cxl 
LIFE OF WILSON. 
fore him; I was covered with mire and wet, and I thought he 
looked somewhat serious at the difficulties he was about to en- 
gage. He has been very sick lately. About half an hour be- 
fore sunset, being within sight of the Indian’s where I intended 
to lodge, the evening being perfectly clear and calm, I laid the 
reins on my horse’s neck, to listen to a Mocking-bird, the 
first I had heard in the Western country, which, perched on 
the top of a dead tree before the door, was pouring out a tor- 
rent of melody. I think I never heard so excellent a performer. 
I had alighted, and was fastening my horse, when hearing the 
report of a rifle immediately beside me, I looked up and saw 
the poor Mocking-bird fluttering to the ground. One of the 
savages had marked his elevation, and barbarously shot him. 
I hastened over into the yard, and walking up to him, told 
him that was bad, very bad ! That this poor bird had come 
from a far distant country to sing to him, and that in return he 
had cruelly killed him. I told him the Great Spirit was of- 
fended at such cruelty, and that he would lose many a deer for 
doing so. The old Indian, father-in-law to the bird-killer, un- 
derstanding by the negro interpreter what I said, replied, that 
when these birds come singing and making a noise all day 
near the house, somebody will surely die — which is exactly 
what an old superstitious German, near Hampton in Virginia, 
once told me. This fellow had married the two eldest daugh- 
ters of the old Indian, and presented one of them with the bird 
he had killed. The next day I passed through the Chickasaw 
Big-town, which stands on the high open plain, that extends 
through their country, three or four miles in breadth, by fif- 
teen in length. Here and there you perceive little groups of 
miserable huts, formed of saplings, and plastered with mud and 
clay; about these are generally a few peach and plum trees. 
Many ruins of others stand scattered about, and I question 
whether there were twenty inhabited huts within the whole 
range of view. The ground was red with strawberries; and 
the boatmen were seen in straggling parties feasting on them. 
Now and then a solitary Indian, wrapt in his blanket, passed 
