Bennett, Emerson - Ella Barnwell

by Ella Barnwell (lit)

  So soon as the elder of the two became aware of consciousness on the part of the younger, a friendly smile succeeded to the look of anxiety with which he had been regarding him; and in the frank, cordial, familiar tone of that period, when every man's cabin was the traveler's home, and every strange guest was treated with the hospitality of an old acquaintance, he said:

  "Well, stranger, I'm right glad to welcome you back to life agin; for I war beginning to fear your account with earthly matters had closed. By the Power that made me! but you've had a narrow escape on't; and ef Betsy (putting his hand on his rifle, which was lying by his side,) hadn't spoke out as she did, that thar red skin varmint (pointing to the dead Indian) would have been skulking now like a thief through yonder woods, with your crown piece hanging to his girdle."

  "A thousand thanks," returned the wounded man, pressing the hand of the other as much as his strength would permit, and accompanying it with a look of gratitude more eloquent than words: "A thousand thanks, sir, for your timely shot, and subsequent kindness and interest in behalf of one you know not, but who will ever remember you with gratitude."

  "See here, stranger, I reckon you've not been long in these parts?"

  "But a few days, sir."

  "And you've come from a good ways east o' the Alleghanies?"

  "I have."

  "I knew it. I'd have bet Betsey agin a bushel of corn, and that's large odds you know, that such war the fact, from the particular trouble you've taken to thank me for doing the duty of a man. Let me assure you, stranger, that you're in a country now whar equality exists; and whar one man's just as good as another, provided he is no coward, and behaves himself as he should do; and whether stranger or not, is equally entitled to the assistance of his fellows; perticularly when about being treed by such a sneaking varmint as that lying yonder. Besides, I don't want any body to thank me for shooting Indians; for I always do it, whensomever I get a chance, as Betsey would tell you, ef she could speak English; for somehow thar's no perticular agreement atween us, unless it's for each to make the most he can off the other; and so far I reckon thar's a ballance in my favor, though the wretches are ever trying desperate hard to get even. But come, stranger, it won't do for you to be lying thar with that hole in your side; and so just have patience a minute, till I've secured the top-knot of this beauty here, and then I'll assist you down to yonder cabin, whar I doubt not you'll be well cared for."

  As he spoke, the old woodsman rose to his feet, drew his knife, and turning to the dead Indian, to the surprise of the other, who was but little familiar with Kentucky customs of that day, deliberately took off the scalp, which he attached to his belt;[1] and then spurning the body with his foot, he muttered: "Go, worthless dog! and fill the belly of some wolf! and may your cowardly companion be soon keeping you company." Then, as he turned to the other, and noticed his look of surprise, he added: "Well, stranger, I reckon this business looks a little odd to you, coming from away beyond the mountains as you do."

  "Why, if truth must be told, I confess it does," answered the other.

  "Don't doubt it, stranger; but you'll do it yourself afore you've wintered here two seasons."

  "I must beg leave to differ with you on that point."

  "Well, well, we'll not quarrel about it--it arn't worth while; but ef you stay here two year, without scalping a red-skin and perhaps skinning one, I'll agree to pay you for your time in bar-skins at your own valuation."

  "I am much obliged to you for the offer," answered the young man--a faint smile lighting his pale features; "but I think it hardly probable I shall remain in the country that length of time."

  "Not unless you have good care, I reckon," returned the other; "for that thar wound o' yourn arn't none o' the slightest; though I don't want you to be skeered, for I've seen many a worse one cured. But come, I'll assist you down to yon cabin, and then I must be off--for I've got a good distance to travel afore daylight to-morrow;" and bending down as he spoke, the veteran hunter placed his arms under the arms of the wounded man, and gently raised him upon his feet.

  Although extremely weak from loss of blood, the latter, by this means of support, was enabled to walk, at a slow pace; and the two descended the hill--the elder, the while, talking much, and endeavoring by his discourse to amuse and cheer up his companion.

