Bennett, Emerson - Prairie Flower 02

by Leni-Leoti or, Adventures In The Far West (lit)

  Passing Uintah Fort, which awakened many painful recollections of what had occurred since my former visit here in company with my lost friend, we took a southerly course, and crossing Green river, continued over an undulating, mountainous country to Grand river, and thence to the most northern range of the Green Mountains, where gush forth the head waters of the Arkansas and Rio Grande. Here we came to a beautiful valley, shut in by high hills, through which flowed a limpid stream, whose banks wore a velvet covering of rich green grass and innumerable wild flowers. A little back from the stream, on either side, was a delightful grove, stretching away in rows of artificial regularity. In fact, from what I saw, and the information I gathered from my compagnons d'voyage, I have every reason to believe this valley was at one time a nobleman's park. I said it was shut in by hills; but there was one outlet toward the west, where the streamlet flowed gently away between two ridges. Entering through this pass, you are struck with the singular beauty of the spot; and not more so than by a huge pile of ruins on a gentle eminence away to the right. Here, as tradition goes, once stood a famous castle, belonging to a Spanish nobleman, who, for some state intrigue, was exiled his country, but who subsequently flourished here in great power. He had a beautiful daughter, to whom a descendent of the Aztecs paid court; but neither the father nor the daughter fancied him, and his suit was rejected. Enraged at this, he swore revenge; and possessing power and influence over a barbarous race, he succeeded by bribes and treachery in accomplishing his fell design. The lord of the castle, his daughter and attendants, all fell victims; and the mighty structure, touched by the devastating fingers of Time, at last became a heap of ruins. Such is a brief outline of the tradition, which I give for the benefit of future romancers. As we entered this ancient retreat, the bright sun of a hot July day was just beginning to dip below the line of the western horizon, and his yellow light streaming along the surface of the meandering waters, gave them the appearance of a long stream of molten, quivering gold. Everything in and about the place seemed to possess the charm of enchantment. Beautiful and merry songsters, of all hues, warbled sweet tones among the branches of the trees, or amid the tall grass and flowers beneath them. Here and there small animals of the hare species might be seen running to and fro, while the waters of the rivulet occasionally displayed the shiny sides of a mountain trout. Take it all in all, to me the place seemed a second Eden; and when I turned my eyes upon the old ruins, my imagination at once carried me far back into the dark ages of the past, and the strange tales I had heard seemed literally enacting before me. "Thar's been a heap o' blood spilt herea-ways, take one time with another," observed Black George, as, with our pipes in our mouths, we sat round the camp-fire in the evening. "Faith! and it's mesilf, now," said Teddy, "that 'ud be afther saaing the spot as hasn't been likewise, in this haathenish part of Christendom." "Oui, Monsieur Teddy," rejoined the Frenchman. "Ha, ha! by gar sacre! dat pe ver nice spoke—ver nice. You sall make von moche grande—vot you call him—oratore, eh!" "But tell us what you know," said I, addressing the old trapper, whom I was anxious to draw out in one of his marvelous tales. "Well, hoss, I'll gin ye the gist of a spree I once had here, ef Teddy'll agree to tell a story when I'm done." "What say you, Teddy?" "Och, now, it's not me mother's child as was iver blist wid the gift of gab; but to make the time slip off asy, I'll do me trying of it, rather thin lose that of Misther Black George, barring that I'd lose what I niver had, and that 'ud be lost twice d'ye mind!" "As how, Teddy?" "Why, your honor, and sure wouldn't I lose the hearing the story towld, and the story itsilf besides? and troth, wouldn't hat be two? and isn't two twice, now?" "Very good for you; but come, Black George, go on with the tale!" Here the old mountaineer took out his pipe, knocked out the ashes, put some of the weed into his mouth, and after twisting and turning himself into a comfortable position, thus began: "Thar's none o' ye here, I spect, as knowed Ben Bose; and the more's the pity; for Ben was a screamer, he was, right out and out. He could eat more buffler meat, drink