Decatur Eagle, Volume 2, Number 37, Decatur, Adams County, 22 October 1858 — Page 1

111 E DEC A 1 R EA-G LE s

VOL. 2.

THE EAGLE. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, DY PHILLIPS & SPENCER, Office, on Main Street, in the old School House, one Square North of J. & P Crabs' Store. Terms of Subscription : For one year, $1 50, in advance; $1 75, within ( the year, and $2 00 after the year lias expired. - i£j“No paper will be discontinued until all arrerages are paid, except at the option of the 1 Publishers. Terms of Advertising: One square, (ten lines) three insertions, $1 00 Each subsequent insertion, 25 O’No advertisement will be considered less than one square; over one square will be counted and charged as two; over two, as three, etc. JOB PRINTING: We are prepared to do all kinds of job-work, n a neat and workmanlike manner, on the most reasonable terms. Our material fortlie completion of Job-Work, being new and of the latest styles, and we feel confident that satisfaction can be given. LOVE’S MEMORY. When Luna's midnight beams Through myopen casement fall, Awakening me from dreams 1 would again recall; And wings unseen vibrate the air, My fancy whispers thou art there! When morning shows its gold, Unveiled afresh from night; And azure skies have told Os i in measurable height, And flowers glisten of the lea; All Earth’s beauty speaks of thee! Through aisles, high-arched and grand, Os forest’s silent ways: Or on the pebbly strand, If my pensite footstep strays; I love to think the by my side, — Mv Isabel! my angel bride! I see thy radient face, E'en brighter than it shown In its queenly girlhood grace, In hours gone—long gone! And with such charms around me thrown, How hardly can I think the flown! In even's'soft return, When Nature sings of rest, And starry lanterns burn * In Ether's far-off crest; Mv pinioned thoughts delight to rise Towards thy bow'r in .Paradise! To a Dead Maiden. Oh! thou pale sleeper, awake from thy trance — Cheer our sad hearts by thy bright, loving glance Too sweet thy face to lie under the mound, Too fair thy form to sleep in the cold ground. Beautiful clay! tho’ thou soon must be laid In the dark grave, ’neath the sad cypress’shade One who is nielCiful, even as just, Still will watch over thee, guarding thy dust. The value of a good joke depends on who utters it. The joke of the host is certain to be laughed at; while that of the poor relation is not listened to. AH who have meditated on the art of governing mankind have heen convinced that the fate of empires depends on the education of youth Mons. Goddard, the aeronaut, has challenged Prof. Steiner of Philadelphia, to race with balloons at Cincinnati —the balloon going the fathers distance to be declared winner. In the year 1700, ten clergyman met at Branford, each one bringing a few books under his arm. Placing these on the table in Parson Russell’s study, each said solemnly, ‘I give these books for the founding of a college in this colony.’ A century and a half have gone by, and Yale College counts its graduates by thousands, and this was it foundation. A rather plain spoken clergyman once took for his text this passage in the Psalms; ‘I said in my haste, all men are liars.’ ■Looking up apparently, as if he saw the Psalmist standing immediately before him he said: 'You said so in haste, did you, David? AVell, if you had been here, you might have said it after mature reflection’ It is better to yield a little than quarrel R great deal. The habit of standing up as people call it, for their (little) rights is one of the most disagreeable and undignified in the world. It is better to lose somewhat of our precious rights, in this day of small things, than squabble to Maintain them. A New York farmer has tried the’cultivation of wheat in hills two feet apart each w ay like corn and with great success. He raised two or three plants to the bill, and obtained at the enormous rate of two hundred bushels to the acie.