  "Why," he continued, "you think your case a hard one, no doubt, stranger; but it's nothing compared to what some of us old settlers have seen and been through with, without even winking, as one may say. Within the last few year, I've seen a brother and a son shot by the infernal red-skins--have lost I don't know how many companions in the same way--been shot at fifty times myself, and captured several; and yet you see here I am, hale and hearty, and just as eager, with Betsey's permission, to talk to the varmints now as I war ten year ago."

  "But do you not weary of this fatiguing and dangerous mode of life?" inquired the other.

  "Weary, stranger? Lord bless ye! you're but a young hunter to ax such a question as that. Weary, friend? Why I war born to it--nursed to it--had a rifle for a plaything; and the first thing I can remember particularly, war shooting a painter;[2] and it's become as nateral and necessary as breathing; and when I get so I can't follow the one, I want to quit the other. Weary on't, indeed! Why, thar's more real satisfaction in sarcumventing and scalping one o' there red heathen, than in all the amusement you could scare up in a thick-peopled, peaceable settlement in a life time."

  "By the way," said the other, "pray tell me how you chanced to be so opportune in saving my life?"

  "Why, you must know, I war just crossing through the wood back here about a mile, on my way home from the Licks, when I came across the trail of two Indians, whom I 'spected war arter no good; and as Betsey war itching for something to do, I kind o' kept on the same way, and happened round on the other side o' this ridge, just as the red varmints fired. I saw you fall, but could'nt see them, on account o' the hill; but as I knowed they'd be for showing themselves soon, I got Betsey into a comfortable position, and waited as patiently as I could, until the ugly face of that rascal yonder showed clar; when I told her to speak to him, which she did in rale backwood's dialect, and he died a answering her. I then hurried round on the skirt of the wood, loading Betsey as I went; but finding the other varmint had got off, I hastened to you and found you senseless: the rest you know."

  By this time the two had reached nearly to the foot of the hill, and within a hundred yards of the cabin. Here they were joined by a tall, lank, lantern-jawed, awkward young man, some twenty years of age, with small, dark eyes, a long, peaked nose, and flaxen hair that floated down over his ungainly shoulders, like weeping willows over a scrub oak, and who carried in his hand a rifle nearly as long and ugly as himself.

  "Why, colonel, how are ye? good even' to ye, stranger," was his salutation, as he came up. "I war down by the tangle yonder, when I heerd some firing, and some yelling, and I legged it home, ahead o' the old man, just to keep the women folks in sperets, in case they war attacked, and get a pop or so at an Injen myself; but thank the Lord, they warn't thar; and so I ventered on, with long Nance here, to see whar they mought be."

  "Well, Isaac," returned the one addressed as colonel, "I don't doubt your being a brave lad, and I've had some opportunity o' seeing you tried; but being is how thar's no Indians to shoot just now, I'll ax you to show your good qualities in another way. This young man's been badly wounded, and ef you'll give him a little extra care, you'll put me under obligations which I'll be happy to repay whensomever needed."

  "It don't need them thar inducements you've just mentioned, colonel, to rouse all my sympathies for a wounded stranger. Rely on't, he shan't suffer for want o' attention."

  "Rightly said, lad; rightly said; and so I leave him in your care. Tender my regards to your family, for I must be off, and can't stay to see them." Then turning to the wounded man, he grasped his hand and said: "Stranger, thar's something about you I like; I don't say it of every man I meet; and so you may
put it down for a compliment or not, just as you please. Give me your name?"

  "Algernon Reynolds."

  "Algernon Reynolds, I hope we shall meet again, though in a different manner from our introduction; but whether or no, ef you ever need the assistance of either Betsey or myself, just make it known, and we'll do our best for you. Good bye, sir--good bye, Isaac!" and without waiting a reply, the speaker sprung suddenly behind a cluster of bushes near which the party stood, and the next moment was lost to view in the gathering darkness.

  "A great man, that thar, sir!--a powerful great man," observed Isaac, gazing with admiration after the retreating form of the hunter. "Always doing good deeds, and never looking for pay nor thanks; may God give him four-score and ten."

  "Amen to that!" returned Reynolds. "But pray tell me his name."

  "And you don't know him?"

  "I do not."

