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V. 11. JACOBY, Proprietor.
Truth and Right- God and our Country.
lTwo Dollars per Annua.
VOLUME 12.
BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY NOV EM BE II 21, 1860.
NUMBER 46.
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STAR OF THE NORTH
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:' -"A Fll'LT CONFESSED,"
' BT J C. PRtX'CC. " " ' '
A fault renftu'dis half redress' J
A simple saying, brief and wise ;
The ready troth i ever best,
II iroth without disguise.
If, in a weak and annry lionr, .
We utter bitter word and strong, ' '
O ! let us strive with all our power
. ' To rectify the; wrong.
- If we attempt to mar and stain
--' A fellow being' peace and name,
- What does our selfish spirit niti
. Bui fretfulnes and shame ?
Remember that we but distrain
- Another' quiet and our own ;
-Then let us hasten to confess, "
And. if we can, atone.
But there are deeds done in the dark,
. More baneful till than careless speech ;
' Ti when we single out a mark
'That secret spite may teach ; '
Ami arrow from an i-nseen hand
Is wing d to wound !orapguiltle-s breast;
And who can such a toe withstand,
; Hidden and uttconlesed ?
, God jurfgelh justly, and will bring
Grief tor the mischief that we do ;
We cannot work an evil thing
Bol we shall iffer loo,
Thrn let n lay the bosom bare,
"" Before the injured one and Heaven,
f And. in a gush of heart felt prayer,
Confers and le loririven ?
:. Three Wild Storfcs. ,
.The Ssrnoyedes, whose country will
readily be found in the northern extremity
of Asiatic Russia, belong to that large
family of the human race which comprises
the Turks, the Mongalo, the Tcngusians,
and the Finns, with all their subdivisions,
and which yi distinguished by ethnolojists
s the 4,Alatc." Their life is i-hiefly passed
ii the desert regions bordering the Arctic
Ocean, which are sometimes damp and
marshy; and their" principal property con -its
of the reindeer which convey them
from place to' place . when they feel it
necessary to change the site of their en
campment. , Tents are their only dwelling
places, and so completely are they wedded
to m nomadic life, that it seems probable
they will rather be extinguished than bene
fitted by the progress of civilization.
Among these primitive people the great
Altaic philologist, M. Alexander Castaen,
found a set' of tales, which for wildness
vqnal the most fantaMic dreams of the Hin
tloos. The heroes to which they refer are
completely free from all law, moral or
physical j virtue is by no means necessarily
rewarded, nor is death an nnsnrmountable
obstacle in the way of an aspiring genius.
With these tales, in a condensed form, we
present our readers.
A tribe of Samoyedes, seven hundred
e'roflg, was encamped in as many tents,
under the rule of seven chiefs, all members
of one family, and alf maintaining the
dignity of their office by devoting their
time, talents, and energies to the single
purpose of dining out. Six of these great
were childless, but the other, the eldest,
had a boy, who, far from sharing in the
family propensity, never went out at all,
fcot snored away his exister.ee itbed. On
one occasion, -when a great festival was
coming off, the father of this heavy youth
asked him to join in the party but tie re
fused with a yawn, alleging as sn ex
com) that he had a bad dream, which
showed him that all the seven chiefs would
fetish miserably, unless they appeased the
higher powers by a sacrifice of fourteen
reindeer.
The father laughed at the dreams ; but,
when the next morning dawned, the horri
ble reality far' exceeded the dismal pre
diction, for the youth, opening his eyes,
found thai not only the seven chiefs, bat
the whole seven hundred, personages, with
fhelr reindeer and dogs, hid come" to an un
timely end. The frightful spectacle aroused
biro to nnwonted activity, and, having first
Bt all the cords of the tents, he set out on
fi, long walk, which, at the " end of some
long months, he found . tco much for his
trer.gih, especially as hn was not fortified
iJ a panicle of food. At last he came to
jhe sight of a former encampment, where
fce foond ' a bone, already gnawed , by the
jdcf, but which,, in jha present emergency
was not to be" despid. Having retailed
Jiime-elf with this delicacy, he raked about
the snow, in hopes of rrakingmore d:s;
0Terie cf'the same ' kind, but he only
found x pair cf silver ear-rings,' which he
pet into his jtave, and then set out on
aac.Ii2r locj walk, teeing; nothing at all till
his eves were g!aideu3i with the sight of
a reindter sledge.;-'- " r : -
"Have you fpan ear ring?," said a wo
psn who was 'the sola occupant cf the
reLida "because if yon bare, yoa pay &a
jrfjj hand ihera pvsr." '
"Yes, hava found them, and .I've got
ibn in my s'ovp. Yon may take them,
t-rd wc':.-.??,'jf joo'll only drirfl me to
To this very modest request the woman
replied by giving the Wanderer (as we
shall call him) such a blow with her epear
that he fell senseless. She then took the
ear-rings, and rode on as if nothing had
happened.