more whisky, chaw more bacca, cuss louder and tell bigger lies, nor any white nigger this coon ever seed—and that's a dog-gone fact. Maybe you think as how I exaggerrate; but I ken jest prove all I've said and more too. Why, I've seed Ben afore now, when his meat bag war right smart empty, chaw up half a buffler, all wet down with about two gallon o' whisky, and then swear till all the trees round him 'ud git the ager, that ef he didn't git somethin to eat soon, he'd hef to go a wolfin with starvation. And as for lyin—O he could tell sich lies, could Ben, and swear to 'em so parfict, that though you knowed all the time they was lies, you'd sort o' b'lieve 'em, and wouldn't care to do nothin else; for you'd kind o' say to yourself, ef they ain't facts they ort to be, and that's the same thing. Why Ben used to tell sich almighty lies and stick to 'em so long, that he'd git to believing 'em himself, he would—and then he'd quit 'em; for he war never know'd to tell anything as he suspicioned bein true ef he could help it. The only time this child ever hearn him tell a fact, was one't in a joke, when he said he was the biggest liar on arth; but he made up for that right purty, by swearin the next minnet he'd never told a lie in his life. "But whar am I gittin to? Well, ye see by this, that Ben was one of the boys, he was, and nothin else. Poor feller! he went under at last like a sojer. He gin in the pint right out thar-a-ways, whar ye see the light shinin on that big tree." "Ah! then he died here?" "Well he did," said the old trapper with a sigh; "but he died game, and that's suthin. It's how he went out I'm goin to 'lighten ye; but I'm goin to make the story short, for somehow these here old by-gones makes me feel watery like, and I never had much incline for water, no how. Augh! "Ben was purty much of a gentleman, any how, and me and him, when we'd meet, used to come together like two pieces o' wax, and stick to each other like darnation, ef not more. The last time I ever seed Ben, I got on his "run" jest back here a few mile. He was jest makin his tracks out from Taos, and this coon war jest crossin over from Bent's Fort. Me and him had two muleys apiece, and was both goin out alone, and happened to meet jest whar two trails jine. "'How is ye?' sez he, 'and whar bound?' "'Why I'm some,' I sez back agin, 'and out for a venter.' "'Jest from Bent's?' "'No whar else, hoss.' "'I'm from Taos. Let's splice and double the game. Augh!' "So we jined in, and went talkin 'bout this thing and that, and tryin which could outlie tother, till we got to this here valley and camped. "'What d'ye think o' this place, any how?' sez he. "'I reckon it's a few,' sez I. "'D'ye ever see any ghosts here?' sez he. "'Never, hoss.' "'I hev,' sez he. 'I was campin here one night, and'd jest got ready to bliad my daylights, when I happ'd to cast one over thar to that old castle, and may I be sot down for a liar, ef I didn't see a live ghost standin right on that big pile, all dressed in white, and lookin orful serious right at me. At fust I tried to think it a opterkal collusion,' sez he; 'but then I knowed right off that ef I didn't see that I didn't see nothin; and ef I didn't see nothin, what in — did I see? Well, arter squintin at it,' he sez, 'till my eyekivers got so heavy I had to put splinters under 'em to prop 'em up, I riz up on to my travelin pins, and sot out on a explore, to see ef 'twas the ghost of a white man or nigger. On that,' sez he, 'the ghost got miffed, and makin jest one step, stood right plum beside me.' "'Ben Bose,' sez the ghost, 'I want you.' "'And so does the devil,' sez Ben. "'Well, I'm him,' sez the ghost; and at that Ben sez the thing jest turned black in the face, and looked orful skeerful. "'Hadn't you better wait till I git ready? ' axed Ben. "'No,' sez the old chap, 'I want you now;' and at that Ben sez he took hold on him, and his fingers felt hot as burnt pitch. "'Well,' sez Ben, 'I jest clinched in to him, and sich a tussle you never seed. Fust me and then Brimstone, and then Brimstone and me, for two mortal hours. But, by hokey! I licked,' sez Ben, 'and the feller mosied with a flea'n his ear, and his tail hangin down like a licked puppy's.' "Now, boys," continued Black George, "as I've said afore, Ben was the all-firedest liar on earth, or else I might a b'lieved suthin o' this; for he hadn't but jest done spinnin it, when bang, bang, bang—whizz, whizz, whizz — yeahup! yeaho! whirp! come ringin in our ear
