New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1860-04-16

From g nemlock sketches, q III Porter's Spirit


Speaking of his old stone pipe, the writer says:
It's with the exception of frosted toe, the last
"Reminiscences of winters hunt-or rather win
tef's sickness and Imprisonment on the mead waters
of the Muskegon, away up In the northern wilder
ness Of Michigan, near Muskrat Lake, where was
at much trouble and pain to settle myself one Oc-
tober, some seven eight years ago, for the pur.
pose Of hunting and trapping, and from whence l
emerged the following March, by the highest pos
sble squeeze, and with the loss OF all my traps
and good double rife. But for the giver of that
nine should never have seen the clearings again.
he it was, who, when the fever was on me, and
fiercely sought to start on foot through the wilder
ness with the snow three Zee. aeep' restrained ana
cnt wood and brought it on his shoulders through
the deep snow that might not freeze, that might
have warm Hsampa and teai often, when the
been alone ali day, until the lonely gloomy hours
were getting past endurance, have my eyes been
eladdened to tears by the sight of that tall gliding
form as drawing aside the door OF split pine, he
stepped noiseIessy into the cabin came to the pile
| Of skins where i lay weak and emaciated, and
asked in his deep Indian bass, : How do now? g
d Better. much better,'' always told him. Then
| he would rouse up bright fire, get himself and
some supper x the SKINS nlce eE 1or ne night,
turbable gravity, relate every incident that had
1 hanpened to him since morning, not emitting SO
much as the seeing grouse or hare.
No child ever listened to q fairy tale with more
earerness than each night listened to old Z. Indian
Peter,s' account Of the days hunt; it was the one
sociable break in the twentyfour hours of misera-
\ HE monotony and it kept the monotony from be-
coming unbearable. i came to understand old
Peters broken English, and like it too, rather.
Much Of the time in January was delirious, and
| at such times old Peter was always by me. re.
i collect more than one occasion, when rushed oni
Of the cabin to start for home with nothing on my
head. no coat on my back, and my feet nearly
i bare. under the impression lheaven knows how
4 rot it1 that my brother was ten miles down the
river. waiting for me with span of horses and {
4 sleigh Al these times, Peter would grasp mi
firmly. shoulder me as though had been an infant
bring me back to the cabin, lay me gently on th'
4 skins. and say good naturally, Mustn't go TOT
far freeze, biineby spring, go then" It was
good winter for hunting, and old Peters tribe, o
Band rather, did well at it sometimes few o
them would look in on US for an hour or two, AM
thew ALWAYS brought me honey, berries, or som
trifie which they thought might relish. Also
thew had an old squaw from fifty miles distance :
doctor mean operation that one have been anus
+ mo euonrb with somebody else for the patient
How / ionged for spring, for a thaw that shout
clear the river of ice and make canoeing practice
! bic how wildly dreamed OF home every nigh
and scarcely refrained from weeping with disaI
f pointment on waking. s5. -. -
All we'll. it passed-that winter of sickness!
: weaLness and pain. II looks now like deriou
; dream. can at times hardly make it seem ret
without handling The pipe, which old Peter gave m
| when parted from him finally, at Muskegon Bay
i had previously given him my steel traps (fort
odd in nuraber), which he considered fortune b
t themselves, and when the band gathered about til
little, thin, sick, Shemoka man, for a last far
well. / made him rich beyond his hopes by changn
the rifle he loved and had learned To shoot skill
fully with for the old calumet.
i l. r1h = 4