Nelson Crocker and the Panthers
Nelson Crocker was a noted hunter, of whose adventures in the woods many interesting stories are told. It is said that when he accompanied a hunting expedition his companions felt certain of bagging their game. The following narrative, which is given by Quinlan, is highly illustrative of early life in the wilds of Sullivan.
Northwest of Big pond in the town in Bethel, there is a tract of low, wet land known as Painter's swamp. In former times this ground was as good for deer hunting as any in the country; and where deer were found, panthers generally abounded. This was, consequently, a favorite hunting-ground for Crocker; but on one occasion he found more panthers than he wished to see.
While rambling one day with his dog on the outskirts of the swamp, he counted the tracks of no less than seven of these ferocious animals. As they are generally found singly, or at most in pairs, Crocker could not conjecture why so many were together. He followed the tracks until he was hungry, and then sat down to eat his luncheon. Dividing this into two parcels, he proffered one to his dog; but the latter instead of sharing the tempting meal, showed his teeth, and seemed bristling for a fight with an unseen enemy. Just as the hunter swallowed his last mouthful, a large panther sprang by him, almost grazing his shoulder as it passed. Crocker caught up his rifle, fired at the beast at random, and saw it disappear unharmed. An instant afterward his dog was fighting another of the monsters at a little distance; but the dog was soon glad to get out of reach of the claws of his antagonist and run to his master for protection.
As Crocker was reloading, he saw a third panther coming toward him. He shouted at the top of his voice, and it ran up a tree. This one he shot and killed. As soon as he could reload he caught sight of another, which he also shot and brought down from its perch in a tree. Here the fright of the dog, which seemed to feel safe nowhere but between his master's feet, and the screaming of the panthers in every direction, caused Crocker to lost heart. To get out of that swamp without delay he believed to be his first and supreme duty. He ran with all his might for safe ground, and did not stop until he believed himself out of the reach of danger.
The next day Crocker returned to the scene of this adventure for the purpose of skinning his game. While thus engaged he discovered a large male panther in the crotch of a tree. He fired at the beast and it fell; but it immediately ran up a sapling until the top was reached, when the sapling bent with the weight of the beast until its branches reached the ground. As the panther came down, the dog, forgetting the rough usage of the previous day, stood ready for battle. A rough and tumble fight ensued, in which the dog was speedily whipped, when he fled yelping toward his master, closely pursued by the panther. Crocker's rifle was unloaded; and as he had no relish for a hand-to claw encounter he concluded to run too. A race ensued in which the dog was ahead, the hunter next, with the panther in the rear, driving all before it. Crocker expected every moment to feel the weight of his pursuer's claws on his shoulders, and consequently made excellent time. Finding his rifle an encumbrance, he dropped it as he ran. This proved his salvation; for the beast stopped a moment to smell at it, and decide whether it should be torn in pieces. This enabled Crocker to get out of the swamp before the panther could overtake him, and the beast did not seem inclined to follow him to the upland.
After waiting some hours, Crocker, armed with nothing but his hatchet and hunting knife, started once more for the swamp from which he had twice been driven ingloriously. Recovering his gun, he reloaded it carefully, and endeavored to induce his dog to follow the panther's track; but he declined, having had enough of panther hunting. As they were leaving the swamp the dog commenced to howl. The panther answered with a loud squall, and started towards the hunter, repeating the challenge as it came, evidently bent on a fight. The dog crouched close to the feet of the hunter, while the latter coolly awaited the approach of the ferocious monster. When it was within one bound of him, and about to spring, Crocker sent a ball crashing into its brain. Without further adventure he skinned the game he had shot during his two days hunt, and returned home.
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