The weekly Butte record., 1867-12-07
THE ARKANSAS DUELIsT.
By CAPT. n. Il. NAcNAsfARA.


came to the knowledge Of the writer was
related by an old man, encountered In
. dingy tavern, in certain locality in
the vicinity of Kentucky. He was a
man about ffty-ive or sixty years of
age; and, from his sun-browned COM
ple1ion, sharp eye, and a rusty beard,
looked as if he had seen considerable
life inside as we'll as outside his native
land.
He was seated in the parlor of the
tavern, smoking a we'll l-colored meer-
schaum pipe, and engaged in conversa-
ton with number Of guests, travellers,
peddlers and drovers, who congregated
in that vicinity, on their way to the
market, which was located midway be-
tween that station and the next town,
distant about twenty miles. 1t was a
fine winter night. The ground with
out was covered with thin mantle of
snow the air was cold and bracing,
and the great fire that shot forth its
light and warmth was indeed thing of
comfort. The company crowded about
it, telling such anecdotes and stories as
naturally emanate from such promis-
cuous companies, incidentally thrown
together The old man to whom We
have referred was engaged in detailing
an adventure which happened to him
some years previously, or rather hap
pened in part of Kentucky where he
had located, when kentucky was young,
and the woods formed the principal part
of what is now a great and populous
city. We shall give the old mans
story as nearly as possible in his own
words:
''It might be about twenty years
ago." said he, "when first | moved
from York State, packing up what few
traps | possessed, and made my way to
Kentucky. l selected a very pretty
site on the border of a wide stream of
water, for l had intended to erect
mill, for cut lumber was in considerable
demand among the people about there
for twenty miles, and others, attracted
by the beauty of the scenery, were fast
gathering and settling there.
A log tavern had been thrown up
short distance from the spot where l
had settled, and was kept by a man
named Tom Wright. Tom Wright
was what was called hard nut-a man
Of no character-big, burly, with one
eye, and that full of the devil, long,
ragged beard, and a very powerful
build. He was noted as dead shot
and notorious bully. A number of men
who lived about there generally congre-
gated in the tavern Of Tom Wright,
and there drinking, smoking, and play
ing cards, they passed large portion
of their time.
Sometimes, and, in fact, very often,
they got up shooting matches the stake
generally being keg Of powder, a gal
lon of white eye, few pounds of shot,
or some such article used by backwoods-
men. One day, when number of the
men l have referred to were assembled
in Toms hostelry, and drinking and
smoking as usual, young man, about
twenty-four or five years of age, came
riding up, mounted on a fine black stall
hon, of powerful build, with fire in his
eyes, and muscle in his fine well mod
eled limbs that would command the at
tention and compel the admiration of
the most experienced horsemen in the
country. The man was very hand
some tall, well-formed, and with a
face of remarkable beauty. His hair
was dark and curling, his eye large,
bright and black, full of manly frank
ness, and his dress was as tasty as his
face was handsome over his shoulder,
and secured by q leathern strap, was
swung rifle of remarkable length and
finish, and from the care with which he
carried it, it was evident that he knew
how to use it. He dismounted, and
tying his horse to post near the tav-
en door, proceeded to coolly enter the
house, nodding quietly and politely to
the loungers gathered about. He ap-
preached the bar, and called for some
rye whiskey, which he drank immedi-
ately, and paid for from handful of
silver which he took from his pocket.
He then requested that Tom Wright
would give hm lodging for day or
two, as he was up there prospecting.
He said that he had intended to settle
down if he could find spot of land
suited to his wishes. This young man,
from his gentlemanly deneanor, from
his fine hunting dress, and most of all,
his magnificent rife, which is always
an object Of admiration to backwoods-
man, attracted deserved attention. and,
rs it afterwards turned out, considera-
BILE hate and Jealousy in the minds Of
several of the party. One of them,
Sam Slade he was called, didn't take
any pains to conceal tie fact that he
hated the stranger: fer he remarked,
so that he could hear him, that 'sich
airy coves as he couldn't make much
by sticking up shanty among such
men as they
The stranger, however, paid no at
tention to the fellow he only glanced
at him contemptueusly for a moment.