pr a rk Starv’s

erica

THE VALLEY scour.

FRANK STARR & (CO. 41 PLATT STREET, NEW YORK.
Am. News Oo.. 119 & 121 Nassaa Ste, as Y.

ti v i ~ Sew

 

 

 
A Queer Character!

That racy and inimitable “yarn-spinner,”’ Ralph Ringwood, has at
length ** spun a yarn " which will make one of the volumes of that racy
and inimitable series,

Frank Starr’s American Novels,

—a series as full of LIVE Books as “ Poor Richard’s”’ head was full of w
saws. Each new issue is but a new surprise. That's what’s the m,
with the great run the books are now having. Mr. I. B. Sleepyhe
Miss Matilda Sniffles don’t write for the series.

Look out for the Star Novegt, No. 57,

THE BLACK DWA

OR.

“iger -'T'ail, the Sem ilro

A STORY OF THE EVERGLADES.

BY RALPH RINGWOOD.

—to issue Tuesday, January 24th—and you will find in it just what migh
be expected from Ringwood—a very queer and lively story, in which the
Dwarf is but one of a half-dozen whites, reds and blacks who make the
everglades ring with the crack of their rifles as well as the crack of their
jokes and joints in ‘legging it”? through the jungles.

Tiger Tail, the well known Seminole chief, who gave Old Jacksop 80
much trouble, plays the part of warrior and lover of a white maiden—who,
to save her friends from massacre, consents—well, no matter what. See
the book, and enjoy a rousing good thing!

2" For sale by all Newsdealers and Booksellers; or sent, post-paid, to
any address, on receipt of price—Ln CunTs.

FRANK STARR & CO.,, Publishers,

41 Platt Street, New York,

 
 
 
VALLEY SCOUT;

: : STIRRING INDIAN TALE.

BY SEELIN ROBINS.

NEW YORK

FRANK STARR & CO., PUBLISH ER
AL Platt ‘Street.

 
°

Entered according to Act of Congress, im the year 1870, by
FRANK STARR & CO., .
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

 
THE VALLEY Soour.

CHAPTER I.

WHAT AN OLD GENTLENAN ENCOUNTERED IN TUE “Woops.

“Get out! get out! hangnation! let go, I tell you,
or Ili smash you!”
Josiah Bowles sprang several feet in air and

danced frantically, while-the copperhead serpent.
(Trigonvcephalus. contortriz,) which had fastened his —

fangs inextricably in his boot-leg, flapped around like
awhip-lash. Josiah was sixty-one and a half years
old, and had done a great deal of dancing at the appie-
pearings and parties, ‘but. never had his legs beat the
tattoo that they now did, and the way that flat-headed —

coppery-hued reptile hung to hisanklewas extraordi-

‘nary. Josiah kicked hard enough to snap the thing
—asunder, and when he paused from sheer exhaustion _
there it still clung!

The old gentleman now yentur a to take a look at ee

it, and immediately saw that it had not loosened its
hold, for the very { cood reason that it was unable to do

80. "When in walking earefully through the bushes ;
he had stepped upon a coiled up pulpy) mass, the dis- —
_ tressed snake had struck his head out with the quick--

ess of lightning and buried his fangs in his boot-leg,
hese that wey could not be extracted. |

t

 
THE VALLEY scouT,

Felly satisfied that the reptile was entrapped and
coud inflict no injury, Josiah bad time to deliberate
onthe proper method of disposing of him. It.did
not take long to determine this. A large flat stone
lay invitingly near, and the squirming “ varmint” was
dragged upon this, by his own fangs, when the heavy
boot-heel of the opposite foot, speedily crushed out
his life and shape.

“There, concarn you! I guess you won't go and

stick your teeth in another man's boot!’ was the ex-
clamation of the old gentleman, as be surveyed the
~Shapeless mass. ‘‘O jingo! I wonder if he bit me!
I do believe 1 feel a pain!”

And startled almost out of his senses, Bowles
slung his richt foot under his left knee, and began
tugging at his boot in his desperate endeavor to pall
it off; but in his tramping this day he had stepped
over considerable sw ampy ground, and his cowhides,
as a natural consequence, were pretty thoroughly soak-
ed—so much so indeed that his boot stuck as if it
were a part of the foot itself, despite his furious et-
forts to move it.

Bowles shut his eyes, compressed his lips, held his
breath until he grew black in the face, grunted, tugged
sweated, rested and started anew, but all in yain—for
the boot seemed to be held in its place more tightly
than ever, and he slammed his foot down spitefully
upon the ground. :

© O jingo! Ive been bit by that blasted varmint !’’%
wailed Bowles ; “my leg is swelling and will soon
burst.”

Then as visions of his strong-minded wife came into

his mind, he added,

Eee Won' t Cynthia ‘feel bad when she hears this? It

was her fault too; as soon as she found that brindle

cow was missing, she must vo and pack me off, hel- ¢

_ ter skelter on the switch- tailed mare after her, anid

here I've got bit by an infernal copperhead! Look
that boot at nea to bur st popens a

wo

 
THE VALLEY Scout. ae

As he addressed these words principally to him-
self, he obeyed them, and stared at his foot with a
woful look, that would have excited pity in the breast
of a savage.

« Just ready to crack open! There’s two or three
ways a feller has a chance of saving himself when he
gets bit by one of them varmints. There’s the pilot
weed that allers grows near the snake that will cure
his bite ; but Tve dr agyed this reptile so far, I dont
know where to look for that. Then I recollect when
I was a boy and got bit by one of ’em, the old man
dug a hole in the ground and put mein up to my chin,
and kept me there till I came out all right; but,” he
added as he looked around, ‘‘ this is all swamp ‘land,
and J havn't got anything to dig a hole with, nor any
one to dig it for me—so that ‘ere can’t be did. The
other method,” and here the old gentleman’s eyes
sparkled, ‘is to fill yourself chuck full of whiskey !
Jingo! that’s the method for me, but then I hain’t got .
the whiskey, and before I get home [ll be a goner.”

Josiah Bowles was about sinking in the lowest
depths of despair, when he made a more critical ex-
amination of his boot. To his unspeakable relief he
found the fangs had barely penetrated the leather

without touching his skin.

“What ‘a fool I am!” was his reflection, as he
grinned over the discovery. ‘‘ It’s lucky 1 didn’t get
my boot off, for I would never have got it on again ;
but hello! this ain’t finding the brindle. cow, and ‘Cyn-
thia will raise a high old time if I go back without
her. =

The previous evening, when the three cows belong-
ing to Josiah Bowles came home, the brindle was
missing, and the wrathful old lady who so spitefully
jitked the udders of the kine in her efforts to make
them yield their lacteal richness, insisted that her hus-
band should ¢o at once in search of them; but he
pleaded his rheamatiz, and the lateness of the hour jand
she consented to wait until morning.

 
bd THE VALLEY scout,

At the earliest streak of day, therefore, Josiah
swallowed afew mouthfulls of food, and mounting
his switch-tailed mare, star ted over the mountain trom
Welsburg, in Cherry Valley, in quest of his lost cow.
This was not the first time this troublesome quadru-
ped had turned up missing and compelled a tedious
hunt before she could be found, She secmed to have
a special leaning toward a large marshy swamp,
where she had been found on several occasions. Ae-
cordingly, Mr. Bowles headed his animal towards this
particular section, and reaching the edgo of the
swamp he fastened his horse to the limb of a tree 2
and pursued the search on foot.

The comet-like habits of the cow had caused the
owner to place a bell upon her neck, and when he
entered the swamp the faint twinkle led him on, ignis
fatuis like, nntil he found himself in the most mivy
and spongy portion of this useless part of creation.
Here, while toiling forward in pursuit of the vauish-
ing twink! e of the bell, he met with the rather start-
ling adventure with Ww hich we opened our story TTay-
ing fully recovered from his fright and mental pertur-
bation, he now resumed his hunt.

“Tt beats all nature how that old cow can travel,”
was the muttered exclamation of Bowles, as iis foot
went down to his knee in a hole, and he was thrown
forward on his hands and knees. “ive heard the
tinkle of that bell for half an hour, and I don’t seer
any nigher to it than I was when I first came into
this infarnal old sw: amp.”

Still the old gentleman pressed forward, not da ning
and not wishing to show his face in W allsbure with-
out the brindle cow.

“TIL hunt for her till I find her, if it takes me sey-
-enteen weeks,” was his resolve, no ways dismayed by
the discouragements and obstacles which he constant-
Pe ely encountered. “T put that bell onsthe critters neck
lust spring, and it must be her that’s a jingling

 
“THE VALLEY Scour.

He paused abruptly. for a startling suspicion had
taken possession of his mind. Something i in the sound
of the bell, which at that instant struck upon his ear,
arrested his attention, and he paused, almost ovetr-
coine at the thoucht.

“Can't be possible? Jingonation: we have been
expecting the Muohawks—”

Be it remembered, this was the year of grace, 1777,
and the piace was Cherry Vailey, and the event dread
of the inhabitants thereof was of an invasion from te
Tories, with their merciless allies the Six Nations. It
was while Bowles was pressing eagerly forward in his
search for the cow that the peculiarity in the tink-a-

lank of the bell struck his ear, and a suspicion at once
struck him that instead of being suspended from the
neck of his cow, it was dangling in the hands of an
Indian. He paused a moment until he had regained
his coolness and presence of mind, a feat which re-
quired buta very few moments. —

“Tve hunted Mohaws betore. and they never got
the upper hand of me, and I don’t intend that they
shall do so in my old age. Cynthia wouldn't like it,
and I would be ashamed to meet her again, if it
should have to be without my skalp.”

Rarely was the thought of his better half absent
from his mind, and had he been within accessible dis-
tance, he would most certainly have consulted her,
before engaging in the perilous enterprise which he

now resolved to undertake.

Ile made a careful examination of his rifle. It

—eontained one charge, which was all in his possession.
Hie had brought his gun with him more from habit
‘than any thing else, leaving his powder horn and bul-
let pouch at ‘home, not dreaming that in his brief

hunt for his property, an occasion Y would rise for his
using it.

‘It won't do to throw that shot away!” he reflect-
ed, ‘for it is the only one I’ve got, and I ae tthink -

 
14 THE VALLEY scour.

 vhe redskins will wait for me to run home and git
another.”

Ile took the liberty of smiling at his own humor,
after which he inclined his head. if possible to deter-
mine the precise direction and distance of the bell.

“Tt lies off here,” he added, ‘that old seamp knows
some one will be hunting for that cow and he'll rattle
her bell all day, if a feller don't come before, but a
feller is coing to come before.”

Trailing his ritle he began stealing through the
wood, taking as much. care with his steps, as if he
were hoping to get a shot at an antelope. He had
progressed but a few hundred yards, when he paused
with surprise and indignation—for there cold and life-
less lay the br ndle cow, slain by the murderous hand
_ of the Indian who had taken the bell from her neck,

and was endeavoring to decoy her owner to his des-.
traction.

Josiah Bowles contemplated her a few moments in
-silenee, and then said,

“That ’ere piece of inhumanity settles the fate of
that owdacious redskin. I might have been disposed
to show a little mercy, but when this ’ere bullet goes
out of this ere gun, it is to go into the body of that
vere Mohawk.”

The way the old gentleman compressed his lips and

knit his brows showed that he was deeply in earnest,

and that when he and the Indian came in collision,

one or both of them would be seriously hurt.
“Jingonation! won’t Cynthia scold some when she

finds that out? Cynthia has a tongue if she is a fe-
male, and when she gets her dander up, there’s no use

of trying to stop her! Wouldn’t she yank that In-

dian ’round if she had hold of him. I wouldn't want

to be in his place.” oe
With only one charge in his trusty rifle, Josiah

_ Bowles would have preferred to face a couple of Ira-
. quois Indians in all the paraphranalia of war-paint,
_ dress and tomahawk, than to encounter his better-

soe

bce enh age

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT. 15

half when in one of her tantrum moods. It was —
terrific.

After carefully listening for a few moments, Bowles
succeeded in locating the bell, about two hundred
yards distant, which would bring him out of the
swamp where the wood was open and clear Pressing
forward in the same deliberate and cautious manner,
hesoon emerged from the marshy land, and found
himself in close proximity to the tintinabulation.

Peering stealthily through the. wood, he was not
long indeserying an indian stepping carefully throue!
the trees, holding the cow bell in his right ha d,
while he slowly shook it from side to side. and turuc.
his head carefully around to gain the first glimpse ot
the wrathful farmer in search of his cow.

“My rifle is good for that distance,’ muttered —

Bowles, as he carefully drew the hammer back, ** and
if that’s your game, I understand what's to be done.”

The long gleaming rifle barrel which Josiah Bowles
drew to his shoulder and glanced along, had done the
same duty before. It had brought down the deer
when dashing through the wood, and had sent its fa-

tal messenger crashing through the skull of the black
bear when driven at b: ay, and had sent more than one
red Indian to his eternal hunting grounds, when upon,
the war path; and now as the old man drew his uner-
ring bead, he found that his nerves had no lost their
steadiness.

A moment it pointed like the finger of fate, and the
next moment the sharp ‘rack broke the stillness and —
the Mohawk with a piercing screech, threw up his
arms and fell dead in his tracics still holding the bell
--in his rigid grasp. The hunter rushed forward confi-
dent that his work was well done. A feeling akin to.
- pity ran through his heart, as -he gazed upoh the life= © 2
se less form of his enemy.

-. It is a fearful thing to take a human life, even
ee thouch it be done under circumstances as jeu be 4 as *
z the present ;

 
16 THE VALLEY SCOUT.

“JT can’t say that I coveted your life,” mused
Bowles, “but you did mine, and I've got a dozen or
so children and grand children, besides my four sons
in the continental army, fighting for their country un-
der General Washington, and it is just such persons
as you that are making all the trouble.”

He stooped over thet fallen savage and lifted the bell
from his iron-like fingers, and looked at it a moment.

s-Youu ate-an agony s set of people, and you have
many cunning sharp tricks, but when you undertake
to tinkle a cow bell, you on noe to do it as the cow her-
self oes, and not asa you...ster would; that reminds
me that there may be more of your people about.” -

The latter thonght was quite a startling one, and oc-
-easioned our friend no little uneasiness, especii ally
when he recalled the state of his aminunition sup-
plies.

«The gun is empty, and I haven't enouczh powder
to make a flash in the pan, and the best thing I can
do is to get home, for I know Cynthia is beginning to
get peicat

The latter contingeney was enough to add wings to
the feet of the devoted husband; “but befor e setting
out on his return, prudenee dictated that he should
make somewhat of a reconnoisance of the wood and
surrounding country, Asa rule, whenever you find a
red man, it is safe to suspect there are more, and Jo-
siah Bowles had a tolerably strong conviction that a
careful search of the swamp and forest would reveal a
party of Mohawks; and such being the case, it was
more than likely that they had designs upon VW ells-
burg which just then was in the worst Peondition possi -
ble te receive such a visit.

The old man made a circuit of several hundred
yards, frequently pausing and listening, with all the
skill and deliberation of a life-iong scout of the
woods. Ilis eyes and ears.had not lost their ennning,
‘and it was almost impossible that a party could have

i

 
THE VALLEY SCovT. 1%

been anywhere in the vicinity without making them-
selves known to him.

The result of his reconnoisance was quite a pleasure
to Bowles. Tle came to the conclusion that the red-
skin whom he had slain was some wandering hunter,
who having made his way down to these parts, had
accidentally come upon the cow, when the dark de-
sign entered his head, whith had Been so happily frus-
trated through the shortsightedness of the principal
actor. Consequently there was no cause for serious
alarm. *

“Til hurry home to Cynthia, cause it ain't fur off
_ dinner time, and she always gets out of patience wher
she has to wait for me. It ain't likely there are any

more redskins in the neighborhood.”

But Mr. Josiah Bowles was wonderfully mistaken,
as he was to learn right speedily, and in rather a start-
ling manner.

 
THE VALLEY scour.

CITAPTER IT.
A REMARKABLE ADVENTURE,

Mr. Josiah Bowles having disposed of the Indian,
and having pretty thoroughly reconnoitered the
swamp, started on his return home, still using caution
in his movements, for it was arule with the old man
which he had made years before, that when you don’t
expect an Indian. it is then that he is pretty certain to
“appear.

He had progressed several hundred yards in this,
when, as he was looking for his horse, he suddenly
discovered a savage about a hundred yards ahead.
They both detected each other at the same moment,
aud simultaneously sprang to cover.

Fortunately Bowles was within a few feet of an
_ enormous beech, whose trunk was suflicient to shelter
ahalf dozen such men as he, whose development was
principally in a longitudinal direction, and conseqnent-
y so long as he could keep this comfortable shield be-
tween him and his enemy, there was little danger of
receiving any bodily harm.
_ The Iroquois took shelter behind a tree of just suf-
ficient size to screen his person, and there the two
races found themselves at bay.
- “This is an infarnal position for me to be in,” mut-
tered the old gentleman with an expression of the
st unmitigated disgust. ‘ Here I’ve got a gun that
ean bark a squirrel with, a hundred yards off, and
ow when there’s a bloody minded Mohawk that
yants peppering, [ haven't got a thimblefull of pow-

 
THE WALLEY s8COUT,

der. When I get back hum I'll tell Cynthia what an
old fool Lam, and I hope she'll give me the tallest
kind of a blowing.up.”

Bowles knew it was superfluous for him to enter-
tain any such hope, for the ‘blowing up” would come
as a matter of course; but then it is so pleasant not to
be disappointed.

The truth of it was the old gentleman was in ra-
ther a perilous situation, as what man wonld not be
when brought face to face with a thoroughly armed
Indian, while he himself was weaponless.

“There’s only one thing in my favor—the skunk
doesn’t know that my gun isn’t loaded, and may bel
ean keep him skart as much as if it was.”

The two stood at bay for perhaps five minutes, when
Bowles with the greatest caution peered out from be-
hind the tree, but his head was drawn back again with
the quickness of lightning, as he caught the-glance of
the deadly rifle barrel. It was well he did so, for
another seeond and his skull would have been perfo-
rated and his earthly trials ended.

