Mat 39, 1897.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
423 
"We sat conversing under the orange trees untilTthe'first 
hours of the morning. Sweet zephyrs whispered, song- 
like, through the drooping branches of the willow trees, or 
sighed low and soft among the orange leaves. The alter- 
nating glow of cigarillos revealed, now and then, the dim 
outlines of a man's or woman's face, for the dark-eyed 
senoritas smoked as we'll as the men. The soft-spoken 
Spanish words drifted like low music notes on the quiet 
air until conversation lagged and yawning took its place. 
The old Von, noticing in us a desire to retire, finally led 
the way into the house, carrying my Winchester along 
with him. 
Owing to the conversation, I had not thought to exam- 
ine the Winchester after Jim bad finished showing it to 
the younger members of the family; therefore, when we 
had all entered the house, I came near jumping out of my 
boots as a blinding flash and deafening explosion filled 
the room. "Gar-r-r-rambaV gasped the old man, stagger- 
ing backward with his hands to his head, 
t Gathering my scattered senses as quickly as possible, I 
sprang to the old Don's side, and after a hurried examina- 
tion was relieved to find that he had suffered no injury. 
Il_ was a _narrow_ escape, however, as the bullet had sped by 
within 6in. of his head, and had made a hole through the 
roof as large as the muzzle of a 10-gauge shotgun. Jim, 
who was unused to a repeater, had unknowingly left a 
cartridge in the gun, and as the Don went to stand it in a 
corner of the room, the hammer came in contact with 
some article stored there, and the cartridge was exploded. 
I considered myself as much to blame as Jim, and it 
taught us both a lesson which we did not soon forget. 
In spite of our retiring so late, we were astir bright and 
early the next morning. After we had attended to the 
horses and had had some mate, we ate breakfast with the 
family, and were ready to start. 
I forgot to mention that Jim had with him a double- 
barreled, muzzle-loader of a well-known English make. 
With the exception of a break in the stock, that could be 
easily mended, this was an excellent gun. Not caring to 
carry it any further, and knowing that it would be very 
acceptable to our host, Jim presented it to him. The old 
man's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and hurrying into the 
house he soon reappeared with a Remington carbine and 
300 rounds of ammunition, which he insisted Jim should 
take. Although Jim protested strongly, the old man was 
so persistent in his urging that Jim finally accepted. It 
was with real regret that we shook hands with the mem- 
bers of this family and started on our way. 
[to be continued.] 
THET BOTTLE. 
Ajst ox team is a curious sight in our village, situated, as 
we are, in the rich cotton lands of the Tennessee valley; and 
the appearance of one upon our streets vies in interest for 
children and those of idle turn with the peripatetic bears 
and players that sometimes beguile them of their pennies 
and applause. We know that ox teams are common in the 
foothills of the mountains fifty milfs away; but we never 
see in harness anything less lordly than the mule, except at 
rare intervals, when some dweller of the hill?, painfully and 
slow, a four days' journey to and fro, comes down to barter 
wool or timber for simple luxuries or necessary bread-— a 
thing that seldom happens more than once or twice a year. 
A few days ago, about the middle of an April afternoon 
of most oppressive heat, I became aware of a crowd collect- 
ing before my office door, and on glancing out to ascertain 
the cause beheld a wagon and a "yoke of steers" surrounded 
by the village rabble, resting under the shade of a beneficent 
oak. The driver, a grizzled giant, red of face and fast ap- 
proaching age, was seated on his load of boards, and while 
he mopped the perspiration from his brow descanted volubly 
upon the decadence of the times, for the benefit of all who 
cared to listen, and perhaps to relieve the disappointment 
that he felt at finding no one who seemed to recognize the 
superior quality of his wares. I listened curiously : 
"Why mens, I tell yer, this uster to be Grod's kentry when 
I 'us er boy; but 'tai't so now. I've fetch down es fine er lot 
er bo'ds es ever was riv' on Sugar Creek, an' these dod- 
burned fellers won't even look at 'em ; an' thur hain't narry 
drap er licker in ther dum town. Fust time I've bin here 
in thirty year, an' ef I gits back home ergin, hits ther last 
dad-blame time yer ever see Ole Lem." 
