TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION! STORIES FOUNDED 0N

 

 

 

 

82.50 a year. Entered at the Post Omce at New York. N. Y., as Second Class Mail Matter. Copyrighted in 1882 by Emma: AND ADAMS. August 30. 1882.

 

 

st 1 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, p 1
V01. II. Nuxlxlfimer. No. 93 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK Fiverggfits. NO. 38.

THE SETTLER’S SON; orfleeemfesgin Wilderness and Clearing.

BY EDWARD S- ELLIS-

 

 

THE BEAR GRAPPLED AND STRUGGLED WITH THE SAW, WHICH WAS TEARING ITS WAY INTO HIS VITALS.

 

 

, by.

   

 

 

   
  
 
  
 
 
  
    
    
 
     
   
  
     
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
   
    
   
 
  
   
  
   
 
  
  
  
   
  

 

  The'Settler’s Son;

A True Story of Early Border Idle.
BY EDWARD S. ELLIS.
. , CHAPTER I. ,
wanna AND son “rRosrncrING” in run WIL-

' Dames—43E INDIAN CAMP—THE NEW HOME

" ~n Baum—BOAT GONE.
, A MAN and boyare in a little boat gliding
' "down-r the stately Ohio. x The boat is rigged
with a‘ small sail, (and With wind and current
- moyes onward easily and rapidly. The two

m are Lawrence Bingham and his son
. , rt—a lad of twelve.- They are from the
‘ ‘ then frontier, settlement, or post of Riverton,

‘, ‘V which theyhad reached only a few days before,

V coming from Perms Ivania to seek a new home
in the wilderness. here now are great cities,
,, thriving towns, fine farms, and the hum of all
v manner'of industries, there was then, in 1798
‘ only the primeval forest, the red sava e, and
w r the game that was his support. Lure by the

 r beauty of the land, and the promise of its early
, r ..settlement, Mr. Bingham went thither, and
. j  borrowing the pleasure boat of Col. Ringgold,

3 the Veteran ,post commander at River-ton,
 'drgpxped down stream on a tour of observation.
ey are out in the middle of the deep-flowing

, ,r, river, miles below Riverton, when a cry from
 Herbert arrested the father’s attention. “What
, isthal; yonder?" demanded the boy, who was
, on the look—out in the bow of the life-boat. He

a , pointed toward the Kentucky shore.

I “.Somc animal which has entered the water
and is about to swim across.” I
“A heart” . . ~
“No; it is a deer; don’t you see its antlers?”
The head,,lyi horizontal cu the surface,
and surmounted y the prong-like horns, was
now plainly discovered, gliding rapidly across

stream. , .
f ‘ “Let us overtake it!” exclaimed the boy, “ we
'3 canheaditofll” , ‘ .
' “I, don’t know about that,” said Mr. Bing-

ham,"‘but wewill ta.” . A r ,
~ , The boat was head toward the Ohio side of
the stream, with the view of intercepting the
deer; but the latter had mulled the danger, and
, , a celerl in the water, almost equal
g to open the and; for, turning still more
-, domain, he shot forde like a‘ startled

fish; and a few moments later, as his feet
touched bottom, his huge Mathew-covered
bod-y. rose to view, with the water drip in
item it; he walked ‘a few steps, until. he 5
upon  dry earth, when he turned, cast
,  look 11 those who had prev
‘snmeditointorfore wit him, and then plunged

, into 35 woods, and disappeared.

- 4. I‘ l. yonder is something which looks as
.fionfiwe are not the only persons who are in
this “dim "Wald Mr. Bingbam, poin ' to
  the stream, where ‘a bin
column ofsmoke was rising perpendicularly in

thestlll air. r
, »‘1,"'It is the smoke from somebody’s camp-fire.”
., ,“ Are they white people?” asked Herbert.
‘ “You are asking rather a difficult, question,”
smiled Mr. Bingham. “I am inclined to think,
however that the people who are gathered
 that camp—fire are the red-skins.” ‘
5' I don’t Buplpose there are many white pe le
here one ‘ a on; the river, or in the eetfie-
meats. , ow future they awayi” '
.“ About half smile, cancer as I can
«“ Do you think they will see us?” .
a f" Hard] , although it would make little dif-
ference whethgr theydo crust, as they are at
us. y

(

 

 

 

 

:1 always fee a littleflrightoned when I meet an
 ‘ When I was out hunting the other
gag, I was halfstartled out of my senses, when

 

pulls? the fin to’driuk to see a teat
1 Miami sitting olea’ning his gifts."
I“, owdid you know. whether he was a Mi-
;aml“ wanes, Wyandot, or Potawatomiel”
} ff couldn’t hays told by his dress or manner;
but have: an Indian, that I remember seeing
in marten, a Week ago, and I heard Col. Ring

to the newsroom.”

   

- :‘lhdirentures in Wilderness and Clearing,

judge.” I
l

' “That ma be: but somehow or other, father, '

anthem , _
 was commentinth Mr v

' id, »flmthewasaMiami.’l. . ,_
 ne'great 
'- but! felt rery, ' ' when and
‘to get a‘my from him. fem _' my core héaaw,
I con n’t help looking;

 

 

"' They are a shall e poo 1e,” remarked Kr.
Bmgham, as much to imse aeyto theboy. ,“I
believe Colonel Ringgold has uniformly treated,
them kindly, ,and to that as much as to the
frowning block-house, do they owe their safety
thus far. ’ i . '

“ But, father, if I am not greatly mistaken,
yonder is one of them, standing upon the
shore." ‘ ' _
‘ Herbert was right; for at a point, nearly op-
Eosite that of the camp-fire. they saw an Indian

unter, standing in full view.‘ He had a. rifle
in his hand, and seemed to be watching the little
boat with great interest. ~Whether he had ever
before seen such a contrivance as a sail, is un-
ccrtain, but he was interested in what was to
him a novel mode of propulsion.

“ Why are you runnin so close to the shore?”
inquired Herbert, as he 0 erved that their boat
kept but a. few yards from the Ohio bank.

“, Well, we shall lose nothing by vin that
camp-fire as wide a berth as ossib a. don’t
say that we have anything to ear, but is ore is
no tellin what strange ideas may enter into the
head of t at savage standing yonder.”

Herbert had no doubt of the prudence of his
father, although he did not express'an fears.
The Indian surveyedlthem until theyh floated
quite a distance below him, when he turned
away in the direction of the camp-fire.

“ He may watch for us to come back,” re-
marked-Herbert, when they had regained the
middle or the current, . and were sailing as
usua . ~

“How can he know that we intend to re-
turn?” asde the father.

“ If he is not a stranger in these parts, he
must have remembered that it belon s to Colonel
Ringgold, and he could see that we ad no load
with us, so that we cannot be going very far.”

“You talk like an old hunter,” laughed Mr.
Bingham, “one would be sure that you had
s on: "several years, instead of weeks, in the

es . .

“I s’pose I’ve learned a cod deal from hear-
ing the hunters talk when . ey’re together.”

or friends were now two or three miles from
Riverton, and both were closely scanning the
shores, for some place which might invite them
toland. As yet, the monotony of the woods
remained unbroken, but suddenly Herbert called
out with an expression of delight:—

, “ Yonder lathe very place 1'

“Where?”

e answered by pointing to a spot on the
Ohio shore, where wash small clearing covered

,with rank grasa, and through the center of
which ran quite a large stream, debouching

into the river with considerable force.

The boat was instantly turned in that direc»

'tion, 3d a few moments later, father and son
ate p ~ upon the bank. The sail was lowered,

an the vessel pulled high and d , where there

was no danger of its being waehe away by the”

current. » .

“ Do you know why I like this place?” asked
Herbert, asthe walked up the bank.

“I presume cause it difi’ers from the rest
of the country through which we have been
passing. a a »

“ 0; that stream of water is just the‘thlng.

We will put up a saw-mill and saw boards and

planks for the settlers alo ‘ the river.” '

Mr. Bingham started. r‘fslt that his son
had uttered a. sentence which would decide an
era in the lives of himself and family. Build a
saw-mi i'the very idea. How singular that it
did not ‘ cur to him; when he first noticed the
stream pouring into the riverl How much
more singular that none of the settlers had
come prepared for such a business, for which
there was so much urgent call. n

In the some moment, in which Herbert ut-

Ttered the sentence regarding the new project,

his-father resolved that it should be carried out.
He did not take time to consider the details, but
he comprehended that it was' possible, and that
there Was no earthly reason to deter him.

A more critical examinationtot the stream
was'now made. It could not have been better
adapted toits purpose. It was uite broad and
rap 6, with a considerable f A com ara-

,tively slight dam would answer, as its to nme

' made it unnecessary that there should be much

back water. The bed-of the stream la. semal
feet below the in‘closing banks; and, n .8112?“

rit was the very. place which an 41an

filer Would have selected as the location ot‘his
nos-or the  (who; {11:11:

was t e broad

re house should be erected V
in this was an

clearing alluded to.,_ i-Surroun

'  of f‘open wood’keithat is, e trees were 

l

 

sparsely spread over the area; and below it was
entirely devoid of under wth. It was as it
some fierce fire had rage here years before de‘
stroylngdhe shrubbery and vegetation which
rew near the-earth, while the lar e timber was ‘
cit clear and clean, as if dressed r the wood—
man’s ax. _
' When the settlers had wandered for several
hours through the woods and up the stream,
they finally seated themselves upon a fallen

ee.

“ I don’t believa there isa spot on the whole
of Ohio, which can suit us better,” remarked
Mr. Bingham. “ Nature intendedthis stream
to run a saw~mi11.” v ' I

“ Do you mean to put up one, father?”

.“The idea never occurred to me until you
spoke of it.’ I have thought considerable about
it in the last hour qr two, and I will say that
the scheme strikes me as a good one.”

“ But where can you get the saw 3”

“For that I shall have to go to Pittsburg.
There are some other indispensable articles,
which I shall also be obliged to procure from
that lace. Why didn’t you think of the saw-
mill, efore we started?” asked the father With
a smile. »

“ But how are you going to Pittsburgl”

“ I shall borrow the colonel’s boat and take a
sail up the river; that will be much easier than
walking.” r v

“Yes: andyou can bring me a good lot of
books; for I’ve read everything through that
we have.” »

“ Have you read the Bible through?”

“Yes, Slr; I am now going through it for the
third time—I have not missed a day since little(
sister Florence died two years ago.” > _

“ How long do you intend 4o keep up this
practice of reading the Bible?”

Herbert, uttered with a glowiu eye.

“But won’t it st to be an 01 story after you
have gone throu it several times?’ ,

Herbert looks up in surprise at his father,
who smiled and added:

“ My dear son, nothing has pleased the more
than this daily habit which you have formed of
reading the Bible. Keep it up till your dying
day; let nothing Igevent you ;‘ if you go abroad,
carry the little ible 0 Florence with you.
Let it be a rule and a guideto your actions, and,
there is no fear of its ever becoming distasteful

becoming Weaker than it now is}!

books to read—I hope
great pile of them.”
“ Delpend upon it, son. I shall not forget
when make the trip 11 the river. Bu I
the sun is down behin the tree—tops, and it is
time we began to return.” _ ‘ '
Father and son rose from the tree upon which
they had been sitting, when the quick e e of
the latter detected a movement bencat the,
trunk and the next instant an arrowy head
darted straight out With lightnin rlike quick-
ness, just touching the knee of r. Bingham,
jacocimpauied at‘the saute time by a short sharp ,
ratt e. ~ . ' . «
“ Oh father! a rattlesnake! he has bitten you I”
called out Herbert, darting backward, and

you will bring me a

which to slay the reptile;

“No, he hasn’t, but he came uncomfortably
near it. Keep back, fol‘ he is a big
is terribly angry.” » , ' _

The fan 5 o the re tile entered the trowsers~
leg of Mr. ingham, ut did not touch the skin.
The serpent did-what his species seldom do; he
made a slight miscalculation, just sumcient to \
allow his victim tomcape—a favor which the
latter did not seem disposed to reciprocate. , ‘
The rattlesnake lay coiled beneath3_tha log
' nwhich our two friends were sitting, and

the same time, during their conversation,
could have buried his fangs in either of their
ankles; but not until they ruse together and

reduced a 'ar in the, trunk which covered it

iditmaketeattem 1:. ~ ~r " _

A parent] satisfie , after striking, it drew
bac its he , , and only the gleam an .glitter of
a slight gortion of its cell could be discerncd— .
enough, owever,
commonly large one. .

u
a

after he’had retreated several yards, and 3am“ '
fled himself thathe had suflered no harm, “ and
mmtkfllhim." , ' .I ‘ 7‘
. ’,:_“Howare we going to get a. chance at him,
3.5 We: he stays under the l l". ‘ '
“. e’ll roll it over and then
“Won’t that be too dan erode?”

 

“\We can manage t ;’you holdv‘m

 

 

“ As long as I live.” was the prompt reply of :

to you, or of its influence over your conduct -

you I
see

looking hurriedly around for some missile with y‘ ‘

fellow, and L'

to show thht it was an un—'\ '

“ He is an ugly customer,” said Mr. Bingha‘m, 

oothim.”  V“


l

\

“But, father, I want books to study, and *

P .



 

 

 

 

S

 

   
  
   
 

 

   

1»
l
l,
9,
,.
l,

 

  
  
   
 

, what I can do."

‘ upon reaching the stream, the

A deal to dim the colorin

'the father’s footsteps as suddenl

 

 This fact made thy;0

erasing
'. , Y

 

I

 rSettler’s Son. *

 

 

and’lgeep at a safe distance until I'bring him

out.

“ Shall I shoot him?" v '

"Do you think you can do it? You must
shatter his head; we don’t want to, torture him
by mangling his body,”

“Just give me the chance; I will show you

Mr. Bingham now walked carefully to the
branches of the fallen tree. Grasping two of
these, separated by several feet, he dallied with
them a moment, and then, by a sudden wrench,
turned the trunk half oVer, leaving exposed
the glittering coil of an immense rattlesnake.

Startled by this uncovering of his retreat, the
reptile raised his head and waved it hither and
yon, as if looking for something at which to
strike. The next instant the rifle of Herbert
Bingham was dischar ed, and the bullet strik-
in the small head 0 the monster smashed it
on of all shape or semblance. The Crotalus

' species is killed with extraordinary ease, and

after a few furious struggles, it subsided into
death. ‘

“There is one dispute of our claim settled,”
laughed Mr. Bingham. “You made a 00d
shot, Herbert; but it is almost dark, an we
should have started long 0."

The hurried downlto t eriver-bank to em—
iark or home, but to their su rise and alarm,
at'was gone!

 

CHAPTER II.

THE SUCCESSFUL SEARCH—A SINGULAB. OCCUR-
RENCE—THE FLAT—BOAr-DANGnn—rnn LN-
DIAN CAiiPrian.

“ WHAT can be the meaning of thisl" asked

'Mr. Bingham, looking furtivelyaround him,

when he found that the boat was really gone.
"'It must have floated away.”
“Impossible; for I pulled it about clear from
the water.” '
“ Hasn’t the river risen while we were gone?”
“ The rain which we had a few days ago may
have caused it to rise, but it could not have been
more than a few inches—mot enough disturb
the boat. I don’t know what Colonel ‘nggold

‘ will think of us if we allow it to be lost in that

manner. But We cannot afford to lose it,” ad-
ded Mr. Bingham, speaking more earnestly.
“ Let’s make a search. ’ ~

“ Which way shall we go?”

“ You go up the river- and I will go down: the ‘

moment one of us catches sight of it, he must
whistle to the other." .

As time was passing, the two instantly separ-
ated, and began tramping through the under—
growth, along-shore, for the boat which had so
mysteriously disa peered. When Herbert
reached the mout ‘of the stream, already
referred. to, he was puzzled awhile as to the
manner in‘which he s ould c 059 it. HoweVer,
after considerable search, g found a place,
where he could spring from one stone to an-
other, and finally land upon the opposite side,
where he diligently prosecuted his hunt.

Mr. Bingham, as he passed down the river
bank was somewhat uneasy at what had-occur-
red. Taken in connection with the comp-fire
and the Indian, who had watched them so at-

tentively as they descended the river. it made

in apprehensive of danger, and (hill. great
of the icture he had
formed in his mind, w ile ram ling through
the wood. . .

He passad several hundred yards down-
stream, carefully examining the s oresyand at
every suitable opportunity, he looked out upon
the rivsr. as far as the athering darkness
would permit; but as at 8 had discovered
nothing which could ord a clew to the miss-
in vessel. V

‘inally he paused, anfl was debating the pru-
dence of proceedin urther, when he was
startled by hearing t_ 0 Signal agreed upon. A
short, tremulous whistle, uttered quickly, as if
the boy were alarmed, at something, arrested
_ y as if the
fihreatened danger had risen in the path before

1m: ‘
- ‘ Scarcelg'epausing a moment, he turned on his
11991 and gun retracing his footsteps, as rapid-
liy as 'the nature of the ground Would permit.

he signal, reipeated at every few seconds’ in-
termission. a d not allay his alarm; and, not

1 until he had‘twice responded to it, did it cease.

Herbert aimed , while his father did.
. fit the more uneas ;
and.an he reached the brawlin torrent, 6
did 3°“ gnu” 10118 enough to'fin ameans of

$013817 shod. but Sailing in, and waded
m3 ’ hurrying  in this manner, when
F931!” ’llbon t ahead It was lying

W" \- "3  .

 

under the bank,-drawn up in precisely the
manner in which it had been‘left. Indeed the
similarity. Was so great, that Mr. Bingham
looked around and examined the contour of the
shore to make sure this was not the precise spot
in which he had left it; but the location of the
creek settled this matter beyond dispute.

Although greatly perplexed to understand
the meaning of this, he was now more concern—
ed; for his child. He saw nothing of him; but
while endeavoring to pierce the gloom, the boy
himself came silently from the wood and stood
beside him. ' ‘

“ Thank Heaven!” excldimed the father. “ I
was fearful something had happened toyou.
Have you learned who ran away with the
boat?” .

“ I saw a man, that I think did it.”

“Where, and who is hel”

“I was looking along-shore for the boat,
when I heard a noise as if it were grating on
the sand and the next minute, I caught sight
of it, an saw a mah pulling it up on the bank.
I asked him what business he had with it, but
he made no answer, but turned round and look-
ed at me a moment, and then walked away,
without speaking a word.” -

“ Was he a white man or an Indian?”

“‘He was a white man dressed like a hunter.”

“ Haven’t you see anything of him since?”

“ Nothing at all; 1 was afraid he might come
backagain and make trouble, so I called to you
prett often." .

“ he whole thing looks as stran asever;
but, we have already lost a great de of time."

The boat was shoved into the water, the two
sprung in, lifted the sail. and Mr. Bingham
took his position at the rudder as before. . There
was still quite a. breeze, and they were wafted
pleasantly and swiftly homeward. As before,
they took the center |of the river, keeping as
ngarly as possible, equally distant from each
s ore. t '

They had progressed but a short distance,
when the full moon rose above the tree-tops, and
shed such a light upon the river, that they
sailed with as much certainty as at noon day.
The scene was grand and, impressive, but our
friends could have much preferred that absolute
darkness should have incloscd them. There
was an unpleasant sense of their conspicuous
position, when they would have chosen to
reach home unobserved.

The history of the aborigines of this country,

shows that as a rule, they cannot be trusted.
Abused, swindled and outraged as they have
been, and as they still are, and always will be,
so long as an\ honest Indian trader or agent is
unknown, yet the nature of the North American
Indian is‘ melancholy, sullen, revengeful and
treacherous. The celebrated treaty of Green-
ville, brought about by the con summate general—
ship of Anthony Wayne, held the Delawares,
.Potawatomies, hawanees, and Miamies in an
iron gr until the whirlwind of ,war swept
over the est in 1812' but it was a forced peace,
into which many and many a dusky-hued son
of the forest entered unwillingly.
‘ l When Herbert Bingham expressed his fear of
«meeting an Indian alone, he only gave utterance
to the general feeling which obtained among
the more mature settlers. There Was a deep—
seated distrust of them, which was shown by
the care which Colonel Ringgold teak to keep
the block-house in good repair, and the pains to
which he went to maintain a reserve of pic
Visions and ammunition within it.

