The Riflemen of the Ohio: A Story of the Early Days along "The Beautiful River"Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
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The Riflemen of the Ohio: A Story of the Early Days along "The Beautiful River"
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Ohio River -- Juvenile fiction
"Wa'al, I'm alive," said Shif'less Sol, "but I ain't what you would
sca'cely call well. A bullet went clean through my side, and that's a
thing you can't overlook just at the time. I ain't fit yet for runnin'
races with Injuns, or wrastlin' with b'ars, but I've got a good appetite
an' I'm right fond o' sleep. I reckon I'm what you'd call a mighty
interestin' invalid."
"Invalid or not, you're the same old Sol," said Henry, who had finished
dressing. "Now show me to this house of yours."
"I can't say rightly that it's the mansion o' a king," said Shif'less
Sol solemnly. "A lot o' the furniture hasn't come, an' all the servants
happen to be away at this minute. Guess I'll have to show you 'roun' the
place myself."
"Go ahead; you're the best of guides," said Henry, delighted to be with
his old comrade again.
The shiftless one, still going rather weakly, led the way a few steps up
the almost precipitous face of the rock toward some bushes growing in
the crevices. Then he disappeared. Henry gazed in amazement, but
Shif'less Sol's mellow laugh came back.
"Walk right in," he said. "This is my house."
Henry parted the bushes with his hand and stepped into a deep alcove of
the rock running back four or five feet, with a height of about five
feet. The entrance was completely hidden by bushes.
"Now, ain't this snug?" exclaimed Shif'less Sol, turning a glowing face
upon Henry, "an' think o' my luck in findin' it jest when I needed it
most. Thar ain't a better nateral house in all the west."
It was certainly a snug niche. The floor was dry and covered with
leaves, some pieces of wood lay in a corner, on a natural shelf was the
dressed body of a wild turkey, and near the entrance was a heap of ashes
and dead coals showing where a fire had been.
"It is a good place," said Henry emphatically, "and you certainly had
wonderful luck in finding it when you did. How did it come about, Sol?"
"I call it Fisherman's Home," returned the shiftless one, "because me
that used to be a hunter, scout, explorer an' Injun-fighter, has to fish
fur a while fur a livin'. When I wuz runnin' away from the warriors,
with my side an' my feelin's hurtin' me, I come to this lake. I knowed
that jest ez soon ez you got the chance, providin' you wuz still livin',
you'd foller to find me, an' so I blazed the trail. But when I got here
it set me to thinkin'. I saw the high bank on this side, all rocks an'
bushes. I reckoned I could come over here an' hide among 'em an' still
see anybody who followed my trail down to the other side. I wuz strong
enough by that time to swim across, an' I done it. Then when I wuz
lookin' among the rocks an' bushes fur a restin' place, I jest stumbled
upon this bee-yu-ti-ful mansion. It ain't furnished much yet, ez I told
you, but I've sent an order to Philadelphy, an' I'm expectin' a lot o'
gor-gee-yus things in a couple o' years."
"And you live by fishing, you say?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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