I could but feel sorry for the old fellow, and being anxious 
to study him at close quarters, I called him into the office. 
"Yer wanter buy some bo'ds, mister?" 
"No, but I wish to talk with you. Come in and sit down. 
You have had a long trip and I know you are tired. While 
you rest tell me something of your home, and the game in 
the mountains behind you," I replied, and while my visitor 
was filling his pipe I dispatched upon a secret mission of 
comfort a boy, who soon returned with a bowl of crushed 
ice, some sugar and a decanter of "heartsease." How the 
old fellow's eyes sparkled at the sight! And I shall never 
forget the expression of gratified surprise that came over his 
face. 
"No, I don't wanter spile good liker 'ith sweet'nin'," he 
said, declining the sugar, "Er leetle ice an' er heep er 
whisky is ray dram." I passed him the decanter. He re- 
garded it critically for a little; his face grew grave, and 
then he asked, tremulously; "Boy, what mought yo' name 
be?" 
I told him, unsuspicious of the consequences. 
"Dod-burn ther leetle rooster!" he yelled, jumping to his 
feet and throwing his glass into the corner in his excitement, 
"I 'lowed I kno'd thet bottle. I've seed hit er hund'ed times 
—drunk out er hit 'fo' yer was born. I'me ole Lem Green — 
yo' daddy 'us ther best friend I had in ther worl', an' he died 
befo' Kichmon' in my arms. Why, dod-burn ther leetle 
rooster!" and wilhthis he grabbed me in a bear hug that was 
suffocating. I was powerless to extricate myself and had to 
submit until his longing was satisfied, and then he ex- 
plained : 
"I've thought er yer a thousan' times. Yo' ma went home 
ter her folks arter the war an' I 'lowed you never cum back 
er I'd er looked yer up long ergo. Yo' daddy wasn't much 
mo' 'n er boy when I fust kno'd 'im. He 'us er mighty man 
fur houn's an' uster cum up in ther hills ter run deer. Fust 
time I seen him I 'us out in ther woods one day huntin' I 
heard some houn's runin' an' purty soon er big buck come 
er sphttin' by me an' 1 jes dropped 'im in "is tracks. 'Bout 
er minit the dorgs 'us thar, an' whilst I 'us figh'in' 'em off yo' 
daddy rode up. He wus mad clean th'ough when he see'd 
ther buck, wus shot an' asked: 
" 'Did you shoot thet buck befo' my houn's?' 
" 'Yes, Buh/ I said, 'an' er mighty fine shot hit wus.' 
" 'Wal,' said he, 'no'man kin shoot deer befo' 'my dorgs. 
■You get er gun? 'Fend yo'se'f: I'me goin' ter shoot you.' 
Well, suh. he dun all 'is talkin' so quiet thet I didn' kno' he 
'us mad 'til' then, but I look'd up at 'im an' seed he sho 
meant hit.' 
" 'All right mister,' I said, 'gimme time ter load my gun.' 
" 'Go er head an' lode 'er,' said he, 'whilst I hitch my 
horse.' I rammed in the load an' wus just ready ter tell 'im 
ter step off ther groun', when I seed I'd lost my flint. I told 
'im 'bout hit, an' asked 'm to loan me one. Hia gun 'us new- 
fash'on an' shot-caps, so he didn't have er flint; but he cum 
an' helped me hunt in ther leaves fur mine. We didn't find 
hit, an' at last he asked me: 
" 'Hain't yer got er knife; we kin fight 'ith knives?' I felt 
in all my pockets, but I had left my" knife at home; so I 
offer'd ter fight 'im fls' an' skull. He said he hain't never 
fit thet way, but 'fo' I shu'd git erway from 'im he'd try me 
one time. 
