Thrilling Adventures By Land And Sea — Indian Devil; Bear Fight; The Miners of Bois-Monzil

INDIAN DEVIL.

There is an animal in the deep recesses of the forests of Maine, evidently belonging to the feline race, which, on account of its ferocity, is significantly called "Indian Devil"--in the Indian language, "the Lunk Soos;" a terror to the Indians, and the only animal in New England of which they stand in dread.

You may speak of the moose, the bear, and the wolf even, and the red man is ready for the chase and the encounter.

But name the object of his dread, and he will significantly shake his head, while he exclaims, "He all one debil!"

An individual by the name of Smith met with the following adventure in an encounter with one of these animals on the Arromucto, while on his way to join a crew engaged in timber-making in the woods.

He had nearly reached the place of encampment, when he came suddenly upon one of these ferocious animals.

There was no chance for retreat, neither had he time for reflection on the best method of defence or escape.

As he had no arms or other weapons of defence, his first impulse, in this truly fearful position, unfortunately, perhaps, was to spring into a small tree near by; but he had scarcely ascended his length when the desperate creature, probably rendered still more fierce by the promptings of hunger, sprang upon and seized him by the heel.

Smith, however, after having his foot badly bitten, disengaged it from the shoe, which was firmly clinched in the creature's teeth, and let him drop.

The moment he was disengaged, Smith sprang for a more secure position, and the animal at the same time leaped to another large tree, about ten feet distant, up which he ascended to an elevation equal to that of his victim, from which he threw himself upon him, firmly fixing his teeth in the calf of his leg.

Hanging suspended thus until the flesh, insufficient to sustain the weight, gave way, he dropped again to the ground, carrying a portion of flesh in his mouth.

Having greedily devoured this morsel, he bounded again up the opposite tree, and from thence upon Smith, in this manner renewing his attacks, and tearing away the flesh in mouthfuls from his legs.

During this agonizing operation, Smith contrived to cut a limb from the tree, to which he managed to bind his jack-knife, with which he could now assail his enemy at every leap.

He succeeded thus in wounding him so badly that at length his attacks were discontinued, and he finally disappeared in the dense forest.

During the encounter, Smith had exerted his voice to the utmost to alarm the crew, who, he hoped, might be within hail.

He was heard, and in a short time several of the crew reached the place, but not in time to save him from the dreadful encounter.

The sight was truly appalling.

His garments were not only rent from him, but the flesh literally torn from his legs, exposing even the bone and sinews.

It was with the greatest difficulty he made the descent of the tree.

Exhausted through loss of blood, and overcome by fright and exertion, he sunk upon the ground and immediately fainted; but the application of snow restored him to consciousness.

Preparing a litter from poles and boughs, they conveyed him to the camp, washed and dressed his wounds, as well as circumstances would allow, and, as soon as possible, removed him to the settlement, where medical aid was secured.

After a protracted period of confinement, he gradually recovered from his wounds, though still carrying terrible scars, and sustaining irreparable injury.

Such desperate encounters are, however of rare occurrence, though collisions less sanguinary are not infrequent.

BEAR FIGHT.

A sanguinary encounter with bears took place in the vicinity of Tara-height, on the Madawaska river, a few years since: "A trap had been set by one of the men, named Jacob Harrison, who, being out in search of a yoke of oxen on the evening in question, saw a young bear fast in the trap, and three others close at hand in a very angry mood, a fact which rendered it necessary for him to make tracks immediately.

On arriving at the farm, he gave the alarm, and, seizing an old dragoon sabre, he was followed to the scene of action by Mr. James Burke, armed with a gun, and the other man with an axe.

"They proceeded direct to the trap, supplied with a rope, intending to take the young bear alive.

It being a short time after dark, objects could not be distinctly seen; but, on approaching close to the scene of action, a crashing among the leaves and dry branches, with sundry other indications, warned them of the proximity of the old animals.

When within a few steps of the spot, a dark mass was seen on the ground--a growl was heard--and the confined beast made a furious leap on Jacob, who was in advance, catching him by the legs.

The infuriated animal inflicted a severe wound on his knee, upon which he drew his sword and defended himself with great coolness.

