MESHACK BROWNING:
THE CELEBRATED BEAR HUNTER OF THE ALLEGHANIES 2
As he ceased speaking, he made another move, and,[148] as the buck sprang upon him again with his fore feet, he reached up, passed one arm around the animal’s neck, and then the other. Drawing the deer close to him, he vigorously endeavored to upset his valiant opponent. Meshack continued his laughter, for it was certainly a novel wrestling match, and the buck seemed to have the trapper at his mercy. He determined to let his friend fight it out to the bitter end, without any assistance on his part.
The buck seemed to be weakening after fifteen minutes of struggling, and Louis now raised his legs and threw them over the animal’s back. The snow-shoes were somewhat in the way, but he withdrew his right hand from the deer’s neck, and, as he lay beneath him, began to strike him in the ribs with his closed fist.
“It’s now your turn, you rascal,” he called out. “You have had your innings, and it is now my opportunity. How do you like this—and this—and this?”
Every time that he punched the buck the deer would grunt and endeavor to strike him with his fore feet.
Meshack had stopped laughing by now, and walking up to the fighting trapper, said:
“Let go of the buck, Louis, and I will finish him with my hunting-knife.”
“No! No!” replied the woodsman. “I have a good hold on him now, and I refuse to let go until either he or I lose our lives.”
He continued to strike heavy blows upon the buck’s side, as Meshack seized the animal by the ear. Now[149] determined to end the affair, he quickly dispatched him with his hunting-knife, and, as he dropped to the snow, the prostrate trapper drew himself to his feet with a loud shout of satisfaction and delight.
“Meshack,” said he, “you have saved my life! If you had not come, I do not believe that I would have whipped this fellow, for he was the toughest customer that I ever tackled in my entire woodland experience.”
Van Sickle was so upset by the beating which the buck had given him that he would never hunt any more unless Browning went in advance, and if a bush rattled, would jump back in deadly fear that another buck was coming after him. He was severely injured, having many black and blue lumps upon his head, and one very black eye. Two or three days later, he exhibited a long war-club, which he had made to defend himself with, as well as to attack the fighting bucks. It was eight feet in length, with a large knot upon the upper end, and was a deadly means of defense. He would never venture to the woods again unless Meshack went along, and, as the trapper would not go with him, he had no opportunity of trying his murderous instrument.
Shortly after this strange and novel battle in the woods, Meshack was asked by his wife to bring home some young turkeys for supper. Telling her that he could soon do this, he called his dog, Watch, and was off into the woodland. His faithful hound had been lame for more than a month from the bite of the last bear which he had tackled, and was still very stiff.[150] He frisked about his master in spite of this, and seemed to be all ready for anything that might turn up.
It was not long before the trapper saw three or four old turkeys with perhaps thirty or forty young ones. He sent Watch after them, in order to drive them towards him, but they flew into some low, white oak trees. When Meshack walked fast, as if he were going past them, they would sit still as they could for him to pass on. After taking twelve or fifteen steps the trapper would shoot off their heads. He thus kept on, until he had shot off the tops of nine young turkeys. This was sufficient for the larder, and whistling to his dog, he turned about for home.
Watch, however, seemed to be very much excited, and kept whining and sniffing, as if some species of game were near.
“What is it, my boy?” asked his master.
For answer the dog bounded away towards a large mass of rocks. Here he began to bark vociferously, so that the trapper felt sure that a bear was concealed near by.
“Fetch him out, boy! Fetch him out!” he cried.
Down went the dog, and into a crevice in the rocks, while Meshack raced to the other side. To his astonishment no bear came forth, but a huge panther bounded into the open, and, jumping from rock to rock, was soon out of sight. The dog followed along the rocks as best he could, and both quarry and pursuer were soon lost to view. After a few moments, however, the dog opened again, and seemed to be[151] coming back on the other side of the stones and laurel bushes, which here grew in profusion.
Meshack turned to follow the dog. When he had gone a few steps he heard something moving, and wheeling about, saw the panther creeping close upon him. As he went behind some rocks Meshack levelled his rifle. When he came out the trapper fired, directing the ball, as near as he could, to the heart of the ferocious beast. The gun cracked. The panther sprang into the air, snapping at the place where the ball struck him. Then, turning towards the trapper, he came on, put his paws on a small, fallen tree, and looked his adversary full in the face.
Meshack drew his hunting-knife, and, as the panther made a lunge at him, struck at him again and again. The sharp claws ripped the hunting-shirt of the bold pioneer and gashed his arms, but the fierce thrusts of the hardened woodsman soon made the beast cease his attack. He crawled into a leaning tree, where he sat for a moment glaring at the man in buckskin, and then came to the ground. In spite of the fact that he was bleeding profusely, he soon disappeared into a rocky cavern.
