Newspaper Page Text
54
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
J A C K DOBELL;
Or, A Boys Adventures in Texas.
A STORY FOR BOYS.
CHAPTER I.
TEXAS WAR OF INDEPENDENCE-ENLISTED AS
A VOLUNTEER—SETTING OUT-GOING DOWN
THE MISSISSIPPI—IN NEW ORLEANS-A NOR
THER IN THE GULF OF MEXICO.
the year 1835 the people
gfeaam of Texas threw off the
Mexican yoke, established
a provisional government,
and set np for an indepen
dent nation under the influence of
the colonists from the United
States. At that time there were
yft scarcely 30,000 from the United
States, all told, in the colony; and, al
though the Mexican government had
been steadily encroaching upon the rights
and privileges guaranteed the colonists
for several years, I hardly think they
would have rebelled against its authority,
if they had not counted largely upon get
ting; all the means and assistance that
might be required to carry out their re
volution successfully, from their friends
and brethren in the United States. In
this expectation they were not disap
pointed. Hundreds of young men from
every portion of the United States, armed
and equipped at their own expense, has
tened to the aid of the colonists, as soon
as the standard of independence was
raised.
Among others, a company was organ
ized for this purpose in the little village
in Kentucky where I was born and rear
ed, and although scarcely old enough for
a soldier, being only in my seventeenth
year, I determined to join it.
But it was no aspiration for military
fame that induced me to take this step.
Among the regular visitors at fath
er’s house, about this time, was an old
friend of his who had traveled over the
greater portion of Texas, and who after
wards held a position in the cabinet of
her first President; and insensibly an ar
dent longing sprang up in my bosom to
see for myself the “broad prairies,” the
“beautiful streams,” and the vast herds
of buffalo and wild horses, of which he
had so often given me a glowing descrip
tion. By joining this company of volun
teers, I thought an opportunity would be
afforded me of gratifying my desires that
perhaps might never again offer itself,
and so, in spite of the opposition of my
relatives and friends, my name was added
to the muster roll.
I purchased now a good rifle, with the
use of which I was already well acquaint-
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
i ed, shot pouch and powder horn, toma
j hawk and hunting knife; and thus equip
j ped, with my knapsack on my shoulders,
I “fell into ranks,” and amidst the wav
: ing of handkerchiefs, and the cheering of
j bystanders, we bid adieu to our native
| village, and started upon our long and
weary journey to the “promised land of
! Texas.”
It was in the latter part of November,
and, though not very cold, the snow lay
i some four or five inches deep upon the
ground, which retarded our traveling so
: much that we only made about twenty
miles by sun-down, when we halted for
the night upon one of the small streams
that empty into the famous Salt river.
We cleared away the snow from under
some trees, built up log heaps for fires,
and after preparing and eating our sup
per of hot coffee and fried middling, for
j which our tramp had given us excellent
appetites, we spread our blankets upon
! the leaves and turned in for the night.
The next morning we were upon the
road by the time the sun had fairly risen,
and about dusk, after a tiresome tramp
; through the snow and mud—for a thaw
had set in—we reached the city of L ,
and took up our quarters at the G
House. The next day, after purchasing
a supply of provisions, enough to last us
during the voyage, we embarked on the
steamer W , bound for the city of New
j Orleans.
Nothing worthy of note occurred on
the passage. Occasionally, by way of
varying the monotony of our daily life,
| we would go ashore when the boat land
| ed for wood or freight, and get up an im
! promptu shooting match, in which the
; skill and dexterity of our Kentucky rifle
; men were exhibited, greatly to tho aston
ishment of the “natives.” It was no un
usual thing for many of them to put three
balls out of five, off-hand, at the distance
of a hundred yards, into a paper no lar
ger than a silver dollar.
The second day of our voyage, we left
the snow and ice behind us, and on the
fourth we came to the region of Spanish
moss. The trees on both sides of the
river were draped in its long black fune
real folds, which, waving slowly back
wards and forwards in the breeze, were
| suggestive of anything but lively or plea
sant thoughts.
The next day we came to the “ coast,” a
strip of country so called, extending along
the Mississippi for more than a hundred
miles above the city of New Orleans, it
is protected from overflow by what are
termed “ levees,” a sort of earth-work
embankment thrown up on each side a
few paces back from the margin of the
river. These embankments, however, do
not always afford complete protection
during very high stages of the river. In
one place wo noticed where the water
had made a breach in the levee more than
a hundred feet in width, through which
it was rushing with the velocity of a mill
race, and in such quantities as already to
have inundated the country up and down
the river upon that side as far as the eye
could reach.
From the time we struck the “ coast,”
we experienced no more cold weather.
Everywhere the forests were still green,
and the orange and pomegranate trees
were bending down with the weight of
their luscious fruit. Here, too, we first
observed fields of sugar cane and cotton
plantations, in which gangs of negroes
were seen bearing huge baskets filled
with the snowy fleece, upon their woolly
heads.
The fifth day, about sundown, we
reached New Orleans, fortunately just in
time to secure our passage upon a schoon
er that was to sail the next day for Ve
lasco, a small port at the mouth of the
Brazos river.
In the morning, before the sailing of
the schooner, I had an opportunity of
seeing the city, of which you may be sure
I made the most I could do. The im
mense number of vessels moored in a long
line to the wharves—the puffing of steam
boats —the clatter of drays and carts—
the noise and bustle on the levee, and the
jargon of foreign tongues, were all calcu
lated to fill with astonishment and won
der the mind of a youth who had never
before been beyond the precincts of his
native village.
Towards noon, wo embarked with all
our goods and chattels on the schooner,
and having made fast to a towboat, in
company with two ships and a bark, we
got underway and bade farewell to the
Crescent City, whose tapering spires and
forest of masts soon faded away and were
lost in the distance.
From New Orleans to the mouth of the
Mississippi the scenery along the river is
dreary and monotonous in the extreme.
Low, swampy lands extended in an un
broken level as far as the eye could reach,
in some places entirely covered with wa
ter, in others with a rank luxuriant
growth of grass, amongst which cranes
and other aquatic birds of a hundred dif
ferent varieties could be seen silently
standing in rows, or solemnly stalking
about in search of the reptiles with which
it abounded. Along the shores immense
piles of drift wood were heaped up,
amongst which the black head of an alli
gator could occasionally be seen, which