"Upon receiving several wounds from the sabre, the cub commenced to growl and cry in a frightful and peculiar manner, when the old she-bear, attracted to the spot, rushed on the adventurous Harrison, and attacked him from behind with great ferocity.

Jacob turned upon the new foe, and wielded his trusty weapon with such energy and success, that in a short time he deprived her of one of her fore paws by a lucky stroke, and completely disabled her, eventually, by a desperate cut across the neck, which divided the tendons and severed the spinal vertebrae.

Having completed his conquest, he had ample time to dispatch the imprisoned cub at leisure."

"During the time this stirring and dangerous scene, we have related, was enacting, war was going on in equally bloody and vigorous style at a short distance.

Mr. Burke, having discharged his gun at the other old bear, only slightly wounded him; the enraged Bruin sprang at him with a furious howl.

He was met with a blow from the butt-end of the fowling-piece.

At the first stroke, the stock flew in pieces, and the next the heavy barrel was hurled a distance of twenty feet among the underwood by a side blow from the dexterous paw of the bear.

Mr. Burke then retreated a few feet, and placed his back against a large hemlock, followed the while closely by the bear, but, being acquainted with the nature of the animal and his mode of attack, he drew a large hunting knife from his belt, and, placing his arms by his side, coolly awaited the onset.

"The maddened brute approached, growling and gnashing his teeth, and, with a savage spring, encircled the body of the hunter and the tree in his iron gripe.

The next moment, the flashing blade of the _couteau chasse_ tore his abdomen, and his smoking entrails rolled upon the ground.

At this exciting crisis of the struggle, the other man, accompanied by the dog, came up in time to witness the triumphal close of the conflict.

"Two old bears and a cub were the fruit of this dangerous adventure--all extremely fat--the largest of which, it is computed, would weigh upward of two hundred and fifty pounds.

We have seldom heard of a more dangerous encounter with bears, and we are happy to say that Mr. Burke received no injury; Mr. Jacob Harrison, although torn severely, and having three ribs broken, recovered under the care of an Indian doctor of the Algonquin tribe."

THE MINERS OF BOIS-MONZIL.

On Tuesday, February 22, 1831, a violent detonation was suddenly heard in the coal mine of Bois-Monzil, belonging to M. Robinot.

The waters from the old works rushed impetuously along the new galleries.

"The waters, the waters!"

such was the cry that resounded from the affrighted workmen throughout the mine.

Only ten miners out of twenty-six were able to reach the entrance.

One of them brought off in his arms, a boy eleven years old, whom he thus saved from sudden death; another impelled by the air and the water, to a considerable distance, could scarcely credit his escape from such imminent danger; a third rushed forward with his sack full of coals on his shoulders, which, in his fright, he had never thought of throwing down.

The disastrous news, that sixteen workmen had perished in the mine of M. Robinot, was soon circulated in the town of St. Etienne.

It was regarded as one of those fatal and deplorable events unfortunately, too common in that neighborhood, and on the ensuing Thursday it was no longer talked of.

Politics, and the state of parties in Paris, exclusively occupied the public attention.

The engineers of the mines, however, and some of their pupils, who, on the first alarm, had hastened to the spot, still remained there, continuing their indefatigable endeavors to discover the miners who were missing.

Nothing that mechanical science, manual labor, and perseverance, prompted by humanity, could perform, was left undone.

Thirty hours had already elapsed since the fatal accident, when two workmen announced the discovery of a jacket and some provisions belonging to the miners.

The engineers immediately essayed to penetrate into the galleries where these objects had been found, which they accomplished with much difficulty, by crawling on their hands and feet.

In vain they repeatedly called aloud; no voice, save the echo of their own, answered from those narrow and gloomy vaults.

It then occurred to them to strike with their pickaxes against the roof of the mine.

Still the same uncheering silence!

Listen!

yes!

the sounds are answered by similar blows!

Every heart beats, every pulse quickens, every breath is contracted; yet, perhaps, it is but an illusion of their wishes--or, perhaps, some deceitful echo.

They again strike the vaulted roof.

There is no longer any doubt.

The same number of strokes is returned.

No words can paint the varied feelings that pervaded every heart.

It was (to use the expression of a person present) a veritable delirium of joy, of fear, and of hope.