This will make plain the cause of Mr. Bing—
ham’s wish to reach home quietly and unob-
served, and will show why he steered as far
away as possible from the Indian'camp-fire.
So now they unconsciously lowered their voiie’s‘i
when they spoke to each other, and glan
from shore to shore, and up and down the
stream, as if fearful of some approaching

dan er. r

All at once the saw through. the partial
gloom, a huge dark . y floating around a bend
n the river, directly towerd them. There was
no light or appearance of life upon it, and it
caused consi arable surprise upon the part of
our two friends. ,

f‘ What do you imagine itto be?” asked Mr.

Bin ham.

“fibers has been quite a freshet you know,
and this may be some settler’s house floating
down the river.” . s r

“No; Ithink itisaflat-boat.” I

“Oh! yes, certainly it is; I can see its shape,
now since you have and it.” , i. ,
“ Hal-kl don’t you-‘- ear the creek of the 10 ,
aw omen can soothe wotorflagfi,
’asthey work the wayward?" , ,  '

I All know withnwtlatidittinotiiesin slight

 

          

 

this

 

sound can be heard on a still summer ni ht, and
there is scarcely a school boy who isnot amiliar
with the statement that the cry of “ All’s Well 1”
can be heard from New to Old Gibraltar, the
stations being something lessthau a dozen miles

apart. .
Although the flat—boat and sailing vessel were

separated a good half—mile, yet our friends
plainly heard the slightest sound upon it. The
creaking of the great swinging oar, the footstep
of the man who controlled, it, and even his
“puff” as he pausad, as though tired from his
exertions: these could not have been more

audible if uttered within a dozen feet of them. v I

The sailing boat was now shooting through
the water ata rapid rate, and the two crafts
were swiftly nearing each other. The sail was
lowered when within a few hundred yards of
meeting.

“There may be some friends on board who
will be glad to see us. I will hail them.”

But before Mr. Bingham could do so. several
heads appeared at the gunwale of ‘ the flat~boat,
and cal ed out to them: i

“Who are you?” . i

“Mr. Bingham and son, returning to the
settlement alone.” ‘

“Do you use those kind of boats in these
parts?” I

“We do, although I believe they are not

generall in use,” replied Mr. Bingham, as be‘

run his t alongside and allowed it todrift a
short distance with the large one. “May I ask
where you are from yourself?”

“A few miles from Pittsburg. We are
bound down the river, about a dozen miles from
here I suppose.” ' , ,

Our friends inquired several of their names,"

but they heard none which they recognized, ,
nor did the bring any news of special v interest .

or note. 11 reply to an inquiry ’the said
there hadrbeen several shots fired it thzm on

their way down;’but no damage was done, and 3

they saw nothing of enemies.

There being nothing'to gain ,by further com- A 3 ~

panionship Mr. Bingbam again raised his sail,
and his little craft sped rapid] on its way.
Less than a dozen yards was st'l intervenin
between them when the same person wit
whom they had been holding their conVersation
called out to them: V ‘ .

“ You will find a campfire of Indians round
the bend. Be careful of them.” I

“Did they molest you?" r .

“ No; but I think they would have done so 'it

they hadn’t seen we were plagued. I don’t I
tron ‘

16 v

the two '
in'to meet.
served to render

think they will be afraid to

And again exchanging farew
crafts separated, never a
admonition‘of the flat-boa

Mr. Bin ham apprehensive. He held no wellvv

defined ear, except a general distrust of the
Indians, of whom, as yet, he had not received.-
the first evidence of hostile intent tov'vard himw

self . V

It was not long before they passed the bend,
where they had first caught ‘ ht of the '3; L
boat, when they discovered e camp-fire to

which the emigrants had alluded. Ascorrectly ,
as they could judge,-it was directly opposite I

the opoint where they had seen the column of
smTh e filtering through the tree-tops. ~ '
a

river, and its broad rays were i:
upon the stream, even to the opposite side
which fact, taken in connection
usually bright moonlight, made concealment
upon the river almost out pf the question.
“Wem’aay as well begun the center of the
stream,”

how they can 'ny miss observing us.”

“ grounds it be best to run close to the  ‘
side. ' l . ,,
“But the light from the campfire reaches, '

clear across.”
“ It is very faint there.” .
“ The moonlight is very strong, and rwon't It

be worse for us to attempt concealment and . ’

fail, than to sail boldl
had no fear?” asked
really feeling in a dilemma as
for him to take. , _ _
“But don’t you see the moon has not mean
high enough to show upon the shore?) .
‘ges'wutIdo not see as that Will help us
an . . .
ith this, Mr. Bingham ran his hat to the

forward, as the h we
.Bin ham of alien,

gpodte side of the-river, kee is clogs to
eshoreaa pou'ble. The br t m‘oon  :
less than one-half the distance above the ho .

   
 
 

 SNOW 0f the W8? ' m 
Vt linootahadowthe 
' } :L .

it 1' I . . , , , 1‘ V

_yupoititsway._i.

 

‘.

  

  

fire stood upon the verggdge fig; 131:: _
win on’ ‘

with the uni ’

d Mr. Bingham, “ for I don’t see- 

thebestcourse _'

   
    
   
   
   
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
    
  
 
 
    
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
   
   
 
   
  
 
  
  
    
    
   
  
   
   
  
   
  
   

  

 

  

' The . Settlers 

 

 

 

The hearts of our friends throbbed faster
than usual, as they came opposite the camp—fire,
and they did not dare to trust themselvos to
speak, so fearful were they of attractin atten-
tion. The sail would have been lowere before
reaching this point, but for the apprehension
Mr. Bingham felt that the slight noise‘ would
attract the attention of those whom they were
so anxious to avoid.

Thus for, although they had continually

’glanced toward the campfire, they had seen
nothing of the Indians; but, when they entered
the shade they discovered several figures pass
between them and the light. Their shadows,
grotesquely lengthened,,were thrown far out
upon the stream, and they themselves had the
up arance of giants as they floated to and fro.

ll at once Mr. Bingham reached up and
caught the branch of a. tree in his hand, and
held the boat fast.

“’Sh! I think they have discovered us!" he

whispered.

CHAPTER III.

Bonn AGAIN—THE JOURNEY TO PITTSBURG—
.RETUBN—BTUDIES——THE NEW SAWMILL—Rn
MOVAL TO THE NEW noun.

FATHER and son held their breath in suspense.
Two of the Indians seemed to be looking to-
ward them, and one of them raised his gun, as
if he intended to shoot. It was a fearful mo-

1 ' I ment; they expected each moment to hear the

report, and perhaps the bullet would prove
 fatal to one or the other. Both lifted their
hearts to God and prayed Him that He would
stay the arm or turn aside the missile. Feeling
that no igood could be accomplished by remain-
ing stat onary, Mr. Bingham loosened his hold
, and the boat glided forward again.
. The red—man did not fire and the probability
is that he did not intend to do so; but our

‘ _ friends drew a great sigh of relief when they

had passed beyond the camp-fire, greater than

that experieiiced a half-hour later, when they

touched the shore at Riverton, drew the boat
up to the bank and wended their way home.

~ It beln finally decided after a long consulta-
tion wig wife and friends that the mill
should be erected, the next step. was to get the
necessary-materials. The most img‘ortant of

_ these could on] be obtained at Pitts rg The
best, and, in not, almost the on] means of

making a journey thither was With Colonel .

Herbert was anxious to ac-

company his father, he bein fearful that his

supply of books would be orgotten; but his

nts thought dilferent and be was left he-

" n . It was a beautiful morning that Mr.
Bingham bade his family and friends good-by
and hoisting his sail, sped up the Ohio tower

Binggold's boat.

' . its source, or more properly where it first as.

' comes ltsname. The journey was accomplihed
in less than a week, without any incident-wor-
. thy of note, and the miller at once ,s’et about
: procuring the much-needed articles. :
Two saws of the best metal, besides a. con la
handmws, some flfty yards of belting, an a
j large nautity of iron, such as he knew would
i be edin the con ction and re ‘r of the
mill, Were purchased. his absorbs consider-
'. able of the milier’s funds, but he had reserved
leuty with which to redeem his promise tohis
gay, and he did not forget him. Arithmetics,
rph lowphies, books of revel and adventure,
$05111 his: and miscellaneous books, which in
, one days cent far more than they do now, and
r then the settler looked about him for some
means of transportin his freight down the
_ river. The boat of clone] Ringgold was un-
‘ equal to the task-of carrying them, and he,
’ therefore looked fora flat— on descending the
river, as he knew scarcely a day ed without
one starting either from Pitts urg or some
I point above. ,
This, however, necessitateda dela of several

"days, but be secured one at last, an finding itsl

owners very willing to carry whatever he
wished, he made still further purchases for his
embryo saw-mill and had them placed on board.
The books he carried in his own boat, and em—
barked on his downward voyage atthe same
time that the balky flat-boat drifted slowly
down the oung lilo. '
v‘ Impeli ' b wind, he journeyed much more
rapid y ban is friends, and touched at River-
ton in due time, with what, to Herbert, was the
most valuable cargo that was ever transported
to the West. The boy, as perhaps we should
_ have stated lo ago, was ‘very studious, and
this disposition ad been carefully encour
', and directed byliis mother, who, well educn
 herself, let 29m
instruction her

son. r , ,
‘Ehe greatest blessing which a child can have
agood bother,   calamity which.

, .

a portion of every day for the

 

   

can befall him is her loss. Herbert Bingham
had been highly favored in this respect. Al-
most the firs sentences he learned to lisp were
those which made up his childhood’s prayer at
his mother’s knee, and when his mind grew and
became filled with the curiosity natural to those
of his age, he rarely failed of having it gratified
when he went to his beloved mother. Her
purest pleasure was in the instruction of the
Male boy and girl; but, when the latter was
laid in her tiny grave, beneath the old oak in
her native village, then her boy seemed drawn
to her by a still stronger chord of affection than
before.

F'ew mothers know how to restrain and tem-
per their affection for their children. Mercy
so often usurps the place of justice, that the
child is spoiled. It is a severe task for an af-
fectionate parent to witness the pain of her
own child, even though there be a certainty
that it is necessary for its vigorous moral
growth. A boy loves the heart only the more
warmly, and respects the hand the more true,
which prompts and administers the punishment
for wrong doing, and that teacher who is not
merely kind, but who is eminentl just to all, is
the one whose memory shal be fragrant
through all time to those who have sat under
his instruction. -

Herbert devoured with avidity over and over
all the books within his reach, and made a cir-
cuit of Riverton, upon his arrival, for quest of
more mental food. He was only partially sat-
isfied. Few of the settlers had anything more
than a Bible and an old almanac or two, and
these were accessible in his own family. Here
and there, he found a treasure, but the owner
had fully as exalted an opinion of it, as he had
himself, and it therefore availed him Httle.

But when the little boat of Colonel Ringgold
touched at the wharf and he saw the pile of
books, he could not restrain his joy. Fumbling
his hands through them. and glancing at a few,
to make sure he was not dreaming, he whirled
around, and dashed away to his mother, that
she might share in his delight.

“ Oh mother! mother! ther has brought me
ten thousand booksl”

‘fII—Iow many?” she asked with her quiet
sm1 a.

“ Why, I think there must be—over twenty.”

“Ah! that is quite a difference; of course he
would not forget ou—" '

But the exci youngster had dashed down
to the boat again to make sure that not one of
his prizes were in danger. They were soon
taken out, and with his arms, endeavoring to
grasp more than usual, started on a run home-
ward. The natural co uences followed. The
pile of books reaching so igh that his View of
what was directly in front was shut oif,he did
not see the large stone which lay in his path,
nor was he aware of its existence, until he was
precipitated over it, and his books were scat-
tered in every direction.

By this time, he had gained an idea of his
undue haste, and he became more deliberate in
his movements. After a time, the books were
all safely transported to the house where they
were staying, and he instantly became so ab-
sorbed in them, as to be oblivious to the saw—
mill, new home, or anything at all in the out-
side world. Father and mother looked at each
other, smiled quietly and concluded to let him
alone for the present.

The settlers of Riverton took fully as much
concern in the new saw-mill as did the pro-
prietor, for the had agrospective interest in
it; and they vo unteere all the assistance he
could need, and he ladly accapted their prof-
fer. It would have en a task, amounting al-
most to an im ibility, for a single man,
alone and unai ed. to erect a saw-mill. Equally
Herculean tasks may have been performed in
the world’s history. but Mr. Bingham hardly
felt that he was the man to erform them.

A few days later, the flat- out was seen, and
Colonel Ringgold himself and half edema of
the settlers rowed out to intercept it. Finding
everything right they sailed on down-stream,
unti they reached the site of the new mill,
when they took down their sail and waited for
their more tardy friends.

The flat-boat discharged her load, while float-
ing down current, and in their trips the little
sai boat deposited it upon the shore. The men
were libera 1y paid for bringing it from Pitts-
bur , pleasant wishes interchanged and the
wor was immediately begun.

It would be uninteresting to ve all the de-
tails of the erection of the saw-m 1. Necesslg
the mother of invention, and the settlers h

acquired. a deftneas in the construction of
’ buildings, which did them good service; Under-

Y. .,/

   

 

standing the immense work which would be re—
quired of the mill, Mr. Bingham prudently re—9
solved to make itso firmly and securely as to
compel it to die of old age when a pro or time
should come for a cessation of its usefu ness. .

The foundation was laid “broad and sure,”
the timbers were massive and firm, and as it
gradually approached completion, its ponderous
parts would have attracted the notice of an , ,
passer-by. The architecture was rude, but ll ‘
answered its ends as well as if it came from the .
hands of the most famons architects of the time. ‘

The banks were then made, and made too,“
with the knowled e that in all probability they
would be often ca led upon to bear a prodigious
pressure. Lastly the powerful gates were put
together, closed, and t e back-water began ra <
idly to collect until it covered on area of in y
an acre, the center of which was very deep.
When it reached this point, it began flowing off
at an opening which had been left for its escape,
provided on purpose to meet the extraordinary
pressure of a freshet, when the mill-gates and
mill itself would be endangered. , ‘

All being ready, and a log adjusted, Mr.
Bingham turned the water upon the overshot
wheel. Never did he forget the thrill which
passed through him, as, after a moment’spause .
he heard it begin revolving, and then observed
the saw slowly rise and fall, and immediately
dart up and down with an eager ra idity, as if
anxiousto try its teeth 11 on somet ing. Then
as it nipped the end 0 the huge log, what a
smooth line it instantly bit across it! and then
how it plunged strai ht into the massive trunk,
and raged and crunc ed, and buried the dust up
and down, as if it real] enjoyed the sport!

All this time, Mr. ingham, Colonel Ring-
gold and their friends, stood looking upon the
action of the saw with the most unbounded ad-
miration and delight. The perfect accuracy
with which it wor ed was but the natural re-
ward of the care taken in and the labor bestowed
upon it, and the conqueror never received his
laurels with more pleasure than did they all
this evidence of absolute success.

They now turned their attention to the in-
terior working of the mill. The large wheel

' turned slowly and regularly, and the connect—

ing band worked toanicety; the flow of the
water was found more than suflicient to run it
perpetually. Indeed the surplus was now run—
nin off at the waste gate. , -

“ there any improvement {on can suggest?”
asked Colonel Ringgold, as t ey finally came
back to where the saw was cutting its way so
nicely through the log.

“None at .1111, unless it be in the reverse
motion,” replied Mr. Bingham; “we will speed- ‘

.ily test that.”

The saw having now reached the extremity ’r
of the log, the water was slackened, the “ re—
verse,” ap lied, d it danced backward, as
does an at lete, en dallying with his adver-
sary preparatory to dealing the deciding blow.

‘ it works likea charm,” said Mr. Bingham,
unable to repress his deli ht. “ I am now ready
to takg contracts for uilding villages and

“ Your first work, I sup , will be in putting
up ourself a. house an what buildings you ,
need: after that I think _we can keep you run» '
nin awhile.”

“ es; my next duty is to erect a house for
my famil . I will leave them in River-ton
until it is nished.” ‘

“ Of course; but it is now well toward night,
so we may as well go home together.” -'

“ Wait a half-hour lon er until I havesawed
this log into planks, and will be ready.”

This was done, and just as the sun was set-
ting, the little pai'ty embarked and made their
way, home to Riverton. '

0n the mon‘ow,Mr. Bingham brought his son v
and two men (who had vo unteered their assist-
ance) back with him. The latter sctto works
felling trees, while the first devotedhis whole
time to sawmg them 11 into heav planking.
The mill was a source 0 wonder‘an slight to
Herbert, and it required buta short time for
him to learn the manner in which it should be
run. This enabled his father toassist the men
at their work, without sulfering‘the mill to 

idle. . ,
Steadin the habitation assumed the propor-
tions of a house; the natural clearing was
razed with the sickle, until it was shaved down .
tothe very ground; ,the ponderous framework
was ad lusted, and the massive planks secured,
until at last a goodly sized house stood upon
the banks of the river. It wasa bull ,
markable from the fact that it was not
logs, as were all other-sin this ucili
fragrant planks gleaned thrngh th

a

   

 

 

 

 

 

, mgr-V

 

 

 

 

.v\

l

I ' gleaming silver.

 
 

 

‘7.

I The Settlers :Son.

 

 

 

woods, and no doubt attracted more than one

. wondering gaze from the animals wandering
,throngh‘the forest. I

" It commanded an extensive view both up and
down the river, and was a source of unfailing
wonderment to the emigrants who floated by.
There could be little wonderment regarding It,
as the explanation of its presence in these parts
was at its side, in the she e of the savage saw-

,mill, crunching the huge OgS in Its Ina-W; With

a such a clamor and with such merciless accuracy.

All being ready, Mr. Bingham moved his
family and his worldly possessions into his new
house.

CHAPTER IV.
THE HUNT—SHOOTING A DEER—A NARROW ES-
CAPE—WOLVES.

HERBERT BINGIIAM was delighted with his
new house. The broad, beautiful Ohio, that
flowed so calmly by, and which glanced so
brightly at moonlight; the noisy plash of the
brook as it tumbled into the river; the vast
woods, stretching away until, in the for dis-
tance, they became misty and mingled with the

_ horizon; the towering trunks nearer at hand,
and the cool twilight of the forest itself; all
these had a charm for the boy. as they still have
for many an older head; and when not study-
mg, or reading, or when not needed to assist
his father, be frequently spent hours in rain—
bling aimlessly among the trees, or fishing in
the spring-like streams.

For several days Herbert waskept so steadily
employed, assisting his father, that he had lit-
tle leisure time on his hands; and, when it did
come, he devoted himself so assiduously to his
studies, under the impression that he had a
great deal of lost time to make up, that he be-
gan to grow pale, lost his appetite, and was
threatened with a turn of sickness. Observing
this, his parents consulted together and con-
cluded, as the best medicine that could be given
him, that he should be sent on a day’s ramble
into the woods.

g One evening, as they sat around the fire, Her—
bert was perplexed over and completely occu—
pied in a problem, at which he had been study—
ing for the last three days. The parents, for a
few moments, looked at the pale face and puz—
zled expression, and the father was about to
speak, when the boy’s eyes suddenl brightened,
and he sprung to his feet, his who e face aglow
with pleasure.

“ I’ve got it I I’ve got it!"

And he danced about the floor as if he were
fairly wild. He was not restrained in these

inmsy demonstrations until he had vented his
excitement, when he again sat down and picked
up his arithmetic.
fl “ §hut that book,” said the father, kindly but

Tm Y- ,.

The son looked at him in surprise.

“You have done enough for. today; in fact,
you have done enough for this week.”

“There’s another problem that I should like
to finish to—night.”

“ It won’t do,” said Mr. Bingham, shaking
his head. “ It is just as easy for a boy to study
1700 much as not enough. It is true that boys
ain’t very apt to do it, but I would much pre-
fer to see a boy neglect his studies than apply
himself too closely. You are getting pale and
weak, and must leave your books for a few
da 8. ’

5 What do you wish me to do?”

II have no work at which I particularly need
dSSIStance, hut to-morrow I wish you to go on a
hunt—t0 spend the entire day at it. ”

The boy looked asif he were in doubt whether
to be pleased or not.