  "And you didn't inquire his name?"

  "I did not."

  "And ef you had, sir, ten to one but he'd a given you a fictitious one, to keep clar o' your surprise and extra thanks. Why that, sir, war the great white hunter, Colonel Daniel Boone."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed Reynolds, in no feigned surprise--"the very man I have so longed to behold; for his fame has already extended far beyond the Alleghanies. But come, friend Isaac, my wound grows painful; my exertions thus far have weakened me exceedingly; and with your permission, I will proceed to the cottage. Ah! I feel myself growing faint--fainter--fa-i-n-t;" and he sunk senseless into the other's arms; who, raising him, apparently without an effort, bore him into the house.

  [Footnote 1: However barbarous such a proceeding may appear to thousands in the present day of civilization and refinement, we can assure them, on the authority of numerous historians of that period, that it was a general custom with the early settlers of the west, to take the scalp of an Indian slain by their hand, whenever opportunity presented.]

  [Footnote 2: Backwoods name for a panther.]

  CHAPTER II.

  NEW CHARACTERS.

  When young Reynolds again regained his senses, it was some minutes before he could sufficiently recover from the confusion of ideas consequent upon his mishap, to follow up the train of events that had occurred to place him in his present situation. His first recollection was of the attack made upon him by the Indians; and it required considerable argument with himself, to prove conclusively, to his own mind, that he was not even now a captive to the savage foe. Gradually, one by one, each event recurred to his mind, until he had traced himself to the moment of his swooning in the arms of a tall, ungainly young man, called Isaac; but of what, had taken place since--where he now was--or what length of time had intervened--he had not the remotest idea. He was lying on his back, upon a rude, though by no means uncomfortable, bed; and, to the best of his judgment, within the four walls of some cabin--though to him but two of the walls were visible--owing to the quantity of skins of the buffalo, bear, and deer, which were suspended around the foot and front of his pallet. He was undressed; and, as he judged, upon applying his hand to the wounded part, had been treated with care; for it came in contact with a nicely arranged bandage of cloth, which was even now moist with some spirituous liquid. But what perplexed him most, was the peculiar light, with the aid of which, though dim, he could discern every object so distinctly. It could not proceed from a candle--it was too generally diffused; nor from the fire--it was too gray, and did not flicker; nor from the moon--it was not silvery enough: from what then did it proceed? It appeared the most like daylight; but this it could not be, he reasoned, from the fact that he was wounded just before night-fall--unless--and the idea seemed to startle him--unless he had lain in a senseless state for many hours, and it was indeed again morning. Determined, however, to satisfy himself on this point, he attempted to rise for the purpose; but found, to his no small surprise and regret, that he had not even strength sufficient to lift his body from the bed; and, therefore, that nothing was left him, but to surmise whatever he chose, until some one should appear to solve the riddle; which, he doubted not, would be ere long.

  While these reflections and surmises were rapidly passing through the mind of our hero--for such we must acknowledge him to be--he heard no sound indicating the immediate vicinity of any other human being; and turning his thoughts upon this latter, he was beginning to doubt whether, at the moment, he was not the only individual beneath the roof; when he heard a step, as of some one entering another apartment; and, directly following, a female voice addressed to some person within.

  "Have ye looked to the stranger agin, Ella, and moisted his bandage?"

  "I have, mother," was the answer, in a sweet and silvery voice, which caused our wounded hero to start with a thrill of pleasing astonishment.

  "And how appeared he, Ella?" continued the first speaker.

  "Why, I thought a little better," answered the same soft, musical voice; "he seemed asleep, and entirely tranquil."

  "God send it, gal, for he's had a tougher, sartin. Three days, now, nater's bin tugging away for him; and I'd hate to see him die now, arter all; and being the colonel's recommind, too; for Isaac says the colonel injuncted him strongly to take car o' him; and I'd do any thing to oblege sech a man as him. He didn't appear to have his senses, I reckon?"

  "I judged not," answered Ella; "though, from his tranquil sleep, I argued favorably of his case."