Without losing an instant, the engineers ordered a hole to be bored in the direction of the galleries, where the miners were presumed to be; at the same time, they directed, on another point, the formation of an inclined well, for the purpose of communicating with them.

Two of the engineer's pupils were now dispatched to the mayor of St. Etienne, to procure a couple of fire pumps, which they conducted back to the mine, accompanied by two firemen.

In the ardor of youthful humanity, these young men imagined that the deliverance of the miners was but the affair of a few hours; and, wishing to prepare an "agreeable surprise" for the friends of the supposed victims, they gave strict injunctions at the mayoralty to keep the object of their expedition a profound secret.

Notwithstanding the untiring efforts made to place these pumps in the mine, it was found impossible.

Either they were upon a plane too much inclined to admit of their playing with facility, or the water was too muddy to be received up the pipes; they were therefore abandoned.

In the meantime, the attempts made to reach the miners by sounding or by the inclined well, seemed to present insurmountable difficulties.

The distance to them was unknown; the sound of their blows on the roof, far from offering a certain criterion, or, at least, a probable one, seemed each time to excite fresh doubts; in short, the rock which it was necessary to pierce, was equally hard and thick, and the gunpowder unceasingly used to perforate it, made but a hopeless progress.

The consequent anxiety that reigned in the mine may be easily conceived.

Each of the party, in his turn, offered his suggestions, sometimes of hope, sometimes of apprehension; and the whole felt oppressed by that vague suspense, which is, perhaps, more painful to support than the direst certainty.

The strokes of the unfortunate miners continued to reply to theirs, which added to their agitation, from the fear of not being able to afford them effectual help.

They almost thought that in such a painful moment their situation was more distressing than those they sought to save, as the latter were, at any rate, sustained by hope.

While most of the party were thus perplexed by a crowd of disquieting ideas, produced by the distressing nature of the event itself, and by their protracted stay in a mine where the few solitary lamps scarcely rendered "darkness visible," the workmen continued their labors with redoubled ardor; some of them were hewing to pieces blocks of the rock, which fell slowly and with much difficulty; others were actively employed in boring the hole before named, while some of the engineers' apprentices sought to discover new galleries, either by creeping on "all fours," or by penetrating through perilous and narrow crevices and clefts of the rock.

In the midst of their corporeal and mental labors, their attention was suddenly excited from another painful source.

The wives of the hapless miners had heard that all hope was not extinct.

They hastened to the spot; with heart-rending cries and through tears alternately of despair and hope, they exclaimed, "Are they _all_ there?"

"Where is the father of my children?

Is _he_ among them, or has he been swallowed up by the waters?"

At the bottom of the mine, close to the water-reservoir, a consultation was held on the plan to be pursued.

Engineers, pupils, workmen, all agreed that the only prospect of success consisted in exhausting the water, which was already sensibly diminished, by the working of the steam-pump; the other pumps produced little or no effect, notwithstanding the vigorous efforts employed to render them serviceable.

It was then proposed remedying the failure of these pumps by _une chaine a bras_, viz, by forming a line, and passing buckets from one to the other; this method was adopted, and several of the pupils proceeded with all speed to St. Etienne.

It was midnight.

The _generale_ was beat in two quarters of the town only.

The Hotel de Ville was assigned as the place of rendezvous.

On the first alarm, a great number of persons hurried to the town-hall, imagining a fire had broken out, but, on ascertaining the real cause, several of them returned home, apparently unmoved.

Yet these same persons, whose supposed apathy had excited both surprise and indignation, quickly reappeared on the scene, dressed in the uniform of the National Guard.

So powerful is the magic influence of organized masses, marching under the orders of a chief, and stimulated by _l'esprit de corps_.

It was truly admirable to see with what address and rapidity the three or four hundred men, who had hastened to Bois-Monzil, passed and repassed the buckets, by forming a chain to the bottom of the mine.

But their generous efforts became too fatiguing to last long.

Imagine a subterranean vault, badly lighted, where they were obliged to maintain themselves in a rapid descent in a stooping posture, to avoid striking their heads against the roof of the vault, and, most of the time, up to the middle in the water, which was dripping from every side; some idea may then be formed of their painful situation.

