Elkswatawa : $b or, The prophet of the west. A tale of the frontierFrench, James Strange
General
Elkswatawa : $b or, The prophet of the west. A tale of the frontier
French, James Strange
Tippecanoe, Battle of, Ind., 1811 -- Fiction
Rolfe, amused at the idea of their being greasy, laughed outright,
asking, “In the name of heaven, Earth, how did you find out they
possessed that property?”
“Because I once caught one,” said Earth, “and laid it out upon an old
stump, as cold as a wedge.”
Still more amused by this conceit, Rolfe replied, “you are the first
man I ever heard of, Earth, who could catch one. Do tell us all about
it, and rise up; I believe you are still frightened.”
“No, I am not now;” then rising up, he said, “Rolfe, give me your
hand,” and Earthquake seizing it, drew it across his forehead. Rolfe
again burst into a fit of laughter; for the perspiration stood in
large cold drops.
Even Earth was now amused at the groundlessness of his fears, and
together they proceeded to inspect more narrowly the moving lights.
“Suppose I put them out,” said Earth?
“Well, do,” said Rolfe.
“Then, hold my gun,” said Earth, and he passed it to him, and began to
make preparation for stripping.
Rolfe was convulsed with laughter, and Earthquake had already taken
off his hunting accoutrements, before he was able to inquire into the
nature of the attack he proposed to make on them. Having at length
found a tongue, “Earth,” said he, “do tell us how you mean to
proceed.”
“I know two ways to catch 'em,” said Earth. “Now suppose you let me
tell you how I _laid out_ that one we were talking about.”
“Do, I should like of all things to hear it.”
“Well, one night, in the early part of the spring before we met, I was
going through a part of that green swamp you have heard me speak of,
when I _seed_ a jack-a-lantern just ahead of me, dodging about in the
swamp. So it turned out to be, but what sort of an animal it was, at
that time I had not the least idea. I _trapesed_ on after it,
wondering what it was, and expecting every minute to catch it, for
pretty near a mile and a half, when I found myself just about as near
it as when I started. 'Twas a thing that old Jupe was afraid of, for
she kept gitting between my legs and tripping me up, until I was so
mad that I took a stick and beat her up into a big lump.”
“Earth, what sort of a time had you?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account