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<h3>Chapter Nine.</h3> <h4>Friendly Advice.</h4> On returning to the house of my friend, I informed him of my purchase; and was pleased to find that he approved of it. “You can’t be taken in,” said he, “by land upon the Obion. From what I have heard of it, it is one of the most fertile spots in Tennessee. Moreover, as you are fond of hunting, you’ll find game in abundance. The black bear, and even the panther—or ‘painter,’ as our backwoodsmen have it—are still common in the Obion bottom; and indeed, all throughout the forests of the Reserve.” “I’m rejoiced to hear it.” “No doubt,” continued my friend, with a smile, “you may shoot deer from your own door; or trap wolves and wild-cats at the entrance to your hen-roost.” “Good!” “O yes—though I can’t promise that you will see anything of Venus in the woods, you may enjoy to your heart’s content the noble art of venerie. The Obion bottom is a very paradise for hunters. It was it that gave birth to the celebrated Crockett.” “On that account it will be all the more interesting to me; and, from what you say, it is just the sort of place I should have chosen to squat upon.” “By the by,” interrupted my friend, looking a little grave as he spoke, “your making use of that familiar phrase, recalls the circumstance you mentioned just now. Did I understand you to say, there was a squatter on the land?” “There was one—so the agent has told me; but whether he be still squatted there, the official could not say.” “Rather awkward, if he be,” rejoined my friend, in a sort of musing soliloquy; while, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, he kept pulling his “goatee” to its full length. “In what way awkward?” I asked in some surprise. “How can that signify?” “A great deal. These squatters are queer fellows—ugly customers to deal with—especially when you come to turn them out of their house and home, as they consider it. It is true, they have the pre-emption right—that is, they may purchase, if they please, and send you to seek a location elsewhere; but this is a privilege those gentry rarely please to indulge in—being universally too poor to purchase.” “What then?” “Their motto is, for ‘him to keep who can.’ The old adage, ‘possession being nine points of the law,’ is, in the squatter’s code, no dead-letter, I can assure you.” “Do you mean, that the fellow might refuse to turn out?” “It depends a good deal on what sort of a fellow he is. They are not all alike. If he should chance to be one of the obstinate and pugnacious kind, you are likely enough to have trouble with him.” “But surely the law—” “Will aid you in ousting him—that’s what you were going to say?” “I should expect so—in Tennessee, at all events.” “And you would be disappointed. In almost any other part of the state, you might rely upon legal assistance; but, I fear, that about Swampville you will find society not very different from that you have encountered on the borders of Texas; and you know how little help the law could afford you there, in the enforcement of such a claim?” “Then I must take the law into my own hands,” rejoined I, falling into very old-fashioned phraseology—for I was beginning to feel indignant at the very idea of this prospective difficulty. “No, Warfield,” replied my sober friend, “do not take that course; I know you are not the man to be scared out of your rights; but, in the present case, prudence is the proper course to follow.—Your squatter, if there be one—it is to be hoped that, like many of our grand cities, he has only an existence on the map—but if there should be a real live animal of this description on the ground, he will be almost certain to have neighbours—some half-dozen of his own kidney—living at greater or less distances around him. They are not usually of a clannish disposition; but, in a matter of this kind, they will be as unanimous in their sympathies, and antipathies too, as they would about the butchering of a bear. Turn one of them out by force—either legal or otherwise—and it would be like bringing a hornets’ nest about your ears. Even were you to succeed in so clearing your land, you would find ever afterwards a set of very unpleasant neighbours to live among. I know some cases in point, that occurred nearer home here. In fact, on some wild lands of my own I had an instance of the kind.” “What, then, am I to do? Can you advise me?” “Do as others have often done before you; and who have actually been forced to the course of action I shall advise. Should there be a squatter, and one likely to prove obstinate, approach him as gently as you can, and state your case frankly. You will find this the best mode of treating with these fellows—many of whom have a dash of honour, as well as honesty in their composition. Speak of the improvements he has made, and offer him a recompense.” “Ah! friend Blount,” replied I, addressing my kind host by his baptismal name, “it is much easier to listen to your advice than follow it.” “Come, old comrade!” rejoined he, after a momentary pause, “I think I understand you. There need be no concealment between friends, such as we are. Let not that difficulty hinder you from following the course I have recommended. The old general’s property is not all gone yet; and, should you stand in need of a hundred or two, to make a second purchase of your plantation, send me word, and—” “Thanks, Blount—thanks! it is just as I should have expected; but I shall not become your debtor for such a purpose. I have been a frontiersman too long to be bullied by a backwoodsman—” “There now, Warfield, just your own passionate self! Nay, you must take my advice. Pray, do not go rashly about it, but act as I have counselled you.” “That will depend upon contingencies. Should Master Holt—for I believe that is my predecessor’s name—should he prove amiable, I may consent to go a little in your debt, and pay him for whatever log-chopping he has done. If otherwise, by the Lady of Guadalupe!—you remember our old Mexican shibboleth—he shall be cleared out of his clearing sans façon. Perhaps we have been wasting words upon an ideal existence! Perhaps there is no squatter after all; or that old Holt has long since ‘gone under’ and only his ghost will be found flitting around the precincts of this disputed territory. Would not that be an interesting companion for my hours of midnight loneliness? A match for the wolves and wild-cats! Ha! ha! ha!” “Well, old comrade; I trust it may turn out no worse. The ghost of a squatter might prove a less unpleasant neighbour than the squatter himself, dispossessed of his squatment. Notwithstanding this badinage, I know you will act with judgment; and you can count upon my help in the matter, if you should require it.” I grasped the speaker’s hand, to express my gratitude; and the tight pressure returned, told me I was parting with one of the few friends I had in the world. My impedimenta had been already packed. They did not need much stowage. A pair of saddle-bags was sufficient to contain all my personal property—including the title-deeds of my freehold! My arms I carried upon my person: my sword only being strapped along the saddle. Bidding adieu to my friend, I mounted my noble Arab; and, heading him to the road, commenced journeying towards the Western Reserve. <hr /></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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