THE LION HUNT. Before entering into a description of, the mode of chase adopted with regard to this formidable anima], we may give the reader some insight into the make and character of the lion, and more particular the lion of A trica. The lion, which is usually considered the strongest of the cat kind, is generally distinguished by its uniform yellow color, the tuft at the end of the tail; and the mane covering the Lead and shoulders of the male. Cuvier says that it is the most courageous of the animals of prey; and he adds, that one time, over all the parts [ ot the ancient world, it would appear at, the present day that it is nearly confined i to Africa and some neighboring parts of Asia. The ‘King of the Forest,’ as applied to ■ the lion, appears to be ajmisnomei: for it, is an animal that is never met except on the plains, and generally in the deserts. 1 The parts where it seeks shelter seem not in any case to be the forest, but the low cover that creeps along the sides of rivers the patches that mark the springs or the rank grass of tire valley. Os the strength of the African lion 1 many extraordinary stories are on record. It is a feat of no difficulty to this powerful brute to carry of a man; of this horri- 1 ble fact, there are many dismal accounts. A lion of the Cape of Good Hope or of Senegal will seize a heifer in his mouth, and though the legs drag along the ground carry her off with the same ease that a cat does a rat, leaping over a broad dyke with her without the least apparent effort. It will convey a horse a mile from the spot where he has killed it. On one occasion a lion that had carried off a twoyear old heifer was followed on the track or spoor, for five hours by horsemen, when it appeared that throughout the whole distance the carcass of the heifer was only once or t wice discovered to have touched the ground After such demonstrations of strength the asportations of man sink into insignificance; and there is lan idea prevailing in Africa that the huj man race is the favorite prey of the lion. ■ Travelers, however, assert that the general prey of the African lion are the larger herbivorous quadrupeds, and that there are very few of them that it cannot master. It is, consequently, a severe scouige to the farmers, who are ever on the look out for his approach in a search after their cows and horses, oxen and sheep. If they have the good fortune to see him coming, he will, in nine cases out ten, slink back and walk off quietly; and if no cover is near and he is not pursued, he gradually mends his pace to a trot, till he has reached a considerable distance, and then he bounds away. The demeanor of lions on such occasions is of a careless disposition, as if they did not want a fray, but if pressed, are ready to fight it out. If they are pursued closely, they turn and couch, gcneralllv with their faces to the adversary; then the nerves of the sportsman are tried. If he is collected and master of his craft, the well-directed rifle ends the scenes at once but if in the flutter of the moment, the vital parts are missed, or the ball passes by, leaving the lion unhurt, the infuriated beast frequently charges on his enemies, dealing destruction around him. This, I however, is not always the case, and a i steady unshrinking deportment has, in more instance than one, saved the life of , the hunter. Indeed a timely recover of self-posses-sion has saved a man when, seized with panic, he has fled and been pursued by a \ lion. Oneday, a Dutchman, Jacob Kok of Zee-hoe-river, at tho Cape of Good Hope 1 walking over his lands with a loaded gun i unexpectedly met a lion. Being an exi cellent shot, and a cool sportsman who ! seldom failed of using his rifle with effect, 'he thought himself pretty certain from i the possition in which he was, of killing : it, and therefore fired his piece. Unfortunately he did not recollect that the I charge had been in it for some time, and I consequently was damp; so that his piece I hung tire, and the ball falling short, en- ; tered the ground close to the lion. In I consequence of this the worthy Dutchman was seized with a panic, and took di- , rectly to his heels; but being soon out of breath and closely pursued by the lion, Jacob Kok jumped upon a little heap of I stones and there made a stand, presenting the butt end of his gun to his adversary, fully resolved to defend his life as well as he could to the utmost. This deportment had such an effect upon his pursuer, that the lion also made a stand, and lay down at the distance of a few paces j from the heap of stones, seemingly quite■ unconcerned. Jacob, in the mean time, did not stir from the spot; besides he had in his flight unfortunately dropped bis powder-horn. At length after waiting a good half hour the lion rose up, and at first went very slowly, and step by step only, as if he had a mind to steal off; but •is soon as he got to a greater distance, to

“Our Country's Good shall ever be our Aim—Willing to Praise and not afraid to Blame.”