  "Well," rejoined the other, "it's my opine the crisis is at hand; and that he'll ayther come out o' this _lethargick_--as they calls it--a rational, or die straight off. 'Spose you look at him agin, Ella; or, stay, I'll look myself. Poor feller! how he did rave and run on 'bout his troubles at home, that's away off, until I all but cried, in reckoning how I'd feel ef it war Isaac as war going on so.".

  As the speaker concluded, she advanced to where the object of her remarks was lying; and, drawing aside in a gentle manner, some of the skins near his head, gazed upon him.

  As will be surmised by the reader, not a syllable of the foregoing colloquy had been lost upon Reynolds; who heard, with unbounded astonishment, of his narrow escape from that dark valley whence none who enter again return, and that three days had elapsed since he had fallen into an unconscious state. He learned, too, with regret, that he had been communicating matters--to what extent he knew not--to others, which he wished safely locked in his own breast; and judging it best, in the present instance, to dissemble a little, that his informant might not be aware of his having overheard her, he feigned to be asleep on her approach.

  "He's sleeping yit, poor creater," continued the hostess, as she bent over the bed of our hero, until he felt her breath upon his face. "I hope it arn't a going to be his final sleep--so young, and so handsome too! but, O dear, thar's no telling what them Injen bullets will do, for folks does say as how they have a knack o' pizening them, that's orful to tell on! O Lord o' marcy, Ella, child, do come here!" cried the dame suddenly: "I do believe he's coming to, for sartin."

  This latter speech was occasioned by a movement of the pretended sleeper, and the gradual opening of his eyes, with the rude stare of bewildered surprise natural to one in his supposed situation, and such as he would have exhibited without feigning, had the hostess been present some ten minutes sooner. Discovering, as already intimated, a returning consciousness on the part of her guest, the good woman drew back her head, but still kept her position by the bed, and her eyes fixed upon him, with an expression which betrayed a fear lest her hopes of this important event should prove entirely fallacious. Behind her, with timid step, stole up Ella, and, peeping over her shoulders, encountered the eyes of the young man beaming upon her, with a look which her acute perception told her was any thing but insane; and instantly starting back, the blood rushed upward, crimsoning her neck and face with a beautiful glow. As for Reynolds--in whom, as already stated, the voice of Ella alone was sufficient to awaken a thrill of pleasure--no sooner did he behold her, though but for an instant, than he felt that thrill revived with a sensation, which, in
spite of himself, he knew was expressed in his own countenance; and he hastened to speak, in order as much as possible to conceal it.

  "Will you have the goodness, madam, to inform me where I am?"

  "Thar, thar, Ella, child!" exclaimed the matron, joyously; "I told ye so--I know'd it--he's come to, for sartin--the Lord be praised!" Then addressing herself to Reynolds, she continued: "Whar are you, stranger, do you ax? Why you're in the cabin o' Ben Younker--as honest a man as ever shot a painter--who's my husband, and father of Isaac Younker, what brought ye here, according to the directions of Colonel Boone, arter you war shot by the Injens, the varmints, three days ago; and uncle of Ella Barnwell here, as I calls daughter, 'cause her parents is dead, poor creaters, and she hadn't a home to go to, but come'd to live with us, that are fetching her up in a a dutiful way;" and the good woman concluded her lucid account of family matters with a sound that much resembled a person taking breath after some laborious exertion.

  "And is it possible," answered Reynolds, who hastened to reply, in order to conceal a strong inclination he felt for laughing, "that I have lain here three whole days?"

  "Three days, and four nights, and part o' another day, jest as true as buffaloes run in cane-brakes, and Injen varmints shoot white folks whensomever they git a chance," replied Mrs. Younker, with great volubility. "And Ella, the darling, has tended on ye like you war her own nateral born brother; and Isaac, and Ben, and myself ha' tended on ye too, while you war raving and running on at an orful rate, though you've had the best bed, and best o' every thing we've got in the house."

  "For all of which I am at a loss for terms to express my gratitude," returned Reynolds, coloring slightly as he thought of the assiduous attentions he had unconsciously received from Ella Barnwell, who already began to be an object in his eyes of no little importance.