The old man now managed to display his gun-
barrel, which had quite a happy effect, as the Iroquois
hugged the tree as if it were his dearest brother.
Bowles indulged in a quiet but enormous grin,

“The first Injin I ever seen skeart by an empty gun
barrel, and I rather reckon he wouldnt have been
much skeart if he had only knowed it. If Ionly had
one charge, I'd skear him more yet—but hang it!
what's the use, [ hain’t got it, and the best thing I can
do is to get out of this place as soon as possible, if
not sooner. :

As a matter of course, both of the opponents weré
extremely cautious in their actions. If a gun were
discharged without fatal effect, the one discharging it.
was instantly placed at the mercy of the other. This —
the Indian fully understood, and there was no danger
of his firing his gun, until absolutely certain that a re-
pelition was unnecessary.

 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
   
  
 

THE VALLEY scout.

_ Aji Indian or a white hunter in their numerons
years of hunting and scouting in the forest, aeqnires
the virtue of patience to a degree, which equals that
of the Esquimanx, who will sit hour after hour, with-
out stirring a simb, waiting for the expected seal. It
is said by “the author of the ‘Young Pioneer” that

¢ Simon Kenton and Daniel Boone once met on the op-
 iposite side of a river, and manouvered and reeonnoiter-
ed from suprise until srnset before they discovered or
suspected that they were friends and not enemies.

_ So were there nothing to draw Bowles away, he
_ wonld have maintained his position behind the tree
until the darkness of night, waiting and watching
with the intensity of purpose, which would have detect
ed and taken advantage ofa second’s remissness upon .
the part of the Indian, and content and patient until
that moment should come.

It would be hard to imagine a situation more un-
comfortable, not to.say perilous than that of Josiah
Bowles. It looked yery much as ifhe were doomed
to remain in his present quarters until nightfall, when

“no doubt, a hand to band encounter, would be the next

_ thing between him and the agile Iroquois Indian.

Twenty years before, he would rather haye sought than
~ ayoided suchathing; but now with the weight of sixty
odd years bearing him down, and his ** rheumaties” in
every limb, and with nothing except his pocket knife
in the way of defence, it cannot be wondered at that
he should prefer to withdr aw.

At this point itis proper that reference should bo
made to a haunting fear, which troubled the old man
more than anything else. Reference has been mado
0 the rather vigorous temper of Mrs. Cynthia Bowles.
She had given positive instructions to her liege lord to
eturn immediately with the brindled cow, or she would
be “after him.’ There had already been a great de-
lay, aud Josiah would not have been surprised at any
moment, had he. heard ae shrill voice of as wile 5 sing-

 

 

  

 

  
    
 

t
|
i
|

in the rear of Bowles sloping off toward the swamp at

 

ee began his retrograde movement.

     
  
 
     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

THE VALLEY scout. O4—%

form, eet wrathfully forward in quest of both the
cow and himself

Such a contingency would complicate matters and
render them unpleasant.

Bowles therefore looked anxiously about him a see
whether there was no possible means by which he
could extricate himself without coming in collision
with the bullet ofhisenemy. Finally he hitt upon the
only plan which offered—highly dangerous, bat one
which he was willing to undertake. a

Lhe gigantic beech behind which he had sheltered
himself, stood upon a sort of swell of land, the ground

a gentle declension. [lis scheme was to crawl away
from the tree, going backwards after the fashion of a
crab, until out ofthe Iroquois field of vision, where, as
a matter of course, to affect the remainder of his retreat
as he thoucht best.

The delicate nature of the exploit wil be understood,
when it is stated that it would be necessary to go very
neauly fifty yards in this manner, before it would be
safe to assuine an upright position, ¢ and that in m: iking
his retreat the slightest devation to the right or left, or
an undue disturbance of the leaves, so as to give the
redskin a suspicion of what was going on, would be
followed by the crack of his rifle and u: ipleasant con-
sequences to our clilerly friend. What was required
was a quiet celerity of movement, and a steadiness of
eye, which wonld keep the relative situation of the two.
precisely the same.

As preliminary to his attempt, Bowles darted his |
head quickly from behind the tree and back again be-
fore his dusky foe could bring his gun to bear. The
momentary glimpse thus obtained remained a: UeTTeo-
typed upon the eye of Bowles long enongh for “him to

take the exact bearing of the tree bebind which the
Mowhawk was concealed. Thus énlightened, he sank —
down upon his face, and, clasping his Title close to his

 
   
   
   
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
   
 
  
   

     
    

oa THE VALLEY scout.

_Ifany one doubts the difliculty of crawling back.
- wards, on a mathematical line of fifty yards in extent,
he is invited to try the experiment, and his sympa-
_thies will be quickly roused for Mr. Josiah Bowles of
Cherry Valley. But, as we have intimated in another
place Bowles had dealt with Indians before, and he
was not deficient in the great requisites of the wood
ranger, :

The first dozen yards were passed with comparative
ease, as it was a matter of small difficulty to keep the
enormous tree trunk between him and his foe; but now
with every retreating inch, the danger and delicate
mature of the business increased.

This species of locomotion was unnatural and con-
sequently tiresome. For a man who is freqnently
racked with rheumatism to retrograde in this style is
about equal to climbing a tree, and Josiah Bowles

found his halt an enforced one necessary for rest and
- recnperation. ;
But at this point the adventure of the old gentle-
_ man assumed a more fearful phase than he had ever
dreamed of. He had slightly raised his body for the
purpose of resuming his retreat, when a startling rat-
tle caught his ear, and turning his head, he sow an
enormous rattle snake coiled directly in his path! 5
_ The blood of Bowles fuirly chilled, as he eanght
‘sight of the glittering reptile, and it was only by rare
presence of mind that he prevented himself from
-spriuging to his feet, and thereby defeating his whole _
plan of escape. ae
_ _ But Bowles presence of mind did not desert hin,?
_erawling instantly forward a tew feet, he turned a quick
summerset, thus bringing his head toward the deadly
serpent. ;
The latter had the appearance of not exactly com-
-prehending the meaning of all this. It Jay in its beau-
-tiful coil, its head erect, its tail slightly rattling, as if
it were deliberating upon the best method of striking —
‘its blow. =

 

EAI Pre ROS ee

 

 
   
et cate

Op

es

THE VALLEY svour. Se ae

But the old gentleman had outflanked him, the dis-. ae

tance being too great for him to strike from his coil,

‘and the question now arose as to how the danger was

to be disposed of It needs no explanation: from us
to show that it was impossible to turn out six inches
in order to avoid it. That would be equally danger-
ous with an attempt to crawl over it.

Josiah Bowles lay as still death with his eyes
fixed upon the small glittering orbs of the reptile, un-
til he began to feel that its fatal spell was influencing —
him ; but he discovered this new peril in time; and,
removing his gaze from the snake, he looked over its
head at the tree beyond, thus keeping it in his field of
vision, but warding off that curious subtle spell by

which this species ‘of ser pent so frequently hold their
prey in agrasp from which they are powerless to es-

eap >.

 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
     
       
   
       
   
     
   
   
   
   
   
     

THE VALLEY sCovT.

CHAPTER Ils.
A NEW DANGER.

The old man lay as motionless as death, for fully ten
minutes, when the reptile. began slowly unwinding
his coil. He comprehended the meaning of this move-
ment, especially when it began crawling toward him.
ile hal too frequently encountered these dangerous

movement.

Now came the great trial of his nerves—a trial
which is sate to say scarcely a man out of a thousand
would have borne unflinchingly. The rattlesnake,
the way peculiar to its kind bad imbibed the idea that
the man was dead; and, as he Jay directly jn his path,
he had started out with the purpose of crawling over
him.

r ‘ortunately old Mr. Bowles comprehended this;
and, as he lay so qniet and deathlike upon the ground,
he did not even wink an eyelid for fear of undecei siving
him. The tail continued slightly to ratt'e, and the
head was brandished aloft, slightly swaying from side
to side all ready to strike the fatal blow, should any-
thing occur to make it necessary.

The slizhtest inadvertency would have done this.
The involuntary movement.of the hand, the nervous
twitch of the fice ora limb would have been followed,
by the instant drawing back of the small head, and the
lightning like darting « of the fangs, whose sacs were
-awollen with poison, “and the inevitable death of ist
who ae thus excited his anger.

 

creatures not tv understand fully their every whim and _

 

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Josin
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{apel

craw

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thos

was

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THE VALLEY scout. 25

   

Tt would be diffienlt to describe the emotions ot

Josiah Bowles as he felt the cold. slimy touch of the
eee upon his hand, and rather felt than saw its
tapering, beautiful form Esa in its beauty) as it
crawled by his face.

It could be but a moment, and yet it was one of
those moments,swhich seem like an ‘hour toa man. It
was a long time in passing, and for some time after
it had gone out of view, he did not, move, for fear of
feeling its fangs buried in his leg; bat finally he ven-
tured to turn his head barely enough to glance be-
hind him. The snake was twenty “feet off, gliding
quite rapidly over the rustling leaves.

The old man breathed freer, but he was not yet out
of danger; but thank heaven’ he had but a few more
teet to pass over, when the descent of the eround
shut him out from view. It was well it were so; for
he had gone such a distance from the beech that it

could ‘hardly afford a screen to his person much —

longer.

Bowles did not fake the trouble to reverse his po-
sition. but pulled himself straight forward, and short-
ly had the unspeakable relief of feeling that he was
out of all immediate peril. A few yards further on
his hands and knees, then on his feet in a crouching

position, and then he rose to nearly an upright posi-
tion, and skurried over the ground, as fast as his rheu-_

matic old limbs would permit.

The vigilant Iroquois was left standing behind the
tree, intent and wateliful for his enemy, the white
man, who left him there. For aught we know his
skeleton may still be grinning’ from behind the tree the
_eyeless sockets peering out at the decaying beech,

waiting for his traditional enemy to start forth to view. |

_» ‘The ‘detour which Bowles was thus compelled to
_ make, took him so far from his horse he was compelle:|
totake in near’y half a mile distance in order to reac

lim. His heart throbled apprehensively, as he saw
Ile knew that —

- that the-sun was high in the heavens.

 

   
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

s

 
 
 
 
 
 

   
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
  
 
 
       
   
   
   
   
    
   
      
   
     

Open. + THE VALLEY scour.

the wrath of Cynthia Bowles was at the boiling point
by this time, but he took a grain of comfort in the
thought that by this time she was so angry she could
not become any more so.

At any rate, Mr. Bowles concluded that prudence
demanded that he should keep a little closer watch
‘upon his footsteps. He had no desire to come
upon an armed Indian in the same manner as he had
Just done, especially as he still carried an empty gun,
nor did he feel particularly prepared to go through

another meeting with a rattlesnake.

Fully half an hour had passed ere he came round to
the place where he had Bat his switch-tailed mare,

“Jingo! I'm tired,’ he muttered, “and now I'l
rest miysel f by taking a ride —~” ‘

He paused abruptly, for there where his mare should
have beén she was not.

“Gone! stole!” he gasped,” not satisfied with
killing poor old brindle, they've gone and stole the
mare. Jingo! won't Cynthia tear round and break
things ?”

- The latter likelihood seemed more dreadful to con-
template than any prospective danger from the Iro-
quois. But in the midst of Mr. Bowles’ utter despair
he was gratified by a sight of his switch-tailed pacer,
who had quietly slipped her halter, and was browsing

tifally around her. She was_ easily approached and
the halter slipped over her head again, when Mr.
Bowles yaulted as lightly upon her back as though he
felt not the weight of over three score years, and
twenty years racking from rheumatism
« “Now we'll go hum,” be added to his animal, “ for

  

for I've been gone a long while.”
Dismal forebodings took possession of the mind of
Mr. Bowles, as he pictured his sponse waiting at the

  

| Spade: It was his intention to forestall ber fury,

upon the tender buds and shoots which grew so plen-—

I don't blame Cynthia if she’s a little out of patience

x nd of Wellsbure for the return of him and the faith-—

  

 
THE VALLEY sCoUT. — Ce ee.

by presenting her with the bell of the cow, thus
qrelling her anger by raising the more powerful emo-
tion of curiosity; but in his laborious escape from
the clutches of the Iroquois, he had been compelled
to part with this so that he might save his own ba-
con. ¢

Our readers will bear in mind, that the incidents we.
are relating are supposed to have occurred in the‘
neighborhood of Cherry Valley, in the year of 1777.
Portions of the fertile vale were thickly populated,
while others -had as yet been trodden by scarcely any
one except the red Indian and wild animal.

Josiah Bowles. in his search for his cow had tray-
crsed.the main road for a considerable distance, when
he turned across an open field, and entered the bor-—
der of a vast wood, which extended far into the coun-
try and contained many an acre that was considered
the almost undisputed property of the Iroqnois and.
wild animals.

When the war of the revolution broke out, this be-
came a constant source of dread to the peaceful settler
as it offered a secure hiding place to the ruthless In-
dian, who could descend upon their peaceful settle-
ments during the darkness of the night, strike their
murderous blow, and withdraw unscathed and un-
harmed. Me

Afier emerging from the open wood, Bowles found
himself in a sort of cow path, which looking as though
jt would lead him out at a proper point; he followed —
at aleisurely gait, and as he bounded up and down ow
the bony back of his switch-tailed mare, he mused —
with himself— fae

__ « Won’t Cynthia be excited when she larns the brin-
die cow is no more? She wasa splendacious animal, —
and I don’t wonder that Colonel Wells used to brag ss
on her so much—hello! what's gettin’ to be the mat-
ter with the mare ?” ae

The animalin qvestion had suddenly stopped trot- —
tin, and manifested a strong reluctance to proceod- =

 
  

28 THE VALLEY scout.

  

ing farther. Iler head was erect, her ears thrown

forward, and she snuffed the air as though she scent-

ed danger. Ter rider peered forward as far as he
could discern, but could detect nothing to cause ap-
plehension,

‘iInne it!” he muttered, ‘I've seen so much of
TInjins to-day when I didn’t expect ’em, that I would
not be ‘sprised if there were some of ’em hereabouts.
if there be any more of them infarnal Mohawks, they
will soon be down in Wellsburg, teiing round and
smashing up things and killing of us. Jingo! but
Colonel Wells onght to know about this.”

By this time Bowles was becoming really nervous.
He had certainly undergone enough to try the self

_ possession of a wood-ranger, and he lad borne it re-
markably well. The truth of it was, he was about
used up.” and unfit for anything further. Had he
ben called upon to go through the same ordeal again,
he would have failed. :

He debated with himself a considerable time, as to
whether he should proceed or turn about and go back.
If there was danger, he felt that he ought to know
it, so as to give the needful warning and information
to the settlement, and especially to Colonel Wels,
who was looked up to in all iatters of public inter-
est, as counsellor and guide. Whether to dismount
from his horse or not was the all-important question,
But time was precious, and after a few minutes
thought he began riding slowly forward.

Carefully as this was done it nariow'y escaped
-yroving fatal. He had turned a bend in the path, and
was leaning anxiously forward, when he caught a
glimpse of forms moving to and fro, and rcalized that,
tre had narrowly escaped riding into an encampment
of Tndians.

_ "Phis was enough, or rather too much for Josiah.

~ Without stopping to see whether he had been discoy-
ered, he wheeled bis horse around, and thundering

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

   
 
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
     
    
   
   

  

‘

  
THE VALLEY SCOUT. j 29

hi. hee’s against her sides, started her off at a full
run.

In ashort time they emerged from the woods, and
the fleet-footed animal fairly few down the field,
vaulting over the stone wall into the main road,
down which the old man thundered fairly wild with

terror.

i
H
i
{

 
THE VALLEY scour,

CHAPTER IV.
THE ALARM.

The Mohawks are coming over the hills! They’ll
soon be here!” :

While yet beyond hearing of the little village of
Wellsburg, Bowles was shouting at the top of his
voice, in the hope of arousing his friends and neigh-
bors, who were oblivious of the dreadful danger close
at hand,

Suddenly he saw a formin the road and observed that
he was making signals to him. Peering over the head
of his horse, and through the dust of the beaten road,
he immediately recognized Colonel Wells, the head
man of the village, who was waving his cane, as a
‘summons for him to stop.

No need of that ; he was the man who, above all
others, Bowles wished to see; and, boilng over with
news, he reigned up the mare beside him in the road,
with such suddenness as to throw her on her haun-
ches, and caused the words to appear as if shot from
between the lips of the rider.

“ What does all this excitement mean?” asked the
smiling Colonel Wells, in the most pleasant and delib-
erate of voices, and without a trace of alarm in his
own countenance, :
“ What does it mean? Why, that a thousand In-
_jins are coming over the hills, straight for Wells-—
_ burg.

6 Ah! 199

“Yes; aud every one of them is in war paint, sith
a rifle and tomahawk !” ss

aot

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT.

“Indeed! then you must have seen them ?”

be Yes.” 3

“ Did you count them !”

‘“No; of course not ; but I could tell pretty nearly

how many there were.”

“There were a thousand, then ?”

“Very near, I’m sure,”

* All in their war paint ?”

“They looked so, from where I saw them.”

* And where was that ?”

Bowles pointed backward, toward a wooded range
of hills, about two milés distant, lying off to the left of
the main road.

“ Tow was it that you came to see them 2”

“ Why. I waslooking for our old brindle cow, that
wandered off last night, when I heerd a kind of yell,
and looked off down the hill, when, hang me if I did’nt
see the whole pack.”

* Tlow long did you stay ?”

“Just long enough to see that they were Mohawk
Injins on the war-path, and then I straddled the mare,
and the way I came tearing out from the woods was a
caution. But, Colonel, they will soon be here, and
we have no time to wait.