“1 ShQUId like it Very much, but I have been
calculatmg 110‘” many problems I could find
before Saturday night, and if I lose to-morrow,
it will upset all my calculations.”

“1 am glad to hear it. Put your books
away, and spend the rest of the evenin in run-
ning bullets, and getting the gun in or er,”

Herbert did as he had been directed, and run
over fifty bullets, heaping them in a tiny
mound, where the looked ike as many balls of

he powder-flask was filledI

the vent hole carefully cleaned out, and the
barrel swathed and the flint picked, so that

there, might be no imnecessary delay in the
miriinng’ ' ' ed th to

959 Preceedin occu i e 8'93 i“ Part

of the evening, angiswhenpcompleted, the even-

ing devotions Were attended to, after which 31]

retired to rest. -
The he ’5 sleep was broken by dreams, an
fife uent y be awoke with a burning forehead,
an a dull, uncomfortable feeling, which he

‘ fiknew too well had been caused by excessive

 

 

applicationto his studies. He understbod the
object of his parents in giving him a holiday
for hunting, and was fully sensible of the need
he had for some strong exciting physical exer-
cise, for be remembered how sweet and dream-
less his sleep had been, before he had become so
intensely absorbed in his arithmetic; and he
did not doubt that if left to himself, he would
have gone on until his health was completely
,gone. Few indeed are the youngsters who ap-
preciate the wisdom of their parents.

The next morning dawned bright and beauti-
ful, and Herbert was quite elated at the pro-
spect of his hunt. He however felt quite lan-
guid, and had little appetite.

“I don‘t think I shall need much dinner,” he
said to his mother, as she was preparing his
lunch.

“ Perhaps I will came home at dinner time.”

“ You mustn’t do any such thing. Your fa-
ther left instructions for you not to make your
appearance before dusk; and he says he will be
better pleased, if you take a notion to camp out
and come back to-morrow afternoon.”

“ If he is so anxious for me to do so, perhaps
I shall.”

And bidding his mother good—by, ho flung his
rifle over his shoulder, and walking rapidly
across the clearing, plunged into the woods.

The boy had walked but a short time, when
he began to experience the natural effect of the
bracing air, and his brisk exercise. His spirits
rose, and he soon found himself singing snatches
of songs, whistling, and Occasionally his ovar—
flow of spirits vented itself in a loud shout,
while he paused and listened to the echoes ring-
ing among the forest arches.

Squirrels bounded from limb to limb, and
both black and gray whisked before him, dart—
ing up saplings, or chirping from the topmost
branches, as if defying his prowess and skill;
and occasionally be caught sight of some rab—
bit in some small cluster of bushes, his head and
ears erect, with his round shining eyes fixed
upon him, and his jaws rapidly munching his
cud: then as he came nearer, he skurried away,
rattling and tearing through the dried leaves,
as if he had been propelled from the mouth of a
cannon; but such game was in no danger from
our hero and he never once drew sight upon
them. I-Ie was in search of nobler game.

When the sun was near the meridian, Her-
bert . became sensible of a ravening hunger,
and sat down beneath a large beech to eat his
dinner. His mother had prepared a goodly
quantity of food, but he ate every morsel, and
“ wished for more.”

“ If my appetite increases at this rate, I
shall have to have help to satisfy it,” muttered
the boy, as after a good long rest he again
shouldered his rifle and started off in the woods.
He had left the river hours before and was
wandering aimlessly forward some hours later,
in that manner peculiar to boyhood, when the
rippling of water ca ht his ear, and he soon
came upon abrook w ich dashed and foamed
down a steep declivity, and then hurried noise-
lessly down into a narrow valley. He took a
long refreshing draught from its cold waters,
and then arose and took a survey of the pleas-
ant ocean.

Around him were sugar maple, hickory, beech,
poplar buckeye, pawpaw, as , sycamore, horn-

eam and numerous other trees, While clusters
of the richest grapes drooped from the branches,
where bushels of them must perish without one
brushing the blue from their pulpy richness.

Casting his eye down the valley, he was some—
what startled and considerably pleased at de
scrying a noble-looking buck drinking from the
brook. The noise of the rippling waters had
prevented the animal from hearing the ap-
proach 0; his enemy, or he would have been off
like an a row.

The younghunter could not have had a bet-
ter opportunity, 'and carefully sighting his gun,
so as to strike Just behind the fore-leg, where
the heart could be reached, he pulled the trig-
ger. 'The mortally wounded animal made a

renmed leap directly upward, whirled around,
ran a few paces, and then striking squarely
against a tree, dropped down uivering, and by
the time the boy reached himqhe was ead.

Herbert was naturally elated with his success,
especially as he funnel the animal in prime con-
dition. Feeling very hungry, he concluded
that the best means of procuring supper was at
hand, and he‘lmmediately began dressing it.

“ I’ll camp in the woods to-night,” be reflected,
as he busied himself in cutting it up. “Here
is water, and the place is sheltered from any
wind that may come. up in the night, while I
can build in fire against this fallen tree and
make a com rtable night of it, and Ithinkby

\

 

 

the time I go home, father and mother will be
willing to let me have another pull at my
arithmetic.” ‘ ‘ "

Probably the oungster would not have
thought of doing is, but for the hint he had
received from his mother before starting, but
be was fully resolved that they should not see
him for twenty-four hours, and should the
weather remain pleasant he had serious thoughts
of spending several‘days in the woods.

Herbert had learned enough of hunting to
understand how a deer should be cut up, and it.
did not take him long to extract the choicest '
portions from the game. When this was done,
the next proceeding was to build a fire. There
was any quantity of fuel, but he had left his
flint and tinder at home. He managed, how-
ever, to set fire to some of the crisp leaves by
flashing the powder in the pan of his rifle, and
these he uietly blew into a blaze, and in a few
mOmEIItSand a roaring mass of decayed wood,
tWigs and branches. Two large green stakes
were made to unite above the blaze, and to
them be fastened a goodly—sized piece of meat,
which with careful nursing was done to a nice
juicy brown. ' '

Around him were any number of hickor and V
chestnuts. The ground was strewn Wit. the
former, while the large burrs were gaping open
there having been several nipping frosts; an
as the velvety linings curled outward, the trio
of plump brown chestnuts could be seen within,
pendent from every portion of the tree. The
slightest jar and they came rattling down like
a storm of hailstones, strewing the ground with
shining brown.

Herbert gathered a quart or two of these v
which were cooked upon the blazing cools, the
crackling and burstin with the rapidly swel -
ing richness within. he venison was tender,
juicy and nourishing, after which the nuts
came in by way of dessert, so it looked as if our
young friend was doing as well as could be one.
pected upon this his first day’s hunt.

Herbert had not failed to provide himself
with a blanket, which, although rather incon-
Venient, to carry at times,,he knew would be
needed when he came to lie down at night.
Then too fearful that he might not be ableto
sleep until morning, he provided himself with
fuel to keep his fire going through the night;
for the wakeful hunter finds such an accompani-
ment an agreeable way of whiling away'the
lonely hours of darkness. ‘ _

When he had com leted all his arrangements,
twilight had alrea y come; and as the gloom
settled around him he could not avoid the
wish, that after all, he had made his way home ,
and was lying beneath the roof where the_sigh-' '
ing of the night-wind would lull him tosleep;
and he believed, too, that his parents were
longing for him, as they gathered around the
evening meal, but he understood the reason that;
they had advised him to fake a ni lit in the
woods, in order‘to give him a 00 rest from
his books, enforced rest which e would not
feel if his mind were diverted in this manner.
Still further he re arded it as , a sort of appeal
to his manhood, w ich’ his 11 tural pride would
not allow him to decline. here was little “if
any personal danger incurred, as there was
nothing to fear from Indians, and as to wild
animals, he had plenty of powder and ball, and
what more could he ask?

He sat for a long time, gazing dreamin into
the fire, conjuring up all sorts of‘images and _
pictures among the embers, running over home
of the problems which had so perplexed him‘
and which he had succeeded in mastering,ja
longing for the arithmetic, that he might attack -
and overcome new difficulties. Final] , asthe V
night regressed, he committed himse f to the ’
great eing, who alone could see him, and
wra ping his blanket around him, “lay down
to easant dreams.” Lulled by the murmur of
the brook, his tired frame soon sunk into a
sweet, refreshing slumber. _ . ,

Herbert slept soundly until far into the n' ht,
when he was awakened in rather a stinging
manner. A furious growl close by his face in-
stantly drove aways drowsiness, and owning. ,
his eyes, he saw by the dim light of the spiel -
ering camp-fire two large animals snarling over ;
the remains of- his deer. With a shiver of ter-v
ror he sprung up, threw wood upon the fire,
an caught his gun. , ~

As the flame flared up, the two wolves m w
treated into the darkness, while the boy, With, a
thankful heart that he had not been torn to
pieces while asleep, placed himself on Watch,
with the resolve not to fall aslee a '13, while.
these-ravoning brutes Were aroun him. _ 7, ‘ ,

Nothing of the deer remained but a few. 31%.

desirm

toning bones, and the wolves seemed»

' I

 

 

 
  

 

  

oil-serving the young hunter in the same man-
 As the;shortest method of disposing of
, ~tllern,’Herbert carefully sighted his gun, by the
light of the fire, and sent a bullet between the
- e es of the largest wolf, which doubled him u
 ll e a jackLknife, with a short yelp. He has
' scarcely fallen, when his comrade sprung upon
'. and be an rending and eating him. He was
' given llttle time to enjoy his unnatural feast,
- when a. second bullet stretched him lifeless by
' the side of the other carcass. ‘
h ‘ Herbert now hea 4 d wood 11 on the fire; and,
' ' as the flames more and crac (led, and he care-
fully reloaded his piece, he experienced a sense
of security. very comforting under the circum-
stances. He saw that he had enough fuel to
,keep a. fire until daylight, and as long as this
was done, he had nothing to fear from any of
', the wild animals that roamed the woods.
Scarce half an hour had elapsed when be de—
nted shadowy forms prowling along the edge
or the brook, as if seeking to come upon him
firmwares. He gave them a. shot or tWo, but
,took special pains to see that his fire did not
smolder, as he was well aware that this was
his safeguard. - - ,
. I In the course of the next hour be counted
‘ . Over twenty of these lank animals, which al-
fways seen; cadaverous and hungry; but they
" caused him little uneasiness, as none of their
specioshnve been known to raise enough, cour-
flage to walk through fire.

. ., ' CHAPTER V. .
um RUINS~THE B . ..,—A CRUEL I’ROCEEDING
-FIGHT BETWEEN THE BEAR AND PANTHER—
rm: YOUNG PIONEER AND PANTHER—LOST
'~IN THE WOODS—A FRIEND IN NEED—HOME
"AGAIN.
., ,. WHEN‘the first faint gray streaks of morning
he an stealing through the woods, the rowling
w ves shrunk away, and Herbert inghem
saw that he was alone, with no eye upo‘n him
rexcept the one which never slumbered’or
slept. First returning devout thanks to heaven
fer preserving him through the night in such a.
remarkable manner, he took a morning bath in
the, cool clear brook, and thou slung his rifle
ver his shoulder, and started in quest of some-
ng for breakfast.
As the readiest means at hand, he shot several
. the plumpest looking squirrels, which be car-
ried back to camp, and specdil dressed and
baked. With his sharp appetite, they made
himanourisliing breakfast. By the time he
was ready tojresume his hunt, the sun was up,
and'anot er beautiful day was upon him.
[Herbert found that his blanket had effectu-
ally protected him from the evening dews and
dam , and he experienced no ill-e' sets from
 st night‘out of doors, although he expe-
rience an occasional drowsiness from his de-
iprivation of sleep. '
\“I think I shall’spcn'l the next night at
home,” was the reflco ion of the ho , as lie
#81de through the forest on the loo 'out for
something worthy of his rill ~. iWithout any
choral object,,he'followed the course of tho
grdok, which sometimes flushed over rocks and
stones, and then flowed still and deep- but
everywhere so clear, that it resembled liquid
,‘the sli latest ‘speck being visible upon the
tintervals he paused a d watched
itfie flsb gliding so quietly and swift y beneath
the surface, t eir scales occasionally flashing
like 1}. my of sunlight darting through the cur-

 
   
 

  

     
  
    
   
  
 
    
 
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
    
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
 
  
   
  
 
  

 

   
  
  
 
    
  
 
 
 
         
   
 
   
 
      
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
 

out. .
“A mile or two in this manner brought him to
smell clearin , which it could be instantly
“seen, badbeeu‘t esite of some building a few
ears before. The heavy logs were Scattered
her and thither, blackened and charred, large
 were tumbled around, while a. well was
fed‘with dirt and debris,vund a chilling air of
isolation rested upon the entire scene.
A short distance away was a. large mound of
b, which resembled nothing so much as a.
go grove. Everything was silent, but the
il‘ance told an eloquent tale of the attack, the
fipulse, the siege, the burning building, the
hand-Whend struggle, thh final defeat and
more, and the return, perhaps months after-
word of a few of the surv1vors and the gathering
d‘ burial of the mutilated bodies.
Herbert Bingham stpod a long time gazing
upon these robot with a. feelin of .sclemnity
md'eadness, much atyarianoe w th his emotions
f be first came upon the ruins. The re-
jection that it was so recent since these things
Woocnrred; that 'but,a few ears only had
passed. since a building stood here, with so
rainy hearts beefing high with hope, and that
whith was allleft to rein mber, them .by,

   

   
 
  
  

   
 

 

 
 

    

  
 

    
  

    

 

 

'0” can malwou .
terlforrhim to leap the creek, and Herbert was

son's the I in Herbert taught hifneelfvlook-

ing‘iurt’ive y around to see that no red-man was
stealing .upon him unnwares.

It was this natural apprehension which, per-
haps more than anything, caused him to go as
for away aspossib e from the spot and to en—
gage more zealously than ever in the hunt.
"he occasional cry of a. wild animal told him
that he might eerct their appearance at any
moment, and he eld himself constantly ready
for any danger.

It was near noon when he reached u broad,
smooth creek, which flowed quietly through a
valley-like depression in the woous. He had
just seated himself upon a fallen tree to rest
himself, when he heard a singular purring,
barking noise, and the next moment detected
two young panther cubs frolicking and tum.
bling upon the Very edge of the creek. They
resembled a couple of huge kittens, full to over-
flowing with sport and animal life, not still for
a moment.

While Herbert was watching them, he '(leo
tected a bear advancing silently down the hill
with his eyes fixed keenly upon them. Not
suspecting any evil design, the boy let his rifle
lie on hislap while with no little interest he
watched their movements. The cubs paid no
attention to the bear, while be advanced steadily
forward, until he was directly upon them,
when with one sweep of his paw be iorc‘ one of
the cubs almost to shreds, laying it (in llda dozen
feet from him, partly on the land and partly in
the water; Ere the other could comprehend
the danger, it was served in almost the same
manner, while the ruthless perpetrator of the
cruelt looked savagely around as if in nest of
:olmet ing more upon which to exeicise is bru-
a itv. .

“That was unworthy of the Wolf ” remarked
Herbert, fairly sure ed at what he had wit-
nessed “ and you she I never do it again.”

Wit which he raised his gun and sighted for
the head of the bear, but the next moment
lowered it with h thrill of sur rise.

The hear was not to die y his hand: for
glancing across the creek, he saw rapidly gal-
loping down the hill the mother of the cubs,
her whole body uflume with {u at the sight of
the destroyer of her young. he rustling of
the leaves caught the ear of the bear and glanc—
ing upward he gave a whine of terror, and
would have turned to flee; but he stood at bay
and awaited the onset.

f‘Now the. fur will fly i” thought Herbert, as
he hastily finished reloading his gun and with
sparkling eye watched the coming battle.

He had not long to wait. When a: mother
panther sees her young mangled to death be
fore her eyes, she is not apt 'to wait long in the
way of parrying or fainting. On came the in—
furiated animal straight to the bear, who stood
with gleaming jaws sullenly awaiting the
shock.

The next minute, they came in collision, with

a momentum as if both were under full speed,,

and tbe'lightning-like movements of the pan
ther’s claws, the snapping and snarling and
growling the biting, t e hugging of the bear,
who quickly learned that he was hugging death
to his Vitals, the leaves that were scattered as if
by a. whirlwind~all these betokened the desper-
ate character of the fight, and showed that it
could last but a brief time.

Herbert had risen to his feet with his rifle in
his hand, and forgetful of his own danger,
stood looking at the contestants, as they en-
gaged in their (loudly struggle.

‘Such‘ a. contest from its very nature, could
not last long. The bear, although possessing
prodigious strength, was too sluggish in his
movements effectually to contest with the cat—
liko fiercenoss of the panther, and a few min—
utes only had elapsed, when the monster, rip-
ped, bleeding and in.liis last throes, rolled into
the creek, and still faintly strugglin , rose and
sunk, dye1n_ the Waters with his crimson life~
current, un il in afew Seconds he was dead.

The anther, as if conscious that his work

was fln shed, stood on the bank, glaring at the .

dead body which was floating away from him,
while Herbert, at the termination of the con-
test. exclaimed aloud: A

“ You deserve praise for the manner in which
you vanquished your enemy, and you can go
without any disturbance from me.”

This was magnanimous upon the part of _the
boy, but the
it. When he youn star looked across the
creek, he saw t at the ‘rute had fixed his ter-
rible eyes u him, and looked as if .he was
pro arm to spring. The extraordinary agility

d have made it an easy mat-

l/q‘

' he had done all that was

panther did not seem to npprec1ate_

 

 

Well swore that  inforvening Water wa ;
the slightest obstacle in his wn . " 

Matters had assumed anew ace, and placing. ,

his rifle at his shoulder, the boy held it ready
for the first hostile demonstration of his enemy;

I The brute evidently looked upon him in the.
,same light as he did the bear,.and was not
‘ prepared in any way to reciprocate the‘ feelings

he had awakened in the youngster, while the
latter, understanding that a collision was in—
evitable, with as steady a nerVe as he could
summon, was only waiting until he could make
sure of his aim. He had one bullet at his dis—
posal, and if that went aslray, there was no
plroltilability of his escaping a sudden and fearful
811 l.

The panther had crouched upon his belly, his .

claws pricking the earth in that restless way

  
 

   

 

          
   
   
      
 
    
   
   

seen when a cat is about to spring, his tail slowi . V

ly waving from side to side, his ears lying flat,
his lips drawn back so as to display those car-
nivorous, spear-like teeth, his ton he and gums
of the redness of blood, while his right beauti-
ful eyes were fixed upon the boy with steady
fierceness, which seemed to emit a phosphores-
cent fire, and which he more than once dreaded
would magnetize him by their subtle power.

A low growl issued from the panther, and the
next moment with a sudden lightning—like con-
traction of his muscles, he ascended m thenir,
as if ently propelled by some irresistible
power, is limbs and body remaining as motion-
less as if he were lying upon the ground. ' The
rifle of the boy followed the brute, as it describ—
ed its beautiful parabola as the gun of the‘
sportsman frequent] follows the bird on instant
before firing, and w en directly over the center
of the creek, he pulled trigger.

A sort of shrieking growl was heard at the.
some second, as the momentum of the animal,.
carried it forward, while Herbert, feeling" that
' ossible, did not'hesj—
tate to turn on hi heel and) run for life. A fer-
rific growling an rustling of the leaves, made
him believe that the panther was pursuing, and
was about to leap upon him; but if so, the leap
was delayed, and when he had run several hun-
dred yards, and glanced over his shoulder, no-
thing was to be seen of the dreaded'animol.
After awhile, he ventured to steal cautiously,
back, when he found it lying dead on the edge
of the stream, where it had first struck when it
lea ed from the other side.

y thisti’me, Herbert Bin ham was convinced
that he had enjoyed quite a nut, and one Which
would justify himin returning home; but 'he
was resolved not to show himself to his parents
until nightfall. ‘He saw by the position of the
sun that it was past noon, and, if he had not'

oss‘essed this infallible guide, he had an equally
infallible one in the ravenous hunger, which do:
manded speedy satisfaction. 3 v

In such a bountiful store-house of game, as a
western forest, there was no occasion for a bun-
ter undergoing the sensation of hunger for any
extended period, and the boy “ barked ” a couple
of squirrels which were frolicking in a lar 9
red ash.
directly beneath the squirrel in such a manual-5,
that the concussion kills him without breaking»
the skin. It is an exploit of which a veteran
hunter is proud, and it had re ired no little
practice upon the part of our ero, before he
was able to perform it. The squirrels were

spitted‘over a fire kindled in the same manner «
as the others, and it required hutacomparative- '
1y brief time to prepare himself a meal which ',

no epicure could have envied.

