Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 1 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian CollectionCatlin, George
History
Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 1 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian Collection
Catlin, George
England -- Description and travel; France -- Description and travel; Indians of North America
keep the hatches down, for the bruins are sick of the scene, and pawing
about for a burrow in the ground, and will have the hatches up in a
moment if you don't look to them. Where's Catlin?" "We don't know," was
the reply from many mouths; "he is not in the cabin."
"Will, here, Misther Captain, yer honour, I'll till ye," said a poor
fellow, who in the general fright and flight had tumbled himself by
accident into the cabin, and observed sullen silence until the present
moment; "I'll jist till ye--I saw Misther Cathlin (I sippose he's the
jintleman that owns the bastes) and his mon Dan (for I've known Dan for
these many a long year in ould Amiriky, and I now he has chargin o' the
bears on board); I saw the two, God bliss them, when the bastes was
about gettin their hinder parts out of the cage, stannin on the side
jisth before 'em, Misther Cathlin with his double-barrel gun, and his
mon Dan pointin at 'em in the face, with a pistol in each hand; and
this was jist whin I heard they were outh, and I jimped down here jist
in the wrong place, as I am after observin when it is too late, and I
hope there is no offence to your honour."
"Catlin's gone then," said the captain; "he is swallowed!"
The captain was at his post again, the hatches closed, and in the midst
of dozing, and praying, and singing (and occasionally the hideous
howlings of the grizlies whenever a wave made a breach over the deck
of the vessel) was passed away that night of alarm and despair, until
the rays of the morning's sun having chased away the mist and assuaged
the fury of the storm, had brought all hands together on the deck, and
in the midst of them the cheerful face of our good captain; and in
their huge cage, which had been driven from one side of the deck to the
other, but now adjusted, sitting upon their haunches, with the most
jaded and humiliating looks imaginable, as they gazed between their
iron bars, their two grizly majesties, who had hurt nobody during the
night, nor in all probability had meditated anything worse or more
sinful than an escape, if possible, from the imprisonment and danger
they considered themselves unfortunately in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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