Perry Point, [Miss.] Dec. 3. 1833.
Mr. Editor:
The wild bull inhabits the forests of Washitaw, which lie on the West side of the Mississippi river, extending from the territory of Arkansas into the state of Louisiana-three hundred miles in length, from the North to South, and one hundred miles in width, from East to West. The wild track of the hunter, and no other strikes the Washitaw river in the midst of this primeval forest, flowing in solitary grandeur, from its source, above the Hot Springs, in Arkansas, to its mouth at the Black river. The forest stretches one hundred miles below Red river, into the state of Louisiana.
The wild bull of the woods is never to be seen in the fields or prairies. His progenitors, for several generations-if not forever-have been bred in the forest. Unlike the tame bulls, they are all of a deep color, and the cows generally of a dark iron grey. This fact makes the hunters think that they are not descended from the same stock as the tame bull, but are a distinct variety of the same species. It is not my object to settle but merely to suggest, this doubt. Perhaps wild animals, when domesticated, assume a variety of colors, which they have not in a state of nature. Color makes the only perceptible difference between them and the tame bull, except what is produced by their wild habits. They are almost as shy and fleet as the deer, and have bottom to stand a long chase; and when overtaken, defend themselves against the hunters and the dogs. The dogs, by themselves, are never a match for a bull; and seldom attack, but hold him at bay until the hunter shoots him. This sport is dangerous; for, if the hunter wounds the bull, or his rifle misses fire, the bull rushes at him, and the dogs that attempt to arrest him are scattered and frequently killed.
The manner of hunting the wild bull cannot be better explained, than by stating the particulars of a hunt that took place near the Washitaw river. At sunrise, in the month of November, 1830, Mr. Strong started on a hunt in the forest, with three companions, neither of whom had ever seen a wild bull, and to gratify their curiosity, he imprudently agreed to go with them. They were on horseback, and armed with rifles. Their pack consisted of about a dozen dogs-not any distinct breed, but selected on account of their ferocity. They had not proceed far before they discovered fresh tracts of a bull, and put the dogs on the trail. After they had pursued about three miles, at speed, it was acertained by the barking of the dogs, that they had the bull at bay. The hunters then dismounted, and, leaving their horses in charge of one person, the rest proceeded to the spot on foot. When they came up, they saw the bull facing the dogs, with the cover of green briars in his rear. The timid companions of Mr. Strong-quailing at the fierce looks and threatening horns of the bull; could not be prevailed upon to approach within point blank shot of the enraged beast. Mr. Strong proceeded alone, keeping a tree betwixt him and the bull- who kept his eye fixed on Mr. Strong all the time he approached, as if expecting a salute from his gun; as soon as he felt the sting of the wound, bounded directly at the smoke of the powder, scattered as he went, the pack of dogs that rushed betwixt him and their master as if they had been a swarm of flies. Mr. Strong called in vain upon his companions to fire. They were to far off and would have been afraid to do it if they had been nearer, knowing that the bull always turns on the last gun that is discharged. In the meantime, some of the dogs were crushed beneath his hoofs, and others that came near his head, were thrown among the lower limbs of the trees. Several of them were off the ground in the same instant, going up and down like the balls of a juggler. The dogs were scattered, and before Mr. Strong could reload the piece, the enraged bull was upon him; but he avoided his horns several times by dodging round a tree. Whilst Mr.. Strong and the bull were thus desperately engaged, the dogs rallied again in defense of their master. One of the best dogs attempted to seize the bull by the nose; but unfortunately missed his hold, and the bull instantly catching him betwixt the points of his horns and the ground, ran him through and tossed him up, as if he had been hurled from an engine. Mr. Strong found time, during the second contest between the dogs and the bull, to make his escape to a large tree that lay near him, blown down by the wind; and walked out on the end of the horizontal limbs, a few feet from the ground. He was obliged to stand on the limb. It was so low that if he had straddled it the bull could have reached him. The bull ran to and fro under him, whilst he fairly balanced on a shaking limb, knowing that instant death awaited his fall. Presence of mind is the last thing a hunter loses; and Mr. Strong, in this perilous situation, managed to reload his gun, and firing down on the bull, as he passed under, broke his back near his hips. This shot brought his hinder parts to the ground; but he propped up his fore parts by planting his forefeet before him, and held up his head fiercely at his destroyer, roaring with rage and pain. He fired another ball in his forehead, and the dying bull dropped his awful front to the earth.
Mr. Strong next called his cowardly companions, who were still afraid to come near the bull; but, having satisfied themselves that he had sunk to the deep sleep that knows no waking, they began to handle and admire his curly head and pointed horns, which a few minutes before, they had feared to look upon.