A DESPERATE RACE
BY J.F. KELLEY
Some years ago, I was one of a convivial party that met in the principalhotel in the town of Columbus, Ohio, the seat of government of theBuckeye state.
It was a winter's evening, when all without was bleak and stormy and allwithin were blithe and gay,--when song and story made the circuit of thefestive board, filling up the chasms of life with mirth and laughter.
We had met for the express purpose of making a night of it, and thepious intention was duly and most religiously carried out. TheLegislature was in session in that town, and not a few of the worthylegislators were present upon this occasion.
One of these worthies I will name, as he not only took a big swath inthe evening's entertainment, but he was a man _more_ generally knownthan our worthy President, James K. Polk. That man was the famousCaptain Riley, whose "Narrative" of suffering and adventures is prettygenerally known all over the civilized world. Captain Riley was a fine,fat, good-humored joker, who at the period of my story was therepresentative of the Dayton district, and lived near that little citywhen at home. Well, Captain Riley had amused the company with many ofhis far-famed and singular adventures, which, being mostly told beforeand read by millions of people that have seen his book, I will notattempt to repeat.
Many were the stories and adventures told by the company, when it cameto the turn of a well-known gentleman who represented the Cincinnatidistrict. As Mr. ---- is yet among the living, and perhaps not disposedto be the subject of joke or story, I do not feel at liberty to give hisname. Mr. ---- was a slow believer of other men's adventures, and, atthe same time, much disposed to magnify himself into a marvellous herowhenever the opportunity offered. As Captain Riley wound up one of histruthful though really marvellous adventures, Mr. ---- coolly remarkedthat the captain's story was all very _well_, but it did not begin tocompare with an adventure that he had, "once upon a time," on the Ohio,below the present city of Cincinnati.
"Let's have it!"--"Let's have it!" resounded from all hands.
"Well, gentlemen," said the Senator, clearing his voice for action andknocking the ashes from his cigar against the arm of hischair,--"gentlemen, I am not in the habit of spinning yarns ofmarvellous or fictitious matters; and therefore it is scarcely necessaryto affirm upon the responsibility of my reputation, gentlemen, that whatI am about to tell you I most solemnly proclaim to be truth, and--"
"Oh, never mind that: go on, Mr. ----," chimed the party.
"Well gentlemen, in 18-- I came down the Ohio River, and settled atLosanti, now called Cincinnati. It was at that time but a littlesettlement of some twenty or thirty log and frame cabins, and where nowstand the Broadway Hotel and blocks of stores and dwelling-houses, wasthe cottage and corn-patch of old Mr. ----, the tailor, who, by the bye,bought that land for the making of a coat for one of the settlers. Well,I put up my cabin, with the aid of my neighbors, and put in a patch ofcorn and potatoes, about where the Fly Market now stands, and set aboutimproving my lot, house, etc.
"Occasionally I took up my rifle and started off with my dog down theriver, to look up a little deer or bar meat, then very plenty along theriver. The blasted red-skins were lurking about and hovering around thesettlement, and every once in a while picked off some of our neighborsor stole our cattle or horses. I hated the red demons, and made no bonesof peppering the blasted sarpents whenever I got a sight of them. Infact, the red rascals had a dread of me, and had laid a good many trapsto get my scalp, but I wasn't to be catched napping. No, no, gentlemen,I was too well up to 'em for that.
"Well, I started off one morning, pretty early, to take a hunt, andtraveled a long way down the river, over the bottoms and hills, butcouldn't find no _bar_ nor deer. About four o'clock in the afternoon Imade tracks for the settlement again. By and by I sees a buck just aheadof me, walking leisurely down the river. I slipped up, with my faithfulold dog close in my rear, to within clever shooting-distance, and justas the buck stuck his nose in the drink I drew a bead upon his top-knot,and over he tumbled, and splurged and bounded a while, when I came upand relieved him by cutting his wizen--"
"Well, but what has that to do with an _adventure_?" said Riley.
"Hold on a bit, if you please, gentlemen; by Jove, it had a great dealto do with it. For, while I was busy skinning the hind-quarters of thebuck, and stowing away the kidney-fat in my hunting-shirt, I heard anoise like the breaking of brush under a moccasin up 'the bottom.' Mydog heard it, and started up to reconnoiter, and I lost no time inreloading my rifle. I had hardly got my priming out before my dog raiseda howl and broke through the brush toward me with his tail down, as hewas not used to doing unless there were wolves, painters (panthers), orInjins about.
"I picked up my knife, and took up my line of march in a skulking trotup the river. The frequent gullies on the lower bank made it tedioustraveling there, so I scrabbled up to the upper bank, which was prettywell covered with buckeye and sycamore, and very little underbrush. Onepeep below discovered to me three as big and strapping red rascals,gentlemen, as you ever clapped your eyes on! Yes, there they came, notabove six hundred yards in my rear, shouting and yelling like hounds,and coming after me like all possessed."