s, as ef the arth was all alive with shootin niggers—and that's a scripter, dog-gone fact, as I'm a gentleman! (Somebody gin me a chaw. Thankee! Old by-gones starts the juice— augh!) "'O the infarnals!' sez Ben, jumpin up and showin blood on his noddle. 'I'm dead meat, sartin. But I'll hev company along,' sez he; and he ups and blazes away, and throwed the nigh one, as was comin up, right purty. "Two on 'em,' sez I, 'for a pint;' and old Sweet-love gin the second one the belly-ache, instanter. "'Now let's dodge,' sez Ben, 'and keep our hair;' and with that he grabbed hold o' me, and both on us put out for the hills. "But Ben 'ud got a settler, and felt topheavy. He travel'd 'bout fifty yard, with my arm in his'n, and five yellin devils close behind us, and then he pitched on to me, and said he'd got to quit, and axed me to lift his hair and keep it from the cussed niggers. I hated to do it like darnation— but thar wasn't no help. Ef I didn't the skunks would; and so I outs with my butcher, and off come his scalp afore you could say beans. "'Thankee,' sez Ben. 'Good-by, old hoss, and put out, or you'll lose two on 'em.' "I knowed he war right, and though I hated to quit, I seed thar was no help, and I started for the old castle yonder, fodderin Sweet-love as I went. I hadn't got fur, when I knowed by the yell the rascals had come up to him. They 'spected to make a raise thar, and two stopped for his fur, and the rest followed me. Ben was cunnin though, and they didn't never tell what happ'd—them fellers didn't—I'll be dog-gone ef they did! Ben kind o' played possum, and they thought he was gone under, and so while they was foolin thar time, Ben had his eye skinned, burnt his pups' powder, and throwed both on 'em cold right han'some, and then turned over and kicked the bucket himself. I managed to plug another jest about then, and the other two scamps sot off, instanter, for a more sal-u-bri-ous climat—they did—and ef you'd only seed 'em streak it, you'd a thought lightnin warn't no whar. Why, jest to tell the clean truth, I'll be doggone ef they didn't travel so fast, that a streak o' fire followed 'em, and the animals as had been snoozin on thar way, waked up and looked out, and concluded the arth was burnin most conscrimptiously, and so they put out arter them same flyin niggers. Fact, by Judas! and ef you don't b'lieve it, you ken jest bile me for a persimmon and no questions axed." "O, of course," said I, as Black George paused and looked around triumphantly, "we all believe it, and I should like to see the man that would not." "Faith, now," chimed in Teddy, tipping me the wink, "the man that wouldn't belave all that asy, wouldn't belave that the moon's made o' graan chaase, nor that Metooselah (blissings on his name of scripter mimory!) was twice as big as a maating house." "Ha, ha! ver fine," chimed in the Frenchman, rubbing his hands and giving a peculiar shrug. "I am ver moche delight. I sall pelieve him till I pe von—vot you call him—gray beard, eh!" The other mountaineers laughed, winked at one another, but made no reply, and Black George resumed, with all the gravity of a parson: "Well, sence you b'lieve it, I don't see no use as I'll hev to prove it—and that's suthin gained," he added, sotto voce. "Well, when I seed the field was clear, I jest mosied back to Ben, to see how he'd come out, for then I didn't know. I shuffled up to him, and thar I seed the varmint lyin by his side, clean meat and nothin else, and Ben Bose as dead nor a biled kitten. I felt kind o' orful for a while, and had to play the squaw a leetle, jest for old acquaintance's sake. When I'd rubbed the water out o' my spy-glasses, I sot to work, dug a hole, and kivered Ben over decent, at least a foot below wolf-smell. Then I went a hair raisin, and lifted all the skunks' top-knots, took all thar muskets and powder, and sot down to my lone camp-fire, feelin as used up and womanish as ef I'd shuk with the ager a month. The only feel-good I had that night, was hearin the infernal wolves tearin the meat off o' them — dirty niggers' bones. The next mornin I sot on agin, and took on Ben's muleys, and it was a purty considerable time afore I made another trail in this here valley. Thar, you've got the meat o' the story, and I'm done. Augh!" Though more familiar with mountain life and all its rough scenes than when I first heard the old trapper relate his adventures, yet the tale he had just told in his rude, off-hand way, produced many painful feel ings. The story in the main I believed to be true—at least that part which related to the death of the trapper—and I could not avoid some very unpleasant reflections. Who was Ben Bose, and how came he here? Had he any near and dear relatives? Ay, perchance he had a sister— a mother — who knows but a wife and children?