"Wall, suh, we pulled off our coats an' went at hit. Iwus 
bull o' ther woods in thet kentry in them days, an' 'lowed I 
had er ea^sy job ter whun 'im, an' hit tuck me 'bout er hour ter 
find out I 'us wrong. We fit an' fit, an' then we'd clinch an' 
roll over an' claw; an' then we'd stop an' res', an' go at hit 
ergin. By 'n' by we 'us mighty nigh played out, an' 'us jes' 
lyin' thur hol'in' on ter each other, waitin' fur win', when 
thur idee struck me we 'us doin' er po' bus'ness enny how ; so 
I sed • 
" 'Cap'in, I'se durn sorry I shot yer deer, an' I reckin you 
is, too.' 
" 'Why in t)lazes didn' yer say thet at fust an' not hev 
ennv racket erbout hit? Who is yer, enny how?* he said. 
"I tole 'im; an' then we shuck ban's; an' es hit wus get'in' 
'long in thur shank er the evenin' T tuck 'im home with me 
to spend thur night. 
"My ole dad wus standin' at thur gate when we rode up. 
We 'us thet tore up an' bloody thet he didn' even know me 
'til I spoke up: 
_ " 'Dad, here's thur fust man T ever locked horns with thet 
did'n' bawl; an' I've fotch' 'im home ter patch up er bit.' 
" 'Did he whup yer, Lemuel?' the ole man asked kinder 
slow. 
" 'No. suh,' yo' daddy spoke up quick, 'an' ther'haint a 
man this side o' Jericho thet's ever gwine ter whup 'im; an' 
ef ther' ar' he's got ter whup me nex'. 
"Ther ole man wus tickled all over, but he just said; 
"Light, stranger, an' cum in; thet house wus mine, hit's 
yourn now long es yer want hit.' 
"Well, suh, frum thet day yo' daddy 'us my best fr'en', 
an' thur wa'n't any fall plum 'til thur war broke out thet he 
didn' cum up ter ther hills an' spen' er mont' 'ith me, er any 
summer thet I didn' cum down an' spen' er mont' 'ith 'im"; 
an' thet's how I knows thet bottle. 
"When ther South went out er ther Union the fust I kno'd 
er hit er nigger cum ridin' up ter my house one day, leaiin' 
ther fines' horse I ever see, an' he fotch a letter frum yo' 
daddy. I wa'n't much ban' at readin, 'out I kinder made 
hit out thet he'd bin 'pinted colonel an' 'us gwine ter the 
front, an' bed sent ther horse fur me ter ride, an' I mus' go 
'long 'ith 'im. 
"We didn' have no niggers, an' my ole daddy bed follered 
er the flag 'ith Ginral Scott the time he whupt ther greasers, 
an' I bed sumhow got ter love hit frum ther way he bed 
fotch me up. So me an' him sat thar thet night, an' talked 
ther letter over until plum dayUght; an' then 1 woke thet 
nigger ter saddle up ther horses whilst I tole ther folks good- 
by, for thar wa'nt no use takin', I was boun' ter go 'ith Billy, 
fur I loved 'im best of all. 
" 'Lem I've got yer 'lected cap'io, an'yo' cump'ny's waitin' 
fur yer,' was the fust thing Billy sed ter me when I rode up 
ter ther camp. 
" '1 hain't no soldier, Billy,' I told him, 'an' I hain't er 
goin' ter fight ther ole flag. She'll float furever, an' furever, 
an' furever, 'fo' I pull er trigger on 'er; but I'm gwine 
erlong 'ith you, an' ther day yer miss me frum yo' side yer'll 
fin' me somewhar when ther battle's over, an' ef yer's got 
ther time t^^r spare, sen' me home ter dad.' 
"He beg'd ontil he seed the talkin' wa'n't no use; I wa'n't 
er gwine ter shoot agin the stars an' stripes; but I slep' in 'is 
tent, an' stood by 'im in most er hundred fights; an' when 
they shot 'im down at Richmon' I fotch 'im home." 
Wheu old man Lem started back to the hills next morning 
"thet bottle" went with him. The wagon was empty and 
the bottle was full. - H. 