“JT understand Josiah, but I wish to ask a few more
questions, for I want to learn all I can about this -
ver. I see you are excited”

“Hang it! ain't it enough to make a fellow tear
his shirt? I've got a wife and thirteen children and
Jittle grandchildren down in that village, and I aint

- gnite ready to see em chopped up, for ‘all four of my

sons are fighting under General Washington. ’

_ “You are right, but you can do nothing while you
are in this condition. Cool down so as to have your

- wits about you. I will walk beside you to the village _
and we will talk as we go.”
_ This arrangement Bowles could not object to, al-—
though it did not precisely, suit him; for he was just.

in that condit. on of mind when he longed to dash _

 
 

THE VALLEY scout.

through the place, bis hair flying and he yelling “ In-
jins” loud enough to split the ears of all within hear-
ing. The coolness and apparent indifference of Colo-
nel Wells nettled him, but there was no remedy.

“ Now,” said the latter, ‘this is a great peril and
we must prepare for it. How was it Josiah that you
knew them to be Mohawk Indians ?”

* Bless you, Colonel, wasn't I prisoner among ’em:
thirty years ago? Didn't they come on to me and my
brother, when we war choppin’ wood and shoot him
with fifty bullets, while they carried'me off a hundred
miles in the woods and kept me for two weeks.”

“‘ Tow did you get away ?”

“The Lord done it,” said Bowles, reverentially.
“JT give ’em the slip one dark, rainy night, hid my

trail, by hugging a log and swimming down the Mo-

hawk all night, and hiding in the trees along shore in
‘the day time. So I got back home and I think I
Farned enough about Mohawk Injins to tell ’°em when
T see ’em, if there happens to be nigh unto a thousand
of *em.”

“Yes; [think you might have learned that much
at the yery least. You are sure they intend paying
us a visit!”

¢ Just as sure as I am that ’m a settin’ on the best
mare in Cherry Valley. Hang me. Colonel, you orter
seen it streak through the woods!” exclaimed old Mr.
Bowles, oblivious to every fact for the time, except
the beanties and accomplishments of the switch-tailed
_ pacer, clasped so lovingly between his knees.

“You know, after you get off the main road, up
among the woods’ there’s nothing but a bridle path.
Wal, when the mare snuffed the danger—and [ be-
lieve she seed ’em afore I did, she came tearing thro’
the brid!e-path like a cannon ball. If I hadn’t jest laid
down on her back and hugged her neck, Pd have had
my head knocked off a dozen times afore we got out

the woods; but I say Colonel,” added Josiah, grow-—

ing fidgety again, ‘how about the Injins?”

 
    
  

 

: <3

    
 

 

   
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  

   
 
 

 
 

 
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
THE VALLEY Scour.

** Tow soon do you think they will be here ?”

“Rieht away! Right off!” the old man fairly
shouted in his flurry.

“Sh! not so loud! They eannot come as soon
as that. It must be several hours before they ean get
here.”

“No, sir!” was the emphatic contradiction.

ap Well. we have an hour at least—short enongn
time, it is true, but still long enough for us toemake -
ample preparations, I tr ust, to repel this invasion.
You think they didn’t see you?”

‘I'm sure they didn’t; they were not marching,
but appeared to have baited and enigamped for a lit-
tle while.”

*‘ Ah! that makes it look more favorable still ; that
will cive us more time.”

“lf they had been marehing they would have seen
me, and sent a hundred bullets after me as I turned to
run ; but I didn’t hear the crack of a gun or the least
noise after I started.” .

During this rather brief and hurried conversation
between Colonel Wells and old Mr. Bowles, the lat-
ter had been easting fnrtive glances over his mare's

_ shoulder towards the village, for he had uttered but a

few words, when he descried a tall, rather gaunt fe-
male striding r: apidly down the road ieee him. One
glanee sas suiflicient for him to identify her. .

** Where have you been all this time? You're a
purty man, ain’t you? What have you been do-
ing ?———” se

“My dear Cynthia”

Don't you dear Cynthia me ; this 1s a pretty ame te
come home, ain’tit? Where’s the brindle?”

“Jf you will only give mo time my dear wie?

* Where is the brindle cow, I say ?”

* Dead!”

“Deap!” shrieked Mrs. Bowles, starting backs ite
amazed horror. ‘ What do you mean ?” aes

‘She is dead as sure as you live.”

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT.

“How? Who?”

“ The Mohawks killed her.”

Mr. Bowles accomplished quite a point, and he now

felt quite at ease. His wife looked the questions which
_ she could not frame the words to utter.

“ Yes, dear Cynthia, there is sonsething like a thou-
sand Mohawks back among the hills, over there by,
the woods, and they’ll soon be down here to toma--
hawk‘and scalp us all.”

‘How cool and collected the husband appeared, when
he felt he was the repository of such important infor-
mation, and that in short he was master of the situa-
tion, and that for the time Cynthia’s wrath was driven
to the winds.

Mrs. Bowles changed on the instant.

_“ My dea Jo inh, “T must see to them boys and girls
_ this minute— they're scattered every where—the poor
dears.”

And she strode rapidly aay, all unmindful of
everything else except her rather numerous pro-
geny.

“Now,” said Josiah, addressing Colonel Wells,
She understands matters, and observe how she'll
manage things. My wife isa woman of mind.”

“Well, Josiah, don’t let your fears run away with
your wits. You are trembling and excited.”

*-Ain’t it enough to make a man rather narvous ?”

“Well, here we are on the edge of the village, and
the people are already frightened. It is high time we
ae making our preparations.”

 
CHAPTER V.
WELLSBURG.

One of the cosiest, old-fashioned villages that ever
went to sleep away out in the country, was that of
Wellsburg, in Cherry Valley.

The houses numbered abont twenty, the most of
which had been built at least fifty years before, when
a few sturdy settlers, on their way to Western New
York, encamped on the small stream one night, and
were so struck with its romantic beauty that they
went no farther, but straightway began a settlement
then and there.

The buildings were made of heavy logs, pnt toge-
ther in a manner that showed the architects were not
oblivious to the fact, that their claim to this charming
nook in the forest was not likely to remain for ever —
undisputed—that, in fact, It was pretty sure that eer-
tain aboriginal gentlemen of a redish complexion,
were very likely to advocate their claims to the same

property.
__ Their prudence proved their safety, and many were
the sanguinary contests between them and the In-
dians ; but we have to do with events of a later date, |
and wean only refer easually to those in the early
history of the settlement, to show that an infant born
and nursed in such a stormy period could not be found
in the vigor of manhood, unprepared for the storm
_ that was to burst over it.
_ About twenty years before the breaking out of the
American R ees Colonel Clarence Wells, a mid~

 
   

 

$3 THE VALLEY SCOUT.

dle-aged and wealthy man moved into the settlement,
bringing with his family several emigrants. He be
gan ‘at once the construction of his house, which, when
finished “was of about three times the capacity and
strength of any of the others, and at cne: took upon
himself more the character of a fort than anything
else. .

Colonel Wells immediately assumed the character
of a Jeader in the small settlement. His pleasant, af-
fable manner, his refined and courteous demeanor, his
known wealth, his military ability, together with seve-
ral grievous wounds which had sent him out of the
French war before its conclusion—these, with his ad-
mirable social qualities, made him the man at once, and
decided the name of thie little collection of houses,
which had so long needed an appellation.

Colonel Wells’ coming seemed to be a fortunate
one for the little settlement—for it was a singular co-
incidence that, although the summer before his arri-
yal had been characterized by one of the largest and
most furious assaults to which the little place had ever
been subjected, yet not a hostile shot was exchanged
during the first season he spent in this out-of-the-way
place.

Year after year stole away, and although the ever-
watchful Five Nations were striking here and there
and everywhere, yet the settlement was unharmed
until twenty summers and winters had come and gone,

and the Revolution broke out. This immunity from
danger, to say the least was singular, and excited no
littie. remark amone the settlers, who could imagine
no reason for it, except that Colonel Wells possessed
some extr: aordin: ary and unquestioned power over the
surrounding Indians. Whence he derived this power
it was impossible to tell, that is, if he really had any
such influence. The Colonel was a great hunter, and
frequently spent days and days in wandering into the
woods, striking straight into the heart of the Indian
country, and pursuing his ‘game into the hunting

 

grour
dare
nse 0
the {
the
jun
A
one
wh
pro
ane
wh
ail

 
 
 
 
 
  

©
THE VALLEY Scout. 87

Ms f grounds, whither the most intrepid backwoodsman

© fF dare not venture He had a wonderful skill in the

oe | use of his long English rifle, and the sharp crack of

d the piece as it exploded in the forest, was sure to be

E § the death warrant of some game worthy of a true }

3 hunter's skill. |
F At the time to which we refer, Colonel Wells had |

' ~@ one child, a lovely daughter, twenty years of age, |

who was the life and joy of his househoid. A twin
brother of hers had been buried a dozen years before,
' and his grave was made in a quiet nook in the wood,
whither the surviving friends could retire and weep in
silence.

The breaking out of the Revolutionary war drained
Wellsburg of nearly all its male inhabitants. The lit-
tle place was intensely Joyal and ‘sent all her able-
bodied men to the war, leaving Colonel Wells, old
Josiah Bowles, and several other superanuated old
gentlemen, a few boys and all the women and chil-
dren.

The security which had rested over Wellsburg for
a score of years now vanished, and those left behind
became a prey to all the fear, apprehension and terror
which took possession of the exposed village and set-
tlement during the trouble between the colonies and
the mother country.

Colonel Wells’ first proceeding was to see that his
house was put in the best position for defense. Ad-
ditional port holes were pierced, green logs replaced
many of those that had become dry and seasoned, a
sort of trap-door was arranged, from which, under
protection of a bullet-proof planking, water could be |,
' thrown on the burning: roof, a well was sunk in one
quarter of the large building, and a quantity of provi-
sions and ammunition was always stored there, so that
every appliance was at hand wherewith to stand a
protracted siege.

The officer wandered through the woods as much

Se

 

   
   

ree

 
 

 

 

88 THE VALLEY scour.

as ever, but he was never away from home over night,
nor even after it was dark. The crack of bis rifle was
seldom heard, and he appeared to spend his time in
watcling for the first appearance of danger.

Mary Wells had started off on a ramble through the
woods several times, but, on each occasion she en-

countered her father, who kindly but firmly sent her

back again, with the advice never to go out of sight
of her home without the company of himself or some
ene who was able to protect her. He told her there

was danger lurking in the very air, liable to burst at
any moment.

The long immunity from disturbance enjoyed by
the sleepy little village made many. of the inhabitants
forgetful of the increasing peril. They would believe
nothing of the threatened trouble until it was really
upon them, no matter what the warnings were and
how repeatedly they might be uttered.

But Colonel Wells was no alarmist. He simply re-
minded those around him of the necessity for watch-
fulness, the danger of straying away from the settle-
ments and the possibility of gn Indian invasion at any
moment.

This, at first, as might naturally be expected, threw
many of the older people almost into hysterics of ter-
tor, but as time wore on, and nothing was seen or
heard of the Indians, this apprehension ‘gradually died
out, until the little place bid fair to relapse into the
sleepy languor which had characterized the score of
years pr eceding the war.

Now and then a flutter was caused by the arrival of
some runner at the village—some friendly Indian
known to all—who brought rumors of the fearful
conflicts going on between the Americans and the In-
dians and Tories, and the ravages committed by the
latter, who devastated some of the fairest portions of
our fair country.

But again, as time passed on, and nothing more was

 

 
THE VALLEY scout. : 89

seen or heard of the affrighted runner, the old fear
passed away, and they came to have an abiding faith,

under heaven in Colonel Wells, whose presence for so
long a time had seemcd to hold a charm over them—
a sort of magic protection—which could not be bro-
ken or dispelled.

«

 
 

 

 

40 THE VALLEY scout,

CHAPTER VI.

e

THE LOVERS.

Oar readers must bear with usa few minntes longer
while we delay plnnging into the whirl and thunder
of this extraordinary invasion of Cherry Valley, by
the Iroquois Indians. The critical times are close at
hand, but we have an episode to dispose of before we
plunge into the stirring incidents,

Among the youth who had been born and raised in
Wellsburg, was Edward Sutherland, whose father
died while the boy was in his infanev, and he was left
alone with his widowed mother. He was a remarka-
ble bright child, whose good behaviour rendered him
a favorite with all. and when just before the breaking
out of the Revolution his mother died and he was left
alone, the villagers mourned as much for his grief, as
they did for the departure of the good woman.

The war of independence had hardly begun, when
Edward, who was hardly of age, headed the small
party of young men who left the settlement and join-
ed the Continental army under General Washington.

On the evening before his departure young Sather-
land might have been seen walking slowly along the
margin of the stream, which skirted the settlement,

while leaning upon his arm was Mary, the bright-
eyed daughter of Colonel Wells.

Mary was a year or two younger than her eompan-
ion, and they had been universally revarded ag euter-
taining a rather tender passion toward each other,
aid it was the universal verdict that no coupic could
be found better fitted for each other.

th
th

 

 

 

 
   
  
 

THE VALLEY scout, 4t

Colonel Wells, who no doubt was entitled to say
_the most on this question, was never heard to say any
“thing. There can be little doubt but that he compre-
_hended the situation of affairs, but, as to his views, up
_to the present writing none were enlightened; but
judging from his usual | shrewdness and good sense we
are safe in supposing that he held no objection to it.
Young Sutherland was about as poor as a man can
| well be, and still maintain an appearance of respect-
ability; but while thus unfortunate, his situation had

 

 

ay _hone of the embarrassments of poverty peculiar to
ef more civilized portions of our country ; for in Wells-
Y. _ burg all were poor, in a certain sense, excepting, per-
: haps Colonel Welles, who had br ought a goodly for-

 

_ tune there, and who had increased it ‘during the many
' years he had spent in the wilderness.

The two walked in silence for a time, for if a young
maiden can be pardoned for feeling somewhat sad, it
is when she is about to bid good-bye to her lover go-
ing’ to the war.

«You have no idea when you will be back,” she
said in her honest tones, for she was determived not
to entertain the thought of his falling in battle.

“ Yes, I have,” he replied, somewhat gaily.

“When ?” she asked, her countenance brightening up

“ When the war is finished and our independence
secured.”

“Oh! yes,” she said, her countenance falling again,
“but is that to be one, three, or ten years?”

“Tt is safe to believe that it will be a good long
while—no doubt long to you, and long to me; but
you must keep up a good heart, and hope for the best,
1 hope I shall see you before the war ends.” =

“* How?” she inquired, not comprehending him.

‘There will be times, no doubt, when | shall be
able to get off on furlough, and I shall hasten home,_
you may be sure.”

« And it may hecome necessary for you to come here
to defend the settlement from the Indians and British.”

 

  
  
    
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
     
 

|

   

 
   
     
   
   
     
 

 

 

42 THE VALLEY scout,

““T hope not.”
“ And so do I.”

‘ But if danger threatens this place I shall be the§

first to come, and only hope that I may be in time te
prevent your suffering any fright even.”

“T don’t care so much about the fright if we are]

not harmed. I believe fright does not often J.urt a
person, and I don’t think it will harm us.”
There were many words to say, and the two wan-

dered along by the brook, until the day waned, when —
they returned home. Sutherland spent the evening in ~
her society, and on the morrow morning waved her a ©

merry farewell from the top of an adjoining hill, where
he and his comrades passed a few moments to take a
parting look at their homes.

We have not the space, nor is it our purpose to fo.-
low young Sutherland through his varied adventures
in the Revolution, but only give those which more
nearly concerns the little settlement of Wellsburg, in
Cherry Valley.

The fine young American recruits had progressed
about a dozen miles through the forests in Central
New York, when they halted upon the banks of a
small stream to prepare their noon-day meal. While
thus engaged a huge dog, the property of one of their
number, snuffed the air, whined and gave evidence
that he scented danger.

“Bowser smells something, ”” said his owner.

“Nothing but his dinner, ” yemarked another,
“ that’s all he’s good for.”

«You will see,” was the reply.

The question was speedily answered by the parting
of the undergrowth, and the sudden appearance of an
Indian in his war-paint. The smile and pleasant looks

which lit up the faces of the young men, showed that’
‘he was neither a stranger nor an enemy. He ad-

vanced straight to the men and shook hands with all,
accompanying the salutation with a few words in bro-
ken English, expressive of the pleasure in seeing

 

 

 
THE VALLEY scout,

hem, while they did the same in better Anglo-

Between Sutherland and the Indian there seemed
to exist a special friendship, and the dusky visitor
held his hand for some moments.

“ On your tramps, Peqawaski ?”

“Yes; I be come to see you.”

“Glad to see you; we had missed you so long
trom the vicinity of our home that we thought you
had forgotten us.”

“ Me no forget.”

“See here, what are you doing 2” asked the young
patriot, as if a sudden thought had just seized him.

“ Me hunter.”

“ Well, we are on our way to Albany to join the
army, and to help General Washington to fight
S against the British and it isn’t going to be the easi-
€st thing in the world to get there. You see we ain’t
out of the woods yet.”

_ “TI see,” replied Peqawaski, taking him literally.
“ And why can’t you guide us till we get beyond
danger?”
“Me can do it.”
“ Will you?”
** Me will.”
© ‘Well, that’s the way to talk,” langhed one of the
young friends. “ That bargain was soon made.”
“ That is the way Peqawaski and I deal with each
other,” said Sutherland, who was indeed glad to meet
his Mend:
There were some peculiar facts connected with Pe-
_qawaski. He was a full-blooded Mohawk, and was
one of those who had been brought under the influ-
ence of Sir William Johnson. He was devoted to
the British interests, and there was no doubt that. du-
ring the impending war, his power and hatred would
be felt by the Americans, for he was a warrior of ex-
_traordinary courage and skill. a
And yet, Peqawaski, for the last few years had man-

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT.

ifested an ardent friendship for Col. Wells and young
Sutherland—a friendship so strong that it would over-7
ride everything else and cause him to brave anything |
in their behalf should it become necessary. 3

Why he held these men in such high esteem, it”
would be impossible to say. Te had stracraled into”
the settlement, and at the very first sight of Colonel 7
Wells, told him as well as his broken utterance would |
permit that he had lest a brother years before, and
that he had dreamed that Colonel Wells was to sup- |
ply his place—and to this arrangement the shrewd
man assented, particularly as no bad results could ~
flow from it, while the far -seeing man comprehended ” 1
that it was by no means improbable that it might even- —
tuate in benefit to himself and to the entire settlement. 7

This was years before, when Edward Sutherland —
was quite a boy, yet whe Peqawaski caught sight of —
jim he manifested a no less powerful attac! iment. He
presented him with wampum, and numerous trinkets, 7
and invited him to accompany him home. This 7
seemed too perilous a favor to grant, but in the course”
ofa year the boy assented, and was gone for a month, — i
much to the terror of his mother and friends, but he ~
safely returned and gave a glowing account of all that
he had seen and heard during his sojourn among the~
lroquois.

