CHAPTER II.
An Unpleasant Companion.
"It was one bright evening, in the fall of 18--," said my uncle, "whileI was traveling on horseback through the northern part of Missouri,that I reined up before a pleasant little tavern, where I purposed tostop for the night. The landlord, a bustling little Englishman, soonhad supper ready for me, and as I had not eaten a mouthful sincemorning, I sat down to it with a most ravenous appetite, and ate untilI began to feel ashamed of myself, and finally stopped, not because Iwas satisfied, but because I had eaten every thing on the table, anddid not wish to call for more. As I was rising from the table, thehostler entered the room, and said:
"'What be the matter with your 'orse, sir? He be so lame he can 'ardlywalk?'
"'The matter with my horse!' I repeated; 'there was nothing the matterwith him when I gave him into your charge;' and, in no amiable mood, Istarted for the stable.
"My horse, which was the gift of a deceased friend, was one of thefinest animals I ever saw. I had owned him for more than six years,during which he had been my almost constant companion; and as I hadneither wife nor child to love, it is no wonder that my affectionsclustered around him. I found that he was indeed lame; one of his legswas swollen to twice its usual size, and it was with great difficultythat he could move. I was for some time entirely at a loss how toaccount for it, and felt very much like giving the hostler, who stoodat a little distance, eyeing me as though he expected a kicking, apiece of my mind, when I happened to remember that, as I was thatafternoon descending a steep hill, my horse had stepped upon a rollingstone, and almost thrown me from the saddle; and I noticed that helimped a little afterward; but I thought it was nothing serious, andhad almost forgotten the circumstance. This I explained, in a fewwords, to the hostler, who drew a long breath, as if a mighty loadhad been removed from his breast. After rubbing the animal's leg withsome liniment, which I had brought with me, I saw him plentifully fedand bedded down, and returned to the tavern. After spending an hourlistening to the 'yarns' of the occupants of the bar-room, I went upto bed, and was soon fast asleep. Near the middle of the night, I wasaroused by loud voices under my window; and, as soon as I was fairlyawake, I found that something unusual was going on. The shrill,frightened voices of the females mingled with the hoarse ejaculationsof the men, and every thing appeared to be in the greatest confusion.I sprang out of bed, and after hastily drawing on my clothes, ran downinto the bar-room.
"'What's the matter, landlord?' I inquired of my host, as he hurriedby me, pale and almost breathless with excitement.
"'Matter!' he repeated. 'Come and see. Giles Barlow has been aroundagain, and there is one poor fellow less in the world, I'm afraid.'
"He led the way to a small bed-room, which opened off the bar-room,where I found several persons crowded around a bed, on which lay theform of a man, and a surgeon was engaged in bandaging an ugly-lookingwound, which he had received in his breast. As soon as the operationwas completed, he informed us, in reply to an inquiry of one of thebystanders, that the wound was dangerous, but that by careful nursingthe man might recover; and ended by requesting us to leave the room,as much depended on his being kept quiet. We moved back into thebar-room, and I inquired of one of the men who Giles Barlow was.
"'Why, don't you know?' he asked, in surprise. 'I thought everybodyhad heard of him! I guess you are a stranger in these parts, ain'tyou?'
"I replied in the affirmative.
"'You must live a good piece from here,' said the man, 'or you wouldcertainly have heard of Giles Barlow. He is a highwayman, that hasbeen about here for almost ten years, murdering folks and stealingtheir money. He goes on the principle that "dead men tell no tales."'
"'Why haven't you arrested him before this time?' I inquired.
"'O, yes,' answered the man, 'that's all easy enough to talk about.Haven't we tried that game? We've hunted him with rifles, and trackedhim with blood-hounds, but you might as well try to catch awill-o'-the-wisp.'
"'What sort of a looking man is he?' I asked.
"'He's a small man,' answered my informant, 'and looks like a dried-upmullen-stalk. But, the Lord love you, he's quick as lightning, andhe's got an eye that can look right through a common man. And suchhair! It is long and curly, and looks like snakes stuck on his head.I've seen him once, and I never want to meet him alone in the woods,now, I tell you.'
"I felt some curiosity to know something more of this noted robber,but before I could ask another question the man had walked away,shrugging his shoulders, and joined a group of his companions, whostood in one corner of the room, talking over the matter.
"After the exciting scenes through which I had just passed, sleep wasof course out of the question; and I stretched myself out on a benchby the fireplace, and waited impatiently for the morning. It came atlength, and, as was my usual custom, I hurried out to the stable tolook after my horse. I found him much better, but his leg was stillswollen, and I knew that he would not be in good traveling conditionfor at least a week.
"'Landlord,' I exclaimed, as I entered the bar-room, 'where can I hirea horse for two or three days? I must be in Bennington by day afterto-morrow, and my horse is too lame to travel.'
"'Well,' said the landlord, 'you are in a nice fix. I don't believethere is a horse about here you can get.'
"'I must have one,' I answered, 'for I must be in Bennington as soonas possible.'
"'Well, I'll see what I can do for you,' said the landlord, and, goingto the door, he shouted to the hostler, who stood in the stable,rubbing down my horse, 'Tom, go over to Bill Parker's and see if youcan get his mare. Tell him there's a gentleman here who wants to hireher for two or three days.'
