File:Audubon and his journals (1899) (14769668733).jpg

Identifier: audubonhisjourna00audu (find matches)
Title: Audubon and his journals
Year: 1899 (1890s)
Authors: Audubon, John James, 1785-1851 Audubon, Maria Rebecca, 1843-1925 Coues, Elliott, 1842-1899
Subjects: Birds
Publisher: New York, C. Scribner's Sons
Contributing Library: New York Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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lling part way on the steamer Paragon, walked fromthe mouth of the Ohio to Shawnee, and rode the rest of thedistance. On my arrival old Mr. Berthoud told me that Mr. B had arrived before me, and had sworn to kill me. My affrighted Lucy forced me to wear a dagger. Mr. B walked about the streets and before my house as if watching for me, andthe continued reports of our neighbors prepared me for an en-counter with this man, whose violent and ungovernable temperwas only too well known. As I was walking toward the steam-mill one morning, I heard myself hailed from behind ; on turning, I observed Mr. B marching toward me with a heavy club in his hand. I stood still, and he soon reached me. He com-plained of my conduct to him at New Orleans, and suddenlyraising his bludgeon laid it about me. Though white withwrath, I spoke nor moved not till he had given me twelve severeblows, then, drawing my dagger with my left hand (unfortunatelymy right was disabled and in a sling, having been caught and
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AUDUBON 35 much injured in the wheels of the steam-engine), I stabbed himand he instantly fell. Old Mr. Berthoud and others, who werehastening to the spot, now came up, and carried him home on aplank. Thank God, his wound was not mortal, but his friendswere all up in arms and as hot-headed as himself. Some walkedthrough my premises armed with guns; my dagger was oncemore at my side, Mr. Berthoud had his gun, our servants werevariously armed, and our carpenter took my gun Long Tom.Thus protected, I walked into the Judiciary Court, that was thensitting, and was blamed, only, — for not having killed the scoundrelwho attacked me. The bad establishment, as I called the steam-mill, workedworse and worse every day. Thomas Bakewell, who possessedmore brains than I, sold his town lots and removed to Cincinnati,where he has made a large fortune, and glad I am of it. From this date my pecuniary difficulties daily increased ; I hadheavy bills to pay which I could not meet or take up. Themoment

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