They were relieved from this laborious duty by the _Garde Nationale_ of St. Etienne, whose zeal and enthusiasm exceeded all praise.

But a more precious reinforcement was at hand; the workmen from the adjacent mines now arrived in great numbers.

From their skill and experience every thing might be expected;

if they failed there was no further hope.

The _chaine a bras_ was again renewed by companies of the National Guard, relieved every two hours, who, at respective distances, held the lights, and under whose orders they acted.

It was a cheering spectacle to behold citizens of all ranks engaged in one of the noblest offices of humanity, under the direction of poor colliers.

The immense advantages of the organization of the National Guard, were never more strikingly exemplified than on this occasion.

Without them, there would have been no means or possibility of uniting together an entire population; of leading the people from a distance of more than three miles, night and day, so as to insure a regular and continued service; all would have been trouble and confusion.

With them, on the contrary, every thing was ready, and in motion, at the voice of a single chief; and the whole was conducted with such precision and regularity as had never on similar occasions, been witnessed before.

The road from St. Etienne to Bois-Monzil, exhibited a scene of the most animated kind.

In the midst of the motley and moving multitude, the National Guards were seen hurrying to and fro; chasseurs, grenadiers, cavalry and artillery-men, all clothed in their rich new costume, as on a field day.

Some of the crowd were singing _a la Parisienne_, others were lamenting, praying, hoping, despairing, and, by "fits and starts," abandoning themselves to those opposite extravagances of sentiment so peculiarly characteristic of a French population.

When night drew her sable curtains around, the picturesque of the scene was still more heightened.

Fresh bands of miners, conducted by their respective chiefs, coming in from every side; their sooty visages lighted up by glaring torches; National Guards arriving from different parts of the country, to join their comrades of St. Etienne; farmers and peasants, on horseback and afoot, hastening to offer their humane aid; sentinels posted--muskets piled--watch-fires blazing, and, in short, the _tout ensemble_ rendered the approaches of Bois-Monzil like a bivouac on the eve of an expected battle; happily, however, the object of these brave men was to preserve life and not to destroy it.

On Saturday, the _chaine a bras_ was discontinued, as the engineers had brought the pumps effectually to work.

Suddenly a cry of joy was echoed from mouth to mouth, "They are saved!

they are saved!

six of them are freed from their subterraneous prison!"

shouted a person at the entrance of the mine.

The rumor was instantly repeated along the crowd, and a horseman set off at full speed for St. Etienne, with the gratifying news; another followed, and confirmed the report of his predecessor.

The whole town was in motion, and all classes seemed to partake of the general joy, with a feeling as if each had been individually interested.

In the exuberance of their delight they were already deliberating on the subject of a _fete_, to celebrate the happy event, when a third horsemen arrived.

The multitude thronged round him, expecting a more ample confirmation of the welcome tidings.

But their joy was soon turned to sorrow, when they were informed that nothing had yet been discovered, save the dead bodies of two unfortunate men, who, together had left eleven children to lament their untimely fate.

On Sunday, the workmen continued their labor with equal zeal and uncertainty as before.

A sort of inquietude and hopelessness, however, occasionally pervaded their minds, which may be easily accounted for, from the hitherto fruitless result of their fatiguing researches.

Discussions now took place on what was to be done; differences of opinion arose on the various plans proposed, and, in the meantime, the sounds of the hapless victims from the recesses of the rocky cavern continued to be distinctly audible.

Every moment the embarrassment and difficulties of the workmen increased.

The flinty rock seemed to grow more impenetrable; their tools either broke, or became so fixed in the stone, that it was frequently impossible to regain them.

The water filtered from all parts, through the narrow gallery they were perforating, and they even began to apprehend another irruption.

Such was the state of things on Monday morning, when, at four o'clock, an astounding noise was heard, which re-echoed throughout the Whole extent of the mine.

A general panic seized on every one; it was thought that the waters had forced a new issue.

A rapid and confused flight took place; but, luckily, their fears were soon allayed on perceiving that it was only an immense mass of rock, detached from the mine, which had fallen into a draining-well.

This false alarm, however, operated in a discouraging manner, on the minds of the workmen; and it required some management to bring them back to their respective stations, and to revive that ardor and constancy, which they had hitherto so nobly displayed.

