File:The hunter and the trapper in North America; or, Romantic adventures in field and forest. From the French of Bénédict Révoil (1875) (14563528527).jpg

Identifier: huntertrapperinn75rv (find matches)
Title: The hunter and the trapper in North America ; or, Romantic adventures in field and forest. From the French of Bénédict Révoil
Year: 1875 (1870s)
Authors: Révoil, Bénédict Henry, 1816-1882 Adams, W. H. Davenport (William Henry Davenport), 1828-1891
Subjects: Hunting Game and game-birds
Publisher: London, New York : T. Nelson and Sons
Contributing Library: Harold B. Lee Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University

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eyes, soongrowing accustomed to it, distinguished the boughs of thetree as plainly as if they were outlined upon an illumin-ated horizon. *^ Now, exclaimed the opossum-hunter, the animal isours ! Look above you, near that knotty branch whichis curved like a bent arm; do you see a black objectmoving ? What may it heV^ And, at the same instant, a rifle-shot brought down atour feet an enormous branch, which the negro picked up,his sides shaking with violent laughter. What a blockhead I am! cried our hunter, as he re-loaded his gun. Paying no attention to the grimaces of his negro, or tothe smile which hovered on my lips, he again examinedvery carefully the branches of the tree. Twice more didhe discharge his rifle without result; but the fourth time,a prolonged howl, similar to that of a pig, uttered by theobject which fell in front of us, was followed by a re-sounding hurrah. An enormous opossum was strugglingin convulsions of agony ; and the negro, delicately taking 74 HOMEWARD BOUND.
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he again examined very carefully the branches of the tree. it up by the tail, rekindled his torch with a brand fromthe flickering fire, to light us on our way home, where, COLONEL CROCKETT. 75 seated around a well-spread board, and stimulated bysome glasses of excellent wine, we congratulated theskilful inventor of the opossum-hunt upon his importantdiscovery. During a residence in Philadelphia, in 1845, I becameacquainted with that celebrated ^^ original, Colonel DavidCrockett, whom his compatriots had raised to the rankof commander of the national guard of that city. Thisthorough American, among other manias, cherished thenotion that he was a second Eobin Hood. He was wontto assert that he never drew his trigger without hittinghis mark. Hair or feather, nothing escaj^ed his eagleeye. One of his friends, introducing me on a certain eveningto the Philadelphian Nimrod, said, in his presence,— ^^ You see our good friend David? Well, his accuracyof sight is such, that when he goes hunt

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