In some such a manner as this Nat was wont to narrate his adventures in after years to his grandchildren, one of which he was particularly fond of, and when the lad was six or seven years old, and he an old man, he would amuse the child for house by telling him adventures like the above. And by reason of this custom of his, I am enabled to give so many details of his life, they being preserved in the memory of his grandchildren.
In spite of this serious brush with the Indians in the then great wilderness about the Sacandaga River, I am told that the young hunter went on his contemplated hunting and trapping excursion to Piesco Lake the following fall, and spent a most profitable season, the first of many subsequent ones, hunting and trapping for business and pleasure. It was in his twenty-first year that young Nat first met Nicholas Stoner, another famous hunter and trapper of Northern new York. Stoner was a few years older than Nat, but the young man's straight and sturdy frame, together with his being partial for hunting, and his manly ways, won at once the admiration and lasting friendship of Stoner. From their first meeting they were warm friends, and often companioned together in tramps and hunts, and other occasions, as the following incident will show. It was the year after Nat's skirmish with the Indians, just narrated, that he consented to pay a visit with Stoner to a village on the Sacandaga River, to participate in some sports and games to be held there on "Independence Day," as the Fourth of July was always called in those days.
Stoner had so much confidence in the superior strength and ability of his new friend that he was sure he would easily carry off all the honors of the day. Young Foster and his companion reached St. Johnsville in the early part of the forenoon of the day of sports, for Independence Day was distinctively a day of sports, as it was never allowed to pass without games of foot racing, jumping and wrestling being on the program. Nat's appearance with Stoner, who was well known in the village, created no little surprise and interest. The young man, straight as an arrow and over six feet tall, was dressed in a striking costume gotten up by Stoner of the occasion. He wore a heavy hunting shirts, laced with thongs of deerskin. His thighs were covered with a pair of buckskin breeches, supported at the waist by a wide belt of leather, while a pair of leggings and moccasins of buckskin, neatly worked and beaded, covered his feet and legs. This costume was completed by a cocked hat of the times. He was at once the most conspicuous figure of the assembled crowds. The sports were opened with a free-for-all foot race of forty rods; the best six in the race were to run two more heats, and the prize given to the winner in the last heat of run. Nat took his place with the motley crowed that prepared to run the first time. But following the private advice of his friends, he only kept up with the leaders, and apparently was no better than the ordinary when the dash was finished. And in the second run, he only came out a foot ahead of the others. But it was in the third heat that he was to show himself as one of extraordinary speed, though he was already exciting great interest, and many inquiries were made as to who this strange young man, clad in buckskin, was. Stoner would not give his name to any of his friends, and Nat himself, in obedience to Stoner's instructions would tell no one. He would only say that his name was Leatherstocking, and that he came from a long distance through the woods. A very significant fact which I will show later.
An old gentleman of the village approached him and respectfully asked him his name and where from, but Nat gave him only and evasive answer, though something in the old man's appearance and manner attracted his attention, and he thought he had seen him before. But as Nat had never been in the village before, he concluded it was only a fancy, and forgot all about it, particularly as the third and last call for the foot race was now being announced. The six contestants quickly placed themselves in line. There was no "fixing up" in those days or stripping and rubbing down of sprinters, for they ran in their ordinary clothes, discarding their coat and hat. Stoner, knowing well how this last run would terminate, resolved to prepare an even greater surprise for the assembly than would be afforded by Nat's mere winning the race. So he wound a long pole and going to the end of the race course, he took up his position there and placed one end of the pole on his own shoulder, while he got another man to support it at the other end, thus making a hurdle five feet in height. When the word was given to start Nat gave a bound which placed his competitors in the rear, and distancing them all, he dashed over the course and cleared the pole with a mighty leap, before the other runners had gone over half the course. Naturally the young stranger was loudly cheered as he returned to the starting place accompanied by Stoner, and he was immediately led away to receive the prize, which was a beaded cap made by the young ladies of the village. It was presented to him by a handsome young woman, who modestly but pleasantly asked the victor his name. Nat received the cap with a graceful bow, but as before, declined to give his name, merely answering that he came from a long distance through the woods.
