Des Moines courier. ([Ottumwa] Iowa) 1848-1854, 1850-02-08
MISCELLANY.
lannon's Mare.
a 5lorp of the Repolution.

The exploits of Fannon, the famous
torv partizan of North Carolina, would
make a body of facts, more interesting
than any tale of fiction. He was a
bloody fellow-bloody minded as the
hounds of Hayti. He sometimes slew
the help ess and innocent in cold blood
the coward But he had that instinc-
tive tone and bearing of authority, that
kept his people within the meles and
bounds of his own despotic will. He
and his party, were one day resting
themselves, lounging here and there on
the green grass in the shade of the trees.
One of his subordinates, big strong
man had got mad with him. His rage
had been boiling in HIM for several DAYS;
and some fresh afront at the spring, eau
sed his anger TO become ungovernable-
he drew his sword, and was resting with
his elbow on the ground and his hand
under his head. His devoted followers
were around him, and he heard the click
OF their locks as they cooked their RI
fes. "Iet him alone!'' cried Fannon.
ia his quick, sharp tone. lie laid still.
calm and sclf-possessed, with his keen,
dark eyes fixed on the raging lieutenant
as he made tremendous plunge at his
breast. But when the stroke came, its
object swerved away like snake, and
the bailled man plunged his sword into
the ground. Quick as lightning, Fam
mons sharp blade passed through his
gigantic form -" Thus and thus punish
those who disregard my authoriivr'-
and his eyes glowed and sparkled like a
serpent's. The man sunk to the earth
forever. .... ..
But lannon's mare is written at the
top of this She ct; and she is the hero of
The present writing. ArchilIes had his
Aanihus and Balos and Pheargn; Alex
ander had his Bucephalus; Mcdonald
had his Sc!in. Fannon was man of
blood like them, and like them he had
his iavorlie and trusty charger; and Fam
mons mare was worthy of her owner,
or ''even better man" He called her
the Red Roe, from her resemblance in
color to The deer. She was a rare ami
mal--ilcet, powerful, intelligent, docile
as lam5-and her owner valued her,
dare say, above king or country, or
the lille of his fellow man. She bore
him proudly and fearessly in the bloody
skirmlsh or the retreat. When he stood
in the noisy council of his partisans, or
IN the silent ambush, the faithful brute
was always by his side, ever ready to
bear HIM whilhersoever he would. But
Fannon lost his mare.
Down on the east of Little River, the
partisan and some four or five of his
followers one day captured man by the
name of Hunter-a whig from the coun :
try about Salisbury, N. c. This was
sufficient cause of death, and Fannon
told the man he should hang him. Hun
ter was evidently a man of the times;
but what could he do, alone and defence
less, with dozen bitter enemies 1t
was case of complete desperation; the
rope was ready, and strong old oak
threw out its convenient branches
Fannon told him he might pray, for his
Lime had come. The poor man kneeled
10Tn, and seemed absorbed in his last
petition to the throne of mercy. Fam
non and his men stood by, and the trus-
ty mare stood among them, with the
rcins upon her neck. They began to
be impatient for their victim to close his
devotional exercises. But they soon dis
covered there was more of earth than
Heaven in Hunters thoughts; for he
suddenly sprang on lannon's mare,
bowed his head down on her powerful
neck, pressed his heels OH her fanks,
and darted away like the wind.
The tory rifles were levelled in mo-
ment-''shoot high! shoot high! save
my mare!" cried Fannon. The slugs
all whistled over Hunters back, save one
that told with unerring aim, and battered
his shoulder dreadlully. He reeled on
the saddle, and felt sick at heart; but
hope was before him, death behind. and
he nerved himself for the race. On he
sped-through woods, ravines, and bram-
bes, did thai powerful mare convey him
safely and swiftly. His enemies were
in hot pursuit. They followed him by
the trail of blood from his wounded
shoulder. He came to Little River;
there was no ford; the bank was high,
and deep place in the stream before
him. But the foe came; he drew the
rein, and clapped his heels to her sides.
ssund that gallant m!..,e plunged recklessly
Into the stream. She snorted in the
spray as she rose, paved the yielding
wave, arched her beautiful name above
the surface. and skinned along like a
swan. Hunter turned her down stream
in the hope of evading his pursuers; and
she reared and dashed through The fash
ing waters Of the shoal like the tighten
ing in the storm-cloud.
But Fannon was on the trail, and
rushed down the bank, with all the rough
energy that the loss of his favorite could
inspire. Hunter turned the mare to the
opposite bank; it was sleep-several
feet of perpendicular rock-but she
planted herself on the shore at bound;
and then away she flew over the inter-
minable forest of pines, straight and
swift as an arrOW-that admira BILE marei