The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1848-12-05 00:00:00

OAK-TREE WITH A CARRIAGE-WAY THROUGH IT.—
An anecdote is told of the late Duke of Portland, father
of the present Duke, and grandfather of the late lamented
Lord George Bentinck. His Grace, who was a celebrated
man in his day, had a large party at dinner, and after the
'cloth was removed, the wine having circulated with the
usual freedom, the company was somewhat elevated, when
an immense oak, celebrated throughout the whole coun-
try, and the ruins of which are still to be seen at Welbeck,
became the subject of conversation. The duke offered to
bet five hundred guineas that he could drive a carriage
and six right through the heart of this magnificent repre-
sentative of England's forest glories. A gentleman took
him at his word, and the subject was dropped for the even-
ing. Next morning his Grace recollected, not with the
most pleasant feelings, the transactions of the preceding
evening. The oak which he had virtually doomed to de-
struction with one of the finest ornaments of his estate,
and rather than devote it to ruin, he resolved to sacrifice
the five hundred guineas. Accordingly, he intimated the
design of immediately delivering a check to the gentle-
man who had taken the bet, when he learned that nume-
rous bets on the same subject, amounting to a very consi-
derable sum, had been made by other parties, in justice to
whom he considered that he was bound to attempt the feat.
Accordingly, an archway, sufficient to admit a carriage,
was chalked out on the ample trunk of the tree ; a tunnel
was excavated through the solid mass, and his Grace, on
the appointed day, in the presence of a large company of
ladies and gentlemen, was actually driven in state in a
carriage drawn by six beautiful horses right through the
oak. The remains of this giant of the forest, magnificent
even in ruin, are still standing ; and, but for this foolish
frolic, the tree might have flourished for many ages to
come on the ducal domain of Welbeck.

LAW IN RUSSIA.—in Alexander's reign the Jesuits
had made themselves all-powerful in some parts of Po-
land. A rich landholder and possessor of 6,000 peasants
at Poßalik, the Jesuit head-quarters, was so wrought on
by the artful assiduities of the Society that he bequeathed
his whole fortune to it at his death, with this stipulation
—that the Jesuits should bring up his only son and after-
wards give him whatever portion of the inheritance they
should choose. When the young man had reached the
age of twenty, the Jesuits had bestowed on him three
hundred peasants. He protested vehemently against their
usurpation, and began a suit against the Society ; but his
father's will seemed clear and explicit, and after having
consumed all his little fortune, be found his claims dis-
owned by every tribunal in the empire, including even the
General Assembly of the Senate. In this seemingly hope-
less extremity he applied to a certain attorney in St. Pe-
tersburgh, famous for his fertility of mind in matters of
cunning and chicanery. After having perused the will
and the documents connected with the suit, the lawyer
said to his client, " Your business is done; if you will
promise me ten thousand rubles, I will undertake to pro-
cure an Imperial ukase reinstating you in possession of all
your father's property." The young man readily agreed
to the bargain, and in eight days afterwards he was mas-
ter of his patrimony. The decision which led to this sin-
gular result rested solely on the interpretation of the
p!irase, they shall give him whatever they choose, which
plainly meant, as the lawyer maintained, that the young
man was entitled to such portion as the Jesuits chose—
i. to that which they chose and retained for themselves.
The Emperor admitted this curious explanation ; the son
became master of 5,700 peasants; and the Jesuits were
obliged to content themselves with the three hundred they
had bestowed on their ward in the first instance.