The blow of the spear had a narcotic
effect, and the Wanderer passed a long time
in sleep. On resuming his dull journey
across the , boundless desert he came to a
site of another encampment, again enjoyed
the luxury cf gnawed bone, and seeking in
the snow for more, discovered an iron
shovel. This proved more serviceable than
the ear-rings, for a finely dressed lady, who
met him shortly afterwards, and asked for
her shovel, rewarded his good office in re
storing it by driving him home to her tent.
They indulged in pleasant converse on the
way, the Wanderer talking about the 'in
habitants of the seven hundred tents, and
their untimely end, of which the lady had
heard somewhat already, but desired to
hear more, till at last the dialogue took a
new turn, through the lady's remark that
the reindeer in the sledge were uncom
monly like his late father's stock; for the
elderly gentleman who had presented the
la.ly with this fine pair of animals, and also
with the iron shovel, had intended them for
bridal gilts, in consideration of her ap
proaching marriage with his eon. This son
was clearly the Wanderer, so that the hap
py lady had at once found her intended
husband and recovered her lott shovel.
They lived together happily enough as
man and wife, till the time arrived for re
moving " the camp. Then the Wanderer
discovered .that, although he had agreed
very well with his wife, he was far from
popular with the inhabitants of the neigh
boring tenia. When the tribe commenced
its march, he was proviJed vith Arorse
reindeer than the rest, so that he always
lagged behindhand when at last a halt
allowed him to overtake his comrades, one
of them artfully contrived to run a spear
through his body. The party then moved
mprriljr nnwa"', a It nothing ho.t hap
pened, and though the bereaved lady re
mained, behind, weeping in the sledge, her
deer soon took fright and carried her after
the others. Dead as he was, the Wanderer
retained sense enough to be aware of the
presence of an old man, who had but one
eye, one hand, and one leg, and who, stri
king him wi h iron staff, bade him hasten
back home, where he would find his father
and all his uncles alive. Thus admonished,
he woke up and found himself alone, but,
instead of following the old man's salutary
counsel, he rejoir.ed his wife and compan
ions, who had again hahed, anc" was re
warded for his obstinacy by being killed
again, with the same weapon as before
This time his wife did not think it worth
while to stop behind and weep." but con
tinued her journey with the others, firm in
the conviction that he who had got nponce
could easily get up, twice. Nor was she
wrong. The defective old . man again re
suscitated the dead Wanderer with a touch
of his iron staff, again advising him to re
turn home, and informing him that his
fatner was not only alive, but had been
alive for some time. As the Wanderer had
witnessed the destruction of hi family with
his own eyes, this last assertion considera
bly weakened hi confidence hi the old
man's veracity, so he joined his wife and
comrades, who bad again halted, as before,
and with the same result, for the same man
killed him for a third time, with the same
spear.
The old gentleman, whose patience was
nearly exhausted, again revived the corpse
with the iron staff, but took occasion to ob
serve (hat he did not intend to repeat the
operation. The Wanderer had now be
come a little very little wiser by the
experience. As the murderer had always
artfully persuaded bim to look another way
while the mortal wound was inflicted, he
had never been properly aware of his own
death, but had regarded his one-eyed
benefactor as one of the images in a strange
dream. However, a man is not to be
killed three times for nothing, so when he
again, joined the camp, strong in the suspi
cion that he would meet with foul play, he
resolved to strike the first blow. Instead of
entering his tent as before, he took .all the
bows and arrows, out of the sledges while
his comrades .were sleeping, and then
hewed down the tents with his wife's iron
shoTel. The sleepers, thus violently
awakened, rushed from the tents, and
being deprived of . their weapons, were
easily despatched. Our hero had inten
tionally spared none but his wife's nearest
relations, but when he surveyed the corpses,
he was grievously disappointed at the dis
covery that the miscreant, who had slain
bim three times over, was not among them.
