The River Falls journal. (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1857-1861, 1857-07-01
Life On the Prairies.
A sTARTLIEG Narrative.

driving storm had driven us from the
prairie, where VIII Wayland and 1 had
passed the day in cunning.
In the midst of an open prairie, extend
ing many miles in either direction, stands
the pretty village of o., containing
some half dozen houses, small establish
ment dignified by the name of store, a
tavern, lawyers office, and several me-
chanic's shops. TO the plain and UMPIRE
tending tavern of this village, did we slow
ly and somewhat YEARLY went our way.
Thoroughly benumbed by the cold, wet
ted to the skin by falling water, and com
pletely tired of cur sport, its welI-lghted
bar-room presented an irresistible attrac-
ton; So throwing our bride to the hostler
we entered its unhallowed precincts.
Seated by the fire, was an old gray
haired man, whose tall, gaunt form told
Of many hardships endured, and still en-
durable. A plain, rough old man was
he, both in person and dress, a very pic
ture of the early pioneer: one known and
loved throughout the whole country, and
who, fer some unexplained reason usually
went bv the co9nomen Of " Old Yankee"
Somehow it had been whispered about
that Old Yankee, having been in the coun-
try at its earliest period of settlement, had
seen many a scene of wild adventure, and
strange, almost incredibly strange, were
the tales Of his narrow escapes from
deadly peril, that were current in the
neighborhood. As the storm precluded
the possibility ofmy returning home that
night, | resolved to make the most of it,
and hear from his own lips, an account of
some of his early adventures; therefore
leaning towards him and pointing to a
singular line extending horizontally across
his forehead, and for aught that could be
seen, around his head, as it could be seen
on either side of his locks of gray, | said
'Yankee, how did YOU get that SCARF"
He unused for moment and then in
far better language, than Judging from his
appearance l thought him possessed of
began:
at is now q little more than twelve
wears since, from the schooner Antelope,
l landed at the spot where Milwaukee now
stands. There were then but six or seven
log huts where dwelt few venturous fur
trad RS, whose dealings were wholly with
the Indians. | did not long remain there,
but with one companion, poor Moffat, |
entered the woods and pushed Westward;
after three days travel we arrived at the
spot 1t was the first prairie we had ever
seen, and need I tell you, we thought it
the most beautiful spot this side of the
grave.
Here we staid for many days, hunting
along over the prairie, trapping along its
many streams, and if such thing is pos
sible on earth, were wholly happy; but
the storm is nearest when the sky is fair,
and it bursts upon us when we expect it
not.
One day there came to our fire two
struggling Indians, and demanded rum;
we refused, and they became exasperated,
declaring that the pale faces always gave
it, and they would have it now. One of
them seized flask containing about
pint of ardent spirits, and before we could
prevent it he had swallowed one half of
Its contents.
It was all we had; not wishing to be
wholly without, | clinched with him, but
in the attempt to wrest the flask from his
drunken grasp, he was unfortunately
thrown so severely rs to be much hurt
He arose and they went away, muttering
in their own tongue, dark threats of ven
geance.
Still we thought but little of the incl
dent, and at night, with feeling of secu-
r;tv, We retired to rest, and as we had that
day in hunting and visiting our traps be
come much fatigued, our eyes soon closed
in sleep from which one of US was never
to awaken. | viii not say that there is
truth in dreams but of a verify my slum-
bers that night were strangely broken.
Three times did l dream, and every
time the self-same thoughts dreamed
that there were Indians proving round
us; I heard their cautious footsteps and
their smothered voices. felt their hot
breath on my check, | even saw the CLEAN
of their bright knives, and | knew we
were killed-all this was in my dreams.
Just then, however. there was sharp
crack of rifles, the loud war-whoop of In
dams, and the sound of rapid footsteps. /
felt sharp pain in my side and awoke.-
Great God! l knew it m single mo-
ment, Poor Moffat never stirred = the
rifle of the savage had been true to its
aim. and well had done Its work He was
dead. A strong athletic Indian, whom l
at once recognized as my antagonist of the
dav before, sprang to my side, and bend
ing over, drew his glt'ering scalping-
knife from Its sheath. knew that the
least movement on my part would but
hasten my end, and drawing in my breath,
/ remained to all appearances dead.
The savage rudely grasped my hair in
his hand, and twice did the keen blade
pass around my bead severipg the flesh
10 the very bone. till | almost screan1ed