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTV, INDIANA. OCT. 22, 1858.

the great relief of Jacob Kok, he began to bound away at a great rate. A traveler gives the tolfowthg interesting account in his ‘Wanderings in Africa,’ of his confronting one of these animals: 'The day was exceedingly pleasant, and there was not a cloud to be seen. For .+ mile or two we traveled along tho banks of the river, which in this part, abounded , in tall mat-rushes. The dogs seemed much to enjoy prowling about, and examining every bushyplace. At last they met with some object among the bushes which caused them to set up a most vehement and determined barking. We OXpiOFfat] th-6 sprtt with ra.nHAn. no we suspected from the peculiar tone of their bark, that it was what we found it out to I be—lions. ‘Having encouraged the dogs to drive them out—a task which they performed ' with great unwillingness—we had a full view of an enormous black-tailed lion and lioness. The latter was seen only for a minute, as she made her escape up the river, under concealment of the rushes: but the lion came steadily forward, and stood still to look at us. At this moment we felt our situation not free from danger, as the animal seemed preparing to spring upon us, and we were standing on the bank at the distance of only a few yards from him, most of us being on foot and unarmed without any visible possibility of escaoing. 1 had given up my horse to the hunters, and was on foot myself; but there was no time for fear, and it was useless to attempt avoiding him.

I stood well upon my gvard, holding ! my pistols in my hand, with my finger I upon the trigger; and those who had muskets kept themselves prepared in the same 1 i manner. But at this instant the dogs boldly flew 1 i in between us and the lion, and surroundi him kept him at bay by their violent and . resolute barking. Thu courage of these' I faithful animals was most admirable: | I they advanced up to the side of the huge i beast, and stood making the greatest i clamor in his face without the least ap--1 pearance of fear. The lion conscious of I his strength, remained unmoved at their i' noisy attempts, and kept his head turned j towards us. At one moment the dogs I perceiving his eye thus engaged, had ad-; j vanced close to his feet, and seemed as if i they would actually seize hold of him; ' but they paid dearly for their imprudence 1 i for, without discomposing the majestic I I and lofty attitude in which he stood fixed i he merely moved his paw, and at the [ i next instant I beheld two lying dead. In doing this he made so little < xertion ' ! that it was scarcely perceptible by what I means they had been killed Os the time which we gained by the in- ; ; teference of the dogs, not a moment was [lost. We fired upon him: one of the: ( balls went through his side, just between ' I his short ribs, and the blood began to! ' flow; but the animal still remained stand-' ing in the same position. AA e bad now, | no doubt that he would spring upon ns—every gun was instantly reloaded: but. ; happily we were mistaken, and were not i sorry to see him move quietly away, ! ■ though I had hoped in a few minutes to I have been enabled to take hold of his paw | i without danger.’ There is hardly a book of African trav- | els which does not teem with the dangers and hair breadth escapes of the lion hun- 1 ters; and hardly one that does not include j a fatal issue to some engaged in this haz- , ardous sport. AVe give the following details of a lion hunt from the note-book of a traveler: ‘AVe at length arrived on the the confines of an immeasurable deseit—an im- ■ mense plain, extending like an ocean.— Not a tree —nor a shrub—nor a blade of 1 grass, was to be seen; but all appeared , j like an extieme fine sand, mixed with I gold dust and little sparkling pearls. As we proceeded on our way over this inhospitable plain, exposed to the perpendicular rays of the burning sun, we came I to an oasis of groves and woods, and I through the carpet of virdue rolled a rivulet. °Here a lion, which had been crou-' : cbing among the reeds which bordered, this stream, sprang upon one of our company; luckily for the man he missed him, for if he had succeeded in flying upon him be would have torn him to pieces; but knowing that lie had no hope of safety , but by flight, fled accordingly. But being very unlike the liger he went off slowly, and in a very sullen manner, giving us t time to mount our noises; and one of the ; party firing at him, struck him with a ball. He, thereupon, began exhibiting great , boldness, standing as if preparing to resist us. A Frenchman, infinitely more coura- ' geous than he was strong, or expert in the chase, made an attack upon him with i n lance, which he broke, and would infallibly have been torn and killed, had it not ; been for a slave, who seeing his danger, I came promptly to his succour, and pierced I with a blow of Ins dagger, the lion alrca- , d\ wounded by his innslcr.’

