Augusta Washingtonian. (Augusta, Ga.) 1843-1845, February 10, 1844, Image 1

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V r 4® 'w3fe®p<*^£jE>^Srfu§p 4b \ft«Pi § ■ 7H.. - ... 9^^^^^^^^^HbM4MMHb WVV VVVA'VWX VWXVWA .*«wx\ ■ -V X VW\ VW V'W\VW\WV\VWAV\V> VW\W\VWWV\VW\W^> W W»\W\\WXV WXVV X VV V X W V>VVV<VW V WW X W>\ W iW\VV\AVVVMA.V\LW\A vtv\\.\vtA^%^^ vv^^)Vl . wv%vlrlJt . UA . t o SDfrsMi)(brsr to ©pmupopaitnnnr, ■ 4 . :3fck. __. . . _ V. .. 1 ■ Yol. II No. T?» I 1 rive gg?asht«gtonwß^|j ■ U BE PUBLISHED EVERY sß#4] MORXING, BY J AMES Mel VEE ERT V, W EAt the low price of one dollar per annjMWr [ a single subscriber, five dollars for a (Tab of NB 8 ; X) or ten dollars for a club of twelve sub scribers — payment, in advance. rll Communications, by mail, addressed to the publisher, mu3t be post paid to receive atten tion. By the rules of the Post-Office Depart- J ment. Post masters may frank subscription If money for Newspapers. W Advertisements will be inserted at the follow ing reduced rates: -For one square, not rx (H ceeding twelve lines. 50 cents for the first; insertion, and twenty-five cents for each con-j tinuince, if published weekly; if semi-monthly 374; and if monthly 43 j cents, for each con tinuance. »| "yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount. ft ii i - J? o\©'sici)LTajjJi. a rlmprovement hi selecting Seed-Wheit. In the selection of sced-tvheat, take at fijeast six bushels of good quality, then take * a seive or screen with holes sufficiently large, so that five bushels of the six will « pass through it. The one bushel that re jfe mains wall be kernels of the largest size, ■-and this should he u«ed for seed. When ■ this seed is sown and germinates, it will ■be found that the blades which spring ■ liSBBi it will he uniform, and present the 1 same healthy appearance, and will main 1 tain the same equality until the time o( K harvesting. Thus instead of having so K great a portion of small, weakly stocks ■ start from diseased or pinched kernels. ■ which can never produce any thing hut ■ ania!) straw and consi-qiienlly wheat of ; I an inferior quality, the whole will stand a pfhtr chance to come to maturity, divested ■ of mam evils which attend the sowing a ofgrain where silting is neglected, ft Ru '- says the reader, this important dis §fiw?m ot which you speak, don't amount K to afiy thing after all. it has been I known for years, that to sift out the small ip .g^iins from seed-wheat is a good idea, Ptind if is now generally practised among l our best farmers. 1 will respectfully ask * such, have you ever known sifting car ried to theextent 1 propose ? If you have not, you know hut little of the real bene fits that will result from this discovery *nd practice in accordance with its rea sonable theory. yB I atn informed that Isaac Bowles, Esq., of this town, tried the experiment the gfist season, and the result was what we had good reason to expect, the most per il feet growth of wheat he lias ever raised. I I believe if this practice should be adopted generally by the farmers of this state, the quality and quantity of the wheat crop * would in a very few years be increased , one-quarter by the simple process ofsift- P ingseed in the proportion 1 have named, ■ and no farmer need be afraid of injuring [ his seed by carrying the principle to too ' great an extreme. The improvement is within the reach of every farmer, and he j can satisfy himself on this point.-— Maine [ Farmer. f From the Michigan Farmer. Important Facts for Farmers. Mr. Editor: —l wish to make known' I through your paper some facts which I J think will be of some service to the farm ft ers. Atnasa Andrews, Esq. of this town, | harvested sixty acres of wheat, this sea son, while it was so green and unripe, that every farmer in the neighborhood thought and did not hesitate to declare him mad. | H e commenced cutting it ten days before : any others had begun. The berry, when I cut, was soft, and in that state as being in I the “milk.” He has now threshed it; I and, being.somewhat curious to learn the I result of so novel a proceeding, I to-day I went, in company with Mr. Andrews, to! J the mill and examined the wheat, and , j found it plump, with a peculiar transpa- , I rency of the berry which I never before; I saw—which is to be attributed to the I very thin coating of the bran. We weigh- | ed some, and found it weighed just sixty- ’ three pounds to the measured bushel; and ( the experienced one informed me that it I made more Jlour and less bran than any ( wheat