FOREST AND STREAM 
647 
right under my head there arose a fear-inspiring 
cry. 
Henry at once jumped to his feet, and said: 
“Massa, that’s a wild cat. Now get your gun 
loaded quick; and I will open the door and you 
will have a chance to kill a dangerous varmint!” 
I followed his instructions, and stood prepared 
to let fly as soon as Henry opened the door. 
Parker also got up and stood gun in hand ready 
to give the coup de grace at the first opportu- 
mity. Henry pulled the door wide open; and 
thereupon in bounded a half-starved house cat, 
who had been left as the sole guardian of the 
domicile while its master, the sheriff, had gone 
to attend court. 
This was laughable enough; but we did not 
anticipate we should have any further visiters 
before our departure. But just at sunrise the 
mext morning, Henry called us, and said there 
was some one outside who wished to see us. I 
went to the door, and there found a man seated 
on horseback, with a long rifle in his hand, who 
at once made inquiry to know if I had seen any 
of his hogs around there. 
“Why, no!” said I, “we have not seen any.” 
“Well, I heard a gun fired about here last 
»ight, and thought there might be somebody 
around shooting my hogs, that -have been feed¬ 
ing in these parts: Have you seen any since 
you came?” 
. “We have seen no hogs,” said I, “but I fired 
my gun at an owl resting on the well-sweep last 
might; and that probbaly was the discharge you 
heard.” 
‘Well,” said he, “I guess it is all right,” but 
I was left in charge of this ranch by the sheriff 
in his absence.” 
I then informed the horseman, who said his 
name was Marshall, and that he lived two miles 
up the river, how we came to arrive at the 
sheriff’s, with which explanation he appeared 
perfectly satisfied; and invited us to stop at his 
plantation when we got to his landing, and he 
would be glad to show us around. This we 
promised to do; and on the following day we 
presented ourselves as we had agreed, and found 
Mr. Marshall to be a very pleasant man indeed. 
It seemed that Marshall raised over five thou¬ 
sand bushels of tomatoes, as one part of his 
•rops, and a great many pineapples, and acres 
•f sugar cane besides. We walked through 
fields of it under his guidance, and it grew much 
higher than our heads. 
After partaking of our morning’s cheer, the 
menu being limited to molasses, pickles and 
•rackers, we once more embarked to make our 
promised visit to our friend Marshall—and after 
a pleasant sail of half an hour we arrived at his 
plantation. As soon as we landed we were met 
by Marshall, who escorted us at once to his 
sugar-cane fields; and then conducted us to his 
garden, in which he raised five thousand bushels 
•f tomatoes per annum; but he did not market 
more than one-seventh part of them, on account 
of the excessive cost of freight, and the lack of 
regularity in the steamer’s landing. Also he had 
an abundance of pine-apples, which we were in- 
^ted to sample—and they certainly seemed to 
j •• to be most excellent. 
mess fought at the time of what a great busi¬ 
es tablisbl'ght be done by establishing a canning 
went on this estate, where in one year’s 
time under suitable management a fortune could 
be made. The lapse of a few years shows how 
time was my forecast; and if I had only gone 
down there and located, I might have been roll¬ 
ing in wealth on the Boulevard, instead of log 
rolling for political prominence at home. 
After Viewing the entire plantation, we heartily 
thanked Mr. Marshall, who loaded us down with 
pine-apples, oranges and a lot of sugar-cane; and 
setting sail, were soon on our way toward our 
prospective hunting ground. The wind was light, 
and the boat made slow headway against the 
current. I was reclining in the stern sheets, 
while Parker was forward, and Henry was steer¬ 
ing. All at once Henry whispered to me: “There 
is a flock of turkeys on the bank of the river, 
and they are coming this way.” 
I accordingly took my gun, and loaded it with 
an extra charge of powder and some large shot; 
and took my station forward, prepared to salute 
them as soon as occasion offered. The sail 
screened me from view, and I was trying to get 
sight on the head turkey; but for some time 
without success. When I finally did draw lead on 
her, I let go both barrels, and was knocked end 
over end into the stern sheets by the recoil of 
the gun—and the turkeys kept on their course 
unharmed. 
When I recovered myself and took a look at 
my powder-flask, I found that some one had 
turned up the charger to the highest point—and, 
as I had put in two charges instead of one, I 
had fired four times as great a load as ordinary. 
The recoil of the gun was accounted for; and 
my right hand was severely cut by the trigger- 
guard, so that I was forced to wear a glove for 
sometime afterward. 