Os all the games in Africa and the East 1 the hunting of the lion is infinitely the most dangerous kind of sporting. About [ a hundred years ago it was the most roy-; ‘al, because there was then none but the ! | king and princes that could exercise it, lex'-pt by a very particular leave. Alien Hie king was in the field, and i the bunting guards had discovered the i place of the lion’s retirement, they tied ■ fast an ass in the neighborhood, which I the lion soon came to devour; and after q having partaken largely of the animal, j returned to his ordinary lodging place, T'ierehe lay down and slept until next jAinttig, when he fuu»a <■.=« ; n ' the same place. When the king’s hun- ' ting guards had thus baited and amused i him for several days, they tied fast anoth- 1 er ass, which they had made swallow a quantity of opium, in order that his flesh I mighf lull the lion asleep, and then all ■the people in the villages round about' I spread large and strong nets. All things being thus prepared, the king mounted lon an elephant trapped in iron, attended : by his great hunting master —abundance , or men on horseback— and a numerous I hunting guard on foot, approached the ! nets, and shot at the lion with a Great O | ; musket. Finding himself wounded, the lion rushed, of course, towards the ele- ■ phant, but met with the big nets which , stopped him. The king then shot at him till he killed him. Such was the mode of hunting the lien ' in India a hundred years ago; but now there is no particular privilege attached to the shooting of it, and the English residents are its commonest assailants.

| As an instance of this, we give the following interesting description of a lion j J hunt near Kaira in Bombay. Some sporting gentlemen of that place ’ being informed that three lions had been ' discovered in a small jungle two miles from Beereije, immediate preparations were made to assemble a large party, and ! Co proceed to chase them from thence. Intermediately, accounts were received that the size and ferocity of the animals had struck a panic into the adjacent vil- ' lages, that six of the natives who had unwarily approached their haunts had I been torn and mangled, and left to expire in the greatest agonies, and that it was no I longer safe Tor the inhabitants to proceed I I to the ordinary occupations of husbandry , jor to turn out their cattle to pasture, as -several of them had been bunted down j ’ and killed. These accounts only stimulated the I British Nimrods; and a party of sixteen ' j gentlemen having assembled, proceeded 1 jto the scene of action accompanied by a body of armed peons from the Adaulet I and revenue departments. The guides I took them to the precise spot where the I three lions were reposing in state. The I party advanced with due caution to with,in a few paces of the jungle without disturbing the residents. A momentary ' pause, big with expectation succeeded. At that instant, three dogs which bad joined the hunt, unconscious of danger, I I approached the very threshold of the preI sencc, and were received with such a se- j pulchral growl, as for the moment made ! ‘the bravest hold his breath.’ One of the dot's was killed, the other two fled and ■ were seen no more. I Presently a lioness was indistinctly ob- ' served at the mouth of the den; a few arrows were discharged with a view to irriI tate her, and induce her to make an ati lack upon her assailants, but this did not ! succeed, as she broke cover in an opposite direction, with two cubs about twoi thirds grown. The party pursued the fu- : gitives on foot as far as the nature of the ' ground, which was newly plowed, would 1 admit; when suddenly one of the men who had been stationed in the trees called ; out to the gentlemen to be on their guard. They turned on one side to some hights, 1 when they descried an enormous lion ap- ' proaching them through an open field at an easy canter, and lashing his tail in a - style of indescribable grandeur. The foremost of the party presented their pieces and fired, just as the animal, had cleared at one bound, a chasm which ■ was between them ot twelve feet broad. 1 He was apparently wounded on the shoul der, but sprang, nevertheless, on a gentleman whose arm he lacerated dreadfully; and feeling at the same time, a peon’s j lance, he relinquished his first hold, seized the poor fellow by the throat, and strangled him before they dared fire, lest | they should kill his victim. He was now at bay, but sheltered in such a manner as rendered it difficulty to bring him down, when suddenly the man on the look-out gave another shout of ! alarm, and almost immediately the party perceived a lioness which had broken cover, approaching their rear. The same instant their ears were assailed by the shrieks and yells of men, women and children, occasioned by the: animal crossing the road in the midst of the the coolies that were carrying tiffin to! the village. A. woman and a child were almost instantly sacrificed to her fury.— , i The woman wa literally torn to pieces. <

