Washington telegraph., 1850-02-13
LANNON'S MARE.

The exploits of Fannon, the famous
tory partizan of North Carolina, would
make body of facts more interesting
than any tale or fiction. He was reck-
less fellow, bloody-minded as the hounds
Of Hayti. and lannon's mare was worthy
or her owner or better man. He called
her the Red Doe, from her resemblance
in color to deer She was a are ami
mal-heet. powerful. intelligent docile
as lamb-and her owner valued her,
dare say, above king or country, or the
life Of his fellow man. She bore him
proudly and fearessly in the bloody skir-
mlsh or the quick retreat. When he stood
IN the noisy council of his partisans, or in
the silent ambush, the faithful brute was
| by his side, ever ready to bear him whith-
| ersoever he would. But cannon lost his
mare.
Down to the east side of Little River,
the partisan and some four or five of his
followers one day captured man by the
name OF Hunter. whig from the coun-
try about Salisbury, North Carolina
This was sufficient cause of death, and
Eaunon told the man he should hang him.
Hunter was evidently man of the times;
but what could he do, alone and defence
less with dozen bitter enemies! 1t WAS
cause of complete desperation The
rope was ready, and strong old oak
threw out its convenient branches. Fan
non told him he might pray, for his time
was come. The poor man kneeled down
and seemed absorbed In his last petition
to the throne of mercy. Fannon and his
men stood by, and the trusty mare among
them with the reins on her neck. They
began to be impatient for their victim to
close his devotional exercises. But they
soon discovered that there was more of
earth than heaven in Hunters thoughts,
for he soon sprang on Famous mare
neck, pressed his heels in her nanks, and
darted away like the wind.
The tory rifles were levelled in a mo-
mcnt-"Shoot high. shoot high"' cried
tannon; "save my mare" The slugs
all whistled over Hunters back, save one
that told with unerriug aim, which tore
and battered his shoulder dreadfully. He
reeled III his saddle, aud felt sick at heart;
but hope was before him, death behind
and he nerved himself for the race. On
he sped-through woods, and ravines
and brambles did that powerful marc
carry him. safely and swiftly. His enc
mics were i'll hot. pursuit. They fol
lowed him by the trail of blood from
his wounded shoulder. He come tc
| Little River; there was no ford; the
| bank was high, and deep place il
| the stream before him. But the foe came;
| he drew the rein, and clapped his heels
to her sides, and that gallant mare plung
ed recklessly into the stream. She snorteC
in the spray as she rose, paved the Weld
| ing wave, and arched her beautiful mane
above the surface, and skinned along like
wild swan. Hunter turned her down
stream, i'll the hope of evading his pur
suers, aud she rared and dashed through
| the flashing waters of the shoal, like light
| mug IN storn-cloud
But Fannon was on the trail, and rush
| ing down the bank with all the rough
ennity that the loss of his iavorite could
| inspire. Hunter turned the mare to it:
| opposite bank, it was steep-several fee
| OF perpendicular rock-but she planted
| herself on the shore at a bound, and then
| away she flew over the intermediate forest
| straight and swift as an arroW-that ad
| mirabe mare.
On and on did the generous brute beal
the masters foeman till the pursuers
were left hopelessly behind. Late in the
| evening Hunter rode into Salisbury, had
| the slug extracted from his shoulder, and
after lingering some time with the effects
of his wound and excitement, finally got
well. And that gallant mare, that had
done him so much good service, he kept
and cherished till she died of old are.