The bold trapper has written:
“I was really glad of it, for I found myself so nervous that I could scarcely load my rifle, and, when the panther was looking at me, I was determined that if he made an attempt to come near me, I would seek safety in flight. He would have been obliged to ascend a steep hill, and, as I had at least five steps the start of him, I do not think that he could have caught[152] me. If any man would run at all, I think this would have been as good a cause as any he could have wished for. I know, furthermore, that I would not have been distanced in the race.”
In the meantime Watch returned.
“Heigh on, Watch!” cried the trapper. “Go seek him out! Go seek him out!”
The dog was off in a jiffy, and descended to a large mass of rocks where he could be heard worrying the panther. The growling, snarling, and yelping soon ceased, so Meshack hastened towards the sound. He saw a den before him evidently in use for many years, and in the opening lay the beast, stone dead. Watch was licking his chops, as much as to say, “Now, what do you think of me, old boy? Didn’t I do a good day’s work, eh?”
Meshack was delighted, for the panther was evidently an old stager. He was of tremendous size. Many a dead deer had been found in this particular part of the forest in years past, so it was evident that the beast had ranged the woods for a long time. After his death no more half-eaten deer were seen in the woods by the hunters and backwoodsmen, so it was plainly evident that the mighty panther had been the cause of all this loss. Certainly the trapper had had a dangerous encounter, and had had a narrow escape from severe injuries.
Meshack had heard of a great den of bears on Meadow Mountain, called the Big Gap, and on April 4th, 1803, he started out to hunt them with a friend called Hugh. They were not long in reaching the[153] ground where the bears had denned, or “holed,” as the hunters called it. “It was,” says the trapper, “the greatest place for bear holes I ever saw in my life. I really believe that at least twenty had laid in one acre of rock. They had all left their holes when we arrived, in order to go out after acorns, except an old female and her younglings, which were located in a deep place in the rocks.”
The dogs soon found this family of bears and attacked them, although the old one fought with great fury, while her cubs ran for their lives. As they passed by, Meshack shot at one and killed it, although Hugh missed the one at which he fired. The old bear had left her hole, meanwhile, and endeavored to follow after her young, but the dogs worried her to such an extent that she did not get out of sight of the hole before she was shot dead at the first fire. Two of the young ones escaped.
The two trappers continued their hunt, and in the evening of the same day fell in with another old female and two young bears. The dogs ran them all up the same tree, but the laurel was so thick that as soon as they shot the old one the young ones ran safely away, while the dogs were worrying the mother. The dogs soon finished the parent bear, and, setting off after the two young cubs, drew so close that they put up a tree. Running after them, the trappers were not long in dispatching the two fugitives. Thus, with two old bears, and three cubs, the huntsmen felt that they had done a good day’s work. With great difficulty the booty was carried home by[154] means of two horses, and enough meat was thus secured to last for the entire winter. Besides this, the hides of the young cubs made an excellent carpet for the cabin of the pioneers.
Soon afterwards Meshack purchased some cattle, and, as there were scores of wolves about, on the same night that he took his stock to his home he missed one yearling, which he found had been killed by a wolf. This made him very angry.
“Mr. Wolf shall pay me for my calf,” said he, “and with interest.”
Taking a shoulder of the calf, he laid it in a steel trap and placed the bait in a running branch of water, taking care to hide it very securely. On the third morning after putting out this snare he went to the spot and found that the trap had disappeared.
Rain had fallen during the night and every trace of the wolf’s footprints was destroyed. Nothing daunted, Meshack returned home, called to both of his dogs, and endeavored to lay them on the trail. But they could not scent it on account of the great rain.
The trapper knew that the wolf would go to the nearest laurel swamp, to do which he had to cross a creek. Into this the pioneer waded and walked down it for some distance. Finally he saw where the trap had struck the bank as the wolf was crossing the stream. Wading back to the dogs, he carried them to the other shore, and harked them on the track of the wolf. At first the trail was very indistinct, but as they went forward it became fresher and fresher.
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In about half an hour the dogs began to give tongue and soon were hot on the scent of the wary old fellow, who could not run very far because the trap was fast to his hind legs. Finally there was a terrible hullabaloo, and, running to the sound of the noise, Meshack saw that the wolf had taken to a hollow tree. His head was sticking out, and every time a dog approached, he bit at him and howled dismally.