This proved not the last cnlamnity of this memorable hunt. The gentleman, with the peons, left their former enemy to attack the lioness who threatened the village. The party, from the rapid manner in which the beast was followed, were not able to keep very compact; and most unfortunately, four of the collectors peons advanced upon the place where the lioness had lain down. — the immediately sprang upon the nearest and brought him to the ground, crushing skull and tearing his face, so that no feature was discernable and the skin literally hung in the wind. A companion who mlvanei'il to his assistance was seized bv the thigh; in the ngonv of pain lie caught the beast by the throat, when she quitted his thigh and fastened on bis arm arid breast. At this moment the gentlemen advanced within fifteen paces, and as she was still standing over her unfortunate victim, lodged twenty balls in her body, She retreated to the hedge, where some more shots terminated her existence. She had abundance of milk, which, from the novelty, most ot the party tasted. Both of tire peoos died within a few hours. Ary Cat Lost. Among all the stories which have been published regarding ‘blowing out the gas,’ the following is about as good as any of them: A young man from a gasless territory, who staid with a relation in the city, and who retired after blowing out the gas, which fortunately had not a full head ou, next morning at breakfast he shrewdly asked his cousin if they hadn’t lust a cat lately.

‘Certainly not; why?’ ‘Well, then,’ was the reply, ‘l’m drot- : ted es I know what it kin be. But there is the darndest old smell in-my room you ever did smell —and that’s a fact. 1 got' up twice in the night i xplooterated round I but could’t find nothing, and this mornin I had another hunt, and so concluded the cat must have got in some where between the petitions and expired — Just you go up with cousin Mary and ‘ sm—ell.’ They did as requested, and nearly exI pired when the true cause of the perfu- ! | mery manifested itself to their ‘oily sac-! ■ tories.’ i — He Got His AA’atch.— A merchant at: I New Orleans, while landing from a steam-1 let. accidentally dropped his watch, val- ! ued at <5225, in thirty-two feet deep wa- ! ter. Borrowing a pig of iron and line I from the mate, he tied the pig to the line sunk it beneath the wheel-house, as near-1 as possible where the watch sunk; and ty- ; ing the upper end of the line to a slick of I wood, dropped the stick in the water and 1 left it to float. Early the next morning he came ou board, and diving, brought the. watch up, ‘the first thing. Little Boy—AVhen I get bigger, Mr. 1 [Brown, you’ll let me ride your horse, won’t you. Mr. Brown—AA7hy, Charlie, I haven’t i ' any horse. AVhat makes you think so. Little Boy —AA’hy, I heard mother say I this morning that you had been riding a high horse lately. There is said to be a village out west so . heallhly that people can’t die there, but are obliged to go to the next town if they are tired of living; and there were two men! there who lived to ‘so old’ that they did not know who they were and nobody i could te 1) them. ■You are from the country, are you not sir?’ asked a dandy bookseller of a i home-dressed Quaker, who had given him some trouble. ‘Yes.’ ‘AVell, here’s an essay on the rearing of calves.’ ‘That,’ replied the Quaker as he turn- , ed to leave the shop, ‘thee had better present to thy mother.’ ‘Do you publish matrimonial notices - for the subscribers to your paper?’ said a gentlemanly-looking youth, stepping into our office the other morning. ‘Certainly, sir.’ ‘AVell, then, I’ll go and get marred; for 1 don’t see any other way of getting my name in your paper—since you have ' rejected all my poetic effusions.’ lu the I’hrladelphia Court of Sessions I AVtn. Nixon has been pronunced guilty of; manslaughter for having left his horse 1 and cart standing unattended, in a public [ street, by which negligence a child was killed. The dispatch of Gen. Cass to Gen. Lamar, respecting Nicaraguan affairs, is said to be one of the ablest papers ever sent from the State department. It is supposed that F. T. Hulmau whole-: sale grocer, of Terre Haute was a passen on the illfatc l A ustiia.

