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Entered according to Act of Congress, in June, 1868. by J. W. Burkk & Cos., in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the So. District of Georgia.
VOL. 11.
LITTLE BIRDIE.
OME, come, little birdie, have
something to eat ;
'|L!OUI And won’t you have socks for your
little bare feet ?”
Said the birdie, “Oh, no,
I don’t mind the snow ;
Q, God clothes me you know.”
“ Coine, come, little birdie, and live at my
home,
In a snug little cage you shall call all your
own.”
Said the birdie, “Oh, no,
I must be on the go,
With my wmgs, you know.”
So birdie flew off to a neighboring tree,
And as loud as he could, sang, “Chick-a-dce
dee!”
Dear God is our Father and takes care of me.”
Little birdie, good day ;
When you go astray,
Come around this way.
Child's Paper.
-
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
S A L-0- Q U A;
OR,
Boy-Life Among the Indians,
BY REV. F. R. GOULDIXG,
Author of “ Young Morooners,” “ Marooner's
Inland,'’ etc.
CHAPTER 111.
PIN EY -WOODS SCENES.
-
l A It HE two preceding chapters
record my recollections of fifty
p* years ago. Oh how far back
that seems! The dim blue of distance
is around it. It appears to reach almost
to the days of Adam.
And is it possible that fifty years have
passed since then ? I can scarcely be
lieve it; for when I was a child, that
length of time looked like a small eter
nity, yet the incidents I have described
are fresh as yesterday. Ah! I under
stand it now. It is because “when I
was a child I thought as a child, I spake
as a child, I understood as a child;”
but childhood is mistaken in its estimate
of time. Fifty years is not much, ex
cept in a child’s conception. It looks
large because life itself is so little. And
it looks large only when coming; after
it has past it crumples in the grasp, like
a dried leaf, to almost nothing.
MACON, GEORGIA, JANUARY 16, 1869.
The year 1817 was long remembered
upon our seaboard for its unhealthiness.
In many neighborhoods there were not
well peopleenough left to wait upon the
sick.
Baisden’s Bluff suffered as little pro
baoly as any other place within the in
fected belt; yet every member of our
own family was seriously sick, and one
was carried to the grave. My father,
born and bred in England, and unac
customed to our fierce diseases, was so
disgusted with this rough handling that
he resolved never again to expose him
self or family to a similar experience.
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He had prospered in business; he was
able at any time to retire comfortably
from its cares and he resolved to do so.
Before the spring of the following
year had quite ended —it was in the
month of May—he left Darien and the
Bluff, with his whole family, on a tour
of travel to the hill country of the in
terior. He had no definite plan, except
to see the country, enjoy health, and
look out some place of future abode.
Although an earnestly pious man, and
ready at all times to do what a layman
might to advance the cause of religion,
there was no one who enjoyed more
keenly than he the wild sports of wood
and water. He was a capital shot, and
a first-rate angler. With these tastes it
may be conjectured that his equipments
for four or five months vacation from
labor would correspond.
Our company consisted of ten persons,
viz., my father and mother, and their
four children; a Mr. Jamieson (my
father’s retainer, companion, shadow,)
and three servants, Quash, the carriage
driver, Scipio, a boy of sixteen, and
my mother’s waiting maid. To accom
modate these, there was a close carriage;
a light carry-all with moveable top ; and
a large two horse w’agon, loaded with
tent equipage. Trotting beside us were
two dogs, Medor, a staunch pointer, that
understood how to raise wild turkeys,
us well as to point smaller game; and
Selkirk, an intelligent cur, trained to
still-hunt deer, and even to trail a pan
ther or a bear. There were four guns
aboard, a rifle and two double-barrels,
one for birds and the other for deer, be
side a single-barrel for Scipio, and sev
eral fishing-rods, in joints, with tackle
to suit.
The tour was delightful and full of
variety ; though I recollect little of it,
except such incidents as might impress
the mind of a child.
On the third day out from Savannah,
while we were noticing the coarse and
almost gravelly sand thrown up by the
wheels, so different from that to which
we had been accustomed, a man on foot
suddenly emerged from a side-path. He
carried a rifle, was followed by a dog,
wore a ’coonskin cap, and was clad in
garments of deer leather. His easy
gait, weather-beaten look, and inde
pendent air, all indicated the hunter.
His dog and ours on coming together,
with tails erect, first gave a growl, then
stood side by side, with bristling back,
and soon after engaged in a fight, from
which it was difficult to part them. As
soon as all was quiet, my father asked
the man if the hunting and fishing of
that neighborhood were good, remark
ing that he had just seen fresh deer
tracks crossing the road.
“Whar?” asked the hunter, with a
sudden movement to go, without having
answered the question.
“About half a mile below,” my father
replied, “and there must have been an
uncommonly large buck in company, if
there is any truth in the size of a track.”
“ Oh es ole Big-foot is there, I needn’t
go,” the man rejoined, groundihg his
roughly stocked piece, and grasping it
for support near the muzzle.
“Why not?” my father enquired,
“old big-foot as you call him seems to
me worth getting.”
“ He’s all that, and more too,” the
other replied ; “ but thurs no gittin ’im.
He’s such a fellow for gittin into people’s
fields and gittin out agin without gittin
hurt, that many people believe he’s be
witched. More’n a dozen planters hev
offered a dollar to whoever will bring
ole big foot’s huffs ; and lie’s been shot
at a hundred times, with rifle and
smooth-bore, and ball and buckshot,
and even with silver ; but thurs been no
gittin’ him yet; and I don’t believe
thur’ll be any gittin’ liirti tell his time
conies. 0 no! stranger, I am notgwine
to waste my time and bullets on ole
Big-foot.”
“ But are there not plenty of deer in
the neigborhood besides him?” my
father asked.
No. 29.