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
The whole party entered the house to partake of a collation prepared by
the dainty hands of Mary. Mary had frequently insisted upon serving
them with refreshments during the night, but hitherto all her
persuasions had been unavailing, for the dangers that beset them on
every hand had banished all other thoughts than those of determined
defensive operations.
Boone was so certain that nothing farther was to be apprehended from
the enemy, that he dispensed with the sentinels at the loopholes. He
relied upon Ringwood and Jowler to guard them through the remainder of
the night; and when a hearty meal was eaten he directed his gallant
little band to enjoy their wonted repose.
Ere long Mary slumbered quietly beside her father, while Boone and
Glenn occupied the remaining couch. Sneak was seated on a low stool,
near the blazing fire, and Joe sat in Glenn’s large arm chair, on the
opposite side of the hearth. The fawn and the kitten were coiled close
together in the centre of the room.
Save the grinding jaws of Sneak and Joe, a death-like silence reigned.
Occasionally, when Sneak lifted his eyes from the pewter platter that
lay upon his knees, and glanced at the bandages on his companion’s
head, his jaws would cease to move for a few moments, during which he
gazed in astonishment at the ravenous propensity of the invalid. But
not being inclined to converse or remonstrate, he endeavoured to get
through with his supper with as much expedition as possible, that he
might enjoy all the comforts of refreshing sleep. Yet he was often on
the eve of picking a quarrel with Joe, when he suffered a sudden twinge
from his broken tooth, while striving to tear the firmer portion of the
venison from the bone. But when he reflected upon his peculiar
participation in the occurrence which had caused him so justly to
suffer, he repressed his rising anger and proceeded with his labour of
eating.
Joe, on the other hand, discussed his savoury dish with unalloyed
satisfaction; yet he, too, paused occasionally, and fixing his eyes
upon the glaring fire, seemed plunged in the deepest thought. But he
did not glance at his companion. At these brief intervals he was
apparently reflecting upon the incidents of the night. One thing in
particular puzzled him; he could not, for the life of him, conceive how
his musket rebounded with such violence, when he was positively certain
that he had put but one charge in it, and that only a moderate one. He
was sometimes inclined to think the blow he received on the head was
dealt by Sneak; but when he reflected it would be unnatural for one man
to strike another with his _teeth_, and that Sneak had likewise
sustained a serious injury at the same time, conjectures were entirely
at fault.
“What are you a thinking about so hard?” asked Sneak.
“I’m trying to think how I got that blow on the back of my head,” said
Joe, turning half abstractedly to Sneak.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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