he ever saw. 1 Now the above facts are worth know i ing, from several considerations. By 1 a* tutting sqpirlv no■ .wheat is shelled and Hkt, and the harvesting season can be |Bgthencd out, so as not to make it ne jjfllbry to work so hard or produce a PPpcity of hands; besides, the wheat is . beyond a doubt better and will make more and better flour. Yours, truly, N. B. Eldridge, m. d. Green Corn-stalks make rich Butter. — At a late meeting of the Farmers’ Club in New York, Mr. Morris, of Morrisiana, stated that he kept a dairy of one hun dred and twenty-six cows to supply the New-York market with milk. That he deeds them on green corn—he sows his (corn broadcast—and says it makes better ind richer milk than any other feed he i has used, and there can he no doubt that it produces more provender, by the use than any other vegetable. Mr. Morris’ I plan coincides exactly with our notion. So much saccharine matter as corn-stalks yield, must make rich inilk.— [Farmers' Gazette. A TEXIAN SKETCH. A few hundred yards from the Inst = !straggling wooden frame buildings which • form the greater portion of the houses in I the city of Galveston, republic of Texas. there is on the edge of the water a hard , and level spot, which is continually cho | sen as the theatre of those wondrous . shooting matches of which our transat lantic neighbors are so proud, and in i which they so pre-eminently excel. The ] fictitious deeds of La Longue Carabine, . and the better authenticated records of Colonel Crocket’s feats with his “Old . Betsy,” are on such occasions often ( equalled ; and my curiosity always cx , cited on this subject, I could not refuse * one evening in May last to be present at lan exhibition of this nature which had ! (been announced. The prize for the best f shot was an American rifle, very hand i some and expensive, and the admission I fee paid by the aspirants was fifty cents, r The spot selected was close to a grog shop—a house by far too much patron . ized by ail good Texans. The evening t was delicious, not the slightest breath of i wind was stirring, and the moon, which | was just about to set, revealed a striking , and animated scene. The competitors r for the prize were chiefly hunters, who i had flocked “down country” for the pur - pose; each man had his rifle, the greater (number a coon skin hag, from which was . suspended a large knife, and a charge or r measure for powder hollowed out of an . alligator’s tooth; a favorite article with all your true backwoodsmen. Their , dress was chiefly formed from buckskin, fashioned by their own rude hands. In (company with the crowds of looker on, . they dispersed themselves in different igroups aliout the place, some lying down, I iothers standing, and indulging, lor the ■; the most part, in the same topic of con ijversation. A plain deal board, with a I white spot about the size of a crown . piece, surrounded by alternate circles of , white and black, stood up at some dis tance: this was the mark. Impatient for i the work to commence, I made a remark sto that effect to a bystander. He pointed s to the moon, which had almost disappear : ed, and remarked that they but waited for I the darkness to begin ; he further added, jthat the occurrence of the slightest breeze would occasion the postponement of the (match. ; A few minutes elapsed, and not a ray II of Luna’s borrowed light was to be seen. Instantly all was life and animation.— Candles were called for and it appeared that the business of the evening was about to commence. The distance deci ded on was sixty yards. I pressed near to the hunters, and gazed with unfeigned curiosity upon the event. Two candles were now placed in a position as to throw a clear light upon the target, while two more were held near the sight of each rifle. It was the first time I had : 'seen so curious an exhibition, and I was < infinitely interested. The competitors in (the match were twenty-six* and several ; who made the first essay were successful i I only in part, hitting one of the outer cir- i ;cles. Presently two hunters stepped for. r ward, a Virginian and a young Georgian, c both leather-stockings, who from child- \ hood had been accustomed to use the rifle, f The Virginian was of that huge and pon- i derous make which strikes more from the t bulk than the proportion, while the young s Georgian, tall, thin and wiry—a thing of t bone and muscle—had yet that tender, r almost feminine appearance peculiar to t his countrymen. The Virginian fired, j AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1844. I and planted his ball in the very centre of,.