Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 8Sylvester, Charles Herbert
General
Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 8
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
I willingly engaged to go with him, and asked him to let me choose my
own mate to go with me, which he said he would let me do. I chose a
young man by the name of George Russell, son of old Major Russell of
Tennessee. I called him out, but Major Gibson said he thought he hadn't
beard enough to please him--he wanted men, not boys. I must confess I
was a little wrathy with this, for I know'd George Russell and I know'd
there was no mistake in him and I didn't think that courage ought to be
measured by the beard; for here a goat would have the preference over a
man. I told the major he was on the wrong scent; that Russell could go
as far as he could, and I must have him along. He saw I was a little
wrathy and said I had the best chance of knowing, and agreed it should
be as I wanted it.
We took our camp equipage and mounted our horses; and thirteen in
number, including the major, we cut out. We crossed the Tennessee River
and then traveled about seven miles further, and took up camp for the
night. The next morning, Major Gibson and myself concluded we should
separate and take different directions to see what discoveries we could
make; so he took six of the men and I five. We were to meet that evening
where the roads came together, fifteen miles the other side of the
house of a Cherokee Indian named Dick Brown.
I and my men then started and went on to the place of meeting, but Major
Gibson was not there. We waited till almost dark, but still he didn't
come. We left the Indian trail a little distance and turning into the
head of a hollow, we struck up camp. We stayed next morning till after
breakfast; but in vain, for still the major didn't come.
We started ahead and went about twenty miles to the house of a man by
the name of Radcliff. He was a white man, but had married a Creek woman,
and lived just in the edge of a Creek nation. He had two sons, large,
likely fellows; and a great deal of potatoes and corn; so we fed our
horses and got dinner with him. But he was bad scared all the time; he
told us that there had been ten painted warriors at his house only an
hour before, and if we were discovered there, they would kill us, and
his family with us. I replied to him, that my business was to hunt for
just such fellows as he had described, and I was determined not to go
back until I had done it.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account