The dogs were not afraid of the beast, and kept springing at him. Every time a dog would come near enough the animal would snap viciously at him, and, if possible, would sink every tooth in that part of his body which he could reach. He was a terrible fellow,—black and shaggy. Meshack encouraged his pets to do all in their power, crying:
“Hark on, boys! Lay on to him! Fetch the old varmint! Bite the old calf-killer. Hit him, boys! Hit him!”
Finally the strongest dog took a deep hold on one of the wolf’s ears, while the other seized the remaining one. The wolf came out of the tree in a second, but the now energetic attackers threw him to the ground. Again and again he endeavored to recover his feet, but they pulled him over and over. They were all growing exhausted.
At this moment Meshack seized a club and took part in the battle. Again and again he beat the old fellow over the head. Again and again the dogs rolled him about. At length the fierce and ferocious beast gave a great, despairing kick, and it was all over.
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The trapper was delighted. Taking off the scalp and hide, he returned to his cabin, and subsequently sold both for nine dollars,—the price of two calves.
“My good wife,” said he, “I told you that I would make Mr. Wolf pay me well, with interest, for his incursions upon my cattle. I have done it.”
And his wife answered:
“Meshack, you are a man of your word—God bless you!”
One other adventure of this famous trapper of the Alleghanies is interesting, for he had another startling experience. This time he was accompanied by his good friend, Hugh, who was often his companion in bear and wolf hunting.
Deciding to go after bear at the Big Gap, Hugh and Meshack went into camp within three miles of some rocks where many of these animals had previously been seen in abundance. They arrived at the hunting-grounds quite early, having one of their best dogs along, a fellow who could handle almost any bear, whatever his size. The animal grew very lively when near some rocks, and soon ran into a hole, where his yelping was intermingled with loud growls, showing that some large animal was inside. Again and again the trappers called to their faithful hound, but he would not come out. There were three holes out of which Mr. Bear might come bounding forth at any moment.
Meshack had given Hugh a bayonet, fixed on a handle like a pitchfork, with directions to run it through the bear if he rushed by him. He, himself,[157] guarded the hole at which the animal was most likely to appear. The dog was making a terrific noise, as he struggled with the infuriated beast. The fight continued for half an hour, at the end of which time Meshack espied a part of the bear, when peering through a small crack in the rock. Putting his musket to the opening he fired. With a roar and rush the wounded beast dashed into the open.
“Run your bayonet through him, Hugh!” yelled the trapper. “Run your bayonet through him before he gets away!”
But Hugh was too timid to make the attempt. The enraged animal passed him with an evil snarl, and as he scampered to a tree Meshack vainly endeavored to ram another ball home in his rifle. The animal climbed slowly up to a limb and lay there growling evilly.
“Now is your chance, Meshack!” shouted Hugh. “Get after him! Give him a dose of lead!”
The trapper approached in order to secure a bead upon his victim, and, standing beneath the tree, was just raising his rifle so as to take good aim, when, with a mighty rush, Bruin came at him, through the air. It was an unexpected attack, and quite out of the ordinary, so you can well imagine what must the feelings of the trapper have been, as the bear whirled above his head. Stepping aside, he fired at the brown mass just as it reached the ground.
The fighting beast made a savage stroke at the trapper’s legs with his right paw, but Meshack was too quick for him and jumped swiftly aside. Again and[158] again the monster endeavored to get a blow in upon the pioneer, but each time the trapper dodged. Just then his dog appeared, seized Bruin by the hind leg, causing the old fellow to turn about, and snap at his antagonist. This gave the trapper a chance to load, and, quickly ramming home another ball, he pointed his flint-lock at the struggling beast, pulled the trigger, and planted a bullet in his body near the heart. With a savage growl of despair the bear dropped to the ground, where the faithful dog soon terminated his career.
“Hugh, where were you all this time?” asked the smiling Meshack.
His companion approached; much abashed at the small part he had taken in the fray.
“R-e-ally,” said he, “I feared that my weapon was not sufficiently strong in order to dispatch this monster. It might have bent, you know. Then, where would I have been?”
Meshack laughed loudly.
“Well, I reckon, you would have been bent, too,” said he. “For this fellow was surely a scrapper. Here, help me swing him on a pole and we will take him home for the winter’s supply of food.”
This they did, and Bruin increased very materially the slender larder for the winter months, when snow covered the trackless forests and it was impossible to hunt, to fish, or to secure venison or bear-meat in the deep and sombre woodland.