—all of whom loved him with a pure affection. He had been driven, it might be, by the stern arm of necessity, to gain a living for himself and them among the wild fastnesses of the mountains. He had toiled and struggled, braved dangers and hardships, with the bright hope of one day returning to them, to part no more in life. And they, all ignorant of his untimely fate, had possibly been—nay, might be now—anxiously looking for his return. Alas! if so, they must forever look in vain. No news of him, peradventure, would ever reach their ears—and certainly no Ben Bose would ever again appear. Should they venture, however, to make inquiry among the trappers who had known him, what painful tidings would the common brief rejoinders, "he's gone under," or "been rubbed out," convey to them, and how lacerate their sinking hearts! Poor fellow! Here he slept his last sleep, unheeding and unheeded, his memory forgotten, or recalled only on an occasion like this, as a fire-side pastime. "Alas! sighed I, "what an unenviable fate! and how many hundred poor human beings like him are doomed to share it!" I was recalled from my rumination, by hearing clamors for a story from Teddy, who, now that Black George had told his, seemed little inclined to favor us. "Remember your promise," said I, joining in with the others. "Faith!" answered Teddy, resorting to his peculiar habit, when puzzled or perplexed, of scratching his head: "Faith, now, gintlemen, if ye'll allow a poor body like meself to obsarve, it's me mother's own son as is thinking it's a mighty tight fix I'm in. Troth! ye axes me for a story, and it's hardly one that meself knows to tell yees. Och! I has it!" he exclaimed, his eyes brightening with a sudden thought, "I has it now, claan at me fingers' ends, barring the nails, which isn't counted at sich times, and won't make any difference for being longer some. I has it! I'll tell yees how I com'd to lave ould Ireland— the swaat land o' murphies and murthering fine ladies—bless their angel sowls, ivery baastly one on 'em! barring the baastly part, now, which I only mintioned by way of smoothing the sintence." "Yes, yes, give us the yarn," cried a voice, "and don't spin it too long, for it's gittin late." "Ay, Teddy," I added, "I think that will do — only make it short." "By gar!" rejoined Pierre, having recourse to his box, "I think so, Monsieur. Cut him off so, von two, tree feets, and den him be von ver exsallent good, eh! Je le crois." "Will, ye sae, thin gintlemen," resumed Teddy, "to begin at the beginning, as Farther Murphy used to say whin he wint to carve a chicken tail foremost, I was born in ould Ireland, not a tousand miles from Cor-r-k, ayther ways. Me father— pace to his ashes!—barring I niver saan the proof he was me father, and there was dispute about it—was a gintleman laborer, as had plenty to do all his life and little to ate. He loved whisky, the ould chap— spaking riverintly—and one day he took it into his head to die, by token as he said there wasn't air enough for ivery body to brathe, and he'd jist sacrifice himself a marthyr for the good of others. Will, me mother — Heaven rist her sowl! — she became a widder in coorse, and took on mighty bad about her Saint Dennis, as she called me dead father—though it's little of a saint as she thought him whin living— and so to drown her sorrow she took to the bothel too, and soon afther died spaachless, calling for wather, wather, the ounly time I had iver heerd her mintion it, and by token of that I knowed she was uncanny. "Will, gintlemen, ye sae, by raason of both my parents dying, I was lift a hilpless infant orphan of fourteen, widout father or mother, or a shilling in me pocket, or a divil of a pocket in me coat, barring that it wasn't a coat at all, at all ounly rags sowed thegither, jist. Me father's and mother's estate comprehinded ounly a bed, some pots and kithles, two broken stools, and a table, as had it's legs cut off for kindlingwood. So, ye sae, that was soon sittled, and thin I was lift a poor, houseless wanderer, widout a place to go to, or a relation in the wide wor-r-ld,