But for all he gave such a quiet answer, his mind was turbulent and confused, for he was certain he had seen the young women's face before, but where or when he could not imagine; but concealing his confusion as much as possible, he turned and walked away with Stoner.
Nat was not able to hide his excitement from this friend, however, who thought he had been smitten by the fair face of the girl, for he immediately began to tease him by telling him how the girl was mitten too.
"Do you really think she knew me?" asked Nat very innocently.
"Know you," said Stoner, "How could she know you, when you've been in the woods all your life; why she is a daughter of that old fellow that spoke to you after the second heat," he continued, all unconscious of the excitement his announcement was stirring up in the heart of his friend.
But Nat kept his excitement and his own thoughts to himself, and turned the conversation to other subjects. There were a number of other sports to take place, but he no longer had a desire to participate in them, for he could only think of the fair face of the girl whose hands had placed the cap on his head. He took it off repeatedly to examine it, and wondered as the looked at the marvelous needlework, how much of it had been done by her own fingers. In the afternoon the wrestling matches were to take place. There were many calls for the young stranger who wore the leather leggins, and there was a loud hurrah as Nat appeared in the crowd. But still he did not wish to take part in any of the matches, but said the would rather look on. There were two or three bouts between some of the younger lads of the village, and then a big burly fellow, known in the village for his prowess, stepped into the ring and challenged any one in the assembly to engage with him, but no one responded, but the challenger was too well known in the village as a wrestler. He repeated his challenge, and as no one responded this feature of the day's sports promised to be very tame; until some one suggested that the stranger take hold. But Nat shook his head decisively as the fellow in the ring bawled out; "Yes, bring on the bully and I will meet him."
This taunt was too much for Nat, and with his cheeks burning with indignation and his eyes flashing, he stepped forward and asked the conditions of the match. "Collar and elbow, best two in three, you fool," blurted out his antagonist, who was plainly spoiling for a fray. Nat paid no attention to this sally, but pausing at the edge of the ring, spoke up in a clear voice and said: "Gentlemen, there will be no hardness on my part if this man throws me, and if I am lucky enough to throw him he must bear no ill will towards me, on no other terms will I enter the ring." The eager crowd quickly answered an agreement to this with shouts of "Go on, go on." Nat tightened his belt and handed his prize cap, which he was still wearing, to Stoner, who whispered to his friend to be sure and preserve the honor of the cap; and with a sure and preserve the honor of the cap and with a cheery "never fear," Nat stepped into the ring. The man our hero was to meet was about thirty years old; he was six feet and two inches in height, in fact, a perfect giant to behold. Nat in spite of his own height, looked small beside him. To all appearances the old wrestler had the advantage, and he himself probably firmly believed. But Nat was as spry as a cat, and his double joints gave him the strength of tow men; but all this was unknown to his antagonist, who was regarded as the best wrestler in all the country. He had no idea that this strange lad, who came from no one knew where, would be anything but a plaything in his hands. But he was soon to be undeceived.
The first remark made by "Sandy," was the fellow was called, was, "Young man", what is your weight?"
"On hundred and eighty pounds, sir," answered Nat, respectfully, "and now, sir," he continued, "you will please to give me your avoirdupois."
"Two hundred and sixteen pounds," promptly answered Sandy. "And why do you ask," he continued, eyeing Nat curiously.
"Oh, I just thought I would know how much I've got to lift, that's all," was Nat's cool reply.
"Young man," said Sandy, "you won't lift that weight today; the proof of the pudding is in the eating; come on."
"So you say," retired Nat, as he approached his opponent.
The sport began; step by step they approached each other and finally got down to real work, when Nat put his foot at his antagonist's knee and Sandy gave a trip and twitch calculated to throw Nat: But he was prepared for this; the trip did not reach, and Nat landed Sandy flat on his back.
The hurrah that went up from the crowd was deafening.