The persevering villain had escaped. Still
there werj traces of bis feet upon the snow,
anj these, the, Tengelnl shovel bearer fol
lowed, till at length be. overtook the treble
assassin. Frightful and long was the single
combat that ensued. It lasted through the
whole winter, and just as 'summer set in,
both combatants dropped down dead, af
fording a savory repast to the wolves and
foxes, who soon reduced tbem to a heap of
fiesbless bones.''"1 V'f ! ''""''"".
The one-eyed old gentleman, resolved
that the story should not, end. , here, paid a
visit to the bones about, the beginning of
the autumn, and collected those of, the
Wanderer into a bag, gramblinj very much
that his good advice had not been followed,
and juforrniag his pieeees! pro.frrs that
more trial, and now, he trusted, the wilful
youth would go home, schooled as he had
been by such very bitter experience.
With the bag on his back, the one eyed
old gentleman crept into a hoilow, alter
rolling aside a stone that stopped the en
trance, and found himself in a dark, rJismal
place, in which" there was . all manner of!
disorderly ' whistling and singing, while
sundry hands sought to make a capture of
the bag. ' When the old man's eye grew a
little more accustomed to the situation, he
could perceive by the light that issued from
the other end of the room that the snatchers
and whistlers were all fleshless skeletons; j
hut as this was a matter of trifling moment,
he walked up towards the light, and found
a tent, within which a fire was burning,
while an old crone, whose large eyes were
placed vertically in her hesd, aat on the
hearth; with two unweildly monsters for
companions.
"Here's some firewood for ye," rowled
the one-eyed old man, pitching his bag at
the old woman.
"Thank ye ! We were sadly out of it,"
replied the crone, and threw the bones on
the fire which speedily converted them into
ashes. On these the old woman slept for
three whole days, at the end of which they
produced a human form, namely, that of our
friend, .the Wanderer, who could not make
out where he was, and felt particularly
awed by the apect of the two monsters.
These, the old lady informed him, had
been very estimable persons in their time,
but were now converted to stone ; and she
gave him to nnderstand that if he did not
take her for : a wife he would be
petrified likewise. Honestly avowing that
he was married already, the Wanderer com
plied with her request, and the old dame,
not to be behindhand in generosity, pro
mised to drive him home. So after a short
honeymoon of three days, the reindeer were
put to the lady's sledge, and bride and
bridegroom rode merily towards the mouth
of the hollow, pursued all the way by the
mob of skeletons, who tried to wound the
stranger with their spears, but were ren
dered powerless by the counter charm of
the reindeer. The stone at the mouth of
the hollow was so weighty that the Wan
derer could not restore it to its place, but
this operation was gracefully performed by
the old woman wiib a kirk ; and a little
more journeying brought the loving couple
to a tent, where they found the first wife
and both her parents. These jumped into
the sledge, which now proceeded with all
speed to the Wanderer's first homo the
old place with the seven hundred tents, in
which everybody had been murdered when
he was a little sleepy boy.
There were the dear old tents all erect
again, not one of the seven hundred miss
ing ; there wre the people, and their deer,
and their dogs, just as if nothing had hap
pened, and the Wanderer had a right to ex
act a little repose after his toilsome vicissi
tudes. There, too, was that good creature,
the little old man with one eye, and, 6ad
to say, behind the old man was the hateful
villain who had so many times caused our
hero's death. Of course, two such invete
ratafoes could not meet without fighting,
and though the Wanderer soon despatched
his adversary, his victory was immediately
followed by insanity, and he killed his one
eyed banefactor into the bargain. Off like
a whiff of smoke went the beautiful vision
of domestic felicity. The existence of the
people in the tents was manifestly contin
gent on the life of the old man, for when
the Wanderer approached his boyhood's
home, he found ail dead, and his two wives
instantly died likewise, leaving him in a
state of solicitude. Thus the story leaves
off, as it began, with a heap of corpses, and,
what is the strangest part of the matter,
most of the people who die at the end are
those who die at the beginning.