The early settlers, you see, being but few in numbers, had a hard time to maintain themselves; if they[159] had not been extremely economical they could not have lived in the wilderness at all. They fashioned their own clothes, they raised flax and wool, which the women spun and wove into linen and linsey for the men; and made flannel for their own wear. If any man wished to hire help there would be an understanding beforehand as to what the wages were to be paid in. Sometimes pork, beef, honey, or corn was used as a substitute for money. Sometimes a calf, pig, deer-skin, bear-skin, coon-skin, or a wolf’s scalp would suffice. The settlers all lived in cabins, and fed their children on bread, meat, butter, honey, and milk. Coffee and tea were almost out of the question. A few of the older ladies, who had been raised in other parts of the country, alone could use these staples of diet. Meat was plentiful, for, if the farmers could keep the wild animals away from their hogs, the nuts and acorns would make them very fat. Pork, beef, bear-meat, and venison were easily obtained. Wild meat was not thought very much of, because it was most plentiful at all times.
Politics were little understood among the men in buckskin. Most of them were Federalists. An election was usually held on the first Monday in October, when all the settlers would gather at the polling booths, arrayed in hunting-shirt and moccasins, almost every one of them with a big knife stuck in his belt. A stranger would have thought this some military party going to war, and, if a quarrel occurred, the two contestants would rip off both coat and shirt, and fight until one or the other acknowledged that he was[160] the beaten individual. Then their friends would take the bleeding combatants to the nearest stream and give them both a good washing. This would usually end the quarrel. The people were generous to strangers travelling through the country, and if a wayfarer lost his path a hunter would pilot him five, six, or even ten miles, until he was out of danger of being lost. They would refuse all compensation for their services.
In such a community Meshack Browning continued his life, and, in spite of numerous hairbreadth escapes from wounded bears and panthers, successfully escaped from any serious injuries, and he did not kill merely for the sake of killing. Honest and warm sentiments stirred his bosom, as the following story will show.
One day he was following a large buck, which ran into a crevice in some high rocks and there lay down. The trapper hurried after him, and, mounting a large boulder, eagerly searched for a view of the cunning animal. He stood on the rock and looked about him with the utmost care, but could see nothing of the buck, until casting his eyes down at the base of the rock directly below where he stood, there lay the fine fellow contentedly chewing his cud, apparently considering himself perfectly secure. He was watching the ground in front, not thinking that an enemy could approach on the side which the rocks so completely covered. Let me here quote the old trapper:
“The rock being fully twenty feet high, I was obliged to shoot nearly straight down, but when I[161] saw what a complete advantage I had, it greatly marred my pleasure to think that such a noble animal, possessing all the beauty bestowed by a pair of fine, large horns, a well formed body, and tapering limbs; whose life had been innocently spent (never having committed an injury against either man or beast) should be thus sacrified. My desire of killing him was so weakened, that I really had thought of letting him escape the death that was then hanging over him, but again it occurred to me that he was one of the creatures placed here for the use of man, that, if I let him go, probably the next hunter who caught him in his power would surely kill him, and that it would be as well for me to take him as to let any other person have him.
“So, taking a good aim, I fired at this monarch of the forest, when the poor fellow gave a few jumps, and fell dead. I declare the death of that deer gave me more real pain than pleasure. He was a large, old fellow, his head and his face being quite gray with age. I took his skin and returned to my cabin, having the river to wade and at least a mile to travel before I could reach home. The winter being then near, I believe that the death of this buck ended the fall hunt.”
The seasoned trapper was not always accustomed to shoot bears. Sometimes he would trap them in large log traps, hewn out of the forest timber by means of the axe. To entice the animals into this box, he used to roast the leg of a deer, and, while the meat was cooking, he would rub honey over it, so[162] that it would smell very strongly of the latter. Then he would cut off pieces of this sweetened meat, would tie them beneath his moccasins, would walk through the grounds which the bears frequented and would return to the trap. Every bear which smelled his tracks would follow the trail to the trap and would get caught in it.
Shooting wolves was also varied by trapping wolves, and for this he used to take a carcass of a cow or a horse, and lay it in a small stream of water. Then he would go off some distance, so that the wolf could not see where, and would cut bushes. He would stick the ends in the mud so thickly that the wolf could get at the meat only in one place, which was left open and clear. The carcass was so laid that the wolf could eat at either side.
A wolf will never jump over the bait, but will hunt the stream for a place to cross, in order to go around the other side, and eat. Therefore, the wise trapper would leave a passage for the animal to cross the water, and would set bushes about so thickly that they could not get through in any other place. The stream would then be widened where the wolves would pass, so that they could not step over it, and a flat stone be placed in the centre with green moss laid on top, so that it would look as if it had never been moved. Then meat would be cut into small pieces, and strewn on both sides of these crossing-places, both above and below the carcass.