This, by way of introduction, will explain the state @
of fecling between the two. They were always 4
friends, although it was well understood, that against 7}
the white race in gener:] Peqawa-ki entertained no feel- 3m
jugs except those of hatred. 4¢ was well known that ~
he was engaged in warlike ircursions against the
neighboring settlement, but those in Wellsburg feared |
him not. 4

The friendly Indian aceepted the office of guide ”
with an alacrity which testified his sincerity, and none |
of them had any hesitation in trusting him implicitly. 7
He led them with the unerting skill of the greyhound
through the trackless woods, and a few days later

 
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
    
   
  
   
    
  
   
  
 

THE VALLEY scour. A5

‘they emerged into the highway which led from Cen-
"tral New York to Albany, and arrived shortly after.
 Peqawaski persisted in accompanying them the en-
re distance, although to tell the truth, they were ra-
her anxious to be rid of his company; for knowing
he sentiments he held toward their own kindred, they
'Would have preferred that he should remain as far
Away from them as possible. . But he left them with
n expression of good-will and with the promise to
Warn Edward Sutherland if any danger should threat-
en Wellsburg.

Peqawaski’s subsequent actions proved that he did
| not forget his promise. In this same year of grace,
1777, and a few weeks previous to the invasion of the
Mohawk Valley, young Sutherland being with that
-® Wing of the Continental army, which was operating
in the middle States, obtained a Month’s furlough for
. the purpose of visiting his home in Wellsburg. Any
one who has been in the army knows: how eagerly
Such a boon is received by the soldier ; and permission
Was scarcely granted to the young lieutenant, when
he was on his way to Cherry Valley.

One of the men who accompanied him when two
years before he left Wellsburg had been killed in bat-
tle, while the others who had made application for a
pa similar favor were refused. Consequently our hero
“made the first part of his journey alone.

But when a few miles from home, and on the very
day which witnessed the remarkable adventures of
Josiah Bowles already recorded, as good fortune would
have it he encountered his old Mohawk friend, Peqa-
waski, who communicated the alarming intelligence,
that alarge party of the Five Nations were on the
march to attack Wellsburg.

And this brings us back again to old Mr. Bowles
and his switch-tailed mare, as he and Colonel Wells
entered the village, and now came the whirl, and tn-
mult and peril, and warfare, such as never could be
forgotten by Cherry Valley.

 
 

 

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT.

CHAPTER VII.
MOVING DAY.

As the horsemen and footmen entered the little set- 4
tlement of Wellsburg, the coolness of the latter only 1
rendered the former more uneasy. q

“Hang me, Colonel, I can’t stand this,” he abruptly —
called out. ‘Only think, them bloody Mohawks may ™
be coming over the hill this very minute, and them
people don’t know anything about it, not to mentior
them thirteen children and grandchildren of mine—~
Gee-up !”

Away like an arrow shot the switch-tailed mare,,
and the rider at once boiled over.

“Tnjins! Mohawks! They are coming over the
hills a thousand strong, and will soon be here!” 4

It required but a short time for the tidings to go”
round the little settlement. The women with pale7
cheeks, open mouths, and staring eyes, came rushing
forth, and, with rapidly throbbing hearts gathered
around the old man. —

“¢ Where?”

‘“‘ How far off ?”

“How soon will they be here?”

Such and similar were the questions that were pour-
ed forth continuously, that Bowles answered them in~
a lump:

“T seen ’em -up over the hills.) They’ll be he
mighty quick, You hain’t got no time to spare—not
abit. Get your duds and youngsters, and pile into
the fort, just as quick as you know how.”

At this point Colonel Wells made his appearance
and the eager, gasping, affrighted people were in
stantly transferred to him.

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT. Al

“Oh, what shall we do? what shall we do 2” some
of them already beginning to*sob.

“The first thing to be done is to stop all this hub-
bub,” was the reply uttered in the same pleasant, smil-
ing manner, that he would have advised them to go
on a pic nic.

“But heavens o'nath!” exclaimed Mrs. Bowles,
did you hear what my old man said ?”

«J think every one within a halfa mile heard him.”

‘« Well! he says there be a thousand of ’em.”

“My friends!” called Colonel Wells. in a louder
voice, and addressing the entire settlement who had
gathered around him, “there is no occasion for all
this hubbub, but there is need of hurry. Gather all
your most valuable articles and carry them into my
house. Be careful, first, to get all your children to-
gether, and next to that take in all the guns and am-
munition you can scare up. Now, go to work.

As they did, a scene of the most indiscriminate
confusion followed, It became plain at once that each
family considered the most valuable portion of their
furniture the whole furniture itself, and began ecarry-
ing it. piecemeal within the large house, more gene-

“rally known as ‘“‘the Fort.”

This could not be allowed, and Colonel Wells at
once forbade it. He told them to bring in their pro-
visions and ammunition, and a few other indispensa-
ble articles, but he peremptorily refused to allow any
of the lumber or cumbrous furniture to be carried
within his building.

You see, Josiah, it would do no good,” he re-
marked to the old man who had dismounted, tied his
horse to a stake in the middle of the village, and was
now standing with folded arms talking to Colonel
Wells. “ You see that if I should allow them all to
carry their entire furniture in, the building would be
so filled with them that there would be no room for
any of us; while, if I should allow a part, it will im-
pede our movement. We must have unrestrained

 
THE VALLEY SCout.

liberty within, and if we didn’t there is no reason fur
discriminating between any of the families.”
“You are right Colonel, you can help their toting,
as it is a big *nough pile in there to make a powerful
_ bother to us.”
_“Tshall have it stored in the cellar as soon as they
are through—that is, the most part of it.”
‘© A good idea, if you’ve only got room’”—
© Youre a purty old man, ain’t you!” came the
shrill voice of Mrs. Bowles, as she caught the elbow
of her husband and jerked him half way round.
“You're a purty old lazy hulk, ain’t you? here I’m
working myself to death e’enmost, and you stand here
_ gabbing with Colonel Wells who don't want to speak
2 word to you. Come along, I say!” she screimed,
almost jerking him off his feet.‘ What you going to
do with them blessed thirteen children, every one ot
-?em like a wild Injin.”
“Jingo! I forgot all about ’em.”
“You're a purty husband and father and grand-
father ain’t you, forget all about your children! I
- declar’ to gracious, if it was so I'd be ashamed to own
it. There goes Jedediah and Jemima! See if you've
got enough gumption to ‘tend to them!” a
The two children referred to constituted all the
children of Mr. and Mrs. Bowles that were in the yil-
lage at the time, except two married girls, or rather
_ women, who were busy enough in attending to their
particular duties, without devoting any time to those }
of others. Jedediah was twelve and Jemima was
fourteen years of age. The confusion was a source
of vast delight to them, and they were running hither
and thither shouting at the tops of their voices.

“Mr. Bowles’ first proceeding was to give each of
these hopefuls a smart shaking and then to run them
into the fort, as we sometimes hurry a frichtened ani-
-mal over a shaky bridge, by taking it by the head and

_rnshing across before it had time to yield to terror.
-Onee fairly within the building the two children knew

 
THE VALLEY scout. ees Agee

enonch of their father’s wrath to remain there with-
out attempting to steal out again.

“Yonder goes Joshua Thomas!” shricked Mrs.
Bowles. “Oh! what a boy that Joshua Thomas is!
Mind I tell you young man, one o° these days Ill get
hold of you and settle up for all this!" and she shook
her fiist at the urchin, as he turned a summerset and
disappeared behind one of the houses. However, be-
fore he could rise he was grasped by the ankle, slung
over the shoulder of his muscular grandfather and hur-
ried into the fort with the others.

* O, Josiah !”? came in more fearful tones than ever.
“Yonder goes Jerusha Ann, astraddle of that ’ere
dog!” and she pointed to a dumpy youngster of the
feminine gender, who was seated upon a huge New- |
foundland dog, that was trotting very deliberately off
in the direction of the hills, over which for every
minute during the Jast half hour the Iroquois were
coming, ;

© Catch ’em! catch ’em!” screamed Mrs. Bowles.
“That ‘ere plagued dog'll tote her right off to the [n-
jus afore you can stop ’em. I declare to gracious
what a tom-boy that Jerusha Ann is getting That
ere dog shall be killed, just to keep her from making
a tom-boy of herself. Won’t her father give it to her —
when he comes back from fightin’ under General
Washington.” : :

As a short method of bringing matters to a focus,
Mr Bowles called to the dove, which, whirling round —
rather suddenly cansed his rider to roll over on the
ground, This necessitated a hurried: run to the spot
by the grandfather, who picked her up and trausport-
cd her into the house precisely as he had done the pre-_
ceding one. ; Joe

“That makes all!” said Mrs. Bowles, in a more
contented strain, as she looked about her as a hen does”
over Ler numerous brood. ‘* Yonder stands Colonel
Wells down at the end of the village! Why don’t
he come in, afore he gets shot ?” Se

 
— «60 | ‘THE VALLEY scour.

e's motioning for me to go to him!” replied her
husband, ‘¢T suppose he sees ; something of the In-
jins.”*

CHAPTER VIII.

DANGER,

Before old Mr. Bowles reached Colonel Wells, ano-
ther figute flitted to view and running lightly over the
intervening space, caught both his hands in her own

“O father! isn’t this dreadful !”

The flowing hair was brushed away from the rosy
face, and an affectionate kiss implanted upon the lips
before the parent made reply.

“Isn't what dreadful, my child 2?”

“Why, father, you’ve heard how a thousand Indians

are coming out of the woods yonder with guns and
knives and are going to kill us all.”

“T have heard something about it, I believe—I think

old Mr. Bowles brought some such rumor.’

“O father! how can you talk so? You don’t seem
to be the least bit frightened.”

“Tm surprised to see you make vie a little dunce

of yourself. Ill warrant you, your mother hasn't
_ made one-tenth the fass you are creating.”

“No; she seems just like you, not the least bit

seared. ' She stands there telling the half crazy people
where to place their goods, just as though it were
moving day, and they were all her servants. ”?

“«How much more sensible than her daughter?”

‘J suppose she is,” replied Mary, b: ushing and
smiling, “but are you not frightened ?”

“Tam a little uneasy, for “I suppose we shall have
trouble.”

“Do you think we shall drive them away ?”
One thing is certain; we shall not be able to do

 
’

THE VALLEY SCOUT. ee “ero

so, if every one shdws as little presence of mind as
my daughter.”

The tears came to Mary’s eyes, for she felt the re-
buke keenly.

‘J could not help it father, when old Mr. Bowles
said there were a thousand of them, coming as fast as
they could, and he expected to see them every min-
ute.”

“There! there! never mind!” said Colonel Wells,
again kissing his child. “Go back to the fort and
teach the others to keep cool, for their only safety lies.
in their doing so.”

“ But are you going to remain here?”

“Only a few minutes, to keep watch of our visit-
ors as they come in sight. Perhaps I may escort
them in,” laughed the Colonel, as he motioned to his
daughter to hurry away to the fort. She gave him a
reproachful but loving look, as she turned on her heel
and ran lightly to the fort, within which she instantly
vanished.

Old Mr. Bowles advancing with long, rapid strides,
and panting from the severe exertions undergone in
capturing his grandchildren, now halted in front of
Colonel Wells and gasped out.

*¢ Seen "em yit ?” ;

“No; I have detected no signs of their approach.”

* Strange, ain't it; they must be getting good and
ready.”

“ You are sure you saw a large war-party, Josiah?’

The injured look which the old man bestowed on —
his interlocutor was a suflicient answer to this ques-
tion.

“T tell you them Iroquois are a bloody set of
scamps, and the very worst lot among them are the
Mchaiwks. You see, Colonel, I know something
about them dogs, and I shoulin’t wonder now if some —
of the very ones that nabbed me when I was chop-
ping wood with my brother years ago are in that —
crowd.” ;

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT,

“Do you suppose they would remember you!”

“Can't say , but I believe I'd remember them.”

“Well, Josiah, I believe every thing is fixed at the
house, isn’t it.”

“Think it is; leastways my wife and our thirteen
children and grandchildren are stowed away some-
where in there. Tm sure they're the most vallyble
part of our furniture.”

‘* All the rest of the people are in?”

‘‘T think they be, I don’t see any out, except your
darter, and she’s inside.”

“Then there isn’t much danger of her being out-
side.” replied the Colonel, who was determined to
have his joke at all times.

*©No; I s’pose not.”

“See here, Josiah,” continued the officer, becoming
serious, ‘* You are pretty well acquainted with the
ways of Indians, ain’t you?”

“T think I orter be.”

Which was the most emphatic manner possible for
the old gentieman to answer the question in the aftir-
mative.

“Well, I'm going to ask a rather dangerous exploit
of you, and one which you can do as you please about
performing.”

‘Let's hear it.”

‘When you saw those Indians you were so fright-
ened that you had no idea of their exact number. LI
want you to reconnoiter them and find out just about
how many there are, for you understand how impor-
tant it is that we should know just the strength of
those that are going to be opposed to us.”

Jes’ so, Colonel, but what’s to hinder our count-
ing them as they come up through the village ?”

Colonel Wells smiled before replying.

- “You pretend to be acquainted with Indian ways,
do you. Did you ever know a savage force, especially
if they were lroquois, to give vou a chance to count
them?”

 
fa

“rm | VAbLIY ‘scour. eee 53

“] Silay you are right; I didn’t think of that ;
but havn't I seen them alr eady ”

“Yes ; bat I don't know their number—whether —
there are "fifty or five hundred. They will, no doubt,

make a demand upon us to sur Sees and I can then
tell whether it is best for us to make terms or not.
However, I don’t wish to urge you to the step unless
you are perfectly willing yourself.”

“Oh! Pll go! I'll go!” exclaimed the old man
eagerly, to show that it was not fear that had restrain-
ed him before.

“J don’t want you to perform a duty that I am un-
willing to attempt myself. I wish to go off through
the woods to our right yonder, while you take the
left. When we come back we will compare notes, and
no doubt get.a true idea of our enemics.’

“ But, s’pose, Colonel, they got us both! Heavens
onath! that would never do. What would become of
__ our folks, *specially them thirteen children and grand-
- children of mine?”

“ We musn’t allow ourselves to run into too much
danger.”

“Tn course we don’t expect to run into it, but hose
are we going to hinder it when there are Injins around.
No, sir. Colonel Wells, if I go, you stay, and if you go,
_Istay; but, being as you're rather stiff from your
- wounds, it won't do for you to undertake it.”

“1 am cer tainly willing to do my part, although it
looks somewhat rash for us both to run our heads into
danger.”

“You're right, jes’ so, twon’t never do; I've been As
exercisin’ meself so a catchin’ of them younkers, that

my rheumatiz is all gone, and I feel as if my jints had

been iled.”
“Then be off at. once and be very careful.”
‘Pmyour man?
Josiah Bowles sprang upon the back of his switch-

tailed mare and started off zt once on a rapid Sule 2a

 
    

oe

down the road, intending to conceal his auimal in the
wood, and continue his reconnoisance on foot.

Colonel Wells was attentively observing him, when
ashont from the fort caught his ear, and tur ning his
head he saw his danghter and several other making
exci'eld gestures and pointing toward the woods on
the south. It required but a glance for him to see that
there was good cause for their alarm !

THER VALLEY SCOUT.

CILAPTER IX.
TWO NARROW ESCAPES.

As Colonel Wells turned his head to the right, he

saw three Indians, each with a gun in his hand, in a
crouching position endeavoring to steal in between
him and the fort.

They had already reached such a point as to cut off
his return by the direction in which he had left it.
Should he run at the top of his speed, they coul
easily reach the fort first, and confront him while fully
fifty feet from it.

But the Colonel could not run, as his wounds pre-
vented, and unfortunately he had no'gun with him, so
that vertainly he was in a bad situation, growing
worse and worse each moment, as the tufted heads and
stooping shoulders of the Iroquois could be seen ad-
vancing nearer and nearer the fort each moment.

Colonel Wells took in the situation at a glance and

acted promptly. Instead of turning his face toward
the fort, he ran directly from it nearly in the same di-
rection as that taken by old Mr. Bowles, except that

he turned off from the road and made straight for the -

woods.
This looked as if he were seeking shelter there, but

it wasin reality for a far different purpose, He had

 

  
 

 

  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  

 

 

 

 

 
THR VALLEY scour. 55°

taken scarcely a dozen steps, when a short but deep de-
Glivity, assisted by his own prone position, shut him
out from view. ‘The Mohawks supposing he was run-
uing for the forest, now rose to their feet, and started —
straight toward the point where he had been last seen.
The moment Colonel Wells felt himself free from
observation, he turned his course at right angles and
hurried along the edge of the bank, whizh extended
along the western side of the settlement, and which if
followed would lead him within a hundred yards of
the fort.
Thus it was, that while the breathless spectators in
the fort were watching for his re-appearance beyond
_ the bank and in the margin of the woods, and the In-
_ dians were straining every muscle to reach the spot as _
soon as he, his head rose to view behind the row of
cabins confronting the fort, and he made a gesture.
of silence to his friends, who descried him the very
instant he showed himself.

Unfortunately one of the Iroquois, as he ran across
the intervening space,explained the cutious non-appear
ance of the fugitive in the correct manner; and, as
his-comrades ran on, he turned off and took a diree-
tion parallel with the bank, his eye flitting in advance
of his feet, until he descried his prey to rise to view,
and the two saw each ocher at the same instant.