Seven brothers, who are heartless in the
imost literal sense of the word, figure in a
tale that is distinguished from the others
by something of a poetical tone. These
seven brothers have murdered an old
Samoyede lady and carried off her daughter,
but there is a pious son, who has obtained
a sopernaturally gifted beauty for his wife,
and hopes, with her aid, to repair the mis
chief that has been done. The great point
is to get the hearts of the brothers, which
they are in the habit of taking out of their
bosoms every night before they retire to
rest, and which they very imprudently en
trust to the care of the captive girl.
When the Simoyede and his wife enter
the tent belonging to the brothers, the lady
is invisible, but the husband accosts his
sifter, whom ha finds alone. . The brothers,
the informs him, are from home at present,
but will return in the evening, and she
gives him ample instructions how he is to
proceed in his pious work. What these
instructions were will be shown by the
manner in which they were carried out,
we must promise that the hero slinks off to
his own residence, and his wife undertakes
the achievement of the adventure.
When the brothers come home, they eat
their supper, and, spreading out seven deer
skins on the ground, lay themselves down
to rest. The captive maiden then goes
round to them all with a dish. In this they
place their hearts, which are afterwards
bung on one of the tent poles by the treach
erous attendant. The wife, securing her
prize, returns with it to her husband, who,
on the following morning, pays the brothers
a visit, and finds thm all in a wretched
state, Six fit the hearts be casts on the
life, he may have his heart back. The de
sired resuscitation is effected by means of
certain charms, but the seventh heart is
nevertheless thrown on the ground, and the
eldest brother perishes like the rest, while
the Avenger takes his mother and sister
home.
An important personage in the family of
the Avenger is his father's sister,. It was
by her counsel that he obtained his gifted
wife, detained her garment while she was
bathing with her six sisters, and refusing to
restore it till she had promised not to leave
hin. In fairy tales all the world over
this mode of ensnaring sem supernatural
personages is exceedingly common, and
therefore we but lightly touch on this inci
dent, as being less characterestic than any
of the others.
The wise aunt, consulted once by her
nephew, presents him with a knife, that he
is to give his wife, who will assuredly make
a proper use of it. With these injunctions
the nephew complies, and the wife no
sooner receives the. weapon, she cuts out
the heart of every one in the tent, including
her own and her husband's, and flings
them up in the air. The aunt visiting ti.e
tent, finds every one alive, though destitute
of the most important organ of vitality ; and
with a view of recovering the lost hearts,
proceeds to a lake, where the six sisters of
the wife are bathing, and weeping for the
seventh. Detaining the clothes of one of
the bathers, she will not re store them save
in exchange for a number of hearts, found
by the sisters at their aerial residence, and
which may possibly be those recently ex
tracted. Loaded with these hearts, which
have been purified in a celestial region, the
aunt returns to the tent, and all on receiving
their hearts become pure and holy The
wife proposes that, they should now join
her sisters, and ascending through the air
in a roindeer sledge, they penetrate a thick
mist, and at last reach a warm, blissful
place, in which they are living to the pres
eut day.
In consequence of missionary operations
the legends of the Finnish races not unfre-
queuily show a curious mixture of the
Christian with the national elements, the
Apostles sometimes appearing as powerful
allies of the ancient gods. We can hardly
help sufficient that the Christian doctrine of
regeneration is to some extent shadowed
forth sn this last and least savage of our
Samoyede tales.
The Death of a
It went in the morning a bright and ra
diant morning many went yesterday.more
to day, and there are dews to be shed for
the departures of to-morrow. And can it
be wandered that pleasant summer morn
ings should beguile them into going ? Is it
a marvel that they do not wait for the bur
den and the noon, but fol ow the lark and
her song over the ruin of the rainbow 1
That those words so beautiful, they should
make so true, ' and joy cometh in the morn-
ing
Going in the morning ! a glorious morn
ing when the sky is all beauty, and the
world is all bliss; ere the dews have goue
to Heaven, or the stars gave gone to God ;
when the birds are singing, and the cool
wiuds are blowing, and the flowers are out
that will be shut at noon, and tne clouds
that ate never rent in rain, and the shadows
inlaid with crimson lie awaj to the west.
