot-log. The brave Doctor bade the driver go ahead, and he 

 would soon show his mistress how foolish she was. As the 

 sleigh progressed, the Doctor, who sat upright with his arms 

 folded, continued lo throw out his ehidings to his "better 

 half," until the cold tide caused him to elevate his 

 feet. Then the madam asked it he thought it was 

 deeper. To this her shivering spouse only told her that she 

 was foolish and he had reached the bed of the stream. But 

 lie miscalculated. A few more feet, and the entire sleigh 

 was submerged, aud the icy water had reached the arm-pits 

 of the now almost frozen traveler, and the bandboxes and 

 sacks and bundles floated out on the waters, which Dave 

 was obliged to wade in and recover as soon as the creek had 

 been crossed. Happily for the dripping »on of Galen, Love's 

 house was but a few hundred yards off. and the party were 

 soon sitting around a blazing fire of pine knots, and old 

 Uncle Daniel and Aunt Polly, his excellent wife, were hunt- 

 ing some clothes with which to wrap the tall form of the 

 sleigh-riding Doctor. Pretty soon he was fully rigged out. in 

 Uncle Daniel'.-, clothes— all liis wardrobe and that of his wife 

 were wet as Quhiffle water could make them — consisting of 

 a jean hunting shirt and pantaloons of the same material. 

 The old man was .5 feet. 10 inches high, while the Doctor 

 was (i feet 3, with legs and arms protruding far beyond 

 the limits of the clothes which he had donned, and made 

 him present, any other appearance than a proper advertise- 

 ment to a fashionable tailor. It took nearly all night, with 

 the aid of an unusual supply of lightwood knots, to dry their 

 apparel for the morrow's journey. Uncle Daniel had suc- 

 ceeded in bringing home a few minutes before the arrival of 

 his humid guests a fine deer, from whose loins some de- 

 licious steaks had been cut, and these, with Aunt Polly's 

 other viands and her famous Laguayr.-i coffee, restored 

 warmth and vigor to the frame of the Doctor, which had 

 been sorely tried by the unusual bath which he had taken. 



The snow was "melting all night aud next morning. 

 Uncle Daniel suggested that Butler had better take his cart, 

 aud perform in that Way the balance of the journey, for he 

 v> as sure his "sledge" would wear out before lie had proceeded 

 as much as ten miles. But the Doctor, whose woeful ex- 

 perience the da v before had taught but little, was determined 

 to "fight it out on that line, if it took ah winter." He left, 

 and before he had gotten ten miles, his vehicle was dragging 

 over the uncovcrcd"saiid, and soon was literally worn out. 

 They had to walk about three miles, and David was sent 



twenty miles to Fayetteville for a carriage, in which, in due 

 time, the adventurers finally arrived at their destination. 

 Alter her recital, during which the Doctor occasionally said 

 she was somewhat, coloring the matter, he declared that the 

 trip eould be safely made in a sleigh, and he was ambitious to 

 demonstrate if. 



The eccentric Doctor has been "gathered to his fathers. " 

 and so have nearly all the persons who figured in the sleigh 

 ride drama. But' the places indicated, and the memory of 

 the events narrated, still remain. The venison steaks at 

 Love's are one of the "memories of the past," but the same 

 wild, unsettled region is still there, and now and then some 

 skillful hunter can yet disturb the solitudes by the report ol 

 his gun, aud cheer his camp-fire with the product of his 

 skill. Wells, 



.JtocnuNOHAM, N. C, October, 1883. 



SHOOTING IN SWEDEN. 



r r , HE shooting in Sweden is all preserved and bloteeted. 



JL ft is guarded by law and closely watched by game 

 keepers. One may not shoulder his gun, whistle to his dog, 

 and hie afield to shoot, whatever good luck may brffig within 

 gun shot, as is our custom in great, new America. And 

 yet so great is the hospitality of the good people of Sweden, 

 that if an American visiting the Scandinavian peninsula, 

 only have proper letters of introduction, he will receive 

 more invitations to shoot over carefully guarded pre- 

 serves than he can possibly accept, and will be absolutely 

 overwhelmed with kindness wherevei he visits. 



On the evening of September 33 of this year of grace, 

 1883, my friend Judge Axel Carlson aud I drove through 

 the long idle, shaded by a double row of trees, entered the 

 portal, rattled across the paved court yard, and drew up at 

 the door of Wallen. 



Its owner, Theodor GyllenskOld, one of the royal cham- 

 berlains of Sweden, received us, servants took our baggage 

 and dogs, and led by Count Gyllenskold we passed through 

 a long corridor, paved with large blocks of stone, to the 

 guests' chambers. 



