The Camden Journal

[From the New Orleans Picayune.]

PRAIRIE SKETCHES.

Col. James Bowie.—We are in possession of a little anecdote highly characteristic of those remarkable men, Col. James Bowie and his brother Rezin, which has never, we believe, yet appeared among the various printed relations of their battles, dangers, bravery, &c. that have met the public eye. The incident we are about to relate occurring among the wild prairie regions of Texas, we shall here introduce it among the prairie sketches we have already made.

Col. Bowie was undoubtedly a man of vigorous intellect, as well as of firm and flintlike nerve. His character is one of bold and captivating individuality, and would form a magnificent study for some native novelist. We say "some," meaning only a few, and we will mention Simms as one; there are also "some" that we hope will never mar so excellent a subject. From the wild forest life to which his bold and daring nature led him, and the deeds and scenes in which he constantly appeared as the master-spirit, an untractable and coarse disposition is apt to be imputed to him, yet directly the opposite of this was one of Col. Bowie's most distinguishing traits of character.

His manners in social intercourse were bland and gentle, so much so as to heighten materially the interest of his character. He spoke with slow and impressive intonation nicely articulating every syllable he uttered, and with strict though easy politeness observing every form of delicacy and good-breeding. In society he was stared at as a lion; but acquaintance attached a gentler interest towards him, and it was curious, as well as pleasant, to find how the lord of the forest had known the embrace of the lamb.

The following anecdote relates immediately to Rezin, but, being here given as told by the Colonel himself, it will be found to convey a very vivid and just idea of both men's characters.

In one of the Texian wilds a brave little band, of which the Colonel and Rezin were, as usual, the leading men, fell into an engagement with a vastly superior number of mounted Comanches. Upon detecting his red enemies, Colonel Bowie so manœuvring his men as completely to conceal his inferiority of force, and securing a position for defence, he very coolly awaited the moment for action. A favorable chance soon occurred, and a few American rifles began to blaze away upon the savages in such a manner as to convince them that the party told about double its actual number. Still the Comanches were appearing in all directions, flying about in great force, and the condition of the little American party became extremely critical; for, once knowing the possession of advantage, these Indians are sufficiently warlike and daring to be of very respectable consideration as enemies, even to Americans; though, until they obtain this confidence they will seldom venture upon much hazard. Now, every moment seemed to convey information to the Comanches of the miserable weakness of Bowie's party, and the Colonel disposed his men with the coolest caution, in expectation of an overwhelming assault.

In such ticklish emergencies it is customary for a hunter to pat his good rifle affectionately, and say, "I'm sure of at least one man before I fall!" but it seems Rezin Bowie had made up his mind for two. Rezin possessed the best rifle of the camp—a weapon which was considered by connoisseurs a perfect prince of irons' and with which its owner was as sure of his mark as lifting food to his mouth. At this position of the opponents the Colonel observed his brother reclining behind a log, with his favorite rifle at rest across it, his eye to the sight, the hair trigger sprung, and his finger in place for sending out the well directed leaden messenger.

Looking in the direction of Rezin's aim the Colonel saw two mounted Comanches (important chiefs, as appeared by the gleaming of their ornaments in the sun) dashing about, farther then nearer apart, and seeming to be a pair of the most daring warriors, endeavoring to learn the true condition of the American party. They were beyond the reach of any ordinary rifle, where they took care to keep, but the Colonel knew that Rezin's beautiful weapon was equal to the distance, and wondered why he delayed firing.

"Brother Rezin," said the Colonel, in the smooth and deliberate manner which we have attempted to describe—“Brother Rezin, do you not see those two red rascals wheeling about there, near each other? Why don't you pull one of them down from his horse?"

"Don't hurry me, brother James," returned Rezin, keeping his eye steadily upon the sight and speaking slowly like the Colonel. "If I pull one of the red rascals down, brother, the other red rascal will get out of my reach; wait till they lap, and then I'll pull them both down, brother James."

"They did lap, gentlemen," said Colonel Bowie—and these were the fellow's own words, as he used to tell the story—“they did lap—Rezin pulled trigger—and as I am an honest gentleman, they both fell from their horses!"

The engagement with the Indians terminated with some loss to Bowie's party, but the two brothers lived to pass through many perilous adventures after that.