"Tom started off immediately, but soon returned with the informationthat Mr. Parker had gone off into the country to buy cattle, and wouldnot return in less than a week.
"What should I do? I had an important case to attend to in Bennington,and must be there in time. I was about making up my mind that I wouldstart off on foot, when the landlord suddenly exclaimed:
"'I'll tell you what you can do. This creek' (pointing to a wide, deepstream which flowed by a little distance from the tavern) 'runs withinhalf a mile of where you want to go; and I guess you might hire JimHilton's boat.'
"Mr. Hilton's dwelling was pointed out to me, and, in a few moments, Ifound my man chopping wood in the yard. I made known my wants. Afterrolling his quid about in his mouth, he concluded to let me have theboat, or rather dugout, provided I would 'do the fair thing' by him.To this I readily agreed. After giving emphatic directions as to thetreatment of my horse, I stepped into the canoe, and was soon out ofsight of the tavern. I used my paddle with a will, and made goodheadway. When I became weary, I would cease paddling, and allow thecanoe to glide along with the current, giving only an occasionalstroke to direct its course.
"About noon, I began to grow hungry, and turned the canoe's headtoward the shore, to eat my dinner and rest myself, for I had becomevery tired from the cramped position in which I was obliged to sit. Inabout an hour I made preparations to continue my journey, and wasabout pushing the canoe from the shore, when a strong, cheery voicecalled out:
"'Hallo, friend! whither bound?'
"I looked up, and saw a man, dressed in the garb of a hunter, standingon the bank above me, leaning on his rifle.
"'I am going to Bennington,' I replied.
"'Are you? That's lucky. I am traveling in the same direction. Wouldyou have any objections to good company?'
"'No sir,' I replied. 'Come on.'
"The hunter came down the bank; depositing his rifle and knapsackcarefully in the bow of the canoe, he took up one of the paddles, andwe pulled from the shore. As soon as we got out into the current, Iturned, with some casual remark, to take a nearer look at mypassenger. Merciful Heaven! how I started! He was a small man,considerably below the medium hight, very slim, but well formed, andwiry as an eel, and the enormous muscles on his limbs showed plainlywith every motion he made. But his eye! How it f
lashed! and when heturned it on me I felt as though he were reading my very thoughts. Andthen there were the long 'snaky' ringlets, which the man at the tavernhad described to me. My companion was none other than Giles Barlow,the highwayman and murderer.
"You may be sure I was not very well pleased with this discovery, andthe cold sweat started out from every pore of my body; still I did notfeel afraid, for I was accustomed to scenes of danger, was well armed,and had the reputation of being a tough customer to handle. But thesituation in which I was placed would have tried stronger nerves thanmine. I thrust my hand into my pocket, and felt that my revolvers weresafe. I concluded that, if the worst came to the worst, I could atleast have two pulls at him before he could reach me; and, as I was agood shot, I had little fear of missing my mark.
"My companion was a very jolly fellow, and joked and laughed as thoughhe felt extremely happy, and I, of course, joined with him, keeping aclose watch on all his movements.
"The afternoon wore slowly away, and as it began to grow dark, Ibecame doubly watchful, for I knew that if he intended to make anattempt upon my life, the time was approaching. About nine o'clock mycompanion suddenly said, as he wound up one of his stories:
"'There's no need of both of us sitting up. It's a good forty miles toBennington, and we shan't reach it before morning.'
"'Very well,' said I, 'you may go to sleep first, and I will call youat midnight.'
"'O, no,' said he, 'I'm not in the least sleepy; I will steer thecanoe, and you can lie down here in the bow, and sleep as long as youlike.'
"Of course it would not answer for me to raise any objections to this,for I knew it would arouse his suspicions; so we changed places, andthe highwayman took his seat in the stern of the canoe. After wrappingmy cloak around me, and placing myself so that I could see everymotion he made, I drew one of my revolvers, and waited impatiently tosee what course things would take.
"For almost an hour my companion steered the boat very well, and Ibegan to think that perhaps I had been mistaken in my man, when I sawhim carefully draw in his paddle, muttering, as he did so:
"'Ah, my chicken, you little thought that you had Giles Barlow for apassenger. I'll just quietly douse your glim, and take what money andother little valuables you may have, to pay your traveling expenses tothe other world.'
"As he spoke, he bent over and drew out of his knapsack a long,shining bowie-knife, and, after trying its edge with his thumb, roseslowly to his feet. In an instant, I threw aside my cloak, and,supporting myself on my elbow, I raised my revolver, and took a quick,steady aim at his breast. He uttered a cry of surprise, but withouthesitating a moment, threw himself forward. But the sharp report ofthe revolver echoed through the woods, and the robber sank back intothe canoe, dead.
"I arrived at Bennington the next morning about ten o'clock, anddelivered the body to the authorities. The news spread like wildfire,for the name of Giles Barlow was as familiar as a household word.
"I prosecuted my case with success, and, in a week, returned to theplace where I had left my horse. He had received excellent care, andwas entirely cured of his lameness; but the landlord stubbornlyrefused any remuneration. He had heard of my exploit, and that was hisway of showing his gratitude."
Frank in the Woods Page 2