Alabasu, May, 1697. 
SOME INTELLIGENT BRUTES. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
After reading Mr. Thompson's excellent articles, also 
Mount Tom's and Aztec's humorous and highly entertaining 
contributions on this subject, I cannot refrain from giving 
some personal experiences. I do not mean any disparage- 
ment to the human race, when I assert most emphatically, 
that in my opinion some horses and dogs have more reason- 
ing power than some human beings. I believe that the 
intellects of animals arc bright and dull just as those of men 
are. You often hear the expression from stock traders: 
"That horse has lots of sense." Did you ever stop to think 
what was meant by that expression? If you have ever 
dealt in horses, or had any practical experience with them, 
you know that this is a fact. 
One example that came forcibly to my attention was in 
my own family. My father in-law owned a fine trotting- 
horse named Oscar. The horse was a regular pet, and 
would follow my wife's mother almost into the house for an 
apple or a lump of sugar. When that horse was hooked up 
for a drive, if my wife's father had hold of the reins he 
could hardly hold him in. Oscar would chafe under the bit 
and actually pull the entire drag by the lines. In passing 
another conveyance he would make a plunge, just as if he 
was getting off in a regular race. But let my wife's mother 
drive, with no one in tbe drag but her and the children, and 
the horse would jog along like an old cow, and had actually 
to be urged with the whip to make him go fast enough. 
Now if that was not reason I would like to know what you 
could call it. The horse thought he was doing the right 
thing in the right place, and he was. The horse was not 
afraid of his master, for he had never received a hck or a 
harsh word in his fife, and would nicker every time he saw 
him. 
When T was a small boy, and during the latter years of 
my adored father's stay on this earth, we owned a very 
handsome and unusually large Newfoundland dog. The 
dog had been sent to father from New York bv one of his 
friends. I well remember the day the little round black 
ball was taken out of a box at the express office. We boys-, 
three of us, and the dog grew ud companions, and would 
fight for each other at the drop of a hat. It was dangerous 
for any grown person or lai-ge boy to make one of us cry; 
as the dog would try to tear that person to pieces. We used 
to have lots of fun out of the dog at the swimming hole. A 
large deep creek ran through the farm, and the dog always 
accompanied ua on all of our excursions. We would go to 
the swimmine hole, which was at least 100yds. across and 
10ft. deep. We could all swim like "didappers," but we 
loved to tease tbe doaf; so one of us would swim out in the 
middle of the hole, throw up his hands, yell for help, and 
splash as if he was drowning. In the dojr would go and 
bring the boy out. Of course the boy would hold on to the 
dog's long hair, and the dog would swim out with him. 
Then we would pet the dog, and make much ado over him, 
and old Charlie thought he had actually saved one of us. 
It was two miles to the village and post-offlce. Just as 
rearular as the day arrived, my father would call Charlie, 
give him his basket and show him a paper. Charlie would 
trot off, go to town, and make straight for the meat shop. 
The butcher had a standing order for the day's meat, and 
would wrap it up and put it in Charlie's basket, then the 
butcher always rut another piece and gave it to the dog. 
Then Charlie would trot around to the post-offlce, and the 
postmaster would tie up our mail and papers in a package 
and deposit them in the basket. Then Charlie would come 
as straight home as his legs could carry him, and woe to the 
dog who dared to interfere. 
To this day it makes me shiver to think of how that dog' 
acted the night my father passed away from earthly cares. 
How that dog knew father was dying can never be known; 
but he certainly knew it. He kept up such a pitiful howl 
out in the barn where he had been shut un in the corn-crib, 
that we took him a quarter of a mile from the house and tied 
him to a tree. He gnawed the rope in two and beat us back 
to the house,' and was scratching at father's door when we 
arrived. . Father heard him, and asked that he be let in, 
which was done. Charlie crouched at the side of the bed 
and licked father's hand, and wept as bitterly as any member 
of that family. His whine was not the whine of pleasure, 
but of heartrending erief, and the dog showed it for days 
afterward ; as he moped about, and absolutely refused food 
or comfort. If Charlie had been loved during father's life- 
time, he was worshiped now, and there was not a dry eye in 
that family the day we dug a grave and buried the old dog 
in the orchard. 