They had scarcely renewed their endeavors to bore through the rock, when suddenly one of them felt the instrument drawn from his hands, by the poor imprisoned miners.

It was, indeed, to them, the instrument of deliverance from their cruel situation.

Singular to relate, their first request was neither for food nor drink, but for _light_, as if they were more eager to make use of their eyes, than to satisfy the pressing wants of appetite!

It was now ascertained that eight of the sufferers still survived; and this time an authentic account of the happy discovery was dispatched to St. Etienne, where it excited the most enthusiastic demonstrations of sympathy and gladness.

But there is no pleasure unmixed with alloy; no general happiness unaccompanied by particular exceptions.

Among the workmen, was the father of one of the men who had disappeared in the mine.

His paternal feelings seemed to have endowed him with superhuman strength.

Night and day he never quitted his work but for a few minutes to return to it with redoubled ardor; one sole, absorbing thought occupied his whole soul; the idea that his son, his _only_ son, was with those who were heard from within.

In vain he was solicited to retire; in vain they strove to force him from labors too fatiguing for his age.

"My son is among them," said he, "I hear him;

nothing shall prevent my hastening his release;" and, from time to time, he called on his son, in accents that tore the hearts of the bystanders.

It was from his hand that the instrument had been drawn.

His first question was "my child?"

Like Apelles, let me throw a vail over a father's grief.

His Antoine was no more, he had been drowned.

For four days several medical men were constantly on the spot, to contribute all the succors that humanity, skill, and science could afford.

It was they who introduced through the hole, broth and soup, by means of long, tin tubes, which had been carefully prepared beforehand.

The poor captives distributed it with the most scrupulous attention, first to the oldest and weakest of their companions; for, notwithstanding their dreadful situation, the spirit of concord and charity had never ceased for a single moment to preside among them.

The man who was appointed by the others to communicate with, and answer the questions of their deliverers, displayed, in all his replies, a gayety quite in keeping with the French character.

On being asked what day he thought it was, and on being informed that it was Monday, instead of Sunday, as he had supposed, "Ah!"

said he, "I ought to have known that, as we yesterday indulged ourselves freely in drinking--water."

Strange that a man should have the heart to joke, who had been thus "cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd," during five days, destitute of food, deprived of air, agitated by suspense, and in jeopardy of perishing by the most horrible of all deaths!

There still remained full sixteen feet of solid rock between the two anxious parties; but the workmen's labors were now, if possible, redoubled by the certainty of complete success.

At intervals, light nourishment in regulated quantities, continued to be passed to the miners; this, however they soon rejected, expressing but one desire, that their friends would make haste.

Their strength began to fail them;

their respiration became more and more difficult; their utterance grew feebler and fainter; and toward six o'clock in the evening, the last words that could be distinguished, were--"Brothers make haste!"

The general anxiety was now wound up to the highest pitch; it was, perhaps, the most trying crisis yet experienced since the commencement of their benevolent labors; at length the moment of deliverance was, all at once, announced, and at ten o'clock it was accomplished.

One by one, they appeared, like specters, gliding along the gallery which had just been completed; their weak and agitated forms supported by the engineers, on whom they cast their feeble eyes, filled with astonishment, yet beaming with gratitude.

Accompanied by the doctors, they all with one single exception, ascended to the entrance of the mine, without aid; such was their eagerness to inhale the pure air of liberty.

From the mouth of the mine to the temporary residence allotted them, the whole way was illuminated.

The engineers, pupils, and the workmen, with the National Guard under arms, were drawn up in two lines to form a passage; and thus, in the midst of a religious silence, did these poor fellows traverse an attentive and sympathizing crowd, who, as they passed along, inclined their heads, as a sort of respect and honor to their sufferings.

Such are the affecting particulars of an event, during the whole of which, every kind of business was suspended at St. Etienne; an event which exhibited the entire population of a large town, forming, as it were, but one heart, entertaining but one thought, imbued with one feeling, for the god-like purpose of saving the lives of eight poor, obscure individuals.

Christians, men of all countries, whenever and wherever suffering humanity claims your aid--"Go ye and do likewise!"

[Illustration: SHIP TOWED BY BULLOCKS.

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