< the target; the living lane of spectators, which extended not more than four feet I wide to the very target, was loud in its s : applause. j “ Bill will do as much, I reckon.” said j the young Georgian, advancing with his < gun on his shoulder, which was careless- > ly thrown off and discharged the moment I 'it became horizontal. The welkin rang i 1 with loud applause as it was announced I ' that the Virginian’s hall had been flatten- ( ' ed. Various other competitors came for- 1 ‘ ward; hut after considerable waste ofii “ powder, it was decided that the affair j; ’ rested entirely between the two hunters. I Tho wooden target was now cleared i away, and preparations made to decide ’ 1 between the relative skill ofthc Georgian I ; and Virginian by other means. At a distance of sixty.five yards, a candle was ■ put up, and the hunters were to satisfy i ' the owner of the rifle as to which of them he should assign it, by snuffing the| light presented to them, without in the ‘ most trifling manner grazing the wax with their halls. The Virginian made the first trial, put the light out, hut carri (ed away the candle. Another candle; j being set up, the Georgian stepped for-( ) I ward, took careful and deliberate aim,! land fired; the candle was snuffed, while j the wax remained untouched. Bill, the( Georgian hunter, was accordingly pro-i claimed the victor. “ I reckon he’s a smart shot that,” oh. , served a bystander ; “ and I guess the In > gins don’t like him. When Bill stole a mate from the Wacco’s, that ere shoot- I ing iron did him lively service, I calcu j late.” ) My curiosity being excited, I contrived . to get into conversation with Bill ; and > finding he did not intend remaining in I town, but to proceed at once to his crib ] ns he called it, I proposed he should pass! I with me on board the Archer, obtain a - supply of powder, hall, and percussion i caps, and then I would be ready to ac-; . company him. It happened, however, r that Bill had a few lines to me from a . certain Dr. Worcester, requesting that 1 r would replenish his horn and ’coon skin f hag, and accordingly the meeting was; i opportune on both sides. Escaping from r tlio noisy clamors of the crowd, who were j j too intent on their indulgences to notice j > the disappearance of Bill, we sought the! 1 . shore, where I found a small, neat, and - elegant Indian canoe, into which we > stepped. The craft had with us both al ■ most its load, as its frale gunwale was not i i three inches out of water. Bill sat in the i i stern, lin the centre. Much caution is I • required in navigating those boats, as any - , unusual inclination on one side would be i sure to capsize them. We reached, how , ever, the brig Archer in safety. I took I ; my rifle, and gave Bill his powder and I , shot; and we once more started in the I ! direction of Deer Island, eight miles I down between the main land and the s l island of Galveston. Nothing could have I been more picturesque. The night was 1 dark, and we kept close in shore, to be i • guided by the different landmarks which s were familiar to tho hunter’s eye; my companion, however, occupied the great- ] | er part of my attention as he sat upright , in the sternsheets, using his single paddle ( now on one side, now upon another with f , singular dexterity. I very shortly drew ; : the conversation to the topic which in- j terested me, namely, his stealing awav t the Wacco girl; anil, in the most frank ( and unhesitating manner, he told his ( story, which I shall relate for the benefit f of my readers, only premising that I am t compelled to abandon his own rich jar- c gon, which was so interlarded with quaint Yankee phrases as to be unintelligible r to all save the initiated. t “ I was hunting up country some eigh- i teen months ago—to begin at the begin- i ning—and one night, tired and maybe i lazy, wandered into the village of the c Wacco Indians, which you say you have seen on Dick’s Creek/ I was well re ceived, had a spare tent assigned me, (smoked the pipe with them, and passed the night in telling of hunting scrapes, or in hearing them, I did’nt care much which. Well, that passed, and the next, and the third evening came, and still I did’nt go, which .was a very unusual waste of time on my part, who never be fore missed a day’s hunting, except it were for a frolic, or that I was sick. But there was no frolic here, and I was’nt sick. No; it was’nt that at all. But on the morning after my arrival, I strolled