Reloading as quick as possible, I again went 
forward—for the turkeys still kept in sight on 
the river bank—and was about to pull on the 
leader, when they all flew, and went across the 
river to the opposite side and disappeared up 
a branch. 
I ordered Henry to steer for the branch; 
and when we got there to cease rowing, and 
it might be that we should get another crack 
at them. These directions were followed, and 
I took my place on the deck forward, and 
exercised some watchful waiting, with a bright 
eye and a determined purpose- We had no 
sooner entered the mouth of the branch than 
I saw, perched on the limb of a water-oak, one 
of the turkeys, whose body did not afford a 
very good shot, the tail being pointed toward 
me; but I thought there was no time for de¬ 
lay, and again let fly, one barrel this time, and 
knocked the turkey from the limb into the 
branch. 
The bird fell dead into the water; and sculling 
the boat up, I leaned over the side and drew her 
on board. 
Then running the boat up to the bank, both 
George and Henry went on shore, George taking 
his gun, in hopes of catching sight of another 
bird. They had not been long absent when I 
heard the discharge of a gun, and was in hopes 
that George had also secured his bird. 
As I sat in the boat, all at once I heard the 
winnowing of wings; and looking behind, saw 
the old hen-turkey just alighting on the top of 
an oak across the branch. With the greatest 
care I withdrew my gun from the thwarts, and 
slowly, very slowly, turned myself around, and 
drew lead on the mother of the flock. She fell 
from the tree, and striking the water, moved 
slightly around, and then lay still upon the sur¬ 
face. 
I sat quietly for some time, awaiting the com¬ 
ing of George and Henry; for I felt certain that 
Henry could call those turkeys within shot, and 
he did so, giving George his chance to secure 
one; but George missed the shot in his excite¬ 
ment, and the rest of the flock scurried from 
sight in the intricacies of the swamp, and were 
seen no more. 
Soon George and Wiggins—whom I have here¬ 
tofore called Henry—returned but downcast at 
their ill-luck. I was sorry that George did not 
secure his game; but felt that I had done pass¬ 
ably well, and was lucky that I had not got my 
head blown off when I first discharged my gun. 
George and Wiggins getting on board, we then 
resumed our way down the stream, and kept on 
our course till night-fall, and soon after arrived 
at our shelter in the sheriff’s premises. 
The next morning it was our intention to have 
turkey for breakfast, which Wiggins was to 
prepare for us. Meantime George went down 
to the river bank for his morning ablutions; 
and, as I was about to follow him, I saw Wig¬ 
gins at work, slicing up the breast of the turkey, 
and putting the slices carefully into the frying- 
pan; and the turkey appeared so tempting, I at 
once went for George and brought him back in 
time for a hearty repast. 
After finishing the turkey we again set sail, 
and started for Lake Harney. We arrived 
there in the afternoon, and found that the house 
located there was open to the weather and un¬ 
tenanted. We accordingly proceeded to collect 
some light wood, and soon had a roaring fire to 
keep us comfortable. 
I took a stroll around the immediate sur¬ 
roundings, and came upon a number of wood¬ 
cocks and snipe—one or two of which I suc¬ 
ceeded in getting. 
The following morning we proceeded up “Deep 
Creek” and “Cow Creek” for turkeys, but saw 
none. We secured however one duck—and at a 
shallow lagoon I shot a red bird for preservation. 
Then I got a chance at a flock of ducks, and 
knocked feathers out of a dozen and secured two. 
Then we proceeded down the river, seeing 
alligators on the bank now and then—into one 
of which I put some buck shot and secured him, 
fortunately hitting him in the eye. 
We arrived back at Alexander’s in the after¬ 
noon, and went out for turkeys, but found none 
There were plenty of mussels however in great 
flocks; and I shot a number of quail, which 
were as tame as chickens. It was hard work to 
flush them, and I don’t think they had ever been 
shot at. 
A splendid bald-headed eagle looked on at my 
proceedings from the top of a lofty cypress, and 
after satisfying his curiosity, flew away into the 
empyrean until he was lost to sight. 
THE FLIGHT. 
Against the moon the crows fly fast, 
On their South-trail through the sky. 
With steady speed and joyous faith 
The crows fly high. 
The clinging mists are in the vale; 
The view from the hill grows gray; 
And the West is clouding inky black, 
Where the pink clouds used to play. 
But the moon grows bright as it rises 
With radiance into the sky. 
And against it, into the darkness. 
The crows fly high. 
Evening Post. 