Bare old furniture adorned the rooms, the beds were fes- 

 tooned with masses of drapery, and curtains of rich lace were 

 gathered at the windows, or rather at the openi tigs which 

 led to the windows, for the massive stone, walls of Wallen 

 are six feet thick, and into an embrasure six feet deep I 

 walked, unbarred and threw open the heavy shutters of solid 

 oak, and Idokcd out upon the lake which glittered in the 

 moonlight, and whose wavelets kissed the castle w alls below. 

 Then came the sound of wooden shoes clattering over the 

 stones of the court yard, and the watchman of the castle 

 cried as he went his hourly round, " ■,, iioslagen" 



— "Now has the clock struck ten." 



Next morning we were afield at the comfortable hour of 

 nine. 



The gamekeeper accompanied us with a little red Irish 

 setter, Miss; pur dogs— a large English setter, Don; and a 

 fine-bred pointer, Beauty— quartered across the wide stubble 

 fields which stretched away on every hand, for the estate ot 

 Wallen comprises 25.000 acres, and over the whole of it we 

 were at liberty to roam with dog and gun. 



We tramped for an hour without sign of game; then, it] 

 the middle of a black, newly-plowed field Beauty and Miss 

 drew on step by slep toward a point, wdien up jumped a 

 great brown hare from under their noses. This was too 

 much for their training; away leaped the hare, and spite of 

 whistles, yells and protests away galloped the dogs after him. 

 At the end of the plowed ground the hare doubles. Now be- 

 comes leaping back toward me, and as the galloping proces- 

 sion of hare, pointer and setter sweeps past, 1 take a quick 

 sight, well ahead, and pull trigger. The hare turns a somer- 

 satdt and lies on his back, stone dead, riddled through with 

 Russian fsfo. 9 chilled shot, and within a second Beauty lias 

 him in her mouth and straining every muscle in neck, "back 

 and legs, the little silky pointer comes lugging him in. No 

 easy task, for the great brown captive weighs ten pounds 

 full", and, though the little dog holds high her jaws, both head 

 and legs of tie hare drag heavily on the ground. 



Beauty tugged so hard. 1 could see the curds of her neck 

 so tensely strained, and she wagged her tail and was so proud 

 of delivering this big booty into my baud that, although 1 

 had my whip out all ready to give tier the whipping she so 

 richly deserved for chasing a hare. I had not. the heart to 

 strike her a blow, so contented myself witli reproaching her 

 in a very doleful and stern tone of voice for her misdeed. 



Just beyond at the edge of a Swampy, bushy tongue of 

 land that "jutted out into the field, a COVej 

 tridges rose wild from Beauty's point, flew" to the foot of a 

 wooded hill and lit just in front of my comrades. 



Leaving this covey to my friends', 1 kept on. Inn few 

 momenls~"Beauty came to a point at a hedge-row. Up rose 

 a covey of twelve, but with such a clattering and chattering 

 that I was quite disconcerted, fired wildly into the flock and 

 missed both barrais. This covey flew back, and lit in the 

 swampy tongue of land. This piece contained about three 

 acres; underneath it was as swampy as a snipe bog, its sur- 

 face was covered with a thick growth of heather, and young 

 birches grew here and there, much as in a New England 

 woodcock cover. It was bard ground for partridge shoot- 

 ing, but, it had this one great advantage, in it the birds would 

 lie like stones. 



Into the cover I went, keeping Beauty well in band, and 

 hunting every foot of ground. The little dog settled down 

 to her work, and cautiously quartered the ground within 

 twenty yards of me. Point after point she made. Up 

 bustled the partridges, singly or in couples, under my very 

 feet. Sometimes 1 missed them, but sometimes 1 cut the 

 plump little fellows down, killed clean in mid-air. All the 

 while my companions were popping away on the wooded 

 hillside a few euu shots off. Now and again a bird they 

 had missed would light in the swamp to my great gratifica- 

 tion, while idl my birds that got away flew straight to my 

 friends. 



At the end of an hour I bad waded ihrough Hie bog. Six 

 brown plump partridges lay in my basket, a seventh bad 

 fallen dead in front of my companions, and bad been picked 

 up by them. Meanwhile they had bagged five partridges 

 aud a black cock, and we sat down to~luncb with a pretty 

 array of gamo spread out on I lie grass before us, 



In the afternoon we separated. I was unable to find the 

 covey I was sent in search of, andseeing the white 

 Walicn rising above the green trees, walked leisure 1 ., bach to 

 this hospitable home at 2 o'clock. My companions were 

 more fortunate. They returned at C, having found two 

 coveys and bagged eight partridges during the alternoon. 

 One 'hare, one black cock and tweui\ parti ■idges— a very 

 pretty bag they made hanging against the wall. 



We were soon clad in full dress, aud sat down to a dinner 