rather early into the sweet potato field behind the village, and there found a young Indian girl at work. Well, I had : I seen many and many an Indian girl be | fore, but none like this one. She was beautiful beyond all description, and not more than eighteen ; and when I spoke a few words to her, my heart went pit a pat, just for all the world like the tail of an old ’possum wagging about. A week went by, and stiil I was’nt gone. Some how or other I could’nt get away, and every morning found me in the field be jhind the village, until i thought the In dians would spoil my beauty by taking Imy scalp. Well, one morning I picked up courage, and tells the girl plump and (plain I wanted to have a long talk with her that evening in a place I mentioned,j about a quarter of a mile from the village. ( The young Wacco looked up, opened! her large round eyes, and seemed to read 1 my very soul. I suppose she liked the j picture, for she hung down her head, 1 blushed slightly, and said, “White man,! your sister will be there !” I don’t know what I said in reply, butj ,I soon walked away; and entering the village, shouldered my rifle, hade adieu | to the warriors, and was soon lost in the woods. llow I spent that day I won’t tire you by telling, but it aint in reason ifo think I spent it without use; and about (nightfall I found myself seated on an old log, which gave a full view of the creek at a distance of a hundred yards, and was particularly well fitted for which I had (chosen it. I knew the spot well, because it was close to a spring, and that’s why I was sure the young Wacco girl would he able to find it out. At the time agreed on she stood before me, and asked in a somewhat sad and plaintive tone what her white brother had to say. Now, do you see, I felt a little skearv like ; some how or other I thought I would have rather faced a panther just then, but, plucking up courage, I told her my wig wam was empty, that I was very anxious (to find a mate; that, white or Indian, I had never seen one who took mv fancy dike she had done, and concluded, altera (speech as long as Sam Houston’s last i message to congress, hv tfdling her 1 would take her awav at once if she were I willing, and marry her according to our customs. The Indian girl heard me in silence, standing upright before me; she would not sit down, and at length said, I “ Yonder green leaf will not he yellow (ere my Reed-that-bends will claim his bride. And shall I leave him for one of the pale faces ?” Here was just what I wanted, a little opposition ; and she had no sooner spoken than, seizing her hand, I forced her to s : t beside me, and poured out a stream of soft sawder which human natur’ could’nt stand. I told her all I would do for her; 1 did not hesitate to say I was as good a hunter as four Bending-reeds, promised her ’coon skins, squirrels’ fur, and every thing else in abundance to her cabin, and i finally drew a most lively picture of my i sorrow if she refused to be mine, i don’t : think General Jackson or Martin Van Buren ever came up to me in speechify ing, and at last she said, “I believe the son ofthc pale faces: your sister will go.” : I won’t tell all I thought just then. Perhaps you’ll say it was ungrateful in me trying to take away a beloved daugh ter. But remember the drudging, hea thenish fate of these Indian women, and bear in mind that true love don’t calcu late very nicely. My chief feeling at the time was how we should both get off to the white man’s country. Plucking up courage, I told my bride she should never have occasion to repent her choice, but ; to rise and follow me, and I would con- i duct her to my wigwam, out of reach of her relatives, who would certainly take ; my scalp if they could for stealing away i the chosen mate ofßeed-that-bends. My i wife, for I will call her so, hesitated a i moment; a sort of sad and mournful i moan escaped her; perhaps she thought i of her old father and mother, and she was i right; it was, however, hut for an instant, after which she rose and followed me.— Moored to a hickory tree was a pretty good sized boat, which I had borrowed for tho occasion, and into this we stepped. She sat down aft, I took the oars, and it was a caution how I pulled ? I ploughed up the water a trifle, I believe I did; ma king for tho mouth of the river, whence I meant to cross the bay. The boat was mighty heavy for one man; hut then, when out of the wood, I could sail.