I had a very precocious setter once, named Bijou. I 
raised her from a puppy, and called her by this name be- 
cause I considered her a regular jewel. She was a fine dog 
after birds, and the only dog I ever saw that would climb 
a tree. Don't laugh now, I do not mean a perpendicular 
tree, with no limbs within ten feet of the ground. But any 
leaning trpe or fruit tree with limbs within four feet of the 
ground she would go up like a cat. She would hook her 
fore-paws over the limb and pull herself up, and get the 
bird or ball, or whatever you had put up there that she was 
searching for. 
My wife's mother once owned a black and tan terrier 
named Gyp. It was desired to have Gyp's ears pointed 
and his tail cut off; so Mrs. Durando had the stable boy, 
Jim, do the work, and to the day of that dog's death he 
could never stand the sight of a negro. Jim, the mutilator, 
was a negro, and Gyp's bristles would go up if he smelled a; 
negro, to say nothing of seeing one. We have had lots of 
fun by having the colored cook or house girl come up behind 
Gyp while he was lying asleep on the rug. The nnoment 
the dog got a whiff of the person of color he would almost 
have a fit, he would get so mad. 
A friend of mine. Mr. William Cooke, of Chattanooga, 
owns a very fine pointer named Mack. Now when you go 
out after quail with Mack, he usually tells you hov? much 
he appreciates his being taken along, and some dogs can 
almost talk, to their masters especially. Why, I think that 
almost any man can see a dog laugh. They express their 
hilarity in the expression of the eyes, in the peculiar jerking 
in and out of the tongue, and in every wag of the tail. Well, 
Mack will sit beside the driver up on the seat of a buggy or 
wagon for miles, and never move until his master bids him 
go. If we are traveling through promising-looking country, 
you can see Mack raise his nose, look out over a field, then 
look his master just as straight in the eyes as he can, and 
ask him if he don't think we could find birds in there; but 
never offers to jump out or go until bidden. I have re- 
marked on this trait of the dog a dozen times in the many 
pleasant outings with my friend Cook. When we are out 
of the conveyance, and Mack is told to "go and find them," 
the first thing he does, after jumping into a field, is to make 
a complete circle of the field close to the fence, on the inside 
of the field. Do you know what the dog is up to? If you 
do not I will tell you. He does that first, to see whether 
any birds have run into or out of the field lately. If he 
finds no scent going in or out, then he quarters the field 
thoroughly, and hunts it out to see if any birds are in there 
at all or not. Now if this is not reason what do you caU it? 
Training would not make a dog do that trick. 
Again, how can a dog dream if he does not think and rea- 
son? I owned an old deerhound named Rock some years 
ago, and, to use common parlance, "it would make a dog 
laugh" to hear old Rock have the nightmare after he had 
come in from a chase after a deer, and got his old ribs filled 
out full of good scraps. 
The old fellow would lie on his back with his feet pawing 
up in the air, and he would run the whole race over again 
in his sleep. I have sat by the camp-fire and laughed at 
that old dog until my sides ached and the tears ran out of 
my eyes. 
One more incident and I will close. This black and tan 
terrier that belonged to my wife's people got old and very 
cross. One day the dog snapped at some one and lay down 
again in front of the fire and we all thought he was asleep. 
Mrs. Durando spoke to her husband and said: "Ed, I wish 
you would take Gyp down on the river bank this evening 
and shoot him, I am afraid he will bite some of the children 
and they will have hydrophobia." Immediately the dog got 
up, marched out of the room and we did not lay eyes on him 
for a week. Finally we found him down at my brother-in- 
law's store hiding under a desk. Now tell me if that dog 
did not understand what Mrs. Durando said about him, why 
should he have acted in that way? 
I once spent some months on a cotton plantation down m 
