Wild Western Scenes: A Narrative of Adventures in the Western Wilderness, Wherein the Exploits of Daniel Boone, the Great American Pioneer are Particularly DescribedJones, J. B. (John Beauchamp)
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Wild Western Scenes: A Narrative of Adventures in the Western Wilderness, Wherein the Exploits of Daniel Boone, the Great American Pioneer are Particularly Described
Jones, J. B. (John Beauchamp)
Boone, Daniel, 1734-1820 -- Fiction; Western stories; Wilderness areas -- Fiction
“If you stay there, you’ll be dead sure to be shot!” replied Sneak.
“You don’t think they’re coming back, do you?” inquired Joe, gliding
swiftly to Sneak’s side.
“They’ll be on us in no time. Is your gun loaded?
“I declare I have forgotten whether I loaded it again or not!” said
Joe.
“You’re, a purty feller, to watch with an empty gun, now ain’t you?
Never mind blowing in her—run down a cartridge as quick as you kin; it
makes no odds how much you have in; a big noise will do as much good as
any thing else,” said Sneak, hurriedly, evidently expecting to see the
savage enemy every moment, while Joe did his bidding, asserting all the
time that he believed his musket was already loaded, and expressing a
decided dislike to being kicked over every day from overcharging.
As Boone predicted, but a very short time elapsed before a series of
startling and frightful yells were heard below, which were answered by
similar horrid sounds above. Joe first ran towards Boone and Glenn, and
then sprang back to his place at the side of Sneak, fully convinced
there were no means of retreat, and, being effectually cornered, at
length evinced an ardent desire to fire. When the yells died away in
the distance, a flight of arrows from the north south poured upon the
besieged party. Many of them pierced the outer side of the palisade,
while others, flying over, penetrated the opposite timbers, and
quivered above the heads of the men; and some rattled against the top
of the house, (the snow having melted from the roof,) and fell harmless
to the earth.
There having been no shot yet fired in the direction whence the arrows
came, (for such was the order of Boone,) the savages, emboldened by the
absence of any demonstrations of resistance, and thinking their foes
were shut up in the house, or killed by their numberless shafts,
charged upon the premises simultaneously from both sides, shooting
their arrows and yelling as they came. When they had approached within
a hundred paces of the inclosure, Boone and Sneak fired with deadly aim
at the foremost of the party, and the next moment Glenn followed the
example, while Boone reloaded his gun.
“Now fire!” exclaimed Sneak, shaking Joe by the shoulder, having seen
the savages pause when one of their party uttered the death-howl and
fell.
“Here goes!” said Joe, pulling the trigger and falling over on his back
in the snow from the rebound, for the musket had been truly twice
charged.
“Split me if you didn’t accidentally throw a handful of bullets among
their legs that crack!” said Sneak, observing the now discomfited and
retreating Indians, as they endeavoured to bear off their wounded, and
then firing on them again himself as they vanished down the valley. The
like result was witnessed above, and again in a very short time there
was not a savage to be seen.
“What’s the matter? Why don’t you get up?” asked Sneak turning to Joe,
who still remained prostrate on the ground.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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