barring three brothers as was away, an uncle, two aunts, and about a dozen cousins, all poorer nor mesilf. Will, I took to crying for a living, and a mighty nice time I had on't, till one day Father Murphy come'd along—blissings on his name, the ould spalpeen!—and axed me would I like to come and live wid him. "Faith! maybe it wasn't long saying yis I was; and so the ould praast took me home wid him, and said if I'd work right har-r-d, and a good boy, I should live as will as his pigs—which was mighty will, he said, for they got fat on't; and so did I, barring that all the flish as crept on me bones over the night, was worked off o' me through the day; howiver, it's bether nor starving to death, I sez to mesilf, barring it's not much choice I sees in it, and one's jist as asy as the tother, and a good bit asier. "Now's you're afther having a short story, I'll skip over four years, and till ye what turned up thin, by way of variety. "The praast, Father Murphy, ye sae, had a beautiful niece, as was jist my age, barring that she was a couple o' year younger. Now ye must know I iver had a fondness for the female sex, and I kind o' took to liking Kathleen by raason of natheral instinct. And Kathleen, the darling! she sort o' took to liking me betimes, more by token I was a dacent body, and she hadn't inny one bether to like: and so betwaan us, we both thought of each other waking, and dramed about 'em in our slaap. Now divil a word did the praast know of it, at all, and that was all the bether for the pair of us. "At last I got to making love to her, and tilling her she was too swaat a being to be living all alone by hersilf jist, and that if her poor parints should be taken away like mine was and she become a poor orphan like mesilf, what would she be afther doing for a protector, and all thim things. She cried, she did, and she sez; "'Teddy,' sez she, 'what would become o' me?' "'It's not knowing,' I sez, 'and it's a mighty har-r-d thing to go by guess work on sich occasions.' "At that she cried the more, by token her inner faalings was touched, and axed me would I conthrive a way to git her out o' her troubles. "'Ah, faith,' sez I, all of a sudden, 'I have it now!' "'What is, Teddy, dear!' sez she "'Och! come to your Teddy's arms, and he'll be father, and mother, and victuals and drink to yees, my own swaat Kathleen!' I sez." "Aha!" interrupted the excited Frenchman, "dat vas von ver nice bon, exsallent coup de grace, eh! Certainment, je le crois." "Ah, the darling!" pursued Teddy— "blissing on her sowl, be it where it will, and pace to her ashes, if she's dead, which I'm not knowing, and hoping conthrawise— she fill right into me arms, and comminced crying jist like wather dripping through a seive. And thin, ye sae, I cried too, more by token o' saaing her cry, nor that I felt bad like at all, jist. Will, I wiped me eyes wid me sleeve, and had jist begun to say comfortable things to her, whin who should happen along but the ould chap of a praast, her uncle! "'Och, ye spalpeen! and what is it ye're at there, ye villain?' sez he. "At this, Kathleen let an awful scraam, and rin for the house, laving me alone to fight the ould tiger-cat as best I could. I filt mighty small jist then, ye'd bether belave, and wished wid all my heart an arthquake would open and swaller the pair of us. I saan the praast was in a dangerous timper, and I knowed something was coming, asy as squaaling to a pig. But I'll not provoke his riverince, I sez to mesilf, or he'll jist murther me outright, widout judge or jury. "'Who are ye,' sez he coming up and taking me by the collar of me coat, barring that me coat had no collar, and I stood in me shirt sleeves, jist. 'Who are ye?' sez he; and thin he shook me till me teeth rattled. "'I'm Teddy O'Lagherty, your riverince, ' sez I. "'Ye're a baastly dog!' sez he. "'Troth, and so was me father before me,' sez I, 'and hisn before that,'—for I wanted to plase him. "'Ye're a blaggard!' sez he. "'That comes by nather,' sez I. "'Ye're a scoundrel! — a villian — a maan, contimptible spalpeen!' sez he. "'Sure, and that comes by associations,' sez I. "At this Father Murphy got as red in the face as a baat, and 'pon me sowl I thought he would swaller me widout cooking or buther. "'What was yees doing here wid Kathleen? ' sez he. "'Loving her, your riverince,' sez I. "'And how dare you love sich as she?' sez he. "'Troth! and I'm thinking her as good as mesilf, your riverince,' I sez. "At that I thought the ould praast would choke himsilf, he held his grip so tight upon his own throat. Jabers! but it was rejoicing, I was, that it wasn't mesilf's he fingered that ways. "'Teddy,' sez he, afther a bit, and spaking more calm like, though I knowed the divil was behind it all: 'Teddy I'm