The afternoon was quite well advanced, when i .

Herbert concluded he would start homewnrd, ‘
Snuntering slowly along, so as not to reach there .
too soon, and late enough to make his parents;

'ruther anxious to See him. With this conclu-‘ -
sion came the alarming discovery that he did; .

not know. which way to turn to reach home—-
that in his many turnings and ramblin s, be
had lost his reckoning, and had no more i ea of

the direction he should take in order to reach , > H *

home than 'f be had been blind. ‘

His hear sunk at this, but it w uld not do it

be discouraged, and he endeavors with all‘ the '

coolness ossible to decide upon the proper ,
course. lge noted the situation of the sun—re-
membered in what direction it rose when viewed
from his door at home, and where he had seen
it go down so often behind th woods. The re—

sult of this 'computation was t at it located his ‘

house in almost. preciselythe ho posite pOint‘ of "
the compass from the one whic be imagined. .

In fact, to use‘a common expression, hows: ‘, Iv

“ turned around.”

It was a hard matter, to move' in a direction ' A) .1 A
be right} ' v

contrary to the. one'which he felt to
but the boy had sense enough, to comprehen

i

A

The feet is done by striking the bar , . j

l

l,’

I“

    
    
      
   
     
  
     
 

 

 

  
  

 

 

 

 

    
   
   

 

  

 
  

' that there was nothing more easy than to be
mistaken, and so he concluded to go b the sun.
In‘ this he did right, although such mg the
case, it was by no means certain that he would
come o'ut of the woods within ahalf dozen miles
of the clearing where stood the saw—mill.

There was no occasion now for loitering by the
'way, and having located his house, he started
offpn a brisk walk toward it, only home that
hewould be able to get there by nightfa ]. It

, seemed to him that time never passed so rapidly;
mile after mile was trumped through the same

; everlasting woods, the dead leaves rustling be—

neath his feet, the wind Sig‘uing through the

i tree-tops, the squirrels frolicking everywhere,

l , the call of the Wild animals sometimes soundin
‘ "' ' near and sometimes far in the distance, and

still he saw no sight or landmarks which he

, ' i could recognize. ’ -

,“ It was with a Sinking heart that he saw the

~ V . night settling over the wood, with the feeling

'  that he was lost. To spend his previous night

' was, rather a pleasure than otherwise, but it was
far different now.

. “ lf 1 must camp out again, there is no help-

] , mg it,” was his reflection, as he halted beside a

l » large treatrunk to make his preparations; but
he was not willing to give up yet, and he began
walking forward a sin. This he continued un-
til, in the thick dar uess, he found himself run-
ning against the limbs and trees, when he con-

,cluded it time to halt.

As the night was quite warm, he preferred

\ ascending a tree to building a fire; and, select-

. ing a large one, with gnarled limbs and spread-

} . ‘ mg branches, he climbed some twenty odd feet

from the ground, and established himself as
safely as possible. After composing himself to
sleep,_he found that the disappointment of not
reaching home, and the anxiety as to what he
would be able to accomplish on the morrow,
had driven away both his appetite and all
drowsiness. As the best that could be done un-

, der the circumstances, he set himself to shout-
\ ing with all his might, and then listening for a

‘ reponse. His voice echoed dismally through
‘ the woods, but no answer came back.
\ Again and again he called, until, weary and

‘, despairing, he ceased, when at this instant, from

directl beneath the tree, came the words:

“ He lo! up there! What’s the matter?”
’ ,‘ i The voice was gruff, and the words so unex—
ected that Herbert was almost startled from
'5 seat. l-le peered down among the limbs, but
the’ darkness was too great to see anything; but,
believing that it could be no enemy, he made

the somewhat trembling response:

, “lam lost,,and do not know which way to

turn to get home.”

. “ hat is your name?”

" erbert Bingham.”

“ Do you live near the. saw-mill?”

“ Yes, sir; my father owns the mill.”

- “.You are a bright youngster, I must say"

lostiwithlnahaltmile of your own house!
would advise your,father to put you in a band-
b‘ox, for fear you might stray off and never be
found again. Come down here, hub, and I’ll
take you home.” ,

* Herbert descended, and learned that his
friend wasa hunter, who had heard him calling
and who had not made any reply until assured

. as to whether there was any danger in doing so.

-. , . 'When the boy had narrated his adventures, the

“ -‘ inlan’s surprise ceased that he should haye lost
‘ ms Way, and he complimented him quite lib-

orally upon the bravery he had shown, .

. alt-hour later, Herbert Bingham and his
friend entered the door of his home, where, as
, . may be SUPPOSBd. his parents were glad enough
a. ' to see them. They listened to the recital of
their son’s experience, when they returned
thanks for the kindness of Providence, and 31]
retired to rest.

  

_.

 

 

‘ ‘ , CHAPTER v1.

'. ‘n ,, .srunms—mman VISITORS—THE YOUNG M“,
v 7 - ‘ . Liam—n BEAR IN A saw-mu“

. ‘Unnna the uidnnce of his mother Herbert

I I _ r‘ ' Bingbam prog‘i‘gssed rapidly in his studies. Any

é’ ‘ boy with the will to 0 forward cannot be kept

‘  ' back _by- difiiculty; he may be retarded, and

' ”‘ sometimes driven almost to the verge of dis.

" ’ ~ couragetnent, but he will still advance until all

» 0¥P051t3101T is overcome. Teachers are but one

' ‘0 the means by which the pupils are helped

‘forward, and many or the first scholars of the

' y mi 1139 are those who never saw the lane
riot of a school—house

 

 

 
 
  
   

 

 

\

‘if it should be needed. ,

 

 It needed but a word here and there—alittle

 

explanation—a. single suggestion, or the sim le
“yes” or ‘_‘ no” to some inquiry, to has t e
boy goin . His mind was active, and wit the
occasion assistance of a pilot, it could not fail
to find its“ goal. Herbert spent the greater part
of the day in stud , only taking care not to be-
come so abstracte as to forget his duty in the
saw-milk A, single minute of for etfulness
might shatter the saw to pieces, and . . Bing-
ham had warnedihis son that if any such thing
happened, every book should be instantly taken
from him. '

This penalty was too fearful for Herbert to
incur, and no matter how deeply absorbed in
his work, he did not fail to take note of every
inch which the saw advanced into the log, and
so Ion as he was thus faithful in the attendance
of his uty, no objections could be made to his
application to his studies. ,

Occasionally, however, his mother took his
books from him, when,‘ after having pored over
them all day, he still endeavored to study them
by the light of the fire on the hearth, or by the
pine knot blazing overhead' and, when the
father thought his cheek was becoming pale, he
gave him a run through the woods with his

1m.
g Mr. Bingham marked off a tract of land
which he intended to claim as his own, and then
he set to work with all his strength to clear it.
The demands upon the mill being such as to
keep it continually going, he turned it oyer to
the care of Herbert, only visiting him at inter-
vals, to assure himselg that he was not checked
by any task beyond his strength.

Mr. Bingham then succeeded in securing the
services of a man to help him, and, from morn
till night, the ring of their axes could be heard.
It was too late in the season to put any crops in
tlie ound, and so everything was directed to-
war getting ready for the next spring£0

The sleep of labor is sweet, and th Mr.
Binghum and his wife felt that they7 had now
experienced the pure enjoyment of t as toiling
to make for themselves a new home. Quiet,
dreamless slumber was their blessing, and keen
appetite rugged health and the inevitable ac-
companiment, cheerful spirits, followed them
throu h the day. .

Her art was not less hagpy. IHisbooks were
a. source of never-failing slight, and he had a
motherwho was capable of directing him in his
studies. The only trouble was that sometimes
she wouldn’t let him read and study as much as
he wished, but his conscience and common sense
told him she was right about this, as she was
about everything else; and then it gave him so
much keener zest when he took up his studies
again, that he could not regret the deprivation
he had undergone.

Thus matters progressed until summer had
passed and autumn had begun. Herbert was
at workcontinually in the mill, while his father
and the hired man, John, worked as unceasing-
ly in clearing the land. Everything was pro-
gressing favorably—nothing in their prospects
could have been im roved. _

One day Herbert ad just started the saw into
the log, when shadows were thrown Over the
trunk at which he was looking; and, raising his
head he was not a little startled to observe three
Indians standing before him. His first impulse
was to call to his father for help, but, as he saw
nothing very threatening in the appearance of
his visrtors, he restrained himself, and gave
them a. friendly nod. ,

.At the same time he looked fui‘tively across
the clearing for his father. The sound of his
ax and of the hired man’s could be heard, and
he knew precisely Where they were; but they
were beyond sight, and if the Indians really
intended harm, they had nothing to fear from
the settlers. The ouse was several hundred
yards away, and be greatly preferred that his
mother should know nothing of what Was going
on at the mill, as she could afford no assistance,

 
 
 

 

     

The Indians stood surveying the saw with no
attempt to conceal their amazement. They had
never seen 9115' thing like it, and seemed totally
unable, for the films, to comprehend its mean-
ing. Deeming it best' to treat them as friends,
Herbert walked around to where they stood,
and oflered them his hand in friendly greeting.
It was takenrather reluctantly, and. one of
them uttered an exclamation, and painted to
the saw. , .' ,

By this time it Was near the end of . the log, ,1
and he motioned to them to take a_ seat upon
the “carriage.” one-of them compliedrrather
gingerly, whereupon the boy reverseditheho-
tion; but, as it b: an sliding; back, the Indian,"

        
 

    

   
  
   
 

   
  

 
  

  

With aha]! shrlé of terror, sprain i ' », m _
,, though» enemas/time  g

r

 

 



: Herbertnow shut off the water enthely,‘ "
and when saw, with its sharp , '_
teeth stood still, his visitors ven‘ the
approach and examine itmorecriticall . My. ,
p aced their fin ers upon the iron, an seemed ,
to admire its geaming smoothness, and thenj
they felt of the teeth. ‘ .

“00gb! much bite!” ‘said one/of them/in.
broken English. ' -

“ Yes,” replied Herbert.

They then peered down into the lower part a,
and the sight of the large band wrapped around - Q.
the huge wheel, and running to the smaller one,
was a source of still tor surprise to them. .
They passed to and r0 likeso ‘many children a ‘
out on a holiday, and asked all sorts of ques- 4.
tions; but as they were propounded in panto-
mime, and not in the least understood, it mu
be supposed that they received very satisfactory"
or lucid answers. . . '- _ _‘ ,

Having adjusted everything, Herbert mo? '7
tioned to the most inquisitive visitor to place «w
his hand upon a certain handle and. pull. , The
latter did so rather timidly, when, law
there was a great rush of water, and the “
fled savage gazed about him as though he had
sealed his own doom beyond all escape. 3

Herbert soon became on good terms withhis, ‘
visitors. He showed them every part of the ’ ,
wonderful saw-mill with as much pride and *
pleasure asa good farmer displays his expectant
crops to the speculator. What their intentions ’
were when they approached himmwhetherio ’
gratify a simple curiosit , or whether V the
intended evil—can never 9 lm , _‘
tain it is, that they departed without the 
indication of violence, and with every evidmsoo
of good will. '

The boy drew a long breath when they finally
disappeared in the woods, and he felt that
buoyanc of spirits which comes over one when
he has, one a. good deed and gained a good
victory. He was satisfied that the Indians had
left him with friendly feelings, a diflerent State
of the emotions, he ever believed. than was
those with which they came to hincn‘ » l  . “

The Indians did not go near the homeland it
was rather singular that neither Mr. Bing
nor his servant received any intimation of th
visit until it came from the boy himself. The:
father commended the action of his son, 
took particular care in looking his house W
evening, but for some time saw nothing math
of any aborigines.  ' '

So great was the demand upon the'SIw-mill;
that it was he t running from earliest mom
until dark, an frequent y far into the night;
but there was a gloominess when “swam
in remaining about the building, which made
this the exception rather than the rule. ' 7"th
Herbert freqluently carried his dinner to ,,
mill in a sum 1 basket, so that there was no iii-v
termption on account of his noonday’mealr *

On one of these occasions his mother'le
in his basket the choicest artof afattm'ke ,.
which his father had shot t 9 day beforelis‘tha
woods, and in order that he might fullye‘h _
it, Herbert concluded to wait until past‘noo
so as to be sure of a good appetite. _ ' ;

Meridian came and passed, and the boy W
up an arithmetic and soon became deeplyin-
terested in it, until sensible of a cravingahd;
increasing hunger, when he laid itaside" ml
took down his basket from , its perch. , He t on
waited until just after thesaw commenced the
log, when be seated himself aboutniidway
it and attacked his dinner. ‘ ~ ' ' H
He carefully drew up the breast of theturke
and was admiringly contemplating“ it. when
heard a singular jarring noise behind, hin‘anli
turning his head, saw an enormous blabkrbbin'
tumbling awkwardly toward him. There 
mischief in his eye, and easing only long
enoughto identify him, the 0y sprungmofli'the
log, and in a twinkling had scram ed
among the framework above. ' ,
The beat came alongve leisurely, an
and looking around him, amost‘with asrm' ‘
curiosity as did the Indians upon their visit.
was not long in scouting theduscious

which had been left lying upon the log;
tbe'open basket; and step in upon rm,
sat on his haunches, with is aok to j A ,
saw and commenced leisurely devouringjhn,
contents of the dinner basket. ‘ -
Herbert Bingham watched him withfca
emotions. He was not forgetful of the feet that;
he was not perched six feet above the head
the bear, and when the latter had finished it};
feast he would 3’ turn and use
b wayofidecsem. The boy hadnoready .
defense, and hebegan tobeoeriemly :

150 hi owhsa ,
 

      

 

         
   

   
  

  
   
      
     
      
     
   
    
    
     
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
  
 
    
   
     

 

   

     
    
 
  
 
 
 

    
   

 

  
  
   
   
 

  

     

   
    
    
   
   
   
  
  
 
    
    
  
     
   
  
   
  
   
    
   
    

 

  
  
      
 
     
  
 

  
   
   
    

 
   
      
 
 

  

  
         
  
 
  
 
   
 
   
   
  

   

 
 
  
 

  
 
 
    
  

   
 
 
   
 
  
 

       
 

 
 
   
    
 
   
 
 

  

 

    

  

L

“ The Settlers son; ’

 

 

   
      
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
 
  
 
     
 
  
  
 
   
  
   
   
  
  
 
   
   
 
   

voice- but he remembered that, having de-

ferred his dinner beyond the usual time, both
' his father and hired man were beyond hearing.

’As it was, he was barely able to make his voice

rise above the clash and clangor of the mill:

and he had some fear, too, that it w0uld excite
_ the animal, and causo him to turn his attention

to him.
A new fear now took possession of the boy.

,In a few moments, at the furthest, the saw
must reach the end of the log, and then what
would become of it? With no one to reverse
the motion, it must cut straight ahead until it
was shattered and ruined against the clamps of
iron with which be secured the logs in their
places.

This thought troubled Herbert Bingham more
than anything else. He knew that his father
had another saw, but each was too valuable for
him to lose, except by the use to which it was
put; and he could not bear the thought that
this was doomed to be ruined.

s & But what could he do? It wasn’t probable
that the brute would retire, that he might de-
scend and save the property from ruin, and he

i ,had no means at hand to compel him to do so.
With a. sinking heart he drew himself up, and
- ipainfully watched the progress of events.
Oh, how he longed for his gun, which be had
occasionally brought to the mill with him. How

’ quickly he would terminate this distressing con-

dition of affairs! What an easy matter it would
be for him to top le over the brute, as he sat in
allhis ungainly ugeness upon the log, so de~
- * ‘ liberately devouring his dinner.

' Suddenly the question presented itself to Her-
bert-«could he not stealthin descend, and as
stealthin shut ofl’ the flow of water, and clam-
ber back to his perch before the brute could be-
. come aware of what he was doing? Thus far

' the animal treated him with the utmost indif—
ference, not even glancing upward to assure
himself as to his exact locality. If he could

1,; only extend this indifference a little further,
t , » the boy was confident the thing could be done.
1 The youngster was on the point of descend~

   
    
  
     
     
  
   
   
   
   
  
  
  
   

,‘ , us, when he hesitated, and a smile spread over
’ his face. The bear, having eaten the better
1: of the dinner, was now snuffingand claw-
mat Daboll’s arithmetic (that venerable and,
fortunately for, us, completely decayed treatise
,, on numbers), as though disposed to investigate
’ its contents. ,
1 “ If you can digest those two or three exam—
geles I have been studying over,” muttered Hera
' rtto himself, “you will do more than any
bear that I ever heard of."
After he had gotten the book exactly in front
of him, bruin clawedat it until it opened, and'
hen, little dreaming of the pangs he inflicted
, one. certain young gentleman a few feet over
his head, he clawed a couple of leaves from it.
’~ They stuck to his paws a moment, and, in con-
,siderable terror, the brute shook them off.
, "‘ y graciousl don’t tear the leaves out of
’ the back part1" called Herbert, in his frantic
‘_10rgetfulness, terrified at the thought that he
eras lapoitbe point of losing one of his most val-

   
 
     
      
    
 
  
 
      
  
 
 
    
    
    
   
   
   
  

   
 

rs.
rFortunately, at this juncture, the in'ured
bookmith the mangled leaves, dropped 0 the
log, and the brute bestowed no further notice
upon it.

Again the question came back to our young
here: could he not steal down, cautiously shut
off the water, and then get back to his perch
before his enemy suspected what he was doing?
’ "Bevel-M times, indeed, he more than half be-
towed that he was not aware he was in the mill,

 
 
 

     
 
   

      
 
   
 

 

     
 
  
  
  
  
 
 

' aiding.
The attempt which Herbert Bingham was
meditating was so dangerous that he d'éter-
mined upon another effort, as offering lees peril
’iw o himself. He could descend until directly
overthe lever connected with the water-whee
when he could reach down with his foot and
shut/down the gate.
‘ As time was becoming precious, he acted
upon the conclusion without further delay. ‘ As
the bear sat, his side was turned toward the
handle which Herbert was so anxious to reach,
landthe chances seemed equally divided as to
, whether he would be discovered at the attempt
or not. , At present he was absorbed in, or more
‘ rly, was absorbing into’his massive aws
’ , her piece of the tender turkey, so care ully
cooked by the affectionate mother at home.
Herbert crept carefull along the framework
amid). he had reached is e profiler spot, all the
time . lancin at the brute, w ich as yet was
entire ind‘ erect as to what Was going on

 
 
   
   
  
   
 
       
      
   
      
  
  

 

  
  

= mun - him. The clangor created by the saw,

  

the circumstances, he shouted at the top of his '

and ng from his actions since entering the

was an advantage, in that it drowned whatever
noise might accidentally be made in his move~
merits. ‘

The boy once more looked sharply at the
bear, and thinking everything looked favorable,
he cautiously reached his foot down until it
rested upon the upright leVel. Then he made a
sudden push with it, came Inear losing his bal-
ance, and found that he could not stir it. It
took quite avigorouseffort to remove the heavy
gates, and he labored at too great disadvantage
in his efforts to do so.

Unwilling to give up a task which appeared
so unobjectionable to his enemy, Herbert pre-
pared to repeat the attempt. Reaching care-
fully down with his foot, he made another (les-
perate push, but it could avail nothing, and he
was compelled reluctantly to give over the at—

tewt. ,

hile the boy sat debating with himself
whether to descend and grasp the handle with
both hands, and trust to his own nimblcness to
escape, the affair took upon it an entirely new
and unexpected character. But a few minutes
had elapsed since the first alarm, although the
time seemed far longer to him who was most
concerned.