Tin- Newspaper. Perhaps there is no department of enterprise, whose details are less understood bv intelligent people, than the art preser vative —the achievements of the types. Every day their lives long they archie customed to read the newspaper, finu fault with its statements, its arrangements, its looks; to clurne themselves upon the discovery of some roguish and acrobatic type that gets in a frolic and stands upon its head, or of some word with a waste letter or two in it; but by the process by which a newspaper is made; of the myriads of motions and the thousands of pieces necessary to its composition, they know little and think less. They imagine they discourse of a wonder, indeed, when they talk of the fine white carpet, woven fur thought to walk on, of the rags that fluttered on the back of the beggar yesterday. But there is to us something there wonderful still.— When we look at the hundred and fifty little boxes somewhat shaded with the touch of inky fingers, that compose the printer’s ‘cases,’ and watch him at his noiseless work; noiseless except the clinking of the types, as one by one, they take their places in the growing line, We think we have found the marvel of art. Strewn in their little boxes are thin parallelograms of metal, every one good fur a single letter, a comma, a hyphen, a something that goes to make up written language-the visible foot prints ot thought upon carpets of rags. We think how many fancies in fragments there in the boxes; how many atoms of poetry and eloquence the printer can pick up here, if he only has a little chart to work by; how many facts in small handfulls; how much truth in chaos.

Now he picks up the scattered elements until he holds in hands a stanza of Gray’s Elegy, or a monody upon Grimes, ‘All buttoned down before.’ Now he ‘sets up’ a puppv missing, and now Paradise Lost; he arrays a bride in ‘small caps,’ and a sonnet in ‘nonpariel;’ be announces that the languishing will ‘live,’ in one sentence, transposes the word, and deplores the days that are few and ‘evil,’ in the next. A poor old jest running down; and a strain of eloquence marches into line, letter by letter. AVe fancy we can tell the difference by the hearing of the ear, but perhaps not. The types that told a wedding yesterday announce a burial to-mor-row: peihaps in the self-same letters.— They are elements to make a world of—those types are; a world with something in it as beautiful as Spring, as rich as Summer, and as grand as Autumn; flowers that frost cannot wilt; fruit that shall ripen for all times. The newspaper has become the log book of the age; it tells at what rate the world is running;—who can find our reckoning without it? True, the grocer may bundle up a pound of candles in our last expressed thoughts, but it is only coming to 'base use,’ as its betters have done, times innumerable. AVe console oursevles by thinking that one can make of that newspaper what he cannot make of the ribs of living oak—a bridge of time.— That he can fling it over dead years, and walk safely over the shadowy sea of the far past. That the singer shall not end his song, nor the true soul be eloquent, u more. The realm of the press is enchanted ground. Sometimes the editor has the happiness of knowing that he has defended the right, exposed the wrong, protected the weak; that he has given utterance to a sentiment that has cheered somebody’s solitary hbur; made somebody happier, kindled a smile upon a sad face or a hope in a heavy heart. He may meet with that sentimem months, years after; it may have lost all traces of its paternity, hut he feels an affection for it. He reads it as for the first time, and wonders if indeed he wrote it, for he has changed since then. Perhaps he could not give utterance to sentiment now; perhaps he would not if he could.— It seems like the voice of his former selfcalling to his present and there is something mournful in its tone. He begins to think, to remember; remembering where he wrote it and why; who were his readers then, and whither they had gone; what was he then, and how much he has changed. So lie muses till he findshimself wondering if that thought of his will continue to float after he is dead and whether he is really looking upon something that shall survive him. And then cotnes the sweet consciousness that there is nothing ifi the sentiment he could wish ha>l been unwritten; that is the better pait wi him; a shred from the garment of the immorality he shall leave behind him, when he joins the ‘innumerable caravan;’ and takes place in the silent hall of death. — Waverly Magazine. A celebrated wit was asked why be did not marry a certain young lady to whom be was much attached: ‘1 know no reason,’ replied he, 'except the qreat regard we have for one arotln. r.’ Every pea helps to till the peck.

NO, 37.