going to have yees whipped to death, and thin sint away for a baastly vagabone, to arn yees own living in the cowld world,' sez he. "'Jist as plases your riverince,' sez I 'But sure, ye'll be afther knowing I've done many worse things than love the swaat Kathleen, blissings on her sowl!' "'And do ye raaly love her?' sez he, in a softher voice. "'Och, your riverince, and is it mesilf as loves good aetables, now?' "'Will, thin,' sez he, 'for the sake of me niece, as is the apple o' me eye, I'll pardon yees, on one condition.' "'And, sure, what might that be, your riverince?' sez I. "'That ye'll lave the counthry, and niver come into it agin,' sez he. "'What,' sez I, faaling me anger rising, 'and lave darling Kathleen all alone by hersilf, widout a protector! Be jabers! Father Murphy, it's me own mother's son as 'ud sae me own head cut off first, and thin I wouldn't.' "'What,' sez he, gitting his dander riz agin, 'and does ye dare to talk that ways to me, a praast of the gospel, and I as has raised ye from poverty to be my own sarving man, and gin ye the bist of ivery thing as was lift, whin we'd all aetin, and the pigs had done? Say that to my face, as has been a father to yees, ye ungrateful varlet? I'll have ye horse-whipped out of town so I will!' "'And if ye does,' sez I, 'I'll staal around and rin off wid Kathleen, as sure's my name's Teddy O'Lagherty, and Dennis O'Lagherty was me father'—which wasn't so sure, d'ye mind! but the praast didn't know that. "This put Father Murphy to thinking agin, and after a bit he sez, quite amiable like: "'And sure, ye wouldn't be after doing that, now, to one as has trated ye iver wid sich respict, Misther O'Lagherty?" sez he. "Howly murther! thinks I, what's coming now! Ayther a mighty sto-r-m, or sunshine sure—for I'd niver hearn the praast spaak that way afore. "'Misther O'Lagherty,' sez the praast agin, 'I love ye.' "'Faith!' sez I, 'and it's glad I am to hear the likes, more by raason ye niver showed the faaling, at all, at all.' "'Will, ye think of gitting Kathleen— but it's all in your eye,' sez he. 'She don't care for ye, me son!' "'That's a lie,' sez I, 'begging your reverince's pardon for spaaking plain Inglish!' "Father Murphy bit his lips, and his two eyes looked jist like fire-balls, they did. "'Will,' sez he, sez Father Murphy, 'we'll jist let that pass; but she can niver be yourn, Teddy, by raason of her being bargained to another.' "'That alters the case,' sez I. "'It does, sez he. 'Now ye sae, me son, ye can't make nothing by staying round here—not a bit of it—and as I maan to do the gintaal by yees, I'd like to be knowing what ye'd ax to lave the counthry, and have the money down?' "'And sure, where'd I go?' sez I. "'To Amirica,' sez he. "Will, I'd al'ays heerd of Amirica— and what a blissed counthry it was for liberty, ladies, and poor folks—and the notion plazed me; and besides, I knowed what the praast said about my niver gitting Cathleen was thrue. So I thinks it over a wee bit, and sez: "'Why, Father Murphy,' sez I, 'saaing it's you, and you're a praast too, and a gintleman I respict, (I had to lie a little, d'ye mind!) I'll go if ye'll give me dacent clothes, pay me passage out, and five pounds to dhrink your rivirence's health.' "He wanted to baat me down, but I saan I had him, and I swore divil a step would I stir widout he'd do my axing. At last sez he: "'Teddy, I'll do it, if ye'll agree to start right off, and niver sae Kathleen agin—otherwise I won't.' "'It's har-r-rd, so it is,' sez I; but I was afeard he'd back out if I didn't accept soon, and so I towld him, 'It's a bargain, your riverince.' "'Stay a minnet, thin,' sez he; and he rin into the house and brought me out five sovereigns. 'These'll pay ivery thing,' sez he; 'and so lave now, and niver show your dirthy face here agin, or I'll have you up for staaling.' "'Troth!' sez I, feeling like a lord wid me hands on the goold, 'it's not throubled wid me ye'll be agin soon. The top o' the morning to your riverince!' and so I left him. "Will, to wind up, I com'd to Amirica, and spint all me fortune, and then wint to work and earned more money, and thin wint thraveling to sae what I could find, whin,
blissings on me luck! (turning to me) I fill into your honor's sarvice, for which good bit of accident howly Mary be thanked! That's me story." At the moment Teddy concluded, and ere a single comment or remark had escaped our lips, a frightful volley of musket balls flew round us like hail, and one of our party, springing up with a yell, fell back a corpse.