The bear sat with his back toward the saw,
which all this time was advancing upon him.
All at once it niplped his tail, and with an angry
growl, he hitche along. The saw did the same,
and scarce a minute elapsed when it gave him
another twitch. More enraged than ever, bruin
threw his head round and gave a threatening
growl, as if to warn the audacious intruder that
no further liberties would be permitted, while
at the same time he took a position with his side
turned. toward it, his immense body pulsating
like so much jelly, with each pelt of the log.

Steadin as eVer the saw advanced, until at
the proper second it gave a sharp scratch in his
hauucb, followed immediately by n severer one.
Thoroughly infuriated, the bear now whirled
around, and throwing his aws about the saw,
began a fierce contest wit it, biting, clawing
and tearing at the iron which was more effect-
uully doing the same for him, until his blood
streamed over the log, and he was wounded
night unto death.

CHAPTER VII. ’

END OF THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE BEAR AND
THE SAW—IMMIGRATION—A r HUNT IN THE
WOODS—A HUNTER TREED BY A BEAR—d
TIMELY ARRIVAL OF HERBERT—A NEW
FRIEND. -

THE bear grappled and struggled with the
saw, which was tearing its way into his Vitals,
as if it were an animal of the woods with which
he was enga ed. There can be but little doubt
as to the on of this sin ular combat, had not
the sharp crack of a ri e sounded above the
clamor of growls and crunching saw, and the
bear to pled off the log an inanimate body,
while ligr. Bin ham sprung forward and shut
off the flow 0% water before any material in-
'jury was done his saw. . . ' i

“ Before you take a partner in the busmess, I
would suggest that you consult me,” he laughed,
as his son clambered down from his erch.

“I shall surely do so," replied I erbert, “if
he comes in that style.”

Perseverance brings its reward. That which
at first sight seems impossible gives way to un—
remitting effort; continual dropping wears
away stones, and the tiny stream of water
trickling through the bank, opens the channel
for the mighty river. So it is with the mind;
it gathers strength from repeated efforts until
it accomplishes. wonders. Herbert Bingham
found himself progressing steadily, and, as he
p ogressed, his mind expanded and reached
a ter other truths.

Summer, autumn, and winter passed, and
emigration flowed westward with an ever-in-
creasing current. F‘lat—boats were continually
descending the Ohio, and the emigrants some-
times came through the woods from other d1-
rections, some following the/ celebrated
“ Boone’s Trace,” while a few seemed to aun_to
“ cut across," oblivious of the double difficulties
thus encountered. ‘ I , _

* In the six months succeeding the first want of
Mr. Bingham to RiVerton, the place increased
over onethird of its size. That was amem-
orable year in the history of emigration to the
West; and when ring came a half dozen

 

cabins were rising w thin sight of the saw- mill,
and the miller. began to‘ suspect that when he

I» ,

  

  
 

 

located here, he laid the foundation of a town,

whose vigorous infancy had already begun.

This was a belief as pleasant to his family as
to himself. There was asense of security sur-
rounded by his own people which he had not
felt until now; and the society of friends was
pleasant and grateful to his wife who had so
long been deprived of them. Herbert also
found com anions, but for that matter, none of
them coul equal the companionship of his
books, although he did enjoy an occasional
ramble through the woods with them.

We need hardly say that the sawmill enjoyed
no rest, except that which was forced upon it
in the filing of its teeth, and, now and then, the
doctoring of some of its organs which had been
racked rather severely. Then, too, its existence
was more than once seriouslylimperiled. In
the spring came a freshet, so violent that nei<
ther the sluice-gate nor that of the mill could
afford an adequate escape. The result was that
a portion of the dam was carried away, which,
though a seeming calamity in itself, was the
salvation of the mill.

Precisely the same thing occurred a month
later, when, with the assistance of his friends
be constructed an escape gate amply sufficient
for any pressure of water to whic the bank
could be subjected. The capacity of the mill
was not sufficient to supply the wants of the
settlers, and many of them created log houses,
contenting themselves with the prospect of se-
curing lumber for more prepossessing dwel-
lings at some future time.

Riverton being only. three miles up the river,
there was constant communication between the
two places. A path was formed through the
woods, and no walk could be more delightful
than this on a fair spring morning, or durin
the sultry summer weather. There was a coo —
ness beneath the impenetrable shadow of the
trees—an exuberance of vegetation that made
it grateful to the weari'ed, languid body. And
there was the occasional sight of the timid deer,
or the fierce wild animal, or, perhaps, the
American Indian in his gaudy, fantastical
dress, which gave a wild beauty to the scene,
and made it one belonging peculiarly to our
own countr . '

One day, in the autumn of the year succeed—
ing that in which the saw-mill was erected,
Herbert concluded to take a ramble. in the
woods with his gun, leaving the. mill in charge
of the hired mangwho. having toiled so long
and faithfully with Mr. Bingbam, had gained a;
little recreation in this we . The Binghams
had never owned a dog, and erbert went forth
entirely alone. ’

The air was crisp and clear, and there was an!

elasticity about~his youth and healthful frame
which made this hunt the keenest enjdyment,
and he knew there was plenty of game in the
woods to keep him busy if he chose to spend a
month there. So he told his mother not to ex«
pect him back until nightfall, and, shoulderiu
his gun, he bade them a cheerful good-by, an
plunged into the forest.

With no particular object in view, Herbert
took‘ a direction toward Rivertou, saunterin
aimlessly forward, ready for,auy ame that o -
fered, but not particula‘r‘lfy dispose to turn out
of his path to seek it. en about half—way to
the settlement, he turned to the left, and wan-
dered up the banks of a smalhstream which
crossed the path.- Numbers of birds darted up
before, and 5 ed out. of Sight with a whirring
noise whfle e rabbits and squirrels were con-
stantly in sight; but the hunter was in quest
of nobler game, and he scarcely noticed these.

Fully one half of the forenoon had passed, and.

‘still there was nothing seen of the deer, when

he finally paused on the edge of the stream,
Kneelin down, he slaked his thirst with the
icy col water, and then began to consider
whether it was best to ascend the brook any
higher, or change his direction. He was thus
occupied, when he obserVed that the brook had.
suddenly become soiled and ruddy, while at the
same time a plashing reached his ears, as if
made by some creature dabbling in it.

“There must be something to do that,” was
his conclusion, “and I’ve no doubt I’ll at the

shot I’ve been looking for ever since start-

ed.”
Saying which, he arose and began cautiously
ascending the stream, but had scarcely taken a

dozen steps when the near report of a rifle ‘

reached his ears, fcllowed by a furious rushing,
as though something was tearing through the
brush and undergrowth at the top of its speed.
While he was still wondering what it could
mean, a terrified voice reached his ear.
“ Help! help! eLyiuick! quickl or I am lost 2”
Herbert dash straight toward the point

   

 

 

jghuj ..  _

 

 

  
   

         
 
  

  
   

 

 

    
 

' this juncture that hes uttered those

1 III

The Settler’s Sm;

 

  

 

 

I from whence came the cry for help, and whose

sudden oessation,.he feared, meant- that help
was already too late. But hurrying forward a
fewrhundred 1yards, he quickly discovered an
explanation o the clamor which had reached
his ears so startlingly. A fleshy man, who eyi-
dently had little experience in hunting. Judging

' from his dress and actions, had fired his gun at
a large 'bear, which he had only wounded,

whereupon the brute had turned upon him, and
throwing away his gun, he had run for dear
life.

Like many persons, when panic-stricken, the
frightened man did the very thing he ought to
have avoided. Instead of springing up a sap-
ling and climbing beyond reach, he caught
1101 of the limb of an enormous oak, and our
sconced himself among the branches. He had
scarcely done so, however, when, to his horror,
he saw the bear climbing after him. It was. at
I . piercing
cries for help which caught the ear of erbert
Bin ham. ,

' hen the latter reached the tree, the fleshy
hunter was on the topmost limb, ready to spring
to the ground when his pursuer came too near.
The limb was already swaying with its unusual
weight, and it was more than probable that
when the bear placed his paws upon it, the
Whole thing, including man and brute, would
come tumb ing to the ground.

In this critical state of affairs, the hunter
caught sight of the boy below him, and called
out:—

Iv“ Will you do me the favor, my friend, to
knock this unmannerly brute off the limb? He
is coming uncomfortably close.” -

“I will do it,” replied Herbert, “ but I must
make my aim sure, for I have no time to re-
load.”

Herbert waited until certain of his aim, and
then sighting at the point directly behind his
fore-1e , pulled the trigger. The colossal brute
instant y tumbled from the branch, With a ter—
rific growling and clawing of the leaves, and
striking the earth heavily, expired with a few
convulsive struggles.

The moment the bear fell, the man came hur-
rying down the tree, his clothes suffering con-
siderably during the process. Dropping upon
the ground, he caught the hand of the boy, and
wrung it very cordially.

* “ Boy, you have been the means of saving my
life!" he exclaimed, his heart overflowing with
gratitude.

“Next time you are chased by a bear," re-
turned Herbert, somewhat embarrassed, “ climb
a small tree instead of a large one.”

‘f (1 why so?”

“ Because a bear can’t climb a small tree, and
he‘can a large one. If you had one up a sa
ling instead of the one you did, you woud
never have been placed in such danger.”

“But my thankfulness to you remains the
same. Let me inquire our name.” -

“ Herbert Bingham;
which, if you listen carefully, you may hear
running this minute.”

“I have heard of you! I have heard of you!”

I said the stranger, quite hastily, as he busied
r himself in brushing and putting

to rights—so
far as was possible—his dilapidated clothes.
“Lhave heard of you, I say, and it has been a
$0041 report. I am right glad to make your
lcqumntance. But I threw my gun away when
the bear took after me; suppose we go back and
100k for it. I confess it don‘t look as though a
gun was of much use to me but nevertheless, I
can hardly afford to lose it." ‘

They Walked along toward the rifle, which
0011111 be 5991! gleamin among the leaves, the
stranger talking very reely,

“ I suppose you do not know me?”

“I do not remember that I have ever seen
you,” replied Herbert, certain that they had
never met before. _

“I am John R. Brandon, and moved mm
Riverton only last week. I started out today
to take a look at the C911_nt!:Y, and I have cer.
tainly gained quite a v1v1d Idea of its inhabit-
ants,” remarked Mr. Brandon, With a laugh. ,

“ Won’t you acwmpany me home?“ '

“ I thank you; I am hardly “1 3, Presentable
condition; but I shall take the earliest occasion
to 93“ upon you. Depend upon It, I shall never
forget the service you have done me. "

“ I am sure I have done nothing more than I
would have done for another person, and no
more than you would have done for me under
such circumstances.”

_ .“ That is if I could have aimed well enough—.—
but you talk to me like a boy who has recened
quiteaneducation.” - ,

cannot say as to that; I have studied)

live near the saw~mill, '

 

good dealhhut the most that I canlearn, it
Seems to me, doesn’t amount to anything."

“A good sign—a good sign; deliver me from
those youngsters Who imagine themselves smart
and educated, when they haven’t et learned
enough to comprehend that they now noth-
mg.

Herbert was at a loss what to say; his com-
panion was so communicative, and talked with
such fluency that he hardly knew how to reply
to him. There was a certain frankness about
him which pleased the boy, and Mr. Brandon
succeeded finally in “drawing out” his young
friend. The latter told him what books he
studied, which were his favorites, and how
much he lon ed for the opportunity of acquir-
ing a ood e ucation.

Mr. random listened with great interest to
what he said, and when he had finished, he re-

lied:

p “ Well, Herbert, you will find me plain spoken,
perhaps you may sometimes think me quite
blunt; but what I say and do shall be for your
own good. I will remark that, aside f on: the
inestimable service you have renders me, I
like your appearance and manner.”

Herbert thanked him for his good opinion,
and ex rossed the hope that he might always
meriti . Mr. Brandon had picked up his rifle,
and they now walked slowly down the bed of
the stream until they reached the main path,
where they paused for a few parting words.

“ I am a. lawyer from the city of Philadelphia,
where I have practiced for a dozen years. I
have come to Riverton with the intention of
settling there. I have no family or friends
with me. I would like to have you enter my
office, and take up the study of law with me.
It shall cost you nothing; it will be a pleasure
gor’rne to direct you; come and see me; good—

y.

Mr. Brandon turned on his heel, and walked
toward Riverton, while Herbert Bingham saun-
tered homeward, his mind filled with thoughts
of the new project which his strangely-formed
friend had given him.

He walked along the path mechanically, not
noticing his footsteps, and lost in delightful
reverie, until he was brought to a stand-still by
an angry growl; and, raising his head, he saw
that if he had advanced a dozen steps further,
the appalling danger that confronted him would
have been fatal!

CHAPTER VIII.

THE WILD-CAT—A CALL UPON HIS NEW FRIEND-
A N EW PROJECT—AN APPALLING DANGER, TO
THE SETTLEMENT.

THAT pen‘l in Herbert Bingham‘s path was in
the she e of awild-cat. It stood, or rather,
was w ing slowly toward him, its eyes glow-
ing, its fan -like teeth displayed, spitting,
growling, wit its fur erect, and ana pearance
of the most furious rage. This con ition was
explained by the presence ofa couple of kittens—
if the expression be allowable—frolicking be-
hind it. The maternal instinct led it thus'to
meet, half-way, the danger which threatened
its oung.

erbert could have shot it, but in ity for the
fospring, he resolved not to harm t 9 mother,
unless compelled to do so in self-defense. Ac-
cordingly, he began walking backward. keep
mg his eye fixed upon the wild-cat, and the
hammer of his rifle raised, so as to be ready for
any demonstration n n the part of the brute.
The latter followed him some distance, until the
fear of desertmg its young checked it, when it
pausfm» and still snarling and growling, glared
at him until a curve in the path hid him from
sight. Herbert then made a circuit, and came
mto the path at a point so far beyond his new
acquaintances that there was no danger of in—
terruption from them.

The Singular'meeting between Mr. Brandon
and Herbert Bmgham was one of those occur-
rences which mark an era in human life. As
he made his way homeward, he could not but
reflect upon his parting words, and they gave
him such apleasureas he had never experieDCed.
It seemed as if Providence was leading him on—
ward and upward.

When he reached home, and all were gather-
ed around the table in the evening, be related
his adventure of the day, expressing-a wish
that he might callu n his new friend on the
marrow; but Mrs. ingham, with her usual
good sense, adviSed him to wait until he could

rame

'rude porch, his heart throbbed, and with a

 

some suitable excuse for going to Riven

ton; as she ‘ deemed it  at the beginning of V them."

   
    
  
 
  
 
  
 
   
    
  
   
  
 
   
   
  
 
 
   
 
 
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
 
   
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
    
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
    
  
  
 
     
      
  
 
  
  
 
         

their friendship that he should not presumetoo
much upon it.

Two days wore slowly away and than Mrs.
Binghain made an errand for her son, and‘sent
him to Riverton, with a suggestion to make his
call upon Mr. Brandon quite brief. as that gen-
tleman doubtless had other matters claimin
his attention. Herbert saw the wisdom 0
what his mother said, and promised compli- J
ance.

When he entered Riverton, he was struck
more forcibly than ever before with the rapid
growth and the future prOspects of the place.
The immigration, which had remained in a state
of comparative stagnation for a number of
years, had within the present year taken a new ‘ ,
impetus, and Riverton could not fail soon to *
reach the dimensions of a town, and eventually
of a good-sized city.

As Herbert walked down the main street.
looking from side to side for the residence of
Mr. Brandon, almost the first object that met
his eye was aneatly-paiuted sign of the law
office of his friend. As he stepped upon the

3rembling hand he knocked at the partly open
oor. I

It was promptly opened by Mr. Brandon him-
self, who grasped the hand of his visitor, and « a I
made him so cordially welcome that he felt at
ease at once. A great surprise awaited Herbert
as be entered the lawyer’s ofice, for on one side
of the room stood a broad high book-case, every
shelf of which was filled with good, portly
volumes, handsomely bound. He had never
seen such a collection of works, and when'ha
looked at his host it was with the certainty
that he must be one of the happiest men liv

1F. .

Both being seated, Mr. Brandon asked regard-
ing his friends and himself—some of his ques-
tions being rather pointed and direct—after
which he inquired as to the studies whichhe ‘ .
had been pursuing, and the books which he
had read during the last year. Having learned
this, the lawyer then tested his knowledge of
each subject, by a number of general question!
suflicient to indicate whether he had bestow ‘ 
much thought upon them. From the searching ‘ '
character of these ueries, Herbert saw that
his man was thoroug ly conversant with every-
thing which he had read himself, and he was
inspired with a deeper sense than ever of his
profound attainments.

Having satisfied him$elf on these points, Mr.
Brandon took a different tack. , ‘

“ Undoubtedly our mind is inclined to
study,” he observe , “and you onlyneeddirect- ~
ing, and occasionally a. little assistance. My ,
friend, you have the greatest blessing a. boy i
can have.”

“What is that?” inquired Herbert, as his 
host made a slight pause.

“ A noble mother; she has instilled into your
mind the best precepts and the purest maxim
which can govarn one’s life. She has laid them
foundation of a good, sound education, and
with your permission, I shall begin to build ,
upon that foundation.” '.

Herbert smiled, and waited for him to make
his meaning clear. '

“ You are cut out for a lawyer,‘to use a com-
mon expression. and, with the consent of your
parents, you must consideryourself from this-
time fort as under my specml c e. You are *’

et, perhaps, too young to begin the study of _,
aw proper, but you can begin a course of 
paratory reading.” a

Mr. Brandon arose, and took down a volume 
from his bookcase. .

,“ Here is a work which may, perhaps, inter-
est you not qmte so much as some that you
have been reading, but, nevertheless, it is im-

rtant that you should read and digest it. ’_

léase look at it. and tell me how many pages I,
you can read a day.” ,

Herbert turned the leaves over a few mo-
ments, saw that it was a historical wax-hand
then answered: ,

“I think I can read twenty of those pages
very well.” / . ' _

“ I don’t want you to do any such thing; you ’
have mentioned 'ust four times as much as you _
oughttoread. hat is the fault of childhood,
that is too often content to skim over the sur-
face of things. I want you to read five p
in the forenoou, and spend the rest of them
and evening in thinking about it, endeavo
to recall every oint that has been to I
upon. The next y read five pages more, hp!
do the same. 011 the third day read over 
ten es, and come to me in‘ the afte v ~
we w spend an hour or two in talln‘ 

 

 

P
,. ~,

 
  

 . _‘.»ThB'S‘ett1er $3511.

  

 

L

  
 
 

, every week to see you!” ' ,
 “, hat is precise y what Imean.”
, "‘ For how long a time?”

“About twoyeam; when, if nothing occurs
toprevent it, you will be quite well prepared
v. to take up the study of law.’ '

H B t>~_” .
, ,“Well, what is it?” ' v
 _ Herbert wished to express his gratitude, but
,(did not know how to do so. His friend saved
 him the trouble.
“I suppose you wish to say you are thankful;

‘ ,as I did when you hit that bear soneetl y. You
see, you are yet young enough, and I wish to
 / lead you through a course of training. You

are not yet prepared to take up the study of
. lay. but, as I remarked, byacouple of years, I
think you can be ready.”

‘.‘ I hope I shall prove able.”

“That depends upon yourself. There is no
excellence without great labor, is my favorite
maxim. Lawyers are a sort of necessary evil
_ the community,” laughed Mr. Brandon, “ and

e must do what we can to make them as bear-
ableas possible.”
. ’ Herbert could but consent to the truth of this

remark.
‘ ' “Let me say to you, my friend, that there is
a glorious future efore you; you can see how
thevWest is growing; you should identify your-
,self with this territory, grow up with it. and let
its interests be your own, and you will find that
. our country will not be ungrateful. Provi-
ence has placad you in the field, He has given
. ,ou the ability, and it now rests with you, to
mprove these 0 portunities. If you fail, rc-
member you fai through your own remiss-
‘nessfl’ '

“Ican’seaiynthat if it depends upon that, I
,"I hope so~—I hope so; it is easy to form a
good resolution; it 18 another thing to carr it
I . It is a peculiarity of childhood that it is

   
   
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
   
 
 
 

reader study,‘you must concentrate your mind
upon {it—don’t wander off into day-dreams and
,imaginings of what you are going to do when
on reach man’s estate; work, WORK, WORK,
at is~what you have. to do.”