When a gang of wolves would come to the meat the larger ones would drive the smaller ones off.[163] These would run about seeking food, and, soon finding the small pieces strewn about the crossing-places, they would run across, stepping upon the moss-covered stone as they did so. Every time they returned they would be sure to go over the place, setting their feet precisely in the same position on the stone.
The trapper would carefully watch the marks of the presence of the wolves. When he found that they made tracks on the stone by wearing away the moss with their feet he would remove the stone and put a steel trap in its place, covering it over with green moss just as he had covered the stone. When the animals came back, in order to seek food, they would cross as before, place their feet in the trap, and would be securely caught. The old ones, being at the meat when a young one would be caught in the trap, would not be afraid to return,—as there was nothing to scare them. After a while, however, all would become afraid of the crossing-places. Then wise Meshack would place his trap in the mud where they would stand to eat the meat. But after one was caught in this place, all would desert, and trapping would be over with this particular gang of wolves.
After capturing them in this manner for several years they became so cunning that they would not touch any bait which was offered them. The trapper therefore adopted another plan, which was as follows:
He found that they would pick up any fragments of old bones that lay upon the ground, but if they lay in water, or close to it, they would not touch them. He therefore saved all the large bones from the table,[164] particularly the joint ends of beef bones. He would beat them to pieces, mount his horse, so that his tracks would not be scented, and would scatter the stuff over a considerable area of land. Around this space he would then stick some bushes; so that the wolves, in order to get at the mess, would have to pass through an opening in the brush.
The wolves would soon find the bones and eat them up. Then they would be given a second meal. But, meanwhile, a trap would be placed at the opening of the bushes and would be stuck in a hole of its own size. All the extra dirt would be carried away. The trap would be pressed down an inch below the surface. Old leaves would then be laid over it, and it would also be covered with an inch of buckwheat bran, which would keep the wolves from smelling the iron. Then the skillful trapper would take some of the grass, which grew around the spot, and lay it carefully over the trap, so that no eye would discern the difference between that particular place and the surrounding earth. When this was done early in the morning, or before a shower of rain which would destroy all smell, a wolf would be always caught as he came up in search of the little bones. The pioneer was most successful in this method of defeating the cunning of the shy and treacherous animals, who were so destructive to the live stock of the settlers that a considerable sum was paid for their scalps.
That the wolves were fearless the following story will bear full witness:
A friend of the trapper’s called Mr. Calmes, was[165] travelling from Virginia to Kentucky with a number of others, at a time when the Indians were very troublesome. In passing through the wilderness they saw so many trails of the red men that they were afraid to keep a fire burning at night for fear that the prowling savages might see their light and attack them by surprise. They would therefore let their wood burn until their supper was cooked, then they would smother the embers and lie down in the dark.
One night they heard an animal moving around them, and seizing their guns, made ready to shoot it. But the animal, whatever it was, made off in the woodland. By its tracks they could see that it was a huge wolf. After the excitement had subsided they all lay down again to sleep, and one of them so stretched himself upon the ground that his head was exposed outside of the camp. When he was asleep the wolf returned, and, creeping upon him stealthily, bit him so severely about the head that he died before daybreak, without speaking a word to his anxious companions. Mr. Calmes often said that had this ferocious animal found a man in the woods by himself, and if it was at a time when he was particularly hungry, he would have fallen upon him and would have killed him at once. He wound up this grewsome yarn with the sage advice to the trapper to kill all the wolves that he could.
“Browning,” said he, “your hunting is really a great service to this country, for, if you come upon one of these sneaking wolves, you must spare no pain to kill him. There is no knowing how many cattle,[166] sheep, and hogs you will thus save to the inhabitants. I was going to tell you to be prepared for them, but I know that you understand the rascals and will take care of yourself. Whatever you do, do not let one of these bad fellows escape if you can help it.”
Meshack Browning did not do so. His long and active life was one of constant battling with the wild animals of the Blue Ridge, and at the close of his career all could justly say that nowhere had a more famous huntsman ever lived in the eastern portion of the then half-settled United States. Now little game is to be found where once deer, wolves, bears, and wild cats were plentiful, and, although sturdy and honest men still reside in the Alleghanies, seldom does one meet with a character like this bluff old trapper and pioneer.
— Famous Frontiersmen and Heroes of the Border: Their Adventurous Lives and Stirring Experiences in Pioneer Days By Charles Haven Ladd Johnston 1913
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