The exultant Mohawk gave a whoop of delight,
and raising his tomahawk over his head, made at Col.
Wells, who now appreciated the worth of a good pair
of legs, and began hobbling across the open space at
a speed that surprised himself, but which, at the same
time, he could not avoid feeling was painfully slow
when compared with that of his agile-limbed enemy.

It soon became apparent that Colonel Wells and —
the Iroquois would reach the fort at about the same
moment, the superior speed of the redskin making up
for the wide diversity of the distance. he.

It was death to the fugitive to stop, and it looked
very much to himas though it were death to keep on,

 
THE VALLEY scour.

- but the latter course was the only one that offered the
least ray of hope. and so he stuck to it.

The two flying foes converged rapidly. The Iro-
 quois did not care about rushing into the open door of
_ tie fort among the women and “chil iren, as very prob-
ably there might be some strong-minded females there
who would be difficult. to manage 3. and, as they came
within twenty feet of each other, he drew back his

tomahawk with the purpose of burying it in his head ;

hut it was hardly poised and the aim made, when the
ville in the hands of Mary Wells was discharged, and
_ with an ear-s)litting screech tie Iroquois sprang bigh
in air, and fell headlong to the earth.
The next moment the panting, gasping Colonel
Wells fell forward into the arms openut to receive
him, and the strong door was closed and barred be-
hind him.
Now that the commander was safe the intomekt was
- transierred to old Josiah Bowles, who could be seen
_Jeisurely galloping up the road, all unmindful of the ex-
citing scene that had just taken place at the fort.
“The two rekskins, upon discovering the ruse of the
fugitive, had ha ted, and stood wate ching the race with
an eagerness scarcely Jess than that of the spectators
within the fort. Its unexpected termination left them
no alternative, but to make themselves as svaree as
possible in that vicinity, and to attempt to retrieve
their reputation by turning their attention to the
horseman. ;
«© What be them varmints after?” demanded Mrs.
Bowles, who, as may well be imagined, was deeply
interested in the scene.
“J suppose they are going to pay Josiah a visit.”
© What! be they after my old man?’
“J fear they are. but they cannot catch him, as_ he
in run faster than I can, and youseeis mounted on |
his mare.” a
++ Jes’ let em touch him if they dare ‘” said she in-
dignantly, ‘I'll wring every one of their neeka —

 
  

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 

 

THE VALLEY 8COUT.

U—oo—ch! I only wish I had ’em here this minute.
Td teach em manners.” and she shook her clenched
hand in a manner that showed how earnest she was in
uttering the words.

But the matter was now becoming serious. Old
Mr. Bowles had reined his mare down to a walk, and
was proceeding along very cautiously, looking only in
front of him. for the first evidence of the danger, while
the two redskins were running rapidly and silently

along the road, nearing him with almost the same

rapidity that their comrade had overhauled Colonel
Wells in his run for life.

If nothing should oceur to apprise the old man of
this insiduous danger in the rear, it could not fail to
be fatal. It became all-important, therefore, that he
should be apprised immediately ; and while Colonel
Wells was meditating Wpon the best method of doing
this, Mrs. Bowles proved herself equal io the occasion,
and cut the Gordian knot.

Running to the upper part of the building, she
thrast her head through the tray.-door, and shouted: —

“Josrau! Josiau! Look OUT FOR THE VARMINTS BE:
HIND YER !”

That voice would have to be heard for any one to —
appreciate it. Perhaps its penetrating power, in the
case of the horseman, was owing to his familiarity with —
it; for, as it went skurrying through the air, he turn-
ed his head, looked a moment, comprehended hig —
peril, and the next instant, the switch-tailed mare shot —
like a thunderbolt up the road, quickly carrying its r+
der, at Jeast, from all danger in the rear,

  
  

ST

 
   
THE VALLEY scout.

CHAPTER X.
A THRILLING SCENE.

_ At this critical juncture, when the nerves of the lit-
tie garrison were wrought up to the highest pitch, a
_ piercing scream from Mrs. Bowles announced the dis-
covery of some new and fearful danger.

_ “What is the matter ?” inquired several, turning
their heads towards her, when she gasped out:

“Samuel Thomas is missing! he is gone!??

“ Perhaps he is somewhere » tf the building, and you
have not notie-d him during the hurry,” returned Col-
onel Wells in his mild soothing manner.

-**No, I know he isn’t.”

“And how do you know that he is not?” inquired

_ the Colonel, showing a little vexation that this new
perplexity should come upon him, at this abscrb.ng

moment. 5

_ * Because I seen wim gust Now.”

Sey here?”

“ Out among them trees; he is in the top of one of
them and waved his hand at me just now.”

Colonel Wells coolly produced a pocket telescope,

: and asked for more explicit directions of the spot
where the youngster had been seen.

* Yonder in that big tree—the boys is allers climb-_
ing it, and I have forbid him so often—I'll give him
tie bigest trouncing of his life when he comes home.”

“He may never come home,” ventured Mary Wells
in the hope of checking the yolubility of Mrs. Bowles,
but the latter instantly ¢ gave utterance to a series of
terrific shrieks which would have done credit to an
Iroquois Indian. Colonel Wells commanded her rather

 
THE VALLEY SsCOUTP.

sharply to hold her peace, and then directed his tele
scope towards the tree indicated :

The latter was one of those giant spreading oaks,
which are occasionally found in.the forest and which —
look as if they had attained their growth. about the
time the surrounding trees had begun growing. It
being very large and particularly dangerous to climb,
as a matter of course it was a favorite resort for the
young urchins of Wellsburg.

As Colonel Wells carefully scrutinized the tree, he
detected on one of the uppermost limbs the form of a
boy, who, it was natural to suppose was the veritable
Samuel Thomas, who had caused his mother such —
great concern. He sat astride of the limb, swinging
his hat, as if seeking to attract the attention of those
within the fort. Whether he was standing or not
could not be determined, as the distance was too great,
but the probabilities were that he was using his lungs
to the best of his ability.

“Vell be killed! he'll be killed!” wailed Mrs.

~ Bowles, wringing her hands in grief, ‘and then what
will his poor dear father say when he comes back from
fighting under General Washington.” &

“Will you try and restrain your grief,” sternly de-
manded Colonel Wells. ‘ You have excuse for your
fears, but not for endangering our safety thereby.”

“How am I hurting you 1” she demanded rather
spitefully. :

“ We are expecting the appearance of the Indian's |
every minute over the hills, and if our attention is dis-
tracted in this manner, they will make us all pee
before we know it.”

“Yes; and they will come right by where my aar-
ling boy is in the tree. O dear! “O dear !”

Such unfortunately was the case. The oak stoo
but a few rods from the hill over which the Iroqnoi
were prcenentarily expected to come, and it follow¢
that nothing but the worst consequences could resul

Samuel Thomas. was about ten years of age, quite

 
THE VALLEY scout.

bright for one of his years; and, as his grandmother
expressed it, ““knowed a blamed sight more than his
grandfather.” It wasthe common opinion that if he
could be apprised of his danger, he might escape.
— Keen-eyed and sharp witted as the American Indi-
ans proverbially are, it was hardly to be expected, while
inarching against the settlement, they would search
the tree-tops for prey. The shr ‘abbery npon the oak
being quite luxuriant, all he had to do was to lie flat
onthe limb, keep still and watch the fight.
Incase the boy had not expected d: unger, no one
‘could think of any meims by which to warn “him, Any
‘signal made from the house would probably be accept-
ed asa sign of encouragement, for the daring act of
climbing ‘the oak to a greater height than he had ever
done before, while, as has been intimated, the distance
was too great. for the voice to be sent with any assur-
ance that its mission could be understood.

“TJ don’t see as anything can be done,” said Colonel
Wells, as he lowered his telescope, and: placed it on a
stand beside him.
~ “Can anybody run out and tell him? T'll do it if

on §ity 80.”
ate answer was a decided shake of the head.
“Tsay do no such thing. It would be the destruc-
on of yourself and the boy, and would endanger the
safet of us all!”
don't see how it would do that,” was the some-
hat ill-natured response of the old lady
+ We either shall have to shut you out, or keep the
joor unbarred for you. In the first case, you would
quickly gobbled up, and in the second the probabil:
es would be that you would bring a hundred yelling
“Mohawks at your heels to come in “with you.”
+ don’t see any Injins ncr anybody else.”
No; but they are near us, and will appear in a very
ew minutes, Ihave hopes the boy will discover his
ngev in time to take care of himself.”
On! as is pe: stault!” excl ined are Bowles

 
THE VALLEY scout. 61

with anew burst of anger.” “JT remember distinct'y
that I asked him where Samuel Thomas was and he
s.id he seen him plain, and picked: him up and chuck-
ed him into the second story window. O the wicked
man! to tellsucha falsehood! Won't I give it to him
when I see him.”

And she compressed her lips and shook her head i in
a way which signified her earnestness ii the matter.

“Restrain your indignation,” mildly suggested
Mary Wells, who was vexed at this unseemly exhi-—
bition of temper, when it was not known whether her
husband would ever return to her again or not; but —
her lng acquaintance with Mrs. Bowles should have |
taught ber the futility of attempting to TEP aES ae
check upon her ton ue.

“I guess you'd be indignant too, if you had a son
of yours up in that tree, and the Injins comin’ after

him. Gracious, gal! what are you blushing about
so? You may be thankful if ever you have as good”
a boy as that, and I hope he won’t have such a blamed
old fool for a grandaddy as that precious sweet litle
deer has.”

‘J hope not,” mildly remarked Colonel Wells, who
still failing to see anything of his dreaded enemies
coming over the hills, thought he had time fora word
or two with the strong- minded woman at his side.

Mary could not avoid her crimson blushes ; for, like —
every young lady who hada lover, she suspected thar
ail knew her secret and were thinking about it.

“My gracious! I didn't think you would be the
gvandadldy !” exclaimed Mrs. Bowles, somewhat
ubashed. “But, O Mr. Wells, can’t there be any-
thing done for that poor sweet lamb up in the tree?
Must he stay there till the Indians come along -
kill him?”

“As TI remarked a moment ago, Samuel is quite: a
sharp little fellow for one so young.”

‘Yes, he’s got the brains of the whole Bowles’
family,” ‘interrupted the delighted grandmother.

 
  
   

pHi} VALLEY SCOUT.

“ Very probably, and yet he is not particularly over-
tock: d”
On! no, not at all,” was the remark of the old

_1-4y. all unconcious of the left handed compliment then
paid her.

_ ‘*Hrom his elevated position, he will be likely to
_ds-ry the Mohawks long before we do, and he may
descend and reaci the fort in time for us to admit
him.”

“Oh! I do hope so.”

“© We can all join in that wish, and none more fer-
vently than myself. Nothing would grieve me more
than to see your grandson a prisoner among the In-
dians.”

Me purposely avoided saying “killed,” out. of res-
pect for her feelings, although he felt that that would
be the most fitting word.

“He seems excited about something,’ remarked
Mary Wells, who had taken the teleseope of her father,
and was scrutinizing the lad through the small upper
window. “See how he waves his hat, and I think
‘he is shouting something. ”

“ Tf you will maintain absolute silence perhaps we
-may be able to catch his words,” remarked Colonel
Wells. ‘Ihave no doubt, whatever he says, concerns
qa

_ It was easy enough for the older persons to keep
quiet, but not so the younger; they were nervous and
excited as urchins are apt to be, and it required no
little “Sh’ing” before anything approaching silence
could be obtained. Finally at the very moment
when all was still, a terrifie crash was heard in the ccl-
jar, and Mrs. Bowles darted down stairs with the ex-
clamation. ‘that’s George Augustus! Tl give it
to him !”

_ The next instant several tremendous whacks were
heard ; followed by a terrific kicking and yelling, and
then a sudden shutting off of the tumult and the voice
of Mrs. Bowles.

    
 
 

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THE VALLEY scout. 63

“Now listen Colonel Wells, as hard as you want.
Ive got my hand over his mouth and am holding his
head over the churn, which he had just upset. Listen
quick, for itis all I can do to hold his mouth and
legs still. George Augustus is getting very strong.”

“Colonel Wells leaned his head far out the window,
and strained his*hearing to its utmost. He could just
hear the voice of the boy but could not identify his’
words, but he perceived he could make out the por-
tentous word Indians.

At this critical juncture, while all were watching |
and listening with an intentness which cannot be des-
cribed, the stillness was broken by the sharp crack of
a Title, "followed by the instant thud of the bullet, as it
Varied itself in a rafter overhead, passing within an
inch of Colonel Wells’ forehead.

The heads instantly disappeared, the window was
closed, and all took themselves to the port-holes.
where no such danger could be encountered. Mary
Wells had given a slight scream, thinking her father _
struck, but his assurance that ‘he was unharmed was —
quickiy given to the relief of all.

That this well-nigh fatal shot had been fired by an
Jidian, no one doubted ; but where he was concealed
it was impossible to tell. Judging from its eourse
after entering the window, Colonel Wells believed it
came from a clump of bushes lying off from the main.
voad, where at least one redskin must have concealed —
himself and was keeping a close surveilance ups:
the fort.

This shot in one sense was a fortunate one; for
Colonel Wells’ feelings had become wrought upon by
the perilous position of the boy, that he had about —
concluded to unbar the door and allow Mrs. Bowles to —
go forth to warn him of the danger; had he done so,
the recent event proved that she would have assuredly
lost her life, and not benefitted him in the least. The
gun had been probably fired by the survivor of those —

who bad® come so near proving his own destruction,

 
 
  
 
 
   

  

  
   

64 THE VALLEY scour.

and who instead of going back to his people with the
_ main war party, was still lingering on the outskirts of
the clearing, in the hope of obtainins some means of
revenging himself.

This for the time distracted the attention from the
boy in the tree, but when Colonel Wells had a mo-
- ment to collect his thoughts, a new idea occurred,
which greatly changed his opinion of the boy. There
was no longer any doubt but that he was fully aware
of his own danger; thatfrom his elevated perch he
had seen the Indians advancing, and that his excited
motions and shouts were intended to apprise his
friends in the fort of the fact.

If there had been any doubt upon this point it was
removed afew moments later, when the officer look-
_ed from the port-hole, and deseried the youngster go-
ing down the tree with all the celerity possible. He

 

rapidly as a ball would have rolled ; then reaching the
lmmense trunk, he sprang from limb to limb, until
within a dozen feet of the ground, when he dropped
as lightly as a monkey to the earth, and instantly
started at full speed toward the south, opposite the
hills.
‘Why doesn't he come this way?” asked Mrs.
Bowles, who had again ascended the upper story, and
as pecring through one of the loop-holes. “ Why
doesn’t he ran for the house ?”
__ * Because he has too much sense for that.’ ‘replied
Colonel Wells; ‘he knows it would be sure death.
He is taking the wisest course. God assist him.”
_ The eyes which were so intently watching the boy,
as he ran rapidly over the ground, now saw an Indian
‘spring up apparently from the yery earth and start
pursutt. .
© Shoot him! shoot him!” was the involuntary e7-
amation of the now doubly-excited listeners.
«The distance 1s too far,’ he replied, but while he

 

  

  

   
 

  

 
 

ger

was seen to clasp round the limb and slide down it, as

as speaking, he thrust his rifle through tie loop-hole,

    
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
     
   
   
      
   
     
 
   
   
    
 
     
     
     

and §
acros'
whip:
strait

tb

e
n
ha

.

 
“(HE VALLEY scout. S 65

and sighted at the painted Indian, running so rapidly
across his field of vision. The next instant the sharp
whip-like crack broke upon the air, and all eyes were
strained.

‘“‘ You missed him!” gasped several.

“No, you didn’t; see, he is hit.”

“Fe is limping.”

“Te will fall ”

* No, he is only hurt a little.”

Beyond question the redskin was struck, as he
could be seen limping painfully along, as he persevered
in his race. One of the old gentlemen who had the

reputation of possessing extraor dinary eyesight, Ce- —

dared that he saw the ball hit him—that is, he saw

the evidence of it. A sudden slight spring upward,

and the involuntary throwing of the arms were his

proof. :

But however this might be there remained the lam-

- entable fact that the Troqnois had not'been disqualified
from continuing his pursuit, and in anguish of spirit —
Mrs. Bowles now called upon several others to fire at
the savage before it was’ too late.

A couple of the old men heeded her, and did their |
best, but the miscreant was too far off, and all knew
that he was safe from barm.

Meantime the chase had become fearfully exciting.
The boy had aimed for a corner of the wood about a
hundred yards distant, and seemed to be running
with the feeling that if he could reach this he was
safe.

He was fleet of foot, but of course could not com-

_ pare with the redskin, who, no doubt, had practised a
score of years more than the youngster ; but with the
advantage of the wound inflicted, a slioht ray of hope —
dawned upon the boy, and fully sensible of it, he work-
ed as a little fellow never did.

* Run, Samuel! Run, Samuel!” shouted Mrs.
Bowles, unable to restrain her feclings. ‘* Come thi
way and we'll pepper the sarpint.”

 
     
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

 

THE VALLEY scour.

“Tt was the hope of Colonel Wells that the lad
would take such a course as to bring his pursuer within
range of their guns, although he feared this would

only complicate matters, as, in case the Indian was
shot, no doubt the boy would have been riddled by a
dozen of his enemy's friends. But the youngster kept (
straight ahead, and had passed two-thirds of the dis-

tance, with a prospect of reaching the wood, when a
sad and unforeseen accident occurred.

At this juncture, Mary Wells, who was intently
watching every movement with the telescope, saw the
boy turn his head and glance over his shoulder at his
pursuer. As he did so he caught his foot and stum-

bled headlong. When he arose the Indian was upon
~ chim, and had him by the arm.

_ Mrs. Bowles turned her head unable to see the child
_ killed, and Mary Wells dropped the telescope at her.

feet and covered her face with her hands, while a wail

went up from all within.

“ He is killed! He is killed!”
~ But Colonel Wells, who had never once removed.
his eyes, now made the gratifying announcement.

“Ve is not killed; he is a prisoner; the Indian is

Jeading him away !”

Little time was given the garrison to rejoice, for

almost at the same instant one of them called out that

_ the Indians were coming from the woods.

 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
   

THE VALLEY SCOUT.