  
 
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
 
  
 

while thus enga ed. Having decided upon this,
heconce‘ntrat all his mental energies. upon
$31: pue subject, to the exclusion of everything

_ . I believe there is a good deal in that; and
166.1110 commend the habit to you. You will
_ , ditwfll eventually improve the mind. and
make yOu ready and keen upon any subject
that is brought to your attention.”

«The hour bad whiled away so rapidly that
gushed: started up with the thou ht that he

overstaid the proper time, and e made an
analogy for (loin 50. .

. “Never mind,’ said Mr. Brendon,’ “ to—day is
Wednesday; come again to me on Saturday, and
AWe will discuss the first ten .pages of the work
“have given you. Remember and follow my
irections to the letter, I have some labor that
linings my attention, and.l will therefore bid

11 gooduaftemoon.” *
As Herbert Binghem passed out of Mr. Brun-
don’s office, he was so deeply in meditation

hat, fora time, he did not notice an unusual
aficitement in the little settlement: but it was

r V 't, and was spreading so rapidly, that it
éafiiamt fail to attract his attention. He saw

‘dlonel Rin gold run hurriedly to the block-
Mum, and t ‘next moment an acquaintance

“Mani dashed up to him.
_.“. 5;} 0, Herbert! how long ago did you leave
9 .

  

   
 
  
  
   
     
  
 

    

 
 
 

  

 
    
 
  
   
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
  
   
 
  
 

:“Severel hours.”
‘;Then you haven’t heard the news.”
‘No' what is it?” I
thouepnd Shawanees and Miemis have
. I", over from Kentucky to attack the
Herbert’s heart seemed to stop heating at this
appalling intelligence, and, choking down his
'ons as much as ssible, he inquired for a
particulars: bu his informer was in a
hurry, and turned off to make sure that
family was safe. .. _, ,

 
 
  
 
  

  
 
  

".‘You do not mean that} shall come, twice

well, you ought tofeel so, though not so deeply .

' they found the last canoe shoving

 

- I Then

The boy run hither and thither and finally
succeeded in checkinga man who new some-
thing about the matter, long enough to gain
some idea of the danger. A hunter had come
in about half an, hour previous, and reported
that he saw a large number of Indians crossing
from Kentucky in their canoes.

He watched them long enough to see to what
tribes they belonged, and to understand that

they were in their Wur»paint, and that they.

were moving with all dispatch against the saw—
mill—as the collection of houses down the river
was popularly known. Observing that they
were a numerous and powerful party, this hun—
ter had made all haste to Riverton to warn
Colonel Ringgold of his peril

The latter, with a sort of grim pleasure at
this proof of his wisdom in keeping the block-
bouse in continual preparation, ordered the W0-
men and children to take refuge in the building,
while the men armed themselves, and made
everything ready ‘for the expected assault.
This done, he sent out a number of men to keep
him posted regarding the movements of his
enemies '

Herbd‘t was in distressing perplexity as to
whether he should-remain in Riverton or hurry
home. Prudence told him to do the former,
but he could not bear the thought of being
away from his home when his people were in
danger. He had failed to brin his gun with
him for the‘first time since be ad ever come
away from home, and now when he tried to
borrow one, found it impossible. Every person
ex acted to have use for his owu weapon.

Solonel Ringgold, fearing that his neighbors
down the river were in great danger, selected
twenty of his most reliable men, and placing
them under a good leader, sent them off to
render what assistance lay in their ower. As
the best that could be done, Her ert joined
these, though several warned him of the danger
of doing so.

Plunging into the woods, the company made
all haste toward their beleaguered friends, their
footsteps materially quickened by the fact that
they could now hear the cracking of rifles and
those dreadful whoops and yells to which the
American Indian gives vent when attacking an
enemy.

CHAPTER IX.

,THE INDIAN ATTACK AND REPULSE—MR. BRAN-

DON’S Visrr ——— HERBna'r's morasson
CHOSEN—PROGRESS—HUGH STRAKLE.

As the party reached the vicinity of the
settlement. they proceeded with great caution;
The reports of rifles for a time were quite fierce
und rapid, and then they ceased almost as sud-
denly as they began, with the exception of now
and then a random one. Several of the more
during hunters hurried forward into the clear—
ing, but were gone but a few minutes when they
rushed back, pale with excitement. »

“ ‘he Indians have set fire to the mill, and
are retreating!"

The entire company now dashed forward at
the top of their speed. As they reached the
clearing they were compelled to run through a
cornfield before they,could ‘gain a vmw of the
buildings, when the first sight that met their
eyes was the flames bursting through the ‘upper
part of the saw—mill. V

“Quickl'a lot of you bring water, while we
give ’em a nrting shot!" commended the
loader, hurrying toward the river, where u
number of Indians could be seen embarking in
their canoes. / ’ ,

Herbert deeming the salvation of the mill of
more importance than that of revenging them-
selves upon their nggressors, bonded the few
who proceeded to di ) water from the 0nd and
dash it upon the b azing beards. t was an
extremely dilficult‘task to subdue the flames, us
the planks upon the roof had become seasoned,
and burned with rent fierceness, otthough the
lower part of the uilding was Quite green, and
was much less combustible. _

As the rest of the party reached the river,
_ The In-
dians perceiving them, believed they were the
advance of large reinforcements, and made all
haste to get beyond their reach; but the pur-
suers, uttering yells as terrible as those of .the
red-men, fired as fast as they ,could reload and
aim, and here and there the answering outcry
and the spasmodic throwing up of the arms, and
in one or two cases the springin overboard of
the aggre’ssors, showed that man of these shots
were takin ifataletfect. , ' . ,

, thewnteat and retreat was one of
, , I I

  

came so famous durin the border wars. ‘ In a. ’
few moments after t e arrival of our friends
they had reached the Kentucky shore, plunged.
into the woods and were seen no more.

Then the settlers, besieged for the short time,
come forth and greeted their friends. It was
found on examination that three of their num-
ber were'missing, they not having had time to
reach shelter before the savages were upon
them. One of these made his appearance short—
ly after the departure of their enemies, with the
sad announcement that his two companions had
been carried away. As they were never seen
gigerward, there can be little doubt of their

a e.

The a preach of the Shawnees and the M"-
amis ha been accidentally discovered before
they reached the Ohio bank, and the people at
once rushed into their houses, and Secured the
doors and windows for defense. The time was
so short that theylbarely had time to do this when
their dusky foes landed, and began a fierce
attack. They divided into two parties, one of
which made a rush at Mr. Bingham’s house, but
were unable to force the door inward, while the
other party were defeated in like manner in
their assault upon another building. .

Th y find at the‘windows and o wings, and
many narrow est-apes occurred. he thousand
Indians of the frightened settler who gave Her-
bi-rt the information, roved to consist of some-
thing less than a bun red. Had they dared to
remain the entire day on the Ohio river and

rosecute the assault, there can be but little
( oubt of their final success, but, fearful of mo—
lestation from above the river, they staid less
than an hour, and, short as was that time, it
has been seen that it served for Colonel Ring~
goldis men to give them a taste of their temper
before they got away.

As may well be supposed, Mr. Bingham and
his wife were greatly concerned for the safety
of Herbert, fearing that he Would return and.
not discover his peril until too late for him to
"escape. Great, therefore, was the gratitude of

 

all when they were reunited, unharmed.

As this foray of the Shawanecs and the Miami's
was a most flagrant violation of their treat ,
steps were taken to discover and punish t e
marauders; but, as usual in such cases, itresulto.
ed in nothing, except in an extraordinary vigi~

time afterward. '

The mill. and such of the houses as had been
injured, were soon repaired. and the place took
11 on itself its usual look. Labor was resumed,
3 though, as has just been remarked, the people
were unusually careful. There was not a
building which did not bear the marks of the
Indian bullets, and these were often pointed out
long years afterward, as mementoes of the last
andonly incursion the place ever suffered from.
the red—men.

Despite the distracting circumstances sur-
rounding him, Herbert Bingham found the time .
to follow out the instructions of Mr. Brandon; '
and, when he visited his office on Saturday, and
gave him a succinct account of the visit of the
Indians, the latter, after complimenting his
coolness, said: . I

“ I presume you have hardly been in a condi-
tion for study. ’ i

“ I have done what I could.”

“Well, I shall soon see."

Thelawyer took the book in his hand, and
ran his eye OVer the pages a few minutes to
assure himself re urding their contents. He ‘
then closed it, left it down, and began a series
of questions upon it, which seemed to Herbert
to comprehend the pith of every paragraph in
the book. He answered him ' very well, but not
nearly as well as he was certain of doing when
he had entered his oflice. ‘

" A pretty good recitation,” commented Mr.
Brandon, “pretty good, considering the disado
vantages under which you labored, but there
is room for improvement, which I am sure you
will make. Be thorough." _

Herbert was disappointed. He bad= been
pesitive that he understood his lesson perfectly,
but the rigid examination of his‘instructor had
proved to him. as it seemed, that he knew
nothing at all about it, and he was considerably
mortified over the fact. A little judicious ,
praise, however, from Mr. Brandon, made him
eel more at ease. and be resolved to make
amends in the future. ' '

The next lesson was indeed an im rovement.
Herbert made himself so perfect y familiar

with it that he could not be taken at fault, and
Mr. Brandon was compelled to admit that it: ,
could not have been better. ‘ '

 

 

“Now, the next question,” said  3‘33."

\

those sudden things for which the Indiaus’he» ‘

   

lance among the settlers along the Ohio foralong I

   

 
      
   
    
      
 
    
   
 
    
 
  
  
   
 
 
  
   
 
   
   
  
 
    
 
 
 
    
   
  
   
 

 

 
    
     

  

., I 7‘ 3‘

ms

 

galleriesom ’ V l '

 

    
 

’ three amte times in our lyceum, and I was

, informe thatryou had used the same original

‘ remark once or twice in your speeches around
the country.”

Hugh Strakle hardly knew what to say to
this; and, after a moment’s silence, he conclud-
ed to say nothing.

“ Where are you going to put out your shin-

a!

1, “ I think I shall remain in the office with Mr.
" Brandon; he has given me a very good oppor—
' - tunity, and I should prefer to spend the first

/ year under his eye.”
 « “It will ruin you, Bingham, ruin you, just as
sure as you live; you’d better cut loose from
, that old iogy, who won’t touch a case unless he
, I is sure he can make his art square with what
he calls his conscience. udgel the idea! Have

' no tience with it.”

y erbert was in great danger of losing his

' temper. Turning round, so as to face his com-

panion, he said: -

“Understand, once for all, Mr. Strokle, that
I will not hear- my friend talked of in that

’ manner.”

“ What’ll on do about it?” was the importi-

. neat demon of the lawyer, thrusting his

thumbs in the armholos of his vest, and assum—
ing a mock tragic attitude.

‘-‘ You utter another word, and I will show
you what I will do,” was the reply of Herbert,
:«who was growing ale with anger.

‘,‘”You will, eh? erhaps— Ah! you‘d better

 

 

~ ' Edit this juncture, Herbert’s arm was taken
[from behind, and he was led forcibly several
, steps before he saw that it was Mr. Brandon
, who was doing it.

“.There is one thing which I see you have not
. 199.1116d,”said the old gentleman, “you cannot
control your temper, and you will make sorry
work in your profession so long as you are on
L able to do that. "

,1, could bear.”

“,After this, understand, I will take my own
‘part. no matter how violently assailed, and
pleas? do not become my champion before I ask

u. -

,They walked slow] on to the office, into

which Herbert entere , while Mr. Brandon ex-
himself on the plea of business. The

young man had not been left alone five minutes,

when the door was suddenly opened, and an

round the room asked:—

x “Be you the lawyer?”

f‘ Yes, sir,” replied Herbert, with some feel-

ing of pride, as he saw his first case before him.
2‘ Can you do something for me?” I

~ , ‘Z’That depends upon what it happens to

.“ Just look at that, will cu?” said the settler,
thrusting a paper into his and.

- (Herbert examined it, and saw that it was a
onnssor note of a hundred dollars, payable
1': dame d, drawn up legally, and properly
a e .

, E’Well, what do you want done?” .

. " That hundred dollars is for a colt I gold
Jddab Tompkins, and I want him to pay it.

“Is he a man of means?”

“ Mighty mean-the horse is worth two hun-
died dollars, every cent of it."

4" as he rtyl”

. " rtain —-one of the richest men within
ten miles. want to put it in your hands, and
I want on to make him pay it. I will give you
' if you will et it of him."

“I don’t do that ind of business. I shall
011:1ng you a regular fee whether I succeed or

$ch .

"‘ But you ain’t arguing to fail?” asked the

ccuntryman, in some alarm.

"‘ I; have no fear of it.” ,

f‘How soon can you get it?"

" The case can be tried next week; does Mr.
Tompkins know you are going to sue him?”

‘ : ea; he has got that scam of a lawyer
named Btrakle to help him; but reckon you’re
party near as art as he is.”

A. brill ran through Herbert at the thought
that his first case was to bring him in collision
With the man whom he despised so heartily, and

could net‘suppress his feeling of exultation at
the'manner 111 which he was going to vanquish

How anxious he felt for the day of trial
tol'fcome, and how carefully he prepared him-
19

   
     
   
    
   
 
    
 
  
   
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
 

E.
P‘
9.

The day did come at last, and the court-room
_ as bhrong'ed with the scores drawn thither by
theknowladge that Strakle and Bingham were
it'sppear against each other. The latter was
alland favorably known, but both parties had

    

3" I “But to hear him sneer at you was more than

(meet Idoking farmer stepped in, and, staring»

 

their friends, who were quite anxious to see the
result, especially as it was known that the two
young men, from the force of circumstances,
were the rivals of each other.

Herbert, appearing for the plaintiff, opened
the case. He had conned his remarks so thor-
oughly, that he had them all by heart. He
represented his client as a poor, honest, worthy
man, struggling hard to support his family,
parting with a favorite horse, at one half his
value, in order to meet his pressing wants, and
only demanding that {1 written promise to pay
should be fulfilled. Mr. Tompkins was a man
of means, abundantly able to buy a hundred
such horses: but whether able or not, the moral
obligation remained the some. He had incurred
an honest debt, and he had nothing to do but to

ay it.
P Such was the substance of what the lawyer
said in his maiden speech at the bar, rather too
eloquently to please entirely Mr. Brandon, who
sat in the room, a deeply interested spectator of
the proceeding.

Mr. Sirakle rose to reply. He was deeply im-
pressed with the eloquence of his young friend;
he might safely say that ho was overwhelmed.
Patrick Henry, and Otis, and Demosthenes
could not be compared. to him. A truly great
light had appeared—u light whose rays were
destined to illuminate the whole country. And
when be reflected that this light came out of
the woods—away out of the backwoods—the
thought was astounding. Tlio gentlemen of the
jury would excuse him, but——

And here Mr. Strnkle, with muck emotion,
took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes,
while nearly every one in the room was in a.
broad grin, excepting Herbert, who felt like
flying at his tormentor and tearing him to
pieces.

“And to think this in all about a note—a
hundred-dollar note," continued Mr. Strakle, in
the same strain; “in is too much—too much.
But,” he added, appprently rallying by a great
efiort, “my client, l r. Tompkins, did give the
note—he doesn’t deny it—he is an honorable
gentleman—l7

“ Then why don’t be pay it?” demanded Her-
bert. excitedly.

“ For the Simple reason. that he has paid it,
and I hold in mv hand the recei tin full, signed
by Mr. Abram Eastman himsc f I 7’

“ It is a forgery !” cried out Herbert, in great
excitement.

The judge quieted the court, reached his hand
for the paper, read it, and then asked Eastman
whether that was his handwriting.

“ Y's, sir; I gave him that wcm' t, but the
colt turned out a better horse than expected,
and I thought. he could ajford to pay it over
again J”

The court-room burst into one general roar,
While Herbert Bingham wished that the earth
might open and swallow him. And. in the
midst of his intense chagrin, Mr. Brandon
pressed forward, and said:

“Served you right, Herbert; you ought to
have known better!”

CHAPTER XI.

THE ADVANTAGES OF DEFEAT—THE WISDOM 0F
AGE—ELECTION TO STATE LEGISLATURE—IN
CONGRESS—ONWARD AND UPWARD—CONCLU-l
SION.

THE iznominious defeat Which Herbert Binga
ham suffered at the hands of Hugh Strakle was
one of the most fortunate‘things which could
have happened to him. It did more to take the
romance and childish air~castles~out of his head
than two Vears of “ lecturing ” from his in—
structor. He was inexpressibly chagrined, not
only at the ridiculous rout to which be had been

ut, but at the ridiculous figure he had cut in
osing his temper.

Worst of all, Mr. Brandon informed him that
it was his private opinion (which, of course, he
Would express in no other one’s presence) that
he had made a complete fool of himself, and
committed a most serious blunder. It was a
bitter lesson, but it was the fire by which the
gold was to be refined, and be pressed down the
surging emotions, and went to work harder
than ever. '

A few weeks later, Bingham and Strakle
again appeared against each other in court, and,
as heretofore, quite a number of spectators were

resent. Strakle tried his old game of tan-
{hlizing his opponent, but our hero was too self~
possassed to sufler any discompoaure, and he
returned a few quiet thrusts, which cut as

cleanly and sharply as snilettoes. Mr. [Brandon

 

I

had enunciated it as a rule of ‘his professional
life to avoid personalities, but he didn’t seem
particularly displeased when his pupil made
several capital retorts—some of them so truth-
ful and well—winged that even Mr. Strakle him-
self winced.

The result of the trial was a success upon the
part of Herbert, who took his triumph very
quietly. Mr. Brandon did not even refer to
the matter until about a week after, when he
remarked casually that the young lawyer did
pretty well. The old gentleman was evidently
determined that his pupil should not be spoiled
by too much praise.

From this time forward there was no lack of
business for the lawyers in Riverton. The
place had assumed the dimensions of a large
town, and there was abundant and remunera-
twe work for Brandon & Bingham, and also for
Hugh Strakle.

The latter never found the occasion to repeat
the triumph which he had gained over his
young rival at the beginning of his career as a.
lawyer. Herbert never forgot the lesson, and
there can be but- little doubt that it was the
Best thing that could have befallen him at that

lime. ,
As the years increased, Mr. Brandon gradually
shifted his load upon the shoulders of his vigor—
cus partner, who grew and strengthened from
the additional labor required at his hands. The
advice and counsel of the experienced lawyer
was invaluable; but he saw that Herbert Bing—
ham was developing into a man who would
speedily become a great power in the West.

Our hero had been in practice but a few years
when he was offered the nomination for the
State Legislature. It was a great corn liment,
and he was strongly tempted; but, at t e earn-
est advice of Mr. Brandon, he declined the
honor.

“There’s plenty of time, Herbert,” said, he,
“don’t let your ambition run away with your
discretion. The greed for office is the ruination
of many a talented young man. If you Were
elected, no doubt you would commit some
blunder which would take more years to set
right than did your performance with, Strakle
on the horse question.”

Five years later, however, when the nomina-
tion was again offered Herbert, he accepted it,
being urged thereto by Mr. Brandon. The
opposite party, as the best they could do, placed
at the head of their ticket the name of Hugh
Strakle, and the contest was begun. The cam
didates traveled from one end of the district to
the other, and each did all the work possible.
Strakle resorted to the low trickery to which
the politician descends but in the end he was
defeated, and Herbert gingham took his seat in
the Legislature, with a handsome majority of
the votes cast.

Herbert grew rapidly into a statesman and
orator. His habits of study, and the admirable
instruction hehad received, had stored his mind
with most valuable knowledge, and best of all.
with pure principles. He had a fine, musical
voice, and t ere were no speakers in the honor-

able body which commanded more attention ‘

then be.

He was re-elected three successive times to the
Legislature, when he declined anoihar nomina~
tion, as the business at home imperativer
demanded his attendance. But the next- year.
most unexpectedly to himself, he was nominated
for Congress. He was so surprised at the honor,
that he was at a 1055 Whether to decline or
accept. His first impulse was to accept. but
grave doubts arose in his mind, and in accor-
dance with his invanable custom at such times,
he went to his mother and to Mr. Brandon.