We have sometimes seen a little coffin,
like a casket for jewel, all alone by itself
in a huge hearse, melahcholy with plumes,
and gloomy as a frown and we have tho't,
not so should we accompany those a little
way, wno go in
the morning. We have
wondered why they did not lake the little
coffin into the carriage with them, and lay
it gently upon their laps, the sleeper there
lulled to slumber without a bosom or a cra
dle. We have wondered what there was
for tears in such a going in the eariy
morning from home to home lice fair,
white doves with downy wings emerging
from neither night and fluttering for en
trance at the windows of Heaven. Never
yet has there been a hand wanting to lake
the wanderer in, and shot out the darkness
and the storm.
Upon those little faces, it never seemed
to as, that death could place his great seal ;
there is no thought of the charnel house in
those young listeners to that invitation,
whose acceptance we are bound to forbid ;
then should be morning songs and not sighs;
fresh flowers and not badges of morning ;
no tears nor clouds, but bright, dews and
bright dawnings together.
Fold up the white robe ; lay aside the
forgotten :oy ; smooth the little nnpressed
pillow, and gently smile as you think of
the garment, of the harp of gold, and of
the fair brow with its diadem of light ; smile
as you think that no years can make that
memory old. An eternal, guileless child,
waiting about the threshold of Paradise for
the coming of a friend from home.
Here the glad lips would quiver with an
guish ; the bright curls grow grizzled and
gray ; the young heart weary and old, but
there, changeless as the stars, and young as
the last, new morning.
The poet tells of a green bough rent by
the tempest from the tree, and swept rude
ly along the breast of an angry river, and a
mother bird with . cries of grief fluttering
beside it, for her nest and nestlings were
there. Oh ! better to be wafted away from
earth, than thus that they should drift
around the world in storm.
When childrentpnurnmo
Buffalo Hunting in Soath Africa. j
Bnffola hunting at the Cape is so totally
different from the chase of the American
buffalo, that perhaps an account of a da) 's
hunt and description of the Cape buffalo
may not prove uninteresting.
In the cool season cf U'M I journeyed,
with one companion, :c -irs. ipo'i the east
coast of Africa. Cm . tu.-'.i; point was
Natal, and after lwe;-.ty eht Jays trtkirig,
we arrived at our ground. We encamped
upon a mountainous ride, a spur of the
great Drakenbergs or QoaC-..'.'.a range of
mountains,, which rn.: t pHy the
whole continent from east o 'i !, Frm
our lofty place of abou-i vs c: '. i rk the
course of the Pongola rver us it flowed
through the valley below. Ti.- scenery
was beautiful; targe ovulating downs,
dotted with clumps of large and majestic
trees, gave an idea rather of an extensive
park than a wild and uninhabited country,
so fi 'I of malaria and tever, that even the
natives, after vain attempts to locate them
selves, were fain to fly from so unhealthy a
spot. Engaging the service of twenty-four
Kaffirs of the Amaswaza tribe, we descen
ded into the lower grounds, in light march
ing order, leaving our European servants,
camp, wagons, &c., &c, on the mountain.
Pitching a small patrol lent upon the batik
of a river, I left the party, and accompan
ied two Kaffirs, sallied forth with the inten
tion of stalking buffalo. After a long walk,
I succeeded Jri getting within twenty yards
of four old bulls; they stood facing me, evi
dently alarmed, but as yet had not detected
ray stealthy approach.
Standing as they did, it was an akward
shot ; the immense mas of horn upon the
forehead sheaths it with a coat of mail ; in
addition to which bufTola carry their noses
high, thus affording no sure mark when
facing the hunter. I aimed at the point of
the shoulder and fired ; the ball (a 2 oz
one) told. 1 slunk behind a bush as the
bull galloped heavily away. I Ftarted a
Kaffir to keep him in sight, and it was
well I did so. Hastily reloading, I follow
ed, and was joined by the Kaffir, who re
ported that, after proceeding a short dis
tance, the wounded animal had proceeded
sharp round a bush, upon the edge cf the
game path. Cautiously advancing, I got
within eighty yards ; I saw my friend wait
ing evidently with the intention of charging
whoever followed him upon the path.
