"Just as the Virginian was levelling his pistol for a third shot, our attention was arrested by the stunning clamour, which has only to be heard once to be remembered for ever, of the Comanche war-whoop!"-Page 191.

THE ROMANCE

OF

FOREST AND PRAIRIE LIFE.

CHAPTER I.

AUDUBON THE HUNTER-NATURALIST.

The author's early ideas of Audubon and his labours-Enthusiasm for similar pursuits-First meeting with Audubon-His appearance, character, and history-His great works-Alexander Wilson and Audubon-Their respective positions as naturalists-Audubon and "Christopher North."

WELL do I remember the hold the name of Audubon took upon my young imagination when I heard the fragmented rumour from afar, that there was a strange man abroad, who lived in the wilderness with only his dog and gun, and did nothing day by day but follow up the birds; watching every thing they might do; keeping in sight of them all the time, wherever they went, while light lasted; then sleeping beneath the tree where they perched, to be up and follow them again with the dawn, until he knew every habit and way that belonged to them. That when he was satisfied, he would shoot them in some manner so as not to tear their plumage, and

B

then sitting down on the mossy roots of an oak, and with nobody to criticise him but his wise-looking dog, and the squirrel that stamped and scolded at him from the limbs above, would draw such marvellous pictures of birds as the world never saw before!

Oh! what a happy, happy being that strange man must be, I used to think; and what a strong and brave one, too, to sleep out among the panthers and wild cats, where the Indian whoop was heard-trusting only to his single arm and his faithful dog. I loved to speculate about that dog. He must be larger than my dog "Milo," I thought, and just about as gentle and true, but a little more knowing. How I envied him the happiness of such a master and such a life!

As for the master, what magical conjurations of a charmed fancy I loved to associate with him! He must be noble and good, and wear such lofty calmness upon his brow. I had an idea of physical perfection, and below it could not bear to conceive that so heroic a philosopher could fall.

What a martyr-spirit his must be; and what a daring enthusiasm leads him on through tangled swamps, where the cougar yelled, alligators roared, and hideous serpents parted, with their wavy spotted lengths, the green scum of stagnant pools; up difficult mountains, where the rattle-snake sprung its deadly alarum amidst the mossy fissures of the crumbling stones, and the eagle whetted its hooked beak upon the crag-points; or beneath the profound shadows of primeval forests, where the few sunbeams that straggled through at noonday looked like gold dust scattered over the black earth -down the destructive flood of mighty rivers, or beside crystal lakes set in a columnar rim of giant cypresses; on the sky-bounded ocean-heaved prairies, or where the green and glinting icebergs thundered clashingly against