The old lady was reading her Bible when her
son came to her with the uesticn. She did not
tell him that she had hear of it before him, but
such being the fact, she was prepared with her

reply.

“I think, as it seems to be the wish of the
people, that lwould take it. You are tooxold
to be led astray by the temptations which beset
public men more than any one else, and I can-
not see any reason why you should decline,
when another such opportunity ma never
come to you a ain. But do not decrde until
you have consulied Mr. Brandon.”

Herbert kissed his mother as he passed out,

and shortly after he was in the office of his ,

instructor, and laid the question before him.

“ Accept it, my dear boy-accept it by all
means. here is a tide 1n the affairs of men,
which taken at the flood, etc. The tide has now
come, and you must take it at its fl Accept
it without delay, throw your who a heart into
it, and work with a consciousness that you
haven’t a single vote to spare.” '

u

 
      
       
     
   
   
   
    
   
  
 
  
  
  
   
   
  
 
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
    
     
  
    
   
     
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
   
  
  
   
 
  

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.3 we,“

 

 

, z???

    
 

_, . lhaiin ot

_’ of our citizens that

  lThe setters so... .

 

 

 

 

 _“I will do it,” replied Herbert, and then and
them he sat down and wrote his acceptance of
the nomination which had been tendered him,
doing it as briefly as ossible, and pledging his
whole strength and all honorable means toward
attaining success. ,

The opposition did not nominate their can—
didate until the succeeding month, so that Her-
bert was given until then to arrange his busi-
ness matters so as to give himself all the op—
portunity he wished to plunge body and soul
into the canvass. ‘

Finall the candidate appeared in the shape
of our 0 d acquaintance, Hugh Strakle, who had
toiled night and day to get the nomination. He
had made every pledge asked of him, and there
Was little doubt but that he would make a for-
midable competitor.

A week or two succeeding the nominations,
Herbert was sitting in the office conversing with
Mr. Brandon, and taking his advice as. to what
course he should pursue in the campaign upon
which he was about to enter, when our hero
abruptly asked him:

“ Have you seen the pa rs this week? I sup-
pose the nomination will e in each,”

“ Yes; I received both this morning, and you
are there,” he replied, as he took the “ Bugle of
Liberty,” from his hat, and deliberately opened
it, with a significant smile. '

“I believe there is a
some reference to you.
yourself.”

No man yet ever picked up a newspa .r
which be suspected contained a mention of is
name, without a peculiar interest, and Herbert
had never scanned the columns of the “ Bugle ”
with half the attention he now did.

It was indeed there, double-leaded. At the
top of the editorial column, in large letters, was
the name of Hugh Strakle, the people’s nomina-
tion for Congress. Then followed a long article,
in which this aspirant was praised to .the very
skies.

He was a triot, a statesman, an orator des-
tined to ran as one of the very; first id the
Union, a.’ self-sacrificin , public-spirited man,
who was the friend'of t e day laborer and me-
chanic, and one who would reflect the highest

' honor upon the district he represented, and
for whom no patriotic, intelligent man could re-
fuse to’work and vote, and the article ended
with the prophecy that he could/be elected by
an overwhelming majority. .

The next article was headed, “The Nominee
of the 0p sition,” and after giving a succinct
accounto the convention, and his nomination,
proceeded to so. : \

“We, as public journalists, haviugthe dearest
interests of the people at heart, are often com-

aragraph which has
on may read it for

polled to rform duties so painful, that we
would g y shrink from them, could we do so
thhou compromising our conscience. Ac-

tuated by these motives, we proceed to show

our friends the man who has been placed before
them as the nominee of the opposition, and who
has the effrontery to expect c has the slightest
chance against our own noble candidate.
“Herbert Bingham, if he received his deserts,
would now be serving out a term in the State
Prison. While a member of our Legislature, it
is well known that no bill could expect his ad-

' ' vocac until the honorable gentleman had re-

ceiv his price, and we have good reason to
believe that after accepting a bribe from one
party}; he turned and betrayed it to another,
or

rice.

‘tAnd this is'the nominee of the opposition.

‘ Herbert Bingham is a dissolute, unprinci-
p16? man. whose early dissipations and immo-
rality, it is. generally believed, hastened the
death of his father. The succeeding years,
which should have broug-Bt remorse and refor-
mation, have only con med the unfortunate
man in his excesses and crimes.

“ The descent of this man is such that no good
can be expected from him. His father was a
Tory during the Revolution. and his grand-
father, Orestes Z. Bingham, wasa deserter, who
was shot during the French W ar. An uncle of
the Congressional candidate was hung some
years ago in Kentucky for horsestealin . An.
other uncle was drummed out of neral
Wayne's army for drunkenness and cowardice,
and an only brother of our op neat is now serv-
ing out a. term in the Pennsy vania State Prison
for counterfeiting. Fortunately, Mr. Bingham,
r brother, else we should have the

of recording some heinous crime of

m. ,

“ And this is the nominee of the opposition.

“ It ismn insult to the intelligence and virtue
such a man as this, who

pinto]. du

. , . r”,
,./  ,‘ _ '

a reason that he was paid a higher“

 

should be hiding himself in obscurity for very
shame, should be thrust before them. ‘Let us
all give such a reproof to‘ these shameless
wretches that they will never recover from it.
Indeed, we know this will be done, and the op-
position will learn one thing: Henceforth, when
they enter a political campaign, let them do so
with respects, le men as their standard bearers,
and not with those who should be convicts in
our State Prison.”

Herbert read this extraordinary article from
beginning to end, and when he aid his paper
down he was in a towering passion.

“The scoundrel!” I'll make him suffer for
that!” he exclaimed, as he excitedly paced the

floor.

“ Rather forcible, isn’t it?” said Mr. Brandon,
speaking as though he saw nothing particularly
objectionable.

“Forcible! it is scandalous! it is outrageous!
I’ll cane that editor within an inch of his life,
and then I’ll prosecute him for libel—"

“Tut, tut,” interrupted Mr. Brandon, “not
so fast; this is one of the penalties of promi-
nency. It won’t hurt you.” '

Herbert stopped short, and faced his friend.

“ Do you see what it‘ says? It speaks of my
grandfather being shot as a deserter, when he
was killed at the siege of Quebec, and father
served under Washington all through the Revo-
lution. And then it says my conduct hastened
his death; that is too much 1’

And the tears coursed down his cheeks at the
recollection of the terrible words. -

“Rather hard I admit, but take it philoso-
phically. Those who know you know it is a.
lie, and those who are unacquainted with you,
understand that it is gotten up for political
eflect. Depend upon it, it won’t hurt you."

“And then it speaks of an uncle being hung,
and another drummed out of the arm , when
neither father nor mother ever had a rotber,
while I am accused of having a brother con-
victed of counterfeiting-—’|

Herbert sto ped to laugh at' the ludicrous as-
sertions, and e added:

“ Good heavensl who ever heard of such a.
thing! Where did he get all this extraordi-
nary information from i”

“From the father of all inventions, perhaps
assisted somewhat by Mr. Strakle.”

“It can’t be that Hugh would descend to such
villainy as that!”

“ It is just like him, and- you must make up
your mind to encounter a good deal of it before
the campaign is over. You have an unprinci-
pled man to deal with, but you have right and
Justice on your side, and, I believe, will triumph
over him.” ' -

“ But this editor has laid himself open to
prosecution,” replied Herbert, who was hardly
prepared as yet to take the matter as coolly as

is aged 'friend; “ there are distinct char
made which are libelous in character, and which
I am uni-e would secure his conviction before
an jury in the country.” «
r. Brandon shook his head. '

“ Very unlikely; these are election times, and
due allowance must be made for the natural ex-
citement which prevails. If it went against the
editor, he could make his correction after he
had done all the mischief possible. Further—
more, you are just about to enter upon the cam-
pai , and you have no time to undertake any
suc 1 business as this. Besides, if you feel par-
ticularly sore about what you have just read,
iyou gun now look at the 01: or side of the ques-

ion.

Mr. Brandon handed his youn friend the last
number of the Sentinel of Fre m, and point-
ed to its leading editorial.

4 perusal of this could not fail to produce a
smile; for it was almost the same as the one he
had Just read, except that the names were re—
versed.

Bingham there read that Hugh Strakle was a
vile unprincipled creature, and as long as he
trod the earth unmolested, just so long was the
gallows cheated of its due.

He had committed numberless crimes, and
was a being whom no respectableman would re-
caive into his society. It demanded that Chris-
tian, right-thinking people should rise in their
majesty, and indignantly resent the insult
which had thus been forced upon them.

But Mr. HerbertBinghaml ahl Noble, hi h-
minded, conscientious, patriotic, statesman ' e,
self-sacrificing, universally beloved—these were
a few of the modifiers that were strung through
a co] mu, and which seemed inadequate to ex—

the editor’s gushing admiration for his
loved candidate, “

Bingliam blushed crimson as he read this ful-
some flattery, of, himself I  took

     
 
  
 
 
  

 

“3";

place of indignation, and turning to Enamel» 1 ‘
on, he said: ‘ ' ‘

“One of these
liar.” _

“ I think both are,” was the truthful reply.

“ You are right; I would as lief be denounced,
as a villain and swindler as to be praised in that
citrageous style. I doubt whether either editor ‘
has ever seen me, or whether he ever heard of -
me before I came up for office.”

A half-hour later Bingham was walking med— ‘
itatingly homeward, when he encountered
Strakle on the street. They had met several
times since their nomination, and there was al‘
ways the appearance of cordiality and friend—-
ship between them. In fact, Bingham felt no
enmity at all toward his competitor, and was
glad to meet him as a personal riend.

They chatted awhile, and then Strakle sods,
denly drew the Bugle from his pocket. r ‘ .
“ By the way, Bingham, here is a. rich article '
that hI” have just read. I call that rather

i-oug . ,

And he pointed to the,~ editorial which so ce—
verely denounced his rival. Bingham looked ,
at it a few moments, and then handed it back, ,
with a remark that he had seen it before. . ‘

“Severe, ain’t it? I think if I was pitched
into in that style I would withdraw from the
canvass in disgust.” -" ‘

“Do you really think you would, now!”

“Indeed I would.”

Without another word, Bingham drew the
“Sentinel of Freedom ” from his pocket and
handed it to him. Stralile nervously opened it,
and his eyes quickly lit upon the article which
referred to him. He ran rapidly through ' ’
and then thrusting it back, fairly shouted, as h .
dashed away: '

“’I’ll cane, that, villain of an editor till he
can t standl ___,_ , , .

Sure enough, he encountered the oflendingin» "
dividual shortly afterward, and administered t
chastiéiement, which was, perhaps, not imdeé
serve .

However, he did not withdraw tram the can-
test. but entered into it harder than ever. ( f

This canvass was one of the most excifi'h ,
which ever took place in the West. G- ' -
gublic questions were involved, and He -

inghain worked as he had never toiled before. ,
Hugh Strakle did the same, and he was no in.
significant opponent. He was a good speaker
lavish with his money and promises, and he hadl
numerous friends, who could not have 
more faithfully. He frequently followed er.— .
benkin his speeches, and often undid all his
wor . r ‘

Bin ham felt grave doubts ofhisown ,
but w en the votes were counted, it wasfo '
that he had over a. thousand ma‘orlty. the
largest b far which the district 11 W S ‘
any can ’date. It was not natural for h ‘
be otherwise than exultant and highly pleased ,
over his success- and, when a few days after— "
ward, he met Stralde in the street, he was _
strongly tempted to ask him his 0 inion of the"
“ 1i ht which had risen in the baciwoods,”bnt ‘\
sue a course would have been unmanly,_a‘ndho.
ca‘s‘tttéhe thought astigedwith mid ‘ ‘r  

was a air, 3 u -up- Shrakle,’ '
“ and you beat me out and out. My , only deal:
ing is not for myself individually, but at the .
triumph of your cause. Its principles I‘ am- I
sure, will ruin our beloved country within five: '
years at furthest.” . _ «

The same characteristics which ve Hubert
Binghama reputation in his Sta legislature
brought him into notice among the greater:
minds of his coun . “There were ‘ in ‘
those da " inthe 118 of Congress, iii: who
fiatong t ose he soon made himself known and

e . ' '

On one occasion, near the close at the session,-
when a most exciting question was before Con»
gress, and the galleries were packed to  ,
tipn, Herbert arose in his seat. Almost  i-
diately everything was hushed—that 1 is,’
nearly as it can be in such a body—and uncon-
scmusly he raised his eyes to the arias. Am
he did so, he saw the gra headof, . Brandon,
who was leaning forwar , as if to catch
syllable he uttered, while, within ten test of”
him, each unconscious of the other’a p ‘
stood Hugh Strakle, equally intent upon W&
was to be said. 

The sight inspired him, and on that day out .
at that time he delivered the most '

papers is an unconscionable, 

 

 

   
    
    
   
   
    
  
 
 
  
  
   
 
   
   
   
    
  
  
  
  
  
 
    
   
  
    
    
    
     
    
    
    
  
    
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
   
    

a
s .

B

 

 
     

   

9

mt Settler’s s...

 

  

 , fined all bounds, Mr. . Brandon, forgetful of the

e and place, was seen to spring from his seat,
home. up his hands, and those nearest heard
him Shout:

“.THATs MY BOY! THAT’S MY BOY!
BLESS BIMI”

His actions were unnoticed except by a few

I who were in his immediate vicinity, and he Wes
hardly conscious of them himself. He waited
youtside for his friend, knowing that the pressure
around him w0uld be so great that it would be
* .impossilvle to get within reach of his hand. As
“ soon as Herbert caught a glimpse of the old man
he hastened to him, and drawing his arm with-
. . in his own, took him off to his own house.
. “You did well, Herbert; I think I may safely
.‘tell you that I felt proud of you; but don’t let
I our success turn your head; the more success-
ul. the more careful you must be.”

There was one who was as deeply interested
in the career of Herbert Bingham as was Mr.
Brandon, although that person never listened to
one of his efforts. It washis mother, who felt

- oil. the natural pride of a. mother’s heart in the
success Of her son. She followed him with her
,ptayers, and thanked God that the blandish-
‘ giants of triumph were not able to rob him of
, is truthfulness, temperance, and Christian
principle.
, » a When Herbert Bingham resigned his seatin
’ Congress, enumberof years later, it was to as—
sume the gubernatorial chair of his native State.
~ This was the ofice whichhe desired Ihore than
“any other, and the immense majority which

GOD

.w.

  

 

’ my in the highest degree.
 '.At the dinner given the Governor-elect by the
citizens of Riverton, at the conclusion of a. re-
, ply to a toast, Governor Bingham said:
“‘_ Whatever success, under the blessing of
, heaven, I have met with in public life is attri-
'“ hated to the instruction of two persons. The
furthest recollection to which memory can cer.
m 13 when I knelt at my mother’s knee, and
the prayer of childhood: the first lessons
hose which remain by a men through his life-
‘mmmme from her; and you who know what
noble mother still lives to bless and cheer me,
understand the holy nature of these teachings.
My youth and early manhood were spent under
' the guidance of’ my venerable friend on My
, right, to whom, more than any man on the
broad eerth, I owe a debt of gratitude, which
can never be paid. Lot any youth he persever—
511583 honest, conscientious, considerate, and de-
termined, and his course must ever be 0me
AND 17mm.”
 THE END.

 

\n

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56 LOVE-MAD. By Wm. M. Turner, M. D;
57 A BRAVE GIRL. By Alice Fleming.
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59 A WIDow's WILEs. yRachel Bernhardt.
60 CECIL’s D EIT. By Jennie Davis Burton.
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62 TIIE MANIAC BRIDE. yMnrgaret Blount.
63 THE CREOLE SIsTERe. By Anna E. Porter.
(M WEAT JEALODsY DID. By Alice Fleming. ,
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66 A BROTRER‘S SIN. By Rachel Bernhardt.
67 FORBIDDEN BANs. By Arabella Southworth. _ I
(’23 WEAVERs AND WENT. By Mrs. M. E. Braddon. .
(l9 CAMILLE. By Alexander Dumas.
70 THE Two ORPNANS. By D’Ennery.
71 MY YOUNG WIFE. Bfily Youn Wife’s Husband.

QQL‘UDCIGMH

72 THE Two Wmows. Annie omas.

73 Roar. MICHEL. / By nude Hilton.

74 CECIL CASTLEIIAINE‘R GAGE. By Ouida.

W THE BLACK LADY or DUNA. By J. S. Le Farm.
76 CHARLOTTE TEMPLE. By Mrs.rRowson.

77 CnRxsTIAN OAKLEY‘s MISTAKE. B Miss Mulock.
78 MY YOUNG HUSBAND. ‘By Mysel .
79 A QUEEN AMONGST WOMEN. By the author of
' “Dora Thom."

80 HER LORD AND MASTER. By Florenco Manyat.
81 LUCY TEMPLE.

82 A LONG TIME AGO., By Meta. Orred.

8‘3 PLAYING FOR HIOR.STAxEs.. By Annie Thomas
84 THE LAUREL Bosn. By Miss Mulock.

85 LED ASTRAY. By Octave Feuillet.

86 J ANET’S REPENTANCE. By George Eliot.

B7 ROMANCE or A POOR YOUNG MAN. By 0. Feuilletr
as A TERRIBLE DEED. BY Emma. G. Jones.

89 A GILDED SIN.

90 THE AvTEOR's DAUGRTER. By Mary Hewitt.

91 THE JILT. By Charles Reade. ‘

92 EILEEN ALANNA. By Dennis O‘Sullivan.

93 Love’s VICTORY. By B. L.’ Farjeon.

94 TEE QUIET HEART. By Mrs. Oli hunt.

‘95 LETIIOE ARNOLD. y rs. Mars . ,

96 HAUNTED HEARTs. B Rachel Earnhardt;

9? HUGE MELTON. By uthurine n

98 ALICE LEARNONT. By Miss Muloc . I

99 MARJORIE BvaE's LOVER. By Mary P3.ka

100 THROUGH FIRE AND WATER. By Fred. Talbot.

101 HANNAH. By Miss Mulock.

102 PEG WorrINoTON. By Charles Reade. ‘

me A DEspERATE DEED. By Erskine Boyd. v

104 firmware ON THE SNOW. By B. L. Fa eon.

106 THE GREAT HoooAm DIAMOND. y W

Thackeray. ‘
106 FRO! Drums To WAIIING. By E. Lynn Linton.
1m POOR ern. By F. W.‘ Robinson.

 
  
  
  
     
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
   

   
   

r 108 THE BAD Form:an or was REV. Aims BARTON.

George Eliot. ~
,D'CEEESE, n Insane. B B. [tile :1
w WI... r?

  
  

 

  

98 Wiflififil‘fltreetivNeRYcrk’;

1 B

IIG‘TED‘WAEDKRXNG Hum. 31’ .
111 Tut: Emma’s BET. ‘ B .E '
18 A Boner B 

B A. Southworth. I

113 PAUL AND VIRGINIA. From the French of Ber-
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114 ’TwAs IN 'l‘RArAmAR’s BAY. By Walter Besant
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115 THE MAID OE KILLEENA. By William Black.

116 HETTY. By Henry Ki sley.

117 THE WAYsIDE CROSS. y Capt. E. A. Milman.

118 THE VIOAR OE WAKEFIELD. By Oliver Goldsmith

119 MAUD MORAN. By Annie Thomas. ,

120 THADDEUS or WARSAW. By Miss Jane Porter.

121 THE KING OF NO-LAND. By'VB. L. Farjeon.

122 LOan THE WIDOWER. By .M. Thackeray.

123 AN ISLAND PEARL. By B. L. Farjeon.

124 COUSI‘N PHILLIS.

125 LEILA; or TEE SIEGE or GRENADA. By Edward
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126 WHEN THE SHIP Comes HOME. By Walter
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127 ONE or THE FAMILY. By James Payn.