There was no bush between us, and not
liking to approach nearer I- filed at him ;
the bullet hit again, but the distance was
too "reat for the shot to be effectual. He
now moved t-lowly and sulkily off, followed
at a respectable distance by the same iiiie !-
ligeol native who had previously epor.e.l i
him. I found, upon advancing, the Katar
watching a small clump of bush, in which
the buffalo was reported to have taken rei
nge. I desired him to advance with me
and point him out ; both Kaffirs declined i
accompanying me, alleging the bufV.o was
dangerous and meant mischief.
Sitting down to watch the buh, I dis
patched a messenger to the tent almost
half a mile distant lor the iiog. In a very
short time the dogs vmx in number, and led
. . . . , '
. I r f Pi i. m O.rtHO 1 I V PH Prill 'I
the thicket, the natives pointed out a dense
miraosoa buhh, in which the buffalo was
standing. 1 could merely s the outlines
of his figure ; 1 could .in at no vital part;
so, directing the KafHr. t .-lip
tr.
dogs the
y shot.
the momen". I fired, I
The eifect was el-tricA. ;
ment the most perfect s.:.
was silent ; but tl. j disctn
; ievnus m
r:gned all
!y3 had scarcely
taken place, when, with an angry roar, the
buffalo bore down u: on us, the small bush
es between were i-.V.-'. : a moment,
everything yielding : h - .. and pon
derous bulk. Eona. : . . l.afnr did
not (as they often do) i - rjst. ee of
mind they sli .ied the io. - ; dashing at
him, his course was c..Kng-.; and I follow
ed in order to administer anther dose ; but
so sudden and impetuous were his attacks,
that, after narrowir.gly escaping more than
on -- I was fain to leave the covert and
watch for a chance of a shot outside. Pres
ently he broke covert on the other side, and
went off full speed for the river, with the
whole psck of dogs in full chase. I follow
ed as fact as 1 could. Upon arriving at the
river, I found him at bay cn the other side
I again fired, but the distance was about
eighty yards too far to kill. Tremendous
ly worried by the dogs, he repeatedly took
to the water, making down the stream. I
continued a warm fire from the opposite
bank over against the tent. After receiv
ing many balls, he swam across in the deep
water towards me. I waited until he was
within ten yards of the water's edge, and
fired. This shot proved fatal; his nose
sank beneath the stream, the waters of
which were dyed with .his blood; while
some of the dogs cliined upon his back,
biting his ears and worrying him to the last.
I certainly obtained this animal solely
from the exertions of the dogs. It was
highly exciting to see the battle in the wa
ter. The staunch manner in which they
stuck to him was really wonderful, and ex
cited my admiration not a little.
To hunt buffalo successfully, it ii neces
sary the . hunter should have a perfect
knowledge ot their habits and modes of life;
he should be able to follow their spoor iu
the bush, to tell how old it is, whether the
animal is alarmed and moving rapidly, cr
is merely feeding as be goes along. He
Without this knowledge the sportsman's
edjcatiou is incomplete, and besides want
of success he will find himself . frequently
in dangerous and difficult situations such as
would not occur to a more accomplished
brother sportsman.
I am led to these reflections by the
many parties I have seen start well provi
ded with everylhing- but the requisite
knowledge of the habits and instincts of the
animals they were about to pursue, and
consequently return disappointed. . Some
thing more than being a good rifle shot is
required ; every species of game have their
own peculiar habits, and to me I must con
fess not the least a'tractive portion of the
sport was, by a knowledge ot their habits,
to be able to bring the chase to a successful
issue.
