Lewistown gazette. [volume] (Lewistown, Pa.) 1843-1944, 1861-12-25
Ml99l3A1AN7a
For the Gazette
BENHAMED, the FISHERMAN
OR THE
The Robson Crusoe of the Juniata.
BY DURELL McDnLDARRELL.


to tale of wild adventure and hair-breadth
escapes If so, retain your linen and give
me your attention. The thrilling incident
| am about to relate, though clad in the
habiliment of romance and garbed in the
guise of fiction, is nevertheless true.
The scene is laid in the lovely valley of
the Juniata, and upon the bosom of the
beautiful river of that name, 1t is not my
intention at present to bring before you
sccaes of the days of Aliarata of years
long gone, when that charming Indian
maiden was supposed to have roamed along
the margin Of this magnificent stream, in
all her unsophisticated' loveliness when
Logan's wild shout rung up the valley, ech-
oing and vibrating thro rgh the mountain
gorges OF the giant hills that overlook
the river; nor of the times when the red
mans drum was heard sunmoning the war
riors to the war dance, aud other amuse-
ments peculiar to the aborigines, in the
days when the Indian was lord of the soil,
when he trod the banks of this river in all
hlS savage and barbaric pride Ny story
Is one Of the present century. just three
years ago.
The present how changed from former
years:
The voice of Nf.trata and her red warriors brave,
Are forever slenced III their green, grassy graves
The blue Juniata that once flowed so mu-
sicaIly along, rejoicing in its own being, is
forever hushed. Navigation demanded it.
Its mOSSy margin is torn up as if by mi"h-
ty earthquake The railroads of advancing
civilization required it. The shrill whistle
Of the iron horse has superseded the terri
bie scream Of the panther and the fierce
howl Of the wolf The boatman's winding
horn has taken the place Of the Indians
drum But with all these mighty changes,
it still retains large share of its former
greatness and maguifcence. Sweet Juni-
ata, land Of my birth home of my child
hood; land where the notes of silvery bird
songs are never hushcd, and where the tints
Of the earth and the hues of the sky,
though varied in color, vie with each 9th
cr in their rcspleudent beauty. But how
art thou changed But though thy pris-
tine days OF loveIinc5s and splendor have
passed away, thou art yet beautiful. But
am DEPRESSING, and must to my story.
On lovely morning in the month of
June, 1889, there might have been seem
a canoe containing solitary individual
shove out from the mouth of the Kishaco-
QuIliaS creek into the placid waters of the
Junlata. When near the middle of the
stream, this lone in ividual relaxed rowing
and allowed his boat to drift careleSsly
down And while it is floating lazily along,
let us take a look at the occupant of the
saif whom VIC will name Benhamed-
There is nothing very prcpossessing in his
appearance lie is short of stature, very lus-
ty, not the result Of good living. but more
the effect of his frequent visits 20 the tav-
ern and ale house Ills hair is what some
would call carroty, but We will style it By
the more romantic name of auburn. His
eyes or eye, for he had only one, was of the
miIdcst gray and over where the other
eye Ought to be, was green patch. His
face vas not the 4aircst that e'er the sun
shone on nor did his complexion outvie
the lilly, but looked as if it had stolen the
deep carnation of the deathless rose. His
funny old nose was neither Grecian, Ro
man, nor Aqnelinc, but a pug of the pug
gest kind and had attained the hue of a
fnlLblown pincy. His gaudv trappings
and glittering paraphernalia consisted of a
straw hat minus crown, red flannel shirt
bespaugled Ger with tin stars and buttons,
and huge red comforter in which was
blended ali the coIors If the rainbow. His
pant,loons ware , Kind of a mink snuff
colorad, orra,,,or,o,,t .nd soonad n ft him
too much lie sboos woro IF the SQUARE
toed sroo;os ond 1poro tied togotber with