The Devil's Own: A Romance of the Black Hawk WarParrish, Randall
General
The Devil's Own: A Romance of the Black Hawk War
Parrish, Randall
Black Hawk War, 1832 -- Fiction
He pointed out the path, with the directions necessary, and
disappeared, while I returned to the cabin, dragged a blanket from off
the bed, and filled it with whatever miscellaneous articles of food I
was able to discover about the place. My wound, now that I was busily
engaged, troubled me very little, and, gathering the four corners of
the blanket together, I easily transported this stock of provisions to
the river bank, and safely stowed them away in the boat found there. I
returned to discover the mule and cart ready, and a few moments later
we were creaking slowly along a gloomy wood road, jolting over the
stumps, with Pete walking beside the animal's head, whispering
encouragement into the flapping ear. The great adventure had begun.
CHAPTER IX
THE HOME OF JUDGE BEAUCAIRE
The road we followed appeared to be endless, and so rough that I soon
climbed down from my seat, an unplaned board, uncomfortable enough
under any conditions, in the swaying, bumping cart, and stumbled
blindly along behind, tripping over stumps in the darkness, and
wrenching my ankles painfully in deep ruts. Progress was slow, not
only because of the difficulties of the passage, but equally on account
of the obstinacy of the mule. Indeed, it required no small diplomacy
on the part of the negro to induce the animal to proceed at all, and
finally, despairing of the efficiency of words, he drew a club,
evidently reserved for such emergencies, from the interior of the cart,
and gave utterance to an ultimatum. Following this display of force
our advance became a trifle more rapid.
I endeavored to think, to plan more definitely my course upon arriving
at the Beaucaire plantation, but discovered it quite impossible to
concentrate my mind upon anything. My entire attention had to be
riveted on the intricacies of the road, which wound in and out among
the bluffs, down one gully and up another, until I finally lost all
sense of direction, and merely stumbled on after the dark outlines of
the cart, through a black cave formed by the branches of over-arching
trees.
It was considerably after ten o'clock when we emerged upon an open
plateau, and a glimmer of stars overhead revealed to me afar off the
silver thread of the great river. Even in that dim light I could trace
its winding course along the valley, and the view by daylight from this
point must have been a delight to the eye. Pete stopped the straining
mule, a feat not at all difficult of accomplishment, the animal's sides
rising and falling as he wheezed for breath, and came back to where I
stood, staring about at the dimly perceived objects in the foreground.
"Out dar am de Beaucaire place," he announced, as soon as he could
distinguish my presence, waving his arm to indicate the direction.
"An' I reckon we bettah not ride no further, fer if Alick shud smell
corn, he'd nat'larly raise dis whol' neighborhood--he's got a powerful
voice, sah."
"Equal to his appetite no doubt."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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