The cows and young buffalo are to be
found in herds ; the old bulls are generally
alone, or perhaps in Bmall troops, from
three to ten in number. About the time
the cowr calve, and for weeks afterwards,
the bulls remain with the rest of the herd ;
they then separate, and, though they are
occasionally all found together, they are
more usually apart. The cows hide their
young in the thickest and most bushy kloofs,
keeping by them during the day, and lea-ling
them forth at i.ight to feed. About sun
set, when not much disturbed, the herd may
be seen gathering at the edge of the bush ;
during the night they come out into the
open plains and graze; soon after daybreak
they return to the bush, seeking tUe thick
est and most impenetrable places, where,
nheltered from the heat of the sun, they
sleep until the : approach of night again
calU them forth. The calves remain with
the herd after they have ceased to follow
the cows, and none but the oldest and
strongest bulls separate from the main body.
Very early in the morning is the best
time for hunting, as they may then be
found on the plains, and may be intercep
ted on their return to the bush, and hunted
on horseback. Sometimes they return ear
ly to their favorite kloofs. It is then neces
sary to follow the spoor, observing the ut
most precaution not to make any noise.
The crack of a dry slick under foot is enough
to start the whole herd, which, rushing
blindly through the bush, terrify themselves
but the astounding noise they make. Some
times their quick 6cent will indicate to
the m the approach of any enemy. Should
he rush take place in the direction the hun
ter is advancing, his situation is one of ex
treme peril, as in their headlong flight
they charge whatever is in their way. A
quick ascent into the nearest tree is the
t ii. rtlin Kiif (nm.limpt I i hnH 11 Inn
.ill. . . . . u-
c!T-.tnd ami fh hnntpr mnt triiKt to hia
i'.-ustnee of mind, and secure the best con
cealment he can.
The large horns and tough skin of the
buffalo render a long shot useless. About
fifty or sixty yards is usually the distance,
but in the thick bush the best plan is to
creeT) if possible, within fit lee n or twenty
yards ; a bullet of from eight to twelve
to the pound lodged behind the bend
of the shoulder is generally to be re-
"cu , ' , V"
stantaneouslv fatal. A 6ingle animal is
' i : v
more easily appraached than a herd ; when
. -
In numbers some are always standing on
the look-out. A solitary bull, on the con
trary, will sometimes rise within half a
dozen place. When wounded, and in the
bush or long reeds, they are exceedingly
dangerous. The extreme rapidity with
which they dath through the thickest and
strongest covert, their quick sight and keen
scent, render the -utmost caution necessary
Plunging along a game path, they will sud
denly wheel lound some bush, and thehun
ter following hot upon the spoor is pros'
tr.:ed before he has time to raise his gun
It is then the vidictive and savage nature of
the buffalo shows itself; stamping with his
fore feet and goring with his horns, 1 have
known them to break every bone in their
victim's body. With well trained dogs you
may follow boldly, as by the.r incessant
barking you are made aware of his exact
locale, and the attacks o! the dogs occupy
his attention iufficiently to allow of a delib
erate aim being taken ; but dogs should be
kept in leabhes and lipped after the wound
ed buffalo; otherwise, if allowed to range in
the covert, they would probably drive eve
ry one out without a shot being obtained.
Buffaloes are greatly molested by the
swarms of flies and myriads of ticks which
always accompany them. A very constant
attendant upon them is the small brown
bird called by the cononists the tick bird-
This bird is always found in considerable
numbers in the neighborhood of buffaloes
and I have often noticed them flying and
screaming in great agitation when we have
approached their friends. I believe they
not unfrequenlly give the alarm, which is
followed by instantaneous tight. I had of
ten heard the story, but confess I was scep
tical nutil convinced by ocular demonstra
tion. Such is the African buffalo ; cunning and
suspicious, it is difficult to approach, but
when wounded and its passions roused, it
is as dangerous and formidable an aatogo
nist as the skeenest sportsman would wish
to encounter.
La bob Lost. Hunting for your dog when
you live io the neighborhood of a sausage
factorty.
Trying to persuade your wife to retain a
pretty servant maid.