— About an hour passed, and the quick and measured sweep of many an oar told me we were pursued; I expected it. The young Wacco pricked up her ears like a doe that smells powder, and taking her seat on one of the thwarts, soon whisked [One Dollar a Year. the old cutter along half as quick again as ; it went before. I did’nt think I ever saw her look so beautiful before or since as she did then ; certain I am, I felt I could lose my life for her. Still, however, the canoe behind us was corning up, and pre sently, just as we were about to turn a corner, after pulling through a long reach, I saw it, w ith a pow’er of red skins, pad dling and whooping with all their might. Very soon, however, we came upon the open prairie; no trees kept off the wind which blew in our roar, and pretty stifflv jtoo, and when my three sails of light duck w’ere hoisted, it was just about as much ns she could carry. She walked along ithen in beautiful style, I steering her , with every caution, and my bride man 'ageing the foresheet and jibsheet, as the wind of the river compelled me some ■ i times to scud, sometimes to haul up close i|on a wind, then to jib, and so on. Still |the varmint were coming up close behind I ius, almost w ithin two gun-shot, and I >jsaw that matters were coming to a sort i ot finish, which made me look at my per .•! mission caps, when suddenly I came upon ! young Jim Rock, looking out tor ducks i along the creek. To jam my boat in among a lot of reeds, to take Jim on ] board and start again was the work of ; half a minute. You know Jim, sir? he’s s a mighty smart young hunter.” 1 I expressed my assent, and he continu ■ ed. [ “Well, in less than no time, young ; Rock understood how it was, and vowed I ii it came to a tight squeeze he’d help t me through, as far as alriendly shot or so t| would help me; and away we flew, the y wind increasing a trifle as we neared the • bay. But reef I would’nt; Jim standing : by the foresheets, I holding on to the , mainsheet and tiller, and Oneida, that • was her name, sitting motionless in the i bottom of the boat. “ ‘Reed-that-bends,’ said she at length, | has taken many white man scalps; he is behind ; the pale face must hasten, or ; his blood will tinge the water.’ I I “ Oneida was right. We were now in ■ a long reach, which promised a steady ' course; belaying, therefore, the sheets 1 to their several cleats, and giving the ! helm to the young Wacco, I and Rock prepared our rifles, though I was not without a hope of being spared a conflict ; with my future kinsmen. Presently the crack of several rifles, followed by the whizzing of balls around us, told that the Indians were determined to do their best, and we accordingly peppered away. I contrived to hit one of the paddles, thus lessening the rapidity of the progress of the canoe. We were now near Ed ward’s Bay, and presently entering it, the wind was almost too much for us, but I cracked on, and presently had the pleas ure of rounding Edward’s Point, outside of which I found Ur. Worcester, his man Steven, and two others, fishing under shelter of the promontory. Young Rock joined them, they all promising to keep the Indians from following us. It was a beautiful moonlight night, almost as light as day, and by morning I got down to Galveston, where that very day I went before the mayor, paid my two dollars, and was married in due form. So here is Deer Island, and you shall tell me if I did wrong.” Deer Island is a small flat spot, re markable only for the very high state of cultivation into which it has been brought by a Mr. Williams, assisted by Bill, who dwelt there in a little humble log-hut; ample, however, in its dimensions, if wo consider thq wants of the owners. On visiting this, I was introduced to Oneida, a grave, but happy looking damsel, with dark oval features, lighted up by a re markable expression of intelligence, and engaged in the pleasing duty of nursing a child some six months old. Though not talkative, I found her sensible in her remarks, speaking English very fluently . for an Indian, and proud beyond all des • cription of her husband, on whom she appeared to gaze as a species of deity.— The night was very far advanced ere we separated, and I shall always remember with pleasure the hours I spent in the so ciety ofthis happy couple. Next morn ing, after a few hours’ hunting, Bill pad dled me on board the good brig Archer, and' then returned to his log-hut and wife. “My dear,” said one of our fashion able ladies “ Louisa has gone through French, Latin, Greek, music and danc ing. You must buy her a grammar—and other books necessary to commence her English education.”