THE

HUNTER CHENEY-ENCOUNTERS WITH A PANTHERDEADLY STRUGGLE WITH A WOLF-A BEAR AND MOOSE FIGHT-SHOOTS HIMSELF.

BACKWOODS, July 12

DEAR H :

You know one expects to hear of hunting achievements upon our western frontier, where the sounds of civilization have not yet frightened away the wild beasts that haunt the forest. But here in the heart of the Empire State is a man whose fame is known far and wide as the "mighty hunter," and if desperate adventures and hair-breadth escapes give one a claim to the sobriquet, it certainly belongs to him. Some ten or fifteen years ago, Cheney, then a young man, becoming enamored of forest life left Ticonderoga, and with his rifle on his shoulder, plunged into this then unknown, untrodden wilderness. Here he lived for years on what his gun

brought him. Finding in his long stretches through

the wood, where the timber is so thick you cannot see an animal more than fifteen rods, that a heavy rifle was a useless burden, he had a pistol made about eleven inches in length, stocked like a rifle, which, with his hunting knife and dog, became his. only companions. I had him with me several days as a guide, for he knows better than any other man the mysteries of this wilderness, though there are vast tracts even he would not venture to traverse. Moose, deer, bears, panthers, wolves, and wild cats, have by turns, made his acquaintance, and some of his encounters would honor old Daniel Boone himself. Once he came suddenly upon a panther that lay crouched for a spring within a single bound of him. He had nothing but his gun and knife with him, while the glaring eyes and gathered form of the furious animal at his feet, told him that a moment's delay, a miss, or a false cap, would bring them locked in each other's embrace, and in a death-struggle. But without alarm or over-haste, he brought his riflo to bear upon the creature's head, and fired just as he was sallying back for the spring. The ball entered the brain, and with one wild bound his life departed,

FIGHT WITH A WOLF.

and he lay quivering on the leaves.

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Being a little

curious to know whether he was not somewhat-agitated in finding himself in such close proximity to a panther all ready for the fatal leap, I asked him how he felt when he saw the animal crouching so near. "I felt," said he coolly, "as if I should kill him." I need not tell you that I felt a little foolish at the answer, and concluded not to tell him that I expected he would say that his heart suddenly stopped beating, and the woods reeled around him; for the perfect simplicity of the reply took me all aback-yet it was rather an odd feeling to be uppermost in a man's mind just at that moment-it was, however, perfectly characteristic of Cheney.

His fight with a wolf was a still more serious affair. As he came upon the animal, ravenous with hunger, and floundering through the snow, he raised his rifle and fired; but the wolf, making a spring just as he pulled the trigger, the ball did not hit a vital part. This enraged her still more; and she made at him furiously. He had now nothing but an empty rifle with which to defend himself, and instantly clubbing it, he laid the stock over the wolf's head. So desperately did the creature fight, that he broke

the stock into fragments without disabling her. He then seized the barrel, which, making a better bludgeon, told with more effect. The bleeding and enraged animal seized the hard iron with her teeth, and endeavored to wrench it from his graspbut it was a matter of life and death with Cheney, and he fought savagely. the wolf, by stepping on his

But, in the meantime, snow-shoes as she closed He then thought the

with him, threw him over. game was up, unless he could make his dogs, which were scouring the forest around, hear him. He called loud and sharp after them, and soon one-a young hound-sprung into view but no sooner did he see the condition of his master, than he turned in affright, and with his tail between his legs, fled into the woods. But, at this critical moment, the other hound burst with a shrill savage cry, and a wild bound, upon the struggling group. Sinking his teeth to the jaw bone in the wolf, he tore her fiercely from his master. Turning to grapple with this new foe, she gave Cheney opportunity to gather himself up, and fight to better advantage. At length, by a welldirected blow, he crushed in the skull, which finished the work. After this he got his pisto made.

You know that a bear always sleeps through the winter. Curled up in a cavern, or under a fallen tree, in some warm place, he composes himself to rest, and, Rip-Van-Winkle-like, snoozes away the season. True, he is somewhat thin when he thaws out in the spring, and looks voracious about the jaws, making it rather dangerous to come in contact with him. Cheney told me, that one day, while hunting on snow shoes, he suddenly broke through the crust, and came upon a bear taking his winter's nap. The spot this fellow had chosen, was the cavity made by the roots of an upturned tree. It was a warm, snug place; and the snow having fallen several feet deep over him, protected him from frosts and winds. The unceremonious thrust of Cheney's leg against his carcass, roused up Bruin, and with a growl that made the hunter withdraw his foot somewhat hastily, he leaped forth on the snow. Cheney had just given his knife to his companion, who had gone to the other side of the mountain to meet him farther on; and hence, had nothing but his pistol to defend himself with. He had barely time to get ready before the huge creature was close upon him. Unterrified, however, he took deliberate aim right between the fellow's eyes, and