The Gipsies. ; ,
A correspondent of the World furnishes'
the following novel statement, concerning
the Gipsies : "
To THt Editor or the Wosld: The al
lusion made by you in your issue of the ,
on the subject of the gipsies, induces me
to think that you will give insertion to the
following remarks on this singular race : '
The gipsies have frequently called forth a,
certain kind and degree of" interest, which
has often died away again for this particular
reason, that little or nothing can be learned
I from them of their history and condition, on
account of the extreme prejudice that is
entertained towards them and the singular
reserve they show to people outside of their
body. But when we gain their confidence
we find about the tribe much that is inter-'
esting 'to the generality of intelligent
persons. ' ' i '
The question that most natarally presents
itself, is, "who are the gipsies!"' TW
reader of history will be surprised to know
that tbey are the "mixed multitude" of the "
exodus that left Egypt under Moses, and '
separated from the Jews in Arabia Petria,'
and traveled northeast into India, where, la
consequence of the rigidity of caste that has'
prevailed in that country from time Im
memorial, they formed themselves into a
wandering race, living distinct from all'
others. . Having been runaway slaves of a1
civilized society, the change of their cir-'
cumstances ' naturally led them to adopt
that condition which has characterized
them since the beginning of the fifteenth '
century, when tbey first became known to ;
the inhabitants of Europe. " 1
The gipsies that go about England to-day
are merely the remains of the wild stock as
it entered Great Britain in or previous to
the year 1506. In their natural state they
are and have always been a very prolific
people. In the early part of the reign of
Queen Elizabeth they were estimated, la
England, at above 1C,00? ; and, notwith
standing their great natural increase, they
are generally set down as 'b?ing of rery '
few in number in England." - A late writer
in Chambers' Edinburgh Journal even. 5
makes the astertion that "before this ceo-'
lory expires there will not be a gipsy in ;
Western Europe." But at the present day
there are in Europe and America together
less than 3,00u,000, of all mixtures of blood, -shades
of color and position in life.
So little is known of the gipsies that peo- '
pie invariably believe that when a gipsy
eaves the tent and settles in life, or even
travels without a tent, he ceases to be a
gipsy ! But, notwithstanding every change '
of whatever kind he may make, he and his
descendants never cease to be gipsies!
The North American Indians are "dying
out," because they depart this life ; but the
gipsy tribe - gradually leave the lent and
gets scattereJ amid the rest of the popula- -
tion, and maintain their identity as a people,
notwithstanding iheir having no religion
peculiar to themselves.
The prejudice that exists against a gipsy -
is such as would lead us to think he was a
snake or . some other reptile, rather than a '
man. The original gipsy has therefore no
alternative but to bold himself aloof from
the rest of his fellow creatures, and even to
lead the roving life for which be is so. -
much blamed. He has been born into that
state and been reared in it ; and knowing
no other he naturally follows it, and finds -
the life of the ordinary inhabitant as dis-
tasteful to him as his would be to the '
ordinary inhabitant.
Add to this the fact that the common na
tive, of whatever condition in life, will not '
associate wi;h him ; will not allow him to 1
enter a school, will even consider it pollu
tion to touch him, and yon will see how
difficult, how almost impossible it is to '
make anything of what people generally
nnderstand to be a gipsy. But whenever '
the gipsy leaves the tent, and in the popu- "
lar estimation ceases to be a gipsy, he most "
rigidly hides from the public the fact that '
he belongs to the tribe. The tent is the
hive from which the tribe swarms ; hence, '
as people know of no other gipsies than
those about the bive, they come very .
quickly to the conclusion that they "can
make nothing of the gipsies;" without
knowing that the tribe, taking year with
year, and tent with tent, are constantly
throwing off swarms of gipsies, into all
kinds of itinerant and settled life. On ac
connt ol the tribe as it were, "hiding itself,"
as it leaves the tent, the race, such as it is '
known to the world, never gets the reputa
tion for the improvement of which it is
capable, and no one of the tribe, outside of
the tent, will say that they are gipsies j '
consequently the subject of their history is
allowed to remain in a slough, oat of which
it is necessary to drag it S,
How to Kist. First, grasp with haste,
around the waist, and hug her tight to thee; ,
and then she'll say "do, go way do,
won't you let me be!" Then, oh, what,
bliss! but never miss so good a chance at
that ; then make a dash, as quick as Hash,
and Harriet, hold my hat!
A St. Louis paper says that the grass- .
hoppers have eaten up the entire tobacco
crop of Franklin county, and the last &4 ;
was heard from them, they was seated oa
the corners, begging every man that ptssei
for aohaw.
Bill, what brought yon to the calaboose)
A couple of constables, sir.