CHAPTER XI.
A SUMMONS.

At this point it is proper that we shonld give some
idea of the strength of the party gathered in the fort,

In the absence of old Josiah Bowles, there were but
four men, all three of whom were older and feebler
than the Colonel. Although counting as the effective
force of the garrison, they did not amount to much,
as they had lost in a great measure their skill in aim-
ing and firing, and their strength and activity were
not equal to the sudden emergencies which are always
sure to rise on such occasions.

There were ten boys, ranging from ten to fifteen
years. Some of these were quite expert with the rifle,
and formed the mainstay of the garrison. Several of
the women were also skilled in the handling of the
weapon, Colonel Wells’ own daughter having proved
her dexterity. Mrs. Bowles was the only strong-
minded female in the party. A dozen like her no
doubt, would have been a valuable acquisition, could
they have been kept under control.

While all the party were looking for the Indians to
come over the hills, where old Mr, Bowles had first
perceived them, they made their appearance in the
edge of the wood, where they halted, as if to consn't
together. In the meantime our friends were watching
them with the most intense interest.

In the course of ten minutes, a file of Indians march-_
ed,out to view in close order, and made a cireuit of fit
ty feet, then turned and went into the woods. ‘They

cept coming out from among the trees and going in_
again, until Bowles called out: eS

  

 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
     
 
 
 

  
  
      
   
   

£
THE VALLEY. SCOUT.

_ ‘*Weavens o’nath! how many are there? I have
counted five hundred already.”
Colonel Wells smiled.
“You have counted them over eight or ten times.”
Their looks showed thatthey did not understand }
him. |
“JT have seen that trick played before.
ans make a circle that pass around in the woods and \
thencome outagain, When you see them do that, |,
it is a sure sign of weaknees.”
“ They're a pert set of scamps,” was the comment
of Bowles upon this performance. ;
The Iroquois, doubtless, judgirg that they had given
a suitable impression of their numbers and strength,
now took their station along the trees again, where
they could be detected talking with each other, gesti-
culating, pointing toward the fort, and walking back
and forth, in a manner that showed they had very lit-
tle fear of those in the fort.
Finally, Colonel Wells, who was peering through a

- loop-hole, saw one of the Indians walk out into open
view; and, holding a bow in his hand, draw the string
dack until the arrow-head touched his other hand.
‘The next instant the arrow rose in a swift, beautiful

parabola, and with a dull thud, was heard to strike up-
on the reof above their heads.

_ & What a set of fools!” exclaimed Mrs. Bowles, who
had witnessed the performance from her loop-hole,
and did not understand its significance. ‘ What do

they want to shoot bows and arrows when they've got
guns? ButIs’pose they want to save their ammuni-_
tion.”

_ As the missile came sailing through the air, Colonel

Wells fancied he detected something beside the usual

“feathery appendaze, and he now hastened above and
carefully opened the trap-door. There, within arm's
reach, stuck, the arrow, and to the reed dangled a tiny
bit of paper.
It required but a moment to withdraw the arrow

*

 
  
  
    
     
   

 
  
 

THE VALLEY SCOUT. oo ae

rom the wood and detach the piece of paper which
was open, and read :
“ Colonel Wells ishereby summoned to surrender
at once, and unconditionally, under pain of being given
over to the Iroquois, under my command. The Iro-
quois, as Colonel Wells must be aware, number over
five hundred, and a prolonged resistance will so exas-
_perate them, as to place them beyond my control. . I
. trust I may therefore hope, for the sake of humanity,
there will be no delay in complying with this demand.
A. Gasrarp, CoLonet.

  

  

 

    
  
 
 
   
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
  

\

 
   
 
 
  
  
   

Colonel Wells held the paper and examined and re-
read it several times. The handwriting was very band-
- some, and it seemed as if written with asmall piece of
Mired chalk. It looked somewhat famaliar, but he did
| not recollect ever to have heard of the writer's name. —
Jt was asource of pleasure, however, to know that he
was dealing with one of his own race.
_ . The officer did not hesitate in making his reply, it
as: pe
-* Colonel Gaspard is informed that his summons to
‘surrender has been received and duly considered.
| Colonel Wells cannot understand what cause there is.
J for this peaceable settlement to be attacked by a band
of Mohawk Indians, under the leadership of a man of
ducation and refinement. Sarprising asis the fact,
¢ have not been forgetful that it might occur, and we
renot unprepared. Colonel Wells does not chaose to
vast; but if Colonel Gaspard doubts our ability to de-
| fend our hearthstones, he is invited to test the matter; —
nd, if he chooses so to do, he may march his Iroquois
Land cut the woods again, under the delusion that he
nnot be detected, if each of them attempts to pass
aself off for a half dozen of his people. Colonel Gas-
d is informed further that no similar summons will
considered for a moment. oe Sn
s ©. Wexis, Coroner Commanpixe. _

 
    
  
   
       
 
   
   
  

  

  
 
THE VALLEY sCourT,

As there were no means of sending this back to the
Woods, Colonel Wells fastened 5 to asmall stone that
happened to be in the honse, and flung it as far out in
front of the fort.as possible. It struck a hundred feet
from the building, and almost immedi: itely an Indian
advanced, picked it up and carried it back to the
~ woods, where “ Colonel Gaspard,” whoever he was, no

doubt, digested its contents fully.

Colonel Wells was watching from his elevated posi-
tion, the effect of this reply, ~ when his bright-eyed
daughter touched his elbow.

“ What is it, sis ?” :

« There is some one making signs to us from behind
the fort.”

* You are keeping a bright look out there ?”

“Yes; but i think this is Mr. Bowles. He seems
anxious to attract the attention of some one.’

“ Well, do you keep a sharp eye upon these red fel-
lows over there by the wood, while I try and make
out what it all means. If you see anything unusual,
call me at once.”

The daughter promised obedience, and Colonel
Wells passed over to the other side of the fort, and.
looked through the loop-hole. Behind a stump, about
a hundred yards distance, he saw a crouching form,
which required but a second glance to identify_as be-
longing to old Josiah Bowles. There -was no inter-
veuing buildings nor shelter. so that he was fearful of
approaching nizher, antil he could learn wh ther those
withia the building were apprised of his approach or

not. ;
It so happened that there was not a single opening
in the lower put of the fort, except.the loop-ho'es —
pierced for defensive purposes. The single upper win-
dow was too high to be reached, without assistance.
Colonel Weils was reflecting upon the best metho lt
of commuanicatins with hs friend, when, as before the
gentle wife of the gentleman himself came to his 1¢-

 
THE VALLEY scout. Tk

Placing her mouth to one of the loop-holes, she
called out ina suppressed scream.
i‘ You old foul, yo roid to the front, and we'll a you
ir ian

CHAPTER XIL

ANOTHER MESSAGE EROM THE Woops.

The Troquois as yet had made no attempt to sur-
round the building. No doubt they deemed it nnne-
s cessary, as it was yeasonable to suppose that any of
_-@s the settlers were on the outside.
It therefore only remained for Mr. Bowles to be
expeditious, and there was little fear but whathe could
effect an entrance into the fort without molestation
from the redskins,

Upon hearing the voice of his spouse, he sade
atcly straightened up, as if it had infused new life
into him and began advancing toward the house. He
was aware of the point where the Indians were con-

© gregated. and as may be supposed, he took good care
to keep the building between him and them.
_ At the same time Colonel Wells and Mrs. Bowles
descended to the lower floor to let him in, while a
third person remained at the Joop-hole, to notify all
when the proper moment was at hand to remove the
fastenings.
- “Ve is coming round the building,” came from
above.

‘The next moment the door was drawn carefully i ins.
ward, and the slim body of old Mr. Bowles glided
within,
~ “Shut the door quick!” he called, throwing his i
Ae against it and torcing it to.

te

 
THE VALLEY scovUT.

Heavens o’nath, you’ve got my fingers fast,”

screeched Mrs. Bowles.

To relieve the unfortunate lady necessitated another
delay, during which, amid her loud wailings, Colonel
Wells was sensible that his daughter wis calling some-
thing from above.

The door was hardly secured .when there came a
shock against it, that fairly shook the brilding.

: Now you that have guns, shoot every rekskin you
can see!” called out Colonel Wells as he ran above.

Running to the loop-holes, which commanded the
lower part of the house, (the e second stor v1 rojecting
over the first, after the manner of early block houses,)
he thrust his gun through and discharged it among
the yelling miscreants. His daughter “did the same
almost simultaneously while, ere the assailants could
comprehend whither the shots had come, two of the
aged men repeated the action.

This effectually scattered the redskins, they retreat-
ing nearly as rapidly as they advanced, and bearing

their dead and wounded with them, including hin

who had run the foot race with Colonel Wells.
“Tam glad they have removed him,” said Mary,
as she began re-loading her gun. “Itisa a dreadful
sight to see him stretched out there ”
_ “No doubt, but hardly as dreadful as the sight of
— your father ; and had it not been for you, we two-
would have changed places,” and the parent looked
with fond _eyes upon his child and his wife, who stood
with gun in hand ready to do her duty. :
“T believe we're all ’yer,” called out Mr. Bowles, ag
he came toiling up stairs. ‘*ITd been up before but

_ Tye been counting over my children and grandchil-

~ dren and couldn't make but ‘twelve, but one found
_ other in the maple syrup down cellar.”

~The Colonel had glanced through the loop-hole, and —
saw that the Iroquois had withdrawn to the cover ol
the wood, He eee to the old man,

 
THE VALLEY scour.

“T haven't had time to congratulate you Josiah, ou
your safe return. I was quite anxious about you.”

“ Ah! but you see I was on the back of the switch-
tailed mare, and if she can't outrun a long-legged
Mohawk any day, I'll eat her.”

“ What have you done with her?”

“J run her down into the thicket back of the hill,
where she'll stay till she starvesif I don’t go after
ler.”

“Or some Indian doesn’t find her.”

The old man shook his head.

“Tt would bé’a bad find for them; for the way
she’d use them teeth and heels of her'n, would make
*em glad enough to let her alone.”

“I suppose you were unable to learn anything new
about the redskins.”

“Yes, I didn’t see nothin’ of ’em till I got nearly
hum, when I cotched sight of ’em in the woods, and
you seen for yourself how I had to sneak round to get
ns”? a

* Of course.” :

“But, Colonel,” said the old man brightening up,
“T had a raal queer adventure, something about it £
don’t exactly understand.”

‘- Let's hear, and be quick, for we musn’t keep our
eyes off those gentlemen outside.”

“Why, arter I’d hitched my mare to tree in the
thicket, and had come out and was stealiug through
the woods, so as to getround behind the house, I hap-
pened to look round, and there, not mor’n a hundred
feet off stood two big Injins lookin’ right straight, at
me. never saying a word nor offering to touch me.”

“© Wal, you'd better say I felt a little shaky about
then. I stared at them a minute, and just so true as
_ you stand there, I seen one of ’em grin almost round
to his ears. I didn't wait any longer, but started off
_as fast as I could tear, when one of ’em yelled out,
‘Don’t be scart, Josiah! hold on!’ He said some-
mning else but I couldn't understand, and [ dide’ t axe

 
4 3 THE VALLEY scoUur. i

him to say it over agin. Hang me, but I never seen
a redsin before that could talk Kuglish so well.”

“No; tits what beats me; they both had guns,
and could have Ict daylight through me, if they did not
cho se to ran; but IT looked back, and tie last thing
Tseen of em they were standing there grinning and
bawl ng fo me”

The experience was certainly :ather singular; but
Colonel Wells was about to suggest a clue to its maa-
ing, when his daugiter called “outs

“Tacre's something wrong, futher! they are making

ra ly to try some other. plan.”

In an instant every loop-hole was covered by an
eye. The next moment from among the trees shot
outan arrow, that made the same hig: isweep ti rough
tho air as the other, and was had to strike and stie’x
with a dull thud upon the roof above.

‘The messenger which this bore was in the shape of

a piece of burning tow, twisted around the barb. It
iad seareely struck when it was followed by another

and another uutil it looked as if the Iroquois were
cele'rating the Fourth of July by means of ro-kets.

Several of those within expressing coneern at the
near shape their danger had taken, Colonel Wells

said:

* They can’t do any harm; every log in the roof is
too green to burn, and they may rain down. arrows
until it is covered, without any danger.”

Nevertheless, he deemed it best to ascend to the

-Jook-out with a bucket of water, that in case he was
too sanguine in his calculations, he might repair his
mistake before it was too late.

The first object that caught his eye was an arrow
imbedded in the trap door itself, and having a piece of
paper wrapped aronnd it. Disengaging this he drew
it within, aud with feelings which may well be ima-
gined, read the following :

“Tn wx Frrenps: Keep a good heart—don’t think

 
   

THE VALLEY scout. 1

of surrendering—less than one hundred Mohawks—I
have a friendly Indian with me and hope soon to cre-
ate a diversion in your favor—your prospect is good
—love'to all” .

. “Epwarp SUTHERLAND.”

 

CHAPTER XIII.
TUE SIEGE.

Colonel Wells read the letter over again very care-
fully and then glanced around at the roof. It was
bristling like a porcupine, but he saw with a satisfac-
tion which cannot be expressed it was fire-proof, ‘al-
though the wisps of tow were burning and crackling
in a half dozen places.

Upon the first sign of this coming storm, metas
before, he had covered every portion of the roof with
| green saplings, so full of sap that they would have ex-
; ) tinguished a blazing furnace, if thrown within. Of
2 | course then it was out of the question for them to take
fire.

Convinced then that all was right, he decended and
» joined his friends. Enjoining silence, he stated the

manner in which he had received the note and then —
read it‘aloud. anding it to his daughter he asked :

Mary is that a genuine or counterfeit signature?”

The girl blushed to Ler very temples as she examin-
ed the bit of paper.

—. Sakes o'massy, how the gal is a blushin’!” called
out Mrs. Bowles. “If anybody knows Ed. Suther-
Jand’s writin’, she orter, any way ; for she’s got’nough
of it. I don’t keer, he’s a likely boy any way, that
was aller’s good to his mother afore she died, and Ma-
ay might go further and fare worse.”

As Mrs. Bowles uttered these words, in the sharp:

 

    
  
  
    

 

 

 
THE VALLEY SCOUT.

est of tones, poor Mary felt as if she would sink
through the floor. She knew that all eyes were upon
her, and she held the paper, consequenily, much longer

than she otherwise would have done, in order that

she might have some excuse for not confronting that
_ battery levelled against her.

“Do you think it is his writing ?” asked the father,
as he reached out his hand for the note.

“Yes, sir!” was all she could find voice to reply,

as she handed it back to him.

“Tam elad ofthat, for a friend in the enemy’s
camp is wortha dozen here.”

“That explains your adventure,” added Colonel
Wells, addressing Mr. Bowles. ‘:That person ad-
dressing you by name was Edward Satherland.”

“But he looked like an Injin.”

“Of course: he would not dare to appear among

them unless he was thoroughly disguised.,’

“Well now ain’t that queer?” rem: irked the old

mah, with a pleased expression. ‘ Who'd ever
thought of its being him?”

“ Probably no one.”

* But he had an Injin with him.”

«Yes; he refers to one—a friendly one, who will
prove of great advantage to us—Heigho !”

_ This exclamation was caused by the crack of a rifle
on the outside, and the whiz of a bullet, which enter-
ed one of the port holes, and passed within a hair's
breadth of Colonel Wells’ face. : “

“ Look out, my friends,” said he, “some of: those’
Indians shoot with remarkable skill, and we shall be

_ hit if we are not careful.”

Upon looking out, it was seen that the hae of
burning arrows had ceased, probably because the red-
skins saw their impotence ; but, they had opened a
‘rattling fire upon the buildings, no doubt aiming at
the loop-holes, in the hope of striking some of those

“within.
The flashes of ne guns could be plainly detected : as

 
 

THE VALLEY SCOUT,

   
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
    
  
   
  
  
    
 
   
   
   

they fired from among the trees, and every bullet ei-
ther entered within the building itself or was buried
‘in the massive logs
“I think Josiah, they should not do all the shoot-
ing,” remarked Colonel Wells, as he examined the
priming of his gun. and prepared to return the fire.
“So do I,” was the reply ofthe old man as he imi-
tated hisactions. Several others, including one or two
of his females, did the same, when before they could
make their aim, Mary who was watching keenly ali
that was going on called ont:
“Wait a moment, father; one of them is making a
sional to us.”
The Colonel looked out and saw an Indian in his
war-paint, waving and swinging his hand toward them.
It required but a moment to understand what he
meant.
“ That signal,” remarked the Colonel, “is intended
as a tantalizing gesture. I can soon answer bim,”
The eye which ran rapidly along the rifle barrel was
true, and when the trigger was pulled, the defiant Iro-
qnois, with a screech, sprang high in the air, and feli
lifeless.
The others now began firing, as fast as they could
Joad and aim, at the miscreants who were driven to
cover and compelled to be more cautious in their oc-
cupations.
* Wecan hold no parley with them,” said Colonel
Wells, as he drove the ramrod down his gun barrel.
“They are alt. our lives, and the best thing we can
do is to take .s many of theirs as possible.”
At this juncture, Mrs. Wells who was acting as sen-
tinel at the rear of the house, called out that a party of
Indians were advancing in that direction. The Colo-
nel ran across the 100m and looked out.
“Let them come, and do what they can; butI may
as well let them know that we have seen them. aH :
Pointing his gun ont, he discharged it with good
| effect among the seore. who were ee cautiously :
98 : THE VALLEY scour.

over the gronnd which Mr. Bowles had traversed a
short time previous. The savages were panic-struck
at the startling proof that they were seen, and imme-
diately broke for cover, one of their number limping
in such amanner as to show that the bullet had not
failed to accomplish, in a measure, the wishes of him
who aimed it.

As it was prudent to keep the Indians as far away
as possible, Colonel Wells called two or three of his
friends to his assistance, and they blazed away at every
head that could be seen.

But a new danger developed itself. The asset
finding itimpossib'e to fire the fort, now turned their
attention to the houses nearest to it. The smoke issn-
ing from the roof and upper windows told how
completely they had succeeded, and a few moments
later, it all burst out in a flame.