"Well," said an old woodsman, sitting at the table, "you took a tree, ofcourse."
"Did I? No, gentlemen, I took no tree just then, but I took to my heelslike sixty, and it was just as much as my old dog could do to keep upwith me. I run until the whoops of my red-skins grew fainter and fainterbehind me, and, clean out of wind, I ventured to look behind me, andthere came one single red whelp, puffing and blowing, not three hundredyards in my rear. He had got on to a piece of bottom where the treeswere small and scarce. 'Now,' thinks I, 'old fellow, I'll have you.' SoI trotted off at a pace sufficient to let my follower gain on me, andwhen he had got just about near enough I wheeled and fired, and down Ibrought him, dead as a door-nail, at a hundred and twenty yards!"
"Then you skelp'd (scalped) him immediately?" said the backwoodsman.
"Very clear of it, gentlemen; for by the time I got my rifle loaded,here came the other two red-skins, shouting and whooping close on me,and away I broke again like a quarter-horse. I was now about five milesfrom the settlement, and it was getting toward sunset. I ran till mywind began to be pretty short, when I took a look back, and there theycame, snorting like mad buffaloes, one about two or three hundred yardsahead of the other: so I acted possum again until the foremost Injin gotpretty well up, and I wheeled and fired at the very moment he was'drawing a bead' on me: he fell head over stomach into the dirt, and upcame the last one!"
"So you laid for him, and--" gasped several.
"No," continued the "member," "I didn't lay for him, I hadn't time toload, so I laid my _legs_ to ground and started again. I heard everybound he made after me. I ran and ran until the fire flew out of myeyes, and the old dog's tongue hung out of his mouth a quarter of a yardlong!"
"Phe-e-e-e-w!" whistled somebody.
"Fact, gentlemen. Well, what I was to do I didn't know: rifle empty, nobig trees about, and a murdering red Indian not three hundred yards inmy rear; and what was worse, just then it occurred to me that I was nota great ways from a big creek (now called Mill Creek), and there Ishould be pinned at last.
"Just at this juncture, I struck my toe against a root, and down Itumbled, and my old dog over me. Before I could scrabble up--"
"The Indian fired!" gasped the old woodsman.
"He did, gentlemen, and I felt the ball strike me under the shoulder;but that didn't seem to put any embargo upon my locomotion, for as soonas I got up I took off again, quite freshened by my fall! I heard thered-skin close behind me coming booming on, and every minute I expectedto have his tomahawk dashed into my head or shoulders.
"Something kind of cool began to trickle down my legs into my boots--"
"Blood, eh? for the shot the varmint gin you," said the old woodsman, ina great state of excitement.
"I thought so," said the Senator; "but what do you
think it was?"
Not being blood, we were all puzzled to know what the blazes it couldbe; when Riley observed,--
"I suppose you had--"
"Melted the deer-fat which I had stuck in the breast of myhunting-shirt, and the grease was running down my leg until my feet gotso greasy that my heavy boots flew off, and one, hitting the dog, nearlyknocked his brains out."
We all grinned, which the "member" noticing, observed,--
"I hope, gentlemen, no man here will presume to think I'm exaggerating?"
"Oh, certainly not! Go on, Mr. ----," we all chimed in.
"Well, the ground under my feet was soft, and, being relieved of myheavy boots, I put off with double-quick time, and, seeing the creekabout half a mile off, I ventured to look over my shoulder to see whatkind of chance there was to hold up and load. The red-skin was comingjogging along, pretty well blowed out, about five hundred yards in therear. Thinks I, 'Here goes to load, anyhow.' So at it I went: in wentthe powder, and, putting on my patch, down went the ball about half-way,and off snapped my ramrod!"
"Thunder and lightning!" shouted the old woodsman, who was worked up tothe top-notch in the "member's" story.
"Good gracious! wasn't I in a pickle! There was the red whelp within twohundred yards of me, pacing along and _loading up his rifle as he came_!I jerked out the broken ramrod, dashed it away, and started on, primingup as I cantered off, determined to turn and give the red-skin a blast,anyhow, as soon as I reached the creek.
"I was now within a hundred yards of the creek, could see the smoke fromthe settlement chimneys. A few more jumps, and I was by the creek. TheIndian was close upon me: he gave a whoop, and I raised my rifle: on hecame, knowing that I had broken my ramrod and my load not down: anotherwhoop! whoop! and he was within fifty yards of me. I pulled trigger,and--"
"And killed _him_?" chuckled Riley.
"No, _sir_! I missed fire!"
"And the red-skin--" shouted the old woodsman, in a frenzy ofexcitement.
"_Fired and killed me!_"
The screams and shouts that followed this finale brought landlord Noble,servants and hostlers running up stairs to see if the house was onfire!
The Wit and Humor of America, Volume IV. (of X.) Page 33