128 THE BIRTHRIGIIT. By Mrs. Gore.

129 MOTHERLESS; or, The Farmer’s Sweetheart. By’
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130 HOMELESS; or. The Two Orphan Girls in New
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133 LORD Rorn’s SIN; or. Betrothed at the Cradle.
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137 THE VILLAGE ON THE CLIFF. By Miss Thackeray.
138 POOR VALERIA; or, The Broken Troth. By
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139 MARGARET GRAHAM. By G. P. R. James.
140 WITHOUT MERCY. By Bartley '1‘. Campbell.
141 HONOR BOUND. By Lillian Lovejoy. \
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143 ABDUCTED. By Rett Winwood.
144 A STRANGE MARRIAGE. By Lillian Lovejoy.
145 Two GIRLs’ LIVES. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell,
146 A DESPERATE VENTURE. By Arabella SOLIthworth
147 THE WAR or HEARTS. ByCorinne Cuslunen.
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41 PRETTY WEILRELIIINA and 60 other Songs. _
42 DANCING IN THE BARN and 63 other Songs. '

Sold everywhere by Newsdealers, at five cents

  

 

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131 SISTER AGAINST SISTER: or The Rivalry of

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18 PM THE BOY THAT‘S BOUND To BLAZE and 50' others. ‘

29 BLUE BONNETs OVER THE BORDER and 54 others, .

39 THE GIRL I LEFT BEI'IIND ME and 50 other,Songs.. g L i
40 "I'm EDT A LITTLE FADED EDOWEB andoo others. \

,43 H. M. S. PINAEORE,’ comm, and 17 otherspngs. ,

per copy. or sent postman”; address. on my f ' ’
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39 Flirtation; orY A Youn

\ World. By Alice Fleming.

’ _ . '44. The om

 tone
’ f 130“.

American Copyright Novels an

 

1 The Masked Bride; ,or, Will She Marry
. Him? By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.

21Va8 It Love? or, Collegians and Sweet-
hearts. B Wm. Mason Turner. M. D.

3 The Girl ire; or, The True and the False.
By Bartley T. Campbell. '

4 A Brave Heart: or, Starthngly Strange.
By Arabella Southworth.

5 Bessie Raynorythe \Vork 6111' or,
The Quicksands of Life. By William Mason

mer, M. . _ ,
RT 3 Srcret Marriage; or. A Duchess in
Sge- of Herself. By Sara Claxton. ,.
7 A aughtcr of Eve; or, Blinded by Love.
By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.

8 Heart to Heart; or, Fair Phyllls’ Love.

iy Arabella Southworth.

9 Alone in the “’orld; or, The Young Man’s
Ward. By the author of “Clifton,” “Pride
and Passion “ etc. _

10 A Pair 01 Gray Eyes' or, The Emerald
Necklace. By Rose Kennec y.

11 Entangled; or, A Dangerous Game. By.
Henrietta Thackeray.

12 His Lawful “’ifc; or, Myra, the Child of
Adoption. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.

13 Marion , the Little uakeresn; or, The
Naval adet’s Woom . y Corinne Lushman.

14 “’hy I Married lm; or. The Woman in
Gray. By Sara Claxton. \

15 A Fair Face; 01-, Out in the World. By
Bartley T. Campbell.

16 Trust l-Icr Not; or, A True Knight. By
Margaret Leicester.

17 A Loyal Lover ' or, The Last of the Grims-

Arabella Southworth. '

ths. B
18 is Ido ' or. The Ill-Starred Mania 8. B
Mrs. Mary Bead Crowell. g y

19 The Broken Betrothal; or, Love versus
toHarie. ByVMfiygracgflalpine. .
20 r ) mu 8 1e rant-re Gir '
1.5m Heir. By’Agile Penile." l ’ or, The
21 Nomvnnd Forever; or, Why Did She Mur-
r‘y Him? By Henrietta Thackeray. '
22 T 1e Bride of an Actor; or. Driven from
Home. By, the author of “Alone in the World,“

“Clifton, etc. ‘
23 Leap Year; or, Why She Proposed. By Sara
Clnxton.

24 1101' Face Was Her Fortune.

B Elen-
nor. Blaine. y

"25 Only a Schoolmistress; or. Her Untold

Secret. By Arabella Soutlm'orth.

26 “'ithout a Heart; 01'. Walking on the

‘ Brink. By Colonel Prentiss Ingmhnm.

27 Was She a Coquette .l or, A Strange
Courtship. By Henrietta. Thackeray.

28 S 'bil Chase; or, The Gambler’s Wife. By

. Ann S. Stephens.

'29 For Her Dear Sake' or, Saved ’ -
self. By Sara Clexton.‘ From Him '

30 The Bou not Girl - or, A Milli V
By Agile B‘enne. , on or money‘

31 A Mad Marria e' or, The Iron W .
Mary A. Denison.g , m By

32 M'aria‘na, the Prime Donna; or. Roses
and Lilies. By Arabella Southworth.

33 The Three Sisters; or. The Mystery of
Lord Chalfont. By Alice Fleming.

34 A Marriage of Convenience; or, Was

‘1 He 8. Count? By Sam Claxton.

35 All Against Her; or, The Winthrop Pride.
By Clara Augusta.

33 Sir Archer’s Bride; or, The Queen of His
Heart. By Arabella Southworth.- ‘ .

37 The Country Cousin; or, All is not Gold
that Glitters. By Rose Kennedy.

38 His 01v". A "in.
Arabella Soutgfiwonznor. Trust Her Not. By

By Jacob Abarbanell, (I? pfglrfawd Name.
40 Pledgcd to lllnrr ' a
By $13913an. Y; in”, In Love 9 Bonds.
.1 1 Blind Devotion ~ on Love Against the
42 Beatrice the Beautiinl' o '
'Love. By? Arabella. Southworlh. n ma second
43 The Baronet’s Secret ‘ or The R: .
Sisters. By Sam Claxton.’ ’ val Hall
Daughter ' or, Brother al
Lover. y Alice Flemini’z. ag m“
45 Her Hidden Foe; 01', Love At All Odds,
By Arabella Southworth. _
46 The Little Heiress; or, Under a. Cloud.
» By Mrs. Mary A. Denison.
_ 47 Because She Loved Him; or, How Will
It End? By AliceF’loming. ,
48 In Spite of Herself; or. Jeannette’s Repa-
ration. By S. R. Sherwood.
'49 His Honfi’a'Mintresa or Love at First
. s ht. By Arabella Sonthérorth

Cuban ohm or The Prisoner of
Vlnh‘esse.. gy Km; lénry'A. Deniaon,

   

 

/

 

51 Tu’o Young Girls; or, The Bride or an
Earl. By Alice Fleming.

52 The “'inged NIessengcr; or, Risking All
for a Heart. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.

53 Agnes Hope, the Actress; or. The Ro-
mance of 11. Ruby Ring. By William Mason
Turner, M. _D.'

54 One “'oman’s Heart; or. Saved from the
Street. By George S. Kuiuie.

55 She Did. Not Love Him; or, Stoopingto~

Conquer. By Arabella Southworth.

56 Love-Mad; or, Betrothed. Married Divorced

‘ an —— y Wm. Mason Turner, M. D

57 A Brave Girl; or, Sunshine at Last. By
Alice Fleming.

58 The Eben Mask; or, The Mysterious

‘ Guardian. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.

59 A Widow’s “files; or, ABitter Vengeance.
By Rachel Bernhardt. .

60 Cecil’s Deceit; or. The Diamond Legacy.
By Mrs. Jennie Davis Burton.

61 A “'icked Heart; or, The False and the
True. By Sara Claxton.

62 The Maniac Bride; or, The Dead Secret
of Hollow Ash Hall. By Margaret Blount.

63 The Creole Sisters; or. The Mystery of the
Perrys. By Mrs. Anna E. Porter.

64 “"hat Jealousy Bid; or, The Heir of
Worsley Grange. By Alice Fleming.

65 The ‘Vife’fi Secret; or, ‘Twixt Cup and
Lip. By (.‘01. Juan Lewis.

66 A Brother’s Sin‘ or Flora‘s F0 'veuess.
By Rachel Bernhardt. ’ rg1

67 Forbidden Bans; or. Aima's Disguised
Prince. By Arabella. Southworth.

68 “leavers and “Ion; or. “Love That Hath
Us In His Net." By Miss M. E. Braddon.

69 Camille; or, The Fate ol.’ 9. Coquette.
Alexandre Dumas. ‘

70 The Two Orphans. By D’Enery.

71  Young \Vife. By My Young Wife’s

usbnnd.

72 The Two Widows. By Annie Thomas.

73 Rose Michel; or, The Trials of a Factory
Girl. By Maud Hilton.

74 Cecil Castlemaine’s Gawe' or, The Story
of o. Broidered Shield. By (Yul n.

75 The Black Lady of Dunn.
Fanu. ’

76 Charlotte Temple. By Mrs. Rowson.

77 Christian Oaklei’s Mistake. By the

‘ author of “ John Ha ‘fex, Gentleman," etc.

78 My Young Husband;
the Family. By Myself.

79 A ueon Amongst Women. Bg the
ant or of “The Cost of Her Love “ “ ilded
Sin," “Dom Thorne,” “From Gloom to Sun-
light,” etc.

80 Her Lord and Master.
Marryat.

81 LucyTemplc, Sister of Charlotte.

82 A Long Tilne Ago. By Meta Orred.

83 Playing for High Stakes. By Annie
Thomas.

84‘~ The Laurel Bushn By the author of
“John Halifax, Gentlemen.”

85 Led Astray. By Octal/Ne Feulllet.

86 Janet’s Repentance. By George Eliot.

87 The Romance ofu P00r Young Man.
By Octave Feuillet. ~

88 A Terrible Deed; 0r, All for Gold. By
Emma. Garrison Jones.

89 A Gilded Sin. By the author of “Dora
Thorn.” etc. v

90 The Author’s Daughter. By Mary
Howitt.

By

By J. S.Le

or, A Confusion in

By Florence

91 The Jilt. By Charles Reade.

92 Eileen Alanna; or, the Dawning of the Day.
By Dennis O’Sullivan.

93 Love’s -‘ "ctory. By B‘ L. Farjeon.
94 The am 't Heart. By Mrs. Qliphant.
95 Lettlce A uold. By Mrs. Marsh.

96 Haunted illeartr or. The Broken Be-
trothul. B Rachel emhnrdt.

97.Hugh Mel ron. By Katharine King.
98 Alice Learmont. ByMissMulock.

99 Mlu-jorie Bruce’s Lovers. By Mary
Patrick. ' . '
100 Through l‘lre and. Water. By Fred-
. _erlck Talbot. ._
101 Hannah. ByMierulock. _ . ‘ ‘ .

102 Peg Wofllngtonu ,By 

103 A papa-mo wood. nymmm. , '

  

d the cream of Foreign Novelists, Unabridged, FOR FIVE GENTS! 
The Cheapest Library Ever Published! ' ’ .

 

      

        
   
  
    
    
    
    
   
   
         
 
  
  
     
    
    
 
  
   
   
    
    
  
   
   
  
  
 
   
    
   
 
  
    
  
   
     
    
  

 

104 Shadows on. the Snow. By B. L. Far-' '

jean. :

The Great Hoggarty Diamond. By
W. M. Thackeray. ~ ' .
By II.

From Dreams to Waking. ‘
By F.  Robinson. v I ‘2‘

Lynn Linton.
The Sad Fortunes ofthc new. Amos

105
106

107
108

Poor Zoph!

Barton. By George Eliot. - > g .
109 Bread-auii-xChcese an’d’Kisoes. By
B. L. Farjeon. ' r _ i
110 The; \Vaudering Heir. By Chm-lei
m e. ‘ - , r ; .
.111 The Brother’s Bet; or. Within. Six ‘

Weeks By Emilie Flygare Corlen. I

I 12 A Ilero. By Miss Mulock. J

113 Paul and Vir-rinia. From the French of '
Behiardin De St. Fierre.

By We]. , 

114 ’Twas In Tral‘algar’s Bay.
ter Besant & James Rice.

115 The Maid of Killeena. B W‘ '
Black. y 

l 16 liotty. By Henry Kingsley. V - I

117 The ‘Wayside Cross or. The Raid 0:; 
Gomez. By Captain E. A. an.” *

11? The Vicar of “’akefleld. By 01m:-
Goldsmith. ' ‘ I

l 19 Maud Mohan. By Annie Thomas. v _
120 Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Miss‘Jane.
Porter. ‘ I I . _.
121 girlie King of No—Land. By B.L. Fan, -
‘ eon. . v ,V _. 
122 Love], the Widower. By W. M. Thack-
eray. ' . :

123 An Island Pearl. By B. L. Farjeon.
124 Cousin Phillis. _
125 Leila; or. The Siege of Grenada.
ward BulWer (Lord Lytton). _
128 When the Ski Comes Home. By , ‘
Walter Besant and ames Rice. ‘
127 One of the Family. By James Payn. - .‘ .
128 The Birthrlght. By Mrs. Gore._ “q
129 Motherless; or, The Farmer's Sweetheart.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. ' _
130 Homeless; or, Two Orphan Girls in New ._
‘ York. By Albert W. Aiken. » v ' -  r
131 Sister against Siotcr' or The Rivalry
Hearts. By Mrs. Mary  drowell. ‘ I
132 Sold for Gold; or. Almost Lost.  I.
M. V. Victor. , ,

By Ed

133 Lord Roth’s Sin or. Blamed at the ’
Cradle. By Mrs. Georg‘danaDiokens. ‘. I...

134 big? He Love Her? By Bmky‘vnmj .

1 3 5 Sinned Against; or, Almost in His Power.
By Lillian Lovejoy. \ ~ . i
136 Was She His Wife? By Mrs. Mary Reed
Crowell. ' k '
137 The Village on the Glifl‘. By Min;
Thackeray.
138 Poor Valeria!
By Margaret Blount. , . ' ,
139 Margaret Graham. By G. P. R Joules.
140 Without Mercy. BmeleyTCameell.
141 fionor Bound; or, Sealed to Secrecy. By

lian Lovejoy. . ‘7
142 Fleeing trom Love. By'lllrs. Harriet
Irving. - .

or. The Broken  

143 Abducted; or. A Wicked Womm's'Woih. ‘
By Rett Winwood. - _ ' .

144 A Stran 9 Marriage' or John Eastern
Heiress. lgy Lillian Lovejo’y. ' ', .

145 Two Glrl’s Lives. ByMrs. mm:
Crowell. \

146 A Desperate Venturofghor, For Invo‘i
Own Sake. By Arabella Sou worth. ’ ‘

147 The War of Hearts. ByOonnnedlieho

   
  

 

        
    

man. ,
148 Which Was the Woman @ maniacal! '
. Misjudg . . .

  

By Sara. Claxton.
Rm

    
   
 

149 An Ambitious and; or,
AnActress. By Frances olen you it.
~ ; amuse

Anewlmaeebm'wml

 
  

 
 

 
     
   
   
 
     
 
  

      
 
 

dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on  wk.
eeipt or six cents each.‘ I ‘ _ .

Br:an Ammonium
j W William

  

      
  

  
     

 

FICTION!

 

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A New Library Expressly llesigned for “flur Boys”

WHO LOVE

True Stories of Stirring Lives!

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1 Adventures of Bufi‘alo Bill. Prom Boyhood to Man-
hood. Deeds of Daring, and Romantic Incidents in the early
life of William F. Cody. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

2 The Ocean Hunters; or, The Chase of the Leviathan. A
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3 Adventures of Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. Remarkable
career of J. B. Hikok, (known to the world as “Wild Bill”), giving
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The Prairie Ranch; or, The Young Cattle Herders. By J 0s.
E. Badger, Jr.

Texas Jack. the Mustang King. Thrilling Adventures in
the Life of J. B. Omohundro, “ Texas Jack.” By Col. P. Ingraham.
Cruise of the Plyaway; or, Yankee Boys in Ceylon. By C.
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Roving Joe: The History of a Young “ Border Ruffian.” Brief
Scenes from theLife of Joseph E. Badger, Jr. By A. H. Post.
The Plyaway Afloat; or, Yankee Boys ’Round the World.
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Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly Adams’ Boy Pard. Scenes
of Wild Adventure in the Life of the Boy Ranger of the Rocky
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10 The Snow Trail; or, The Boy Hunters of Fur-Land. A Narra-
tive of Sport and Life around Lake Winnipeg. By T. C. Harbaugh.

1 1 Old Grizzly Adams, the Bear Tamer; or, The Monarch of
the Mountain. By Dr. Frank Powell. _

12 Woods and Waters; or, The Exploits of the Littleton Gun
Club. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

13 A Rolling Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sea and Land as
Boy and Man, of Col. Prentiss Ingraham. By Prof.Wm. R. Eyster.

l4 Adrifi on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunters on the
Bufi'alo Range. By 011 Coomes.

15 Kit Carson, King- of Guides; or, Mountain Paths and

. Prairie Trails. By Albert ,W. Aiken.

16 Red River. Rovers ; or, Life and Adventures in the Northwest.
By C. Dunning Clark.

1'7 Plaza and Plain: or, Wild Adventures of “Buckskin Sam,”
(Major Sam S. Hall.) By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

18 Rifle and Revolver; or, The Littleton Gun Club on the
Buflalo Range. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

19 Wide-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer; or, Life in 8. Log
Cabin. Incidents and Adventures in the Backwoods. By Ed. Willett.

20 The Dashing Dragoon: or, The Story of General George A.
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21 Deadwood Dick as a Boy; or, Why Wild Ned Harris, the New
England Farm—lad, became the Western Prince of the Road. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

22 The Boy Exiles of Siberia: or, The Watch-Dog of Russia.
By T. C. Harbaugh.

 

28 Paul De Lacy, the French Beast Charmer; or, New

York Boys in the J ungles. A Story of Adventure, Peril and Sport

in Africa. By C. Dunning Clark.

24 The Sword Prince: The Romantic Life of Colonel Monstery,

‘ (American Champion-at-arms.) By Captain Fred. Whittaker.

25 Round the Camp Fire ; or, Snow-Bound at “Freeze-out Camp.”
A Tale of Roving Joe and his Hunter Pards. By J os. E. Badger, Jr.

26 Snow-Shoe Tom; or, New York Boys in the Wilderness. A.
Narrative of Sport and ‘Peril in Maine. By T. C. Harbaugh. I

2'? Yellow Hair, the Boy Chief of the Pawnees. The Ad-
venturous Career of Eddie Burgess of Nebraska. By Col. Ingraham.

28 The Chase of the Great White Stag and Camp and
Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark.

29 The Fortune-Hunter; or, Roving Joe as Miner, Cow—Boy,
Trapper and Hunter. By A. H. Post.

30 Walt Ferguson’s Cruise. A Tale of the Antarctic Sea. By
C. Dunning Clark. _

31 The Boy Crusader; or, How a Page and. a Fool Saved a King.
By Captain Frederick Whittaker. .

32 White Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief: or, The Ro-

mantic and Adventurous Life of Dr. D. Frank Pawell, known on the

Border as “ Fancy Frank,” “ Iron Face,” etc. By Col. P. Ingraham.

Captain Ralph, the Young Explorer; or, The Centipede

Among the Flees. By C. Dunning Clark.

The Young Bear Hunters. A Story of the Haps and Misheps

of a Party of Boys in the Wilds of Northern Michigan. By Morris

Redwing.

The Lost Boy Whalers ; or, In the Shadow of the North Pole.

By T. C. Harbaugh.

Smart Sim, the Lad with a Level Head; or, Two Boys

who were “Bounced.” By Edward Willett.

01d Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums; or, The Monsters

of the Esquimaux Border. By Roger Starbuck. -

The Settler’s Son; or, Adventures in Wilderness and Clear-

ing. By Edward S. Ellis.

Night-Hawk George, and His Daring Deeds and Adventures

in the Wilds of the South and West. By 001. Prentiss Ingraham

The Ice Elephant; or, The Castaways of the Lone Coast. By

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The Pampas Hunters; or, New York Boys in Buenos Ayres.

By T. C. Harbaugh.

The Boy Whaler; or, The Struggles of a. Young Sailor Boy.

By C. Dunning Clark. Ready September 27th.

A New Issue Every Week.

BEADLE’S BOY’S LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents
per copy, or sent by mail. on receipt of six cents each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
98 William Street, New York.

34
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