But Colonel Wells had not seen a military experi-
ence of thirty years, to allow so obvious an expected
danger to overcome him. In the town of Wellsburg,
city lots did not commanda very high figure at the
time of wich we speak, and he had taken particular
care that his house should not be constructed in dan-
gerous proximity to that of his neighbors.

Still he watched the progress of the fire with some
solicitude, as there was quite a breeze blowing. Thé
logs of his house became very hot, and more than once
he felt more alarm than he: was willing to acknowl-

edge to those around him.

 
THE YALLEY scout.

 

CHAPTER XIV.

MASTER BOWLES.

   
 

Having devoted considerable space in another por-
tion of our story to master Samnel Thomas Bowles,
grandson of the venerable gentleman, who has figured
quite extensively in these pages, and having left him
in rather dangerous circumstances, it is bnt proper
that he should receivd somewhat further attention at
our hands,

The experience of this boy is a warning to all lads
against disobeying the injunctions of those having au-

thority over them, In the face of his grandmother’s
positive prohibition, he stole away that morning into
the woods for a ramble, and ventured fully a mile up
the stream, to which reference has been made in an-
other place, before he thought of returning. When he
did so, it was past noon, and impelled by visions of his
wrathful ‘grandmother, he made all haste until he
reached the large oak tree. standing on the edge of
the clearing, Here he paused awhile, debating upon
the best method of stealing into the house unobserved,
Being unable to decide the question, he thought a so-
lution micht be reached by climbing into the tree.

He was quickly given an idea of the trouble, by the
sight of Colonel Wells flying at the top of his speed
-with the Mohawks in pursuit

“ Golly nation! there’s something the matter,” was

his conclusion. I do helieve the Indians that we have

'— heard so much about have come. Wonder whether
 they’re after me.”

 

wae

ww

 

 

 

 

But at this juncture, he cast his eye towards the

hill, and descried a large number of painted men com-

 
Neegpae ter oe

   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
     
  

80- egy re WHE VAL GNY. SCOUT,

ing along the edge ot the wood and over the road.
He comprehended the danger at once, and unmindtal
_ of his own safety, clomb to ; the highest limb, swung
his hat and shouted at the top cf his voice,

* Fasten the doors and winde’s! Forty hundred thou-
sand million of Injins is comingas hard as tuy can
tar! :

Tle continued his, frantic demonstration until con-
vinved that he attracted attention, when he turned his
head, and for the first time became aware that he had
been seen by the Indians, and that one of them was
stealing rapidly along in a crouching position toward
him.

The manner in which he slid down the limb, was fa-
tal to his pantaloous, and shocking to the nerve of any
who could have witnessed the movement.

We have given an account of his flight towards the

woods. his fall and his capture by the Indians, from
which point, we will follow him until some idea is
given of his situation and prospects.
- That the Mohawk who was limping from a wound
in his leg from Colonel Weils’ rifle, did not tomahawk _
him on the spot, was one of the curious facts whica are —
frequently recorded of this people, and can only be ex-
nee in the supposition, that some whim seized the
captor to dispose differently of him.

-Admonished by the dropping shots from the fort,

and by the twanging pain in his limb, that he was not
entirely beyond the reach of dan: oer, he hurried away
into the wood, hustling and jerking the boy until he
_ sereamed pit with agony.
“Shut up! me kill!” admonished the savage, bran-
dishing his tomahawk over his head, no doubt anxious
to sink it into his brains. Thus we rned, the lad sup-
pressed his outeries, although more than: ouce he suf-
fered excruciating pains

"The Mohawk hustled him threugh the woods, fre-
qriently hurling him against the trees, and continually

iaicring impreeations in broken English. as though

 

   

 
   
 
 
   
  
   
 
 
   
   
 
    
   
 
 

 
   

 

THE VALLEY SCOUT. Sie =

inspired with a demoniac hate against the helpless
boy. :
The latter had his mind continually full of projects of
excape, but young as he was, he was old enough to see
tl at he was powerless to do anything, and he wisely
forbore irritating his captor, who, it seemed, could not
be ome much more enraged than he already was.

As the main war-party advanced over the hill at this
juncture, the Indian made all haste to join them, go-
ing so rapidly, in spite of his wounded leg, that
his prisoner more than once was on the point of drop-
ping from exhaustion. ;

When the savage arrived among his friends, he
soon Giscoyered what a difficult task he had on hand,
to assist in the assault upon the fort and retain his
prisoner at the same time. Te decided, however.
that the best thing to do was to put him out of the
way without delay.

At this opportune moment, Peqawaski leaped for-
ward, stayed the uplitted arm and said in the Indian
tongue:

« Let him alone.”

“ IIe is the son of the Yangese.”

- “:T1e is too young; the ra‘tlesnake has not yet gain-
| ed his fangs,” was the flowery language of the Indian.
: But, if we slay him he will never sting.”

“ Pegawaski lias lost | is child s h» fell by the hands of
the Ddlawares. Peqawaski will take him for his son.”

To this arrangement the other demurred, and claim-

   

 

 

 

ed the boy by right of capture; but the latter recog-
nized his triend, and running to him, embraced his —
2 knces. ;
st save me, Peqawaski; that bad man wants to
e  killme! Save me and [ will give you all my play-—
pe things. Don’t let him hit me with his tomahawk!”
: _ Peqawaski did not intend that the boy should recog.”
re- nize bim, as it might interfere with his plan of saving -

 

We him, as well as with other schemes.

  
 
    
 

  

THE VALLEY scout.

Pejawaski did not look down at the boy as he clung
to hin, but confronted his opponent.

“Ife :eeks me, not you.”

* But he is mine”

Simultaneously they drew their hunting knives and
glared into each othe:’s eyes, with the evil look of pu-
_ gilists previons to encounter. Peqawaski threw the

boy behind him where he would be fie? from hurt
during the encounter.

The two would have closed in dead!y combat, had

it not been for the appearance of Colonel Gaspard, ihe
commanding officer, who had the reputation of pos-
— £essiny an irritable temper.

«What is the meaning of all this?” he demanded
in a fury, as he strode forward towards the combat-
ants, forcing them back with his outstretched arms,
“TIive we not foes enough in front without you two
fight'ng in the rear?”

“ Peqawaski seeks to take from me the young wolf
I have captured.”

© Metawanket wishes my son who flies from him

and co:ncs to me,” replied Peqawaski.
© What have you to do with his son?” asked the
Colonel angrily.
 * Peqawaski lies ; he wishes to take him from’ me
and make him his own son.”

“ Where is the youugster?” asked the Colonel,
somewhat bewildered at the conflicting testimony.

Ile turned to make search, when it: was found that
Master Samuel Thomas Bowles had taken leg bail.

    
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
     
   
   
THR VALLEY scour.

CHAPTER XV.
THE MEETING IN THE WOOD.

When the Frenchman and Indians looked about
and saw nothing of the subject of dispute, they stood
a few moments as if in doubt what to do.

“One of you hunt him up and hold him uutil we
are over this fight when [ will decide the matter,”

Inasmuch as Colonel Gaspard did not specify who.
should fetch hack the boy, Metawauket thought he
was tlre one meant and immediately started, aud was
followed instantly by Peqawaski.

“ Stop!” thundered Colonel Gaspard, “ I have seen
enouch of this tomfvolery.”

« But my son will escape,” said Peqawaski.

«Jf Lhad ason who wanted to run away from me,
I would let him do so.’

* [fe is a white wolf!” said Matawanket.

“Let him go,” said the Colonel; “ we shall find litre
again, and if we don’t-it will’ mi ake little difference.”

“The two Mohawks could do nothing but obey him,
which they did with rather a poor grace, as they |
glanced angrily at each other. :

By this time Master Bowles had gone perhaps three
hundred yards when he began to look for some suita-
ble tree to climb, when he hit ona lurge oak.

He paused abruptly in consternation, for there be-
fore him stood a person arrayed in all the savage para-
phranalia of paint and costume. Bat as he stood
transfixed, gazing on the terrible being before him, it
struck him that there was something familiar in that
_ hideously-bedaubed countenance. S

“You look frightened, ” he finally said. ‘ What
are oh afraid of, Sammy ?”

 
THE VALLEY Scoumt,

“O Ed Sutherland is that you! I thought you
was another of those dreadful Injins.”

“Do T look like one?” ;

“J should think youdo. You have'nt turned Mo-
hawk, have you?”

sy Only. for a little while to give our friends a lift.
But how is it that you are here at this time 2”

This was done in a few moments, when our here
proceeded to question the boy regarding his friends.

‘So you see Sammy, this all comes from disobey-
ing your grandmother. ”

© Yes, ” replied the youngster, “I hadn’t oughter
done it.”

“ But I won’t scold you, as I have no donbt Mrs.
Bowles will do enough of that when this blows over.”

*That’s so, and a blamed sight more than there's
any need of I wish you'd talk to her and get her otf
jawin’ so much.”

“Ym afraid it wouldn’t do much good, Sammy.
The best thing you can do is to be as chedient as you
can to her.”

“No use’o that; she’s bound to jaw. If I’s grand-
father, I'd wallup her.”

“Put, tut, don’t talk in that manner; she is old
and rather odd in her ways. Try and be a better boy.”

‘Vil try,” was the cheerful response.

“Now Sammy, it is getting late in the afternoon,
and our folks are in rather dangerous quarters”

“Jo you think they ll get killed?” interrupted the
youngster, with considerable concern,

“T hope not; but you hear the guns; they haye to
fight, and Peqawaski and I must help them. ce

‘Can't I do something, too?”

“You can do nothing at all and will only be in the
way.”

“Then I'll stay out of the way.”

“Just what I wan't you co do. The woods are full
of Indians, and if you stay here, like as not they will
come upon you, when J have no doubt they will toma-

 
    
   
  
 

   
   
   
   
   
  
 
   
 

THM VALLEY 8COUF.. s . 8B

hawk you. You have been very fortunate in getting
off as you Wave, and there is no probability of suey
a thing happening again.” :

“J was just looking up into the tree, to find a good
place to hide, when T seen you and yon almost seart
the life out of me. Wouldn't it be a good plan for me
to go up there?”

‘It will, provided you don’t go to the top and
swing your ‘hat and shout and yell as you did awhile
avo, Which came so near proving the death of you.”

“ No fear of my doing that.”

«© Then up with you, and lose no time about it.”

The boy ascended the tree as nimbly as a monkey,
and when safely perched among the branches, w as‘to-
tally invisible from below.

“ Be careful and remain there,” called out Suther-
land, as he moved away,

 

CHAPTER XVI.

  
 

AN ARRIVAL.

 
 
 
 

We left Colonel Wells somewhat anxiously watch-
ing the power of the flames, of the adjoining build-
ing. A few minntes’ scrutiny convinced him that
there was no’ danger from this source, and he
- drew a great sigh of relief, ;

Fire has always been a powerful and ‘dreadful ally -
of the Indian in making his attack upon the white set-
-tlement, and many astoutly contested battle has been —

decided in this manner, where nothing else could -
_ prove of avail. 2

-Riturning to his post above, Colonel Wells inatruct.

ed all those. who had rifles to shoot whenever they
caught a glimpse of an Indian, for their safety mani-

     
         
     
        
  

    

   
    

  
 
  

88 : THE VALLEY scour,

 
   

  

festly depend upon their crippling the power of the as-
Aailants all they could. =

The contest now assumed a new phase. Every few
seconds, there would be the sharp crack ofa gun from
one of the loop-holes, responded to by a flash and _re-
port from the woods. Occasionally a bullet whizzed
into one of the crevices and buried itself in the wall
behind. Several narrow escapes occured, but provi-
dentially no one was hurt. When an eye looked out,
it generally squinted along the rifle barrel, which so
filled up the orifice, that it was certainly an extraordi-
nary chance return shot that could make their positions
dangerous. When re-loading, they were caretul to
screen their bodies, so that, ifa ball did enter, it could
not injure them.
While Colonel Wells stood in the: look-out, peering
‘autiously around him, the familiar thud told him
that something had struck directly behind him. A
glance showed that the very thing he was expecting
was there; but as he read, his heart sank:
“Dear Friends: Matters begin to look bad. The
Mohawks, who are commanded *by a renegade French.
man, have been reinforced by over a hundred Iro-
quois. From signs that [ sec, I think the critical mo-
iment will come about midnight, when they intend to
overwhelm you. Stand firm, and don’t sleep a wink,
We shall attempt our diversion just before midnight.
Iam cheered by one thing—my Indian friend bas
found several other good fellows among the new arri-
vals, so we shall have quite a respectable party, buta
still not enough. If you hear an Indian give three
faint knocks at your door, after it is fairly dark, let
him in at once He will want two or three men, and
a number of rifles to come back with him. If you can
possibly spare them do so, for with them I am almost
sure our plan will succeed. Master Bowles is safe, I
have hadhim in the woods, where he can’ easily be
found when this matter is settled. Be 8?

     
 
    
   

  

    
  
 

   
 
 
 
  
 

    
    
 
    
 
 
  
 

   
  
  
 
     
    
   
  
 

  

   
 
    
  
 

  
 
 
 
     
 

   
 

  
    
    
  
   
   

  

   
  

 
    

TH VALLEY scour. ee

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
  

This contained important imformation surely, and
the lust sentence especially sent a thrill of joy throngh
every heart. Mrs. Bowles gave a slight shriek of joy,
but other important business claimed their attention.

Owing to the gathering darkness, the firing be-
tween the two hostile parties now ceased entirely ;
and, confident that all danger had abated for a few
hours, Colonel Wells advised the females to prepare
supper, and to stow their children away for the night.

This was speedily done. No doubt, the surround-
ing circumstances made the blessing invoked take the
form of an earnest invocation to the Great Being, in
which all responded fully and earnestly.

A point in favor of the besieged was now observed.
There was quite a bright moon in the sky, sufficient,
to make the dark line of woods visible, and reveal the
approach ofasingle Indian, no matter how insiduously
he advaneed. This wonld enable the garrison to
make their aim good, and prevent the consummation
of those artful schemes, which are always sure to take
shape in the brains of the copper-colored dogs on such
occasions. :

Colonel Wells placed his sentinels, two in number,
at the sides of the building with orders to shoot every-
thing they saw move, nv matter whether it resemb'ed
a pig, dog, log, or bush. These artifices were so com- _
mon that he was emphatic upon the point.

“tte made one exception, however. Ie told them ~
if they saw a savage adyauce straight toward them,
making asignal with his hand, they should restrain
heir fire, as there was good reason to believe that the
friendly Indian whom they were expecting would re-
veal himselfin this manner.

Cclonel Wells took his own position in the rear of
- thehonse, for he was pretty positive their visitor

would make his appearance at that point, so as to es- —
“eeape the observation of the hostile Mohawks. a
_ © He had been in his position ecarcely a half hour, —

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
       
   
   
   
   
       
88 Re es THE VALLEY scout

when old Mr. Bowles uttered an exclamation, and dis-
charged his gun at the same instant.

‘What now ? asked Colonel Wells, turning his
head but not changing his position.

“J sp’iled a devilish contrivance that time!” he an-
swered, proceeding to reload his gun by the dim light
in his room.

“ What shape did it take!”

“One of them grunters—great, big, slab-sided hog,
poking his nose along the ground, and walking as
though he had to hitchup his breeches at every step

he took.”

“That's richt: knock over all such that you see.”

Colonel Wells concluded that that portion of the
fort was as safe as it could be under present circum-
stances, and therefore devoted himself to his own du-
ties.

Looking across the open space in the rear of the
house, he saw a tall figure come out from the woods,
andrun lightly toward him. Convinced that it was
his friend, he descended to the lower floor, undid all
the fastenings except one, and then placed his ear so as
to listen.

Virst a faint footfall, then three rapid knocks, distinct
and unmistakenble. The door was quickly pulled
open, and the next moment an Indian glided inside,
and helped to secure the door behind him

 
“THE VALLEY scour.

CHAPTER XVIL

Well, my good friend, what do you want?” in-
~ gnired Colonel Wells, as soon as he had the Indian se-
cured inside,

The savage replied by handing a note to his interro-
gator, who, : as he expected, found it was from younge
Sutherland. It simply reiterated the fact that the
Iroquois were largely reinforced, and that the critical.
moment was to come toward midnight. It added
that the success of the scheme depended upon Colonel
Wells sending back three men with the Indian, who,
"it was stated could be implicitly trusted.

But now arose a difliculty ; how were these three
men to effvct their egress? If they passed out in front,
they would be sure to attract the notice of the vigilant
Indians in the wood, who, it could not be supposed, |
would allow the log fort to remain a moment unwatch-
ed. It was hardly probable that they would scrutinize
every portion of it narrowly and continua ly, for as the
building was manifestly the safest place for them to re-
main, they could not see any cause for their forsaking
‘its shelter at this critical moment.

Colonel Wells calied old Mr, Bowles and his boy
beiow and stated what was necessary to do and ask-
ed their advice as to how it should be done.

«Whi are the three?” asked the old gentleman.

“You and your son and myself.”

« But how about leaving these folks—” :

Tt is best, 1 think; the ouly question is, how are
we to get out without bei sing seen.” mS

«Tie Injins ain't watchin’ oie back be of the
house?” :

 
  

    
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
     

90 THE VALLEY scout.

“They don’t seem to be.”

“Wal. it’s easy ’nough then—just drop out the up-
per window.”

*What a dunce that I didn’t think of that before.
Of course.” z

“You want our guns I s’pose.” ;

“Certainly; let’s go above, and letthem know what
we propose to do, and not wait any longer.”

Colonel Wells explained his intentions to his friends,
instructing them to keep upan unremitting watch and
to fire at the least manifestation that came from the
direction of the wood. He said if*their party return-
ed before morning, they would be preceded by him-
self, who would walk straight out from the wood,
which stretched several hundred yards from the rear
portion of the house. An unremitting watch and fire,
would prevent, the Iroquois from suspecting that the
force had been weakened, ‘and would help to make the
diversion proposed by Sutherland more complete. ie
added that probably the Indians would unite in an at-
tack before midnight, when the struggle for life would
assuredly take place. Leaving his daughter and
wife as commanders in his absence. he embraced them,
bade them an waffectionate good-bye, and the party
took their departure.