"Sandy is down, Sandy is down," was the cry. The two hundred and sixteen pounds had been lifted very easily. In a few moments order was restored, and Sandy, anxious to redeem himself, shouted, "Come on, boy, come on, I will show you that mistakes will happen to the best of men."
They now engaged in the second match. Nat did not wait for any false moves this time, but showed his great and superior strength by stepping on Sandy's toe and lifting him from the ground, when he threw him on his back again.
By this time Sandy was in a rage. And not satisfied with the result, wanted to try again. But Nat said: "No; twice is enough, for its the best two in three, you know, and I've had that." But still Sandy insisted; but Nat declared it would not be according tot he terms, for it would then be "three out of three."
"Oh, don't be so sure my lad," retorted Sandy, "Just come on and I will show you I was only fooling."
"No," answered Nat, "you would not be satisfied, anyhow."
Then Sandy wanted to fight. But at this Nat told him he would probably come out second best as he had already done. With that Sandy called Nat a coward, and such other hard names, that it required his best efforts to keep cool.
At last Sandy said if Nat would take only one "back hold" with him he would be satisfied. Now this was Nat's favorite hold, so he immediately told Sandy that if that would satisfy him, he would consent. In less than a minutes the two contestants were together. Sandy, no doubt, thought he was the strongest of the two, and if he had gotten Nat down he probably intended to punish him to his satisfaction before the crowd interfered. But such was not the case, for Nat's peculiar build enabled him to settle the affair very quickly. He approached Sandy, gave "fond embrace" for about a quarter of a minute, and then let go, when Sandy fell to the ground in a heap, bleeding from the nose.
This settled the wrestling. Nat was at once the hero of the day, and the crowd, cheering loudly, were preparing to carry him triumphantly to the tavern, when a great commotion was observed in another crowd of the villagers on the river bank, and the cry reached them of "a man and woman in the water." Hearing this, Nat sprang from the shoulders of the men and ran as only he could, to the river. There he saw a boat bottom side up, and two persons, a man and a woman, struggling in the water. The man was just able to keep his head above the surface and struggle weakly towards the bank, while the woman was being swept away by the current. She sank as he was looking, and as she appeared again, Nat recognized the face of the young woman who had excited his interest in the morning; and as she sank for the third time, he plunged into the stream and reached her, only by diving and grouping for her on the muddy bottom of the river. He made his way tot he bank with the girl in his arms, and tenderly assisted in carrying her to a house. He knew who she was now, From two little telltale moles on her neck he was convinced that it was none other than Mary Wilson, the friend and sweetheart of his childhood; and the old gentleman who had spoken to him in the morning, who had been rescued by others from the river, was her father, who had on one occasion so ill treated him when he was a lad. As soon as he learned that their name was Wilson, thus knowing that his convictions were true, he started for home, in spite of the protestations of his friend Stoner.
As soon as Mr. Wilson recovered from his ducking he sent for the stranger and hero of the day to reward him for his crowning act of gallantry and bravery, but of course, he was nowhere to be found.
Months afterward, he learned who Nat was, and sent a message to him, telling him he remembered with regret his treatment of him at one time in his boyhood and offering him any reward he might ask for the service he had rendered him in saving his only daughter. It is said Nat sent back word that he was welcome to the service he had rendered, but that the treatment he had received at his hands could never be forgotten.
Foster was once asked later in his life why he did not claim the girl as a reward, and he said he could not marry the daughter of a Tory. But no doubt the truth was that, with his natural wisdom and discernment of the fitness of things, he recognized the wide difference between him and Mary Wilson, in education and culture, which was not so marked when they were children together. At all events he did not appear to possess any lasting sentimental thoughts for her who was the companion of his childhood, and in a couple of years after this incident married another woman, who for fifty years was his faithful helpmeet.
Copyright © 1998, -- 2003. Berry Enterprises. All rights reserved. All items on the site are copyrighted. While we welcome you to use the information provided on this web site by copying it, or downloading it; this information is copyrighted and not to be reproduced for distribution, sale, or profit.