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himself up into an air of displeasure.--  He had the sheep on his back; and
had the head of the wolf been on the other side, I should have killed him
dead; as it was--
 You killed the sheep, again interrupted the young lady-- I know it all, my
dear coz. But would it have been decorous, for the High Sheriff of--to mingle
in such sports as these?
 Surely you did not think I intended actually to fire with my own hands?
said Mr. Jones.--  But let us follow, and see the shooting. There is no fear
of any thing unpleasant occuring to any female, in this new country,
especially to your father s daughter, and in my presence.
 My father s daughter fears nothing, sir, returned Elizabeth; more
especially, when escorted by the highest executive officer in the county.
She took his arm, and he led her through the mazes of the bushes, to the spot
where most of the young men of the village were collected for the sports of
shooting a Christmas match, and whither Natty and his companions had already
preceded them.
CHAPTER XVII.
 I guess, by all this quaint array,
 The burghers hold their sports to day.
Scott
Theancient amusement of shooting the Christmas turkey, is one of the few
sports that the settlers of a new country seldom or never neglect to observe.
It was connected with the daily practices of a people, who often laid aside
the axe or the sithe, to seize the rifle, as the deer glided through the
forests they were felling, or the bear entered their rough meadows, to scent
the air of a clearing, and to scan, with a look of sagacity, the progress of
the invader.
On the present occasion, the usual amusement of the day had been a little
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hastened, in order to allow a fair opportunity to Mr. Grant, whose exhibition
was not less a treat to the young sportsmen, than the one which engaged their
present attention. The owner of the birds was a free black, who had been
preparing for the occasion a collection of game, that was admirably qualified
to inflame the appetite of an epicure, and was well adapted to the means and
skill of the different competitors, who were of all ages. He had offered to
the younger and more humble marksmen divers birds of an inferior quality, and
some shooting had already taken place, much to the pecuniary advantage of the
sable owner of the game. The order of the sports was extremely simple, and
well understood. The bird was fastened by a string of tow, to the base of the
stump of a large pine, the side of which, towards the point where the marksmen
were placed, had been flattened with an axe, in order that it might serve the
purpose of a target, by which the merit of each individual might be
ascertained. The distance between the stump and this point was one hundred
measured yards; a foot more or a foot less being thought an invasion of the
right of one of the parties. The negro affixed his own price to every bird,
and the terms of the chance; but when these were once established, he was
obliged, by the strict principles of public justice that prevailed in the
country, to admit any adventurer who might offer.
The throng consisted of some twenty or thirty young men, most of whom had
rifles, and a collection of all the boys in the village. The little urchins,
clad in coarse but warm garments, stood gathered around the more distinguished
marksmen, with their hands stuck under their waistbands, listening eagerly to
the boastful stories of skill that had been exhibited on former occasions, and
were already emulating in their hearts these wonderful deeds in gunnery.
The chief speaker was the man who had been mentioned by Natty, as Billy
Kirby. This fellow, whose occupation, when he did labour, was that of clearing
lands, or chopping jobs, was of great stature, and carried, in his very air,
the index of his character. He was a noisy, boisterous, reckless lad, whose
good-natured eye contradicted the bluntness and bullying tenor of his speech.
For weeks he would lounge around the taverns of the country, in a state of
perfect idleness, or doing small jobs for his liquor and his meals, and
cavilling with applicants about the prices of his labour; frequently
preferring idleness to an abatement of a tittle of his independence, or a cent
in his wages. But when these embarrassing points were once satisfactorily
arranged, he would shoulder his axe and his rifle, slip his arms through the
straps of his pack, and enter the woods with the tread of a Hercules. His
first object was to learn his limits, round which he would pace, occasionally
freshening, with a blow of his axe, the marks on the boundary trees; and then
he would proceed, with an air of great deliberation, to the centre of his
premises, and throwing aside his superfluous garments, he would measure, with
a knowing eye, one or two of the nearest trees, that were towering apparently
into the very clouds, as he gazed upward. Commonly selecting one of the most
noble, for the first trial of his power, he would approach it with a listless
air, whistling a low tune; and wielding his axe, with a certain flourish not
unlike the salutes of a fencing-master, he would strike a light blow into the
bark, and measure his distance. The pause that followed was ominous of the
fall of the forest, that had flourished there for centuries. The heavy and
brisk blows that he struck, were soon succeeded by the thundering report of
the tree, as it came, first cracking and threatening, with the separation of
its own last ligaments; then thrashing and tearing with its branches the tops
of its surrounding brethren, and finally meeting the ground, with a shock but
little inferior to an earthquake. From that moment, the sounds of the axe
would be ceaseless, while the falling of the trees was like a distant
cannonading; and the daylight broke into the depths of the woods, with almost
the suddenness of a winter morning.
For days, weeks, nay months, Billy Kirby would toil, with an ardour that
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evinced his native spirit, and with an effect that seemed magical; until, his
chopping being ended, his stentorian lungs could be heard, emitting sounds, as
he called to his patient oxen, the assistants in his labour, which rung
through the hills like the cries of an alarm. He had been often heard, on a
mild summer s evening, a long mile across the vale of Templeton; when the
echoes from the mountains would take up his cries, until they died away in
feeble sounds, from the distant rocks that overhung the lake. His piles, or,
to use the language of the country, his logging, ended with a despatch that
could only accompany his dexterity and Herculean strength, the jobber would
collect together his implements of labour, light the heaps of timber, and
march away, under the blaze of the prostrate forest, like the conqueror of
some city, who, having first prevailed over his adversary, places the final
torch of destruction, as the finishing blow to his conquest. For a long time
Billy Kirby would then be seen, sauntering around the taverns, the rider of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]