The window was carefully opened. and was found
of just sufficient width to allow the passage of a sing'e
person, The Indian went out feet first, dropping as

lightly as a feather upon the soft earth below. He

was followed by Colonel Wells, then old Mr. Bowles,
and last, his son, who proved himself as agile as a eat,
and a most valuable member of the party. His daugh-

ter, leaned forward a moment, and called good-bye,

again.
i f . ; .
“Good-bye! and may God bless you. There is
more courage and wisdom in your bead, than all the

rest I leave behind me, excepting your mother.”

The Indian gave a grunt, which being all the En-
glish he could master, was understood as signifying:

.

 

 

 

 
 

 

TUE VALLEY scour. ua

that they should follow him. All three did so, run-
ning lightly and silently, untill they were beneath the
friendly shelter of the wood Iere they had_ scarcely
paused, when out of the gloom came a form, which
Colonel Wells, in spite of its repulsive disguise, recog- |
nized as Edward Sutherland. - |

“ Hardly expected to meet you, Colonel,” was ut- :
tered in a frank, manly tone, e

‘¢T had no one to send, whom I was willing to trust: ser
you see we are rather short of men.” 2

“T suppose so; has there been any one hit inside?” a4

*¢ Not one.” sl

“Glad to hear it—all well?” |

«TJ believe so.”

“ Yis, yis,’ added old Mr. Bowles impatiently, “ the
gal is fust rate, and blushed all over when the Colonel
handed your letter for her to read.”

If young Sutherland's face had not been pretty
thickly eovered with paint, and himself shrouded in
the gloom of the wood, it would have been seen that
he was blushing deeply, but he made no answer to the
plain words of the old man.

* You spoke of a sheme, by which yon hoped to
create a diversion in our favor?’ remarked Colonel
Wells in an interrogative manner.

‘Yes; I will explain it in a few words.”

“ Don't speak too loud—don't speak too loud,” ad-
‘monished the old gentleman. ‘The way you ydled
at me yesterday, shows you know how to speak out.”

“« My plan in brief is this: My friend Peqawaski, —
and his friends. numbering three besides myself, have
been engaged in spreading a rnmor through the camp, —
that a party of Yangese—as they call the Yankees—_
and a band of friendly Oneidas are close at hand, and |
liable to appear at any moment. :

_ Ithas almost created a panic, and we propose to
take advantage of this feeling, and so frighten them —
as to make them clear out entirely.” fae

“Jn what manner ?” :

   

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

 

  
 
  
92 : “THE VALLEY scour.

EEN S have a keg of powder concealed in a pile of
stones, directly in the center of the camp, and which
is now barning with a slow match. It won't go off
under an hour, but when it dovs it will make the tall-

est kind ofatime. The explosion, which will be very
fatal to those around it will be the signal for these In-
dians to raise the shout that the, Yengese are coming,
while we are to crack away at the same time with our
guns: andI have little doubt, but what we can make
the ruse completely successful and save your families.
What do you think of it, Colonel Wells?”

_ Jt strikes measa good plan, and offering more
hope than any we could possibly adopt.”

‘Follow me then as carefully as possible.”

The young man Jed the way through the.woods for
some distance, until they reached a “sort of hollow,
when he paused.

We are now a couple hundred yards away from

_ where the Indians are. I wlll let Peqawarki here pass
_ into camp, where he and his friends will do all they can

_ to prepare the Iroquois for a panic, in the way of fright-
ening them about rumors of the coming Yangese ‘and
friendly Oneidas.”

Sutherland muttered something to the Indian, ie
immediately withdrew, and disappeared in the dark-
ness.

*: TTe and a comrades will do good service,” re-

_marked young Sutherland.

“But will they not overdo it and awaken the susp
cion of the Mohawks?”

_ They are too cunning for that ; they know how to

_ Operate among their own : people. ie

“Let me ask, Edward, how it is that you happen i in

; this ncighborhood at this opportune moment?”

eee] have a furlough from the army for a month, and

was on my way here, when I met Peqawaski hunting —

inthe woods. He told me that a party of Mohawks
were descending the river, and he thought would very
7 go into aS ry Valley, and py WW cleans a

 
re

THE VALLEY scout.

visit. You may not have recognized Peqawaski, but
he is a warm friend of yours, from the many kindnesses
he has received at your hands, and he is the same red-
skin I used to hunt with before the war.

“ Well, he felt very bad over it, and we two tried to
think of some plan to help, and finally concluded to
fix me up as an Indian, and wetwo would go among
them, and raise all the mischief we could. Ihave
been with Peqawaski so long, that I can speak Mo-—
hawklike a native, and I had no fear.

“We mingled right among them, and did not at-
tract the least suspicion, and have got along so far.”

“How did you manage with the keg of powder?”

- “That is all the Indian’s sharpness; It belongs to
the Mohawks, but he managed, by some means or oth-
or, to get hold of it, and put it down among the stones,
which you know are quite a big pile, as they have
been coll cting three or four years, from what we gath-
ered around the village. After he burried it there, he
contrived to get a slow match to it.”

« Everything is working finely. The Mohawks, for
all they arein suchlarge numbers, are very uneasy and
apprehensive. Some of them, too, know of you by
reputation, and do not like the idea of i injuring one
who has always been a good friend to them.”

“That pleases me,” said Colonel Wells, I cannot
_ understand why this attack is made, when I have been
on such terms with the Five Nations.”

“Tt was the doings of that Gaspard, and afew dus-
ky dogs. You don’t know this Gaspard ?”

~ © Never beard of him. ?

“He seems to have « par ticular enmity against you, © :

from what cause I cannot tell—
_ ‘Is his given name Albert ?”
“Tt is’
«aht Tiave it! J understand it all. His right
name is Rochambeau—Albert Raspard Rochambeau ?”
“T have heard the latter name also oe to

him.”

 
94 THE. VALLEY scout.

*¢Ts he thin, tall, with black hair and eyes 2”

“Ie corresponds exactly with that, except his hatr
is considerably ray.”

“Ttis an affair of twenty-five years’ standing. IT
married the lady he loved—that is all, except we had
ore or two collisions during the French and English
war.”

At this point Peqawaski spoke to Sutherland,
wherenpon the latter quickly said :

“See that your guns are ready; the time is doseat
aries! ie

“Weare to rush, shoot and yell like blazes!” in.

uired old Mr. Bowles.

“Yes, and make all the noise—”

A terrific booming explosion burst upon the air, fol-

lowed immediately by screams, and shouts, and yelis,
that told plainly enough the mine had exploded.

Now!” called Sutherland.

“The Yangese are coming! the Yangese are com-
ing!”

‘Accompanied by shouts, whoops. and the firing of
guns, and the most discordant screeching. Peqa-
waski and the Onedias were allowed to precede their
friends, so as to arrive among the startled Mohawks
immediately after the terrifying explosion.

The panic could not have been more complete,
Had ten thousand “ Yangese,’”’ sprang trom the fort.
with loaded guns, the Mohawks could not have fled
more precipitately. Ten minutes later, not a living
enemy was within sight, while they were skurrying

through the woods in every direction.

The whole affair was understood within the bnilding,

and when our friends advanced toward it, the door
was unhesitatingly opened, and the joy of all was

7 complete,

 
 
   
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

THE VALLEY scout. 95

 

CIAPTER XVII

WuicH IS THE LAST.

 

There yet’ remained considerable anxiety regarding
mister Bowles. He was so young that no one felt
like reposing much confilence in his ability to take :
| = oare of himself, although all will admit that he dis-
played a shrewdnegs far beyond his years.

If he had remained perched in the tree since enter-_
ing it, the chances were that he had gone to sleep,
fallen to the ground and broken his neck, or been slain
by the horde of Mohawks rushing through the woods.

“Did you notice whether his trowsers was tore
any?” inquired Mrs. Bowles of young Sutherland.

“ As they received pretty rough usage, I think it is
safe to conclude that they are somewhat disarranged.”

“*Oause you know they are his Sunday ones. I
wove the cloth myself, and if he has tared them, O
wowt I give it to him!”

“The poor boy has been punished enongh already, |
He has had a hard time, and if you ever get him back
again your gratitude ought to drown all other feelings.
You may never see him again,” said our hero, in the
hope of toning down the feelings of the old lady.

“Yes; just like enough, after gittin’ away so nice —
from them, he'll go and get nabbed after all!” =

The hours dragged wearily by to our friends. The —
general supposition was that the boy was asleep, and
all hoped that he would come in as soon as it was day-
| light. Although all were nearly certain that the Indi-

ans had gone ‘for good,” yet ne one ventured out-
side the fort during the darkness. Too great a térror

 

        

 

  
   
 

98 : THE VALLEY scour.

diad been inspired by their presence for them to run
any unnecessary risk,

‘Elward Sutherland and Mary Wells managed ia
spite of the confusion and tumult to obtain a sort of
unoceupied corner, where they were at liberty to in-
dulge in those sweet little chats, which are apt to
characterize lovers when thrown into each others socie-
Ly.

Here the hours passed away pleasantly and rapidly,
despite the heavy breathing of the sleepers, and the
constant tread of others whose fears would not permit
them to slumber, and before they had-thougt of sucha
thing, they heard the announcement that — had
come.

“And has nothing been heard of Sammy ?’ juquired
Sutherland of Colonel Wells.

“Nothiug at all; I am beginning to feel anxious
about him, I think’ we had better make a a for
him.”

“Tn that case we had better go at once. - I hid
the boy I will know where to find him.”

And I will accompany you—”

«Tet me suggest that some one else go with me,—

say Mr. Bowles. The danger may not be over, in
which case your presence will be of more importance
here than anywhere else.”
; These were the words of prudence, and when a
_. few miuutes later Edward Sutherland started in seareh
of the missing boy, he was accompanied only by Mr.
Bowles. :

‘We will just go to the tree where I left him and
see if he is still there.”
* Are you sure you can find it?”
“ Yes; I cannot miss it.”

 

up.”
“No; but they are gone—no doubt they are “with

  
 

“Th we only had Peqawaski, or one of those pesky.
— Oneidas with us it wouldn't take long to hunt him —

the Mohawks, and Peqawaski is ready to lead in the ;

   
 
   
   
 
 
  

      
     
   
         
     
   
           
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      
 

 
   
    
 

THE VALLEY scout. j “7

  

attack upon some other settlement where he doesn’t
happen to have any friends.”

“Queer dog. Arter we find the boy we'll hunt. up
the mare, which I think must be getting a little impa-—
de ONS”? =
-- This is rather a dangerous proceeding,” said Su-
ther and, “ As there still may be Indians in the wood.

I want you to keep a particularly bright look-out, un-
-e'e Josiah, that they don’t get a'ie:d of us the last
minute,”

_  * ©That I will,’ was the response, and the two
plunged together into the wood, where a balf hour's
stealthy progress brought them to the identical tree,
where Sutherland aud the boy parted the day pre-
vious.

Nothing could be seen of the latter; but, as this
was no proof of his absence, they called his name, at
first, in a low voice, and then louder, until the sound °
echoed and re-echoed through the wood.

“Te has gone,” remarked Bowles, when they final-
ly gave over the effort.

“Yes; I have no doubt he has descended, and
made off”

“Yon don’t think the Mohawks got him?”

‘J dare not think about it! we will search. If we

_ only had Peqawaski with us, he would speedily take
up the trail, and decide the matter.”

___ They were now at a atand still, as there was no in-
dieation of the proper course to pursue.

* We may as well go in one direction as another,! »
said the old gentleman, “ so ’spose we take a look at
where I left the mare.” :

There could be no objection to this, and the sug-
‘gestion was adopted. The mare was found in a
dense mass of undergrowth, where the keeu orbs of
the. Iroquois had failed to detect her. She looked as
if she feit a little vicious at the neglect which she had
uffered, but a little petting and coaxing from her —

       
     
 
    
       
       
       
     
   
         
     
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      
  
 

   
   
       
  

‘93 HE VALLEY scour,

  

master soon restored her to her natural amiable dispo-
sition. “

* Now, if we only had that little codger,” remark-
ed Mr. Bowles, “I think Mrs. Bowles would feel a

 

little better.” a
= “ And so would we all.” : oo
They spent the entire forenoon in searching the ~ }

wood, but not the first sign of the boy was discovered.
Much dejected and cast down, they finnily wended —
their way homeward again. As they came into the Be
clearing thay saw the settlers busy moving their P
goods and effeets back into their own ho 1S@S 5 ‘and al-
most the first one they recognized was Master Samuel
Bowles helping his grandmother.
Three hours before he had merged from the woods,
none the worse for his enforced absence from home:
IIe had remained in the tree during the night; and
his grandmother, fs a careful examination of his
“clothes, and especially his trowsers, found them in
such a good condition, that she deferred her intended
trouncing until some more accouuts shcould acvumu-
lute agaiust the boy.

 

>

 
     
   
  

 

A few days later the people returned to their dwell-
ings, excepting the family whose house had been
berned. They remained with Colonel Wells until
another was built. :

i Not a member of the little settlement had been
killed, or so much as injured.

The Iroquois fled in such a panic, that most pie
their dead were left upon the ground. Preparations
were made to bury them, but on the first night sue- ~
ceeding the attack, a number of their friends, “silently
and stealthily returned, and as silently and stealthily
bore them away.

Edward Sutherland remained his entire month.
The greater part’ of it was spent wandering through _
_ the woods, fishing and talking lover's talk with Mary

Wells. eee “Ned,” as me was familiarly called, was uni-

 
 
      
   
   
   
   
   
   
        
*
THE VALLEY scour. 99

  
  

versally termed “a fine young man,” and when such
an appellation becomes universal, there is reason to
believe it is true.

| We went safely and creditably through the Revolu-

tion: oF War, and when peace came, returned to

| Wellsbure. married his first and only love, and was
> happy as he desired to be.

THE END.

 
 
No. 2 Frank Starr’s Song Book. 10 Cis.

SSE

he Best Minstrel and Comic Songs of the Day

we. JULE KEEN’S LOVE AMONG DERSWEITZER SONGSTER, is
sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid, on receipt of price (ten cents)
addressing the publishers, FRANK STARR & CO., 41 Platt St., N.Y.

 
stv ict ha tial ie cdc th rds ma

Phndeins iz Star Novels.

Ne 1—THE WOOD RANGERS, A Tale of iti Ohio,
No, 2—-THE PATRIOT SCOUTS; or, the Greon-Mountain Begs.
No, 3—PELEG SMITH ; or, Adventures in the Tropics.
No. 4-THE BACK WOODSMEN;; or, On the Trail,
No, 5-THE FHANTOM CHIEF; or, the Indian's Revenge.
No. 6—THE PRAIRIE TRAIL. A Story of the Kast and West.
7—THE BLACK SCOUT; or, th ichanted Island,
. S-WESTWARD BOUND. A of the Present Day.
9—CHINGA, THE CHEYENNE; or, the White Man’s Friend,
No, 10- WITCH OF THE WALL LOWISH, A Susquehanna Legead.
No. 11—THE YOUNG PIONEER; or, Life on the Frontier.
Ho, 12—-THE BEAUTIFUL UNKNOWN ; or, the Haunted Heuse,
Mo. 13-THE JUNGLE SCOUT. A Romance of India,
No, 14—-THE STEAM MAN OF THE PRAIRIES,
, 15—-THE RED FOE; or, the Hut in the Forest.
. 16—-LEW WETZEL, THE SCOUT; or, Captives of the Wilderness,
, 17—KIT CARSON, THE GUIDE; or, Perils of the Frontier,
. 18--KILL-B’AR, THE GUIDE ; or, the Long Trail.
. 19—BUCK BUCKRAM: or, Bess, the Female Trapper.
20—TRAPPER BEN ; or, the Hunters’ Camp.
21—CANEBRAKE MOSHE, THE SWAMP GUIDE.
. 22—-OLD LUTE, THE INDIAN-FIGHTER.
93~THE PRAIRIE PIF RATES; or, the Hunter’s Reveuge,
24—-RED CLAW, THE ONE- EYED TRAPPER,
. 25—THE FREE TRAPPERS. A Sequel to Trapper Bou./
. 26—-THE BORDER SCOUT; or, Joe Wier on the War-path,
. 27-THE BANDIT HERMIT; or, the Captive of the Cave,
. 28--KEEN-EYE, THE RANGER,
29--OLD 80L, THE GIANT TRAPPER,
, 80--NICK GNARL, THE DWARF GUIDE.
. 31-818 CONE, THE MOUNTAT NW TRAPPER.
, 82-THE SPECTER § PY; or, the Wizard Canoes.
. $3--TOM HAWK, THE TR. AIL ER} or, the Forest Tragedy,
, 04—-THE RIVER RIFLES; o Fate of the Flatboat,
. 85—-THE RENEGADE CHIE or the Trapper’s Last Shot.
. S6—-HANK, THE GUIDE; or, the Long Trail,
. 8I-WHITE SLAYER, THE AVENGER: or, the Doomed Red-Skia!
. 883—-THE RED-RANGER: or, the Panther of the Plains.
. 89-THE FOREST OUTLAW; or, the Branded Brigand.
. 40-RED JACKET, THE HURON: or, the Belle of the Border,
. 41-WILD RAVEN, THE SCOUT ; : or, the Missing Guide
42—TOM PINTLE, THE PILOT. "A Tale of the Three Years’ War.
. 48—TAE WHITE 'WABR JOR: or, the Track of the Avenger.
. 44-LONE STAR, THE TEXAN 8COUT; or, the Jarocho’s Sister.
. 45-HAM, THE HUNTER; or, the Ontlaw's Crime.
, 446—THE UNTER GUIDE; or, The Black Wolf of the Border.
For ‘sale by all Newsdealers aud Booksellers; or will be sent singly or in ~ q
ages by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price—Tam Orn'rs each.

FRANK STARR & Oo., Publishers, 41 Platt Street, ¥
PR er

 

 

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ay