When first known to the writer, he was nearly eighty years of age, yet his step was firm and elastic, his eye bright and lustrous, in the corner of which there lurked an expression of humor and fun, his mind clear and vigorous, and his voice--well, we won't say anything more about that. Born upon the outskirts of civilization in Georgia, he had wandered along the streams and valleys of Tennessee, Kentucky and Southern Illinois, resting from time to time, until advancing settlements crowded him still further into the wilderness.--He was entirely unlettered, though he managed to sign his name, and, as is reported, sometimes to his disadvantage. Notwithstanding this he noticed all the fasts and holy days of the Episcopal Church, a circumstance which indicated his southern origin. His usual dress was a buckskin hunting shirt, breeches and moccasins. In this costume he appeared, by special invitation, at the first ball given in Peru. This was largely composed of ladies and gentlemen, fresh from the saloons and drawing rooms of the eastern cities. As may be supposed, the etiquette and toilets of the assembly produced no little astonishment in the mind of the rough old pioneer. The ladies eagerly sought his hand in the dance, but shrunk back in agony from its vice-like grasp.
Being once more cramped and annoyed by the influx of strangers he left this part of the country in 1839 or 1840, and took up his residence in Southern Missouri, near the Arkansas line. Years and infirmities soon pressed upon him, when he returned to the banks of the Illinois to die. He was buried in the burying ground at Cedar point. The writer has refrained from a notice of his most distinguished exploits, as he finds it prepared to his hand, in a much better manner than he could hope to accomplish, in the September number of Putnam's Magazine. He would say that, in the main, it corresponds with the accounts he has received from the mouth of Mr. Myers himself, and from those who knew him at the time of the events related.
A party of eight or ten Indians, accompanied by Myers, had been out two or three days on a hunting excursion, and were returning, laden with the spoils of the chase, consisting of various kinds of wild fowls, squirrels, raccoons, and buffalo skins. They had used up all their ammunition except a single charge, which was reserved in the rifle of the chief for any emergency or choice game which might present itself on the way home. A river lay in the way, which could be crossed only at one point, without subjecting them to an extra journey of some ten miles round. When they arrived at this point, they suddenly came to a huge panther, which had taken possession of the pass, and like a skilful general, confident of his strong position, seemed determined to hold it. The party retreated a little and stood at bay for a while, and consulted what should be done. Various methods were attempted to decoy or frighten the creature from his position, but in vain. He growled defiance whenever they came in sight, as much as to say, "If you want this stronghold come and take it." The animal appeared to be very powerful and fierce. The trembling Indians hardly dared to come in sight of him, and all the reconnoitering had to be done by Myers. The majority were for retreating as fast as possible, and taking the long journey ten miles round for home, but Myers resolutely resisted. He urged the chief whose rifle was loaded, to march up to the panther, take good aim and shoot him down; promising that the rest of the party would back him up closely with their knives and tomahawks, in case of a mis-fire. But the chief refused; he knew too well the nature and power of the animal. The creature, he contended, was exceedingly hard to kill. Not one shot in twenty, however well aimed, would dispatch him; and if one shot failed, it was a sure death to the shooter, for the infuriated animal would spring upon him in an instant, and tear him to pieces. For similar reasons every Indian in the party declined to hazard a battle with the enemy in any shape.