A HIGHLAND FLOOD.—That stream (the Findhorn)
which was so calm, and bright, and sunny, when the ot-
ters floated down its current in a still summer's morning,
was a fierce and terrible enemy in its anger ; and, for a
great part of the year, the dread of its uncertainty and
danger was a formidable cause for the preservation of that
profound solitude of the forest which so long made it the
sanctuary of deer, roe, and every kind of wild game. The
rapidity with which the river comes down, the impassable
height to which it rises in an incredibly short time, its in-
certitude and fury, would render it an object of care to
bold forders and boatmen ; but with the peasants of the
" laich," unaccustomed, like the Highlanders, to wrestle
with a mountain torrent, and, excepting in rare instances,
unable to swim or manage a coble, it inspires a dread, al-
most amounting to awe, and none except ourselves ventured
to keep a boat above the fishing-station of Slui. Pent within
a channel of rocks from fifty to a hundred and eighty feet
in height, the rise of the water is rapidly exaggerated by
the incapability of diffusion ; and the length of its course
sometimes concealing beyond the horizon the storms by
which it is swelled at its source, its floods then descend
with unexpected violence. Frequently when, excepting a
low wreath upon Beann-Drinechain, the sun is shining in
a cloudless sky, and the water scarce ripples over the
glittering ford, a deep hollow sound—a dull approaching
roar may be heard in the gorges of the river ; and almost
before the wading fisherman can gain the shore, a bank of
water, loaded with trees, and rocks, and wreck, will come
down three—four—five feet abreast—sweeping all before it
in a thunder of foam and ruin. In ordinary cases, after
two days of rain, the stream will rise twenty or thirty feet
—it has risen nearly ten fathoms in its rocky gulf; and
once upon this occasion it mounted fifteen feet in a quarter
of an hour. When the dawn broke, it appeared sweeping
through the trees, which-the evening before hung fifty
feet above its brink—a black roaring tempest loaded with
ruins and debris, from which were seen to rise at times the
white skeletons of trees peeled of their bark, beams and
couples of houses—a cart—a door—a cradle, hurrying and
tilting through the foam and spray, like the scattered " float-
some" of a wreck.—Stuarts' Lays of the Deer Forest, kc.
A SHIP AMONG ICEBERGS.—It is impossible to convey
a correct idea of the beauty, the magnificence, of some
of the scenes through which we passed. Thousands of
the most grotesque, fanciful, and beautiful icebergs and
icefields surrounded us on all sides, intersected by numer-
ous serpentine canals, which glittered in the sun (for the
weather was fine all the time we were in the straights) like
threads of silver twining round ruined palaces of crystal.
The masses assumed every variety of form and size, and
many of them bore such a striking resemblance to cathe-
drals, churches, columns, arches, and spires that I could
almost fancy we had been transported to one of the float-
ing cities of fairyland. The rapid motion, too, of our
ship, in what appeared a dead calm, added much to the
magical effect of the scene. A light but steady breeze
urged her along, with considerable velocity,' through a
maze of ponds and canals, which, from the immense
quantity of ice that surrounded them, were calm and
unruffled as the surface of a mill-pond. Not a sound
disturbed the delightful stillness of nature, save the
gentle rippling of the vessel's bow, as she sped on
her way, or the occasional puffing of a lazy whale,
awakened from a nap by our unceremonious intrusion on
his domains. Now and then, however, my reveries were
disagreeably interrupted by the ship coming into sudden
contact with large lumps of ice. This happened occa-
sionally when we arrived at the termination of one of
those natural canals through which we passed, and found
it necessary to force our way into the next. These con-
cussions were sometimes very severe, and even made the
ship's bell ring ; but we heeded this little, as the vessel
was provided with huge blocks of timber on her bows,
called ice-pieces, and was besides built expressly for sail-
ing in the northern seas. It only became annoying at
meal-times, when a spoonful of soup would sometimes
make a little private excursion of its own, over the
shoulder of the owner instead of into his mouth. As
we proceeded, the ice became more closely packed, and at
last compelled us to bore through it. The ship, however,
was never altogether detained, though much retarded. I
recollected, while thus surrounded, filling a bucket with
water from a pool of ice, to see whether it was fresh or
not, as I had been rather sceptical upon this point. It
was excellent, and might almost compete with the water
from the famous spring of Crawley.—Ballatyne's Hud-
son's Bay.
AN ENCOUNTER ON THE PRAIRIE.—No enemies
showed themselves as yet, and the hunters proceeded
quietly up the river, vast herds of buffaloes darkening the
plains around them, affording them more than abundance
of the choicest meat; but, to their credit be it spoken, no

more was killed than was absolutely required,—unlike
the cruel slaughter made by most of the white travellers
across the plains, who wantonly destroy these noble ani-

mals, not even for the excitement of sport, but in cold-
blooded and insane butchery. La Bonte had practice
enough to perfect him in the art, and before the buffalo
range was passed, he was ranked as a first-rate hunter.
One evening he had left the camp for meat, and was
approaching a band of cows for that purpose, crawling
towards them along the bed of a dry hollow in the prairie,
when he observed them suddenly jump away towards him,
and immediately after a score of mounted Indians appeared
in sight, whom, by their dress, he at once knew to be
Pawnees and enemies. Thinking they might not discover
him, he crouched down in the ravine ; but a noise behind
causing him to turn his head, he saw some five or six
advancing up the bed of the dry creek, whilst several
lig on the bluffs. The cunning savages

more were r

had cut off his retreat to his mule, which he saw in the
possession of one of the Indians. His presence of mind,
however, did not desert him ; and seeing at once that to
remain.where he was would be like being caught in a trap,
(as the Indians could advance to the edge of the bluff
and shoot him from above,) he made for the open prairie,
determined at least to sell his scalp dearly, and make " a
good fight." With a yell the Indians charged, but
halted when they saw the sturdy trapper deliberately
kneel, and, resting his rifle on the wiping-stick, take a
steady aim as they advanced. Full well the Pawnees
know, to their cost, that a mountaineer seldom pulls his
trigger without sending a bullet to the mark ; and, certain
that one at least must fall, they hesitated to make the
onslaught. Steadily the white retreated with his face to
the foe, bringing the rifle to his shoulder the instant that
one advanced within shot, the Indians galloping round,
firing the few guns they had amongst them at long dis-
tances, but without effect. One young " brave," more
daring than the rest, rode out of the crowd, and dashed
at the hunter, throwing himself from the saddle, and
hanging over the opposite side of his horse,—present-
ing no other mark than his left foot, —discharged
his bow from under the animal's neck, and with such
good aim, that the arrow, whizzing through the air,
struck the stock of La Bont6's rifle, which was at his
shoulder, and, glancing off, pierced his arm, inflicting,
luckily, but a slight wound. Again the Indian turned in
his course, the others encouraging him with loud war
whoops, and once more passing at still less distance, drew
his arrow to the head. This time, however, the eagle eye
of the white caught sight of the action, and suddenly
rising from his knee as the Indian was approaching, hang.
ing by his foot alone over the opposite side of the horse,
he jumped towards the animal with outstretched arms
and a loud yell, causing it to start so suddenly, and
swerve from its course, that the Indian lost his foot-hold,
and, after in vain struggling to regain his position, fell to
the ground : but instantly rose upon his feet and gallantly
confronted the mountaineer, striking his hand upon his
brawny chest and shouting a loud whoop of defiance.
In another instant the rifle of La Bonte bad poured forth
its contents ; and the brave Indian, springing in to the
air, fell dead to the ground, just as the other trappers,
who had heard the firing, galloped up to the spot, at
sight of whom the Pawnees, with yells of disappointed
vengeance, hastily retreated.—Blackwood.