out of mind, cherries, plums, wild grape (the Mustang), berries, haws,
persimmon, nuts of many kinds grow wherever there was plentiful water.
The bellowing of alligators, wailing howls of wolves, sad whistling of
whipporwills, mourning of doves, raincrows call of dooms-day, hooting of
the many varieties of owls added horror to the dark of night and the
too-frequent spells of gloominess the women felt in the new country.
Indians ate the alligators, as some Negroes learned to do, but it was in
extreme want that the averege settler found it necessary to tackle one
of the hideous beasts of the river and swamp land. The story handed down
to this day tells of a very large family of Negroes living on the bank
of the Brazos de Doos whose children had to be counted ever so often to
keep up with the unbelievable number. Mose came home from the field one
day to a perplexed Vincy. "Mose, you see two little boys 'bout so tall
down that south field today?" "Naw, but las' count they did seem to be
two gone." "Lawdy me, them gators done come up from the ribber
'gain...I been sayin' to myself somethin' been goin wid uses chillun."
And the fact remained the alligators of the Texas rivers did devour
unwary human beings, be they small or large. The native abundance of
good things was in some degree offset by the terrors of wild things, the
maurading Indians, the rattlesnakes whose bite was deadly unless
immediate and accurate care was taken of the unfortunate person
suffering from their venom. The story has been told of how many men who
were alone when bitten had the forethought to take an always kept-sharp
Bowie knife and cut a cross at the fang prints deep enough to cause
abundant bleeding....or to cut and suck the venom, being careful not to
swallow the blood so contaminated. In case the bite was in a place the
person was unable to reach with his mouth he could split open an animal
and wrap the hot bodied animal about the cut place to draw out the
poison....the best thing to use was a chicken the old folks said. One
woman told me of her father,at the time of the telling dead these 40
years...and he had lived to be ninety...who was bitten one early morning
as he came from the barn with a big bucket of hot fresh-milked milk.
He cut the place on his ankle where the snake's fangs had pierced,
plunged his leg into the milk and watched gallons of milk turn green as
warmth drew the poison from his veins. He never saw a doctor and lived
30 years after the incident.
A good meal for the migrants, as many have recalled, was venison or bear
steaks sopped in honey, cornbread in the form of hoecake or fried mush.
Pelts of any animals passed as their principal medium of exchange. As
domestic animals were scarce the man who owned any species was called by
the name of the snimal...Cow Cameron, Hog Conner wore not unusual
nicknames.
Mustang ponies were often eaten especially when there was a large
contingent to be fed and time was scarce. A man from South Carolina was
using 100 slaves in a clearing gang to cut at underbrush and dead timber
from the Brazos Bottom land he was improving. For the first year this
gang was fed entirely on mustang pony. With the coming of the first
corn crop the nest spring the bill of fare changed...for corn appeared
in many forms; breads, mush, hominy, grits, fresh on the cob, cut and
fried in ham grease....corn was the settlers staple of diet.
Ann Cavitt and her people experienced all the pioneer ways, but with one
advantage--there was sufficient money on hand, provided by her late
husband before they set out on his well planned exodus from Tennessee.
Ann had the gift of managing to make a home of whatever presented itself
as a dwelling--borrowed roof-tree-log house-or the big white three story
home so long a building. She organized her life and planned the work so
things moved smoothly.
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The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched.
It must be felt with the heart.
Helen Keller
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Last Blue Promise...Poetry and Links to All my Web Sites
http://www.fortunecity.com/bally/meath/45/index.html
...It is in silence where music lies...
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Listowner CARRINGTON and CAVITT surnames
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