Des Arc weekly citizen., 1867-05-18
The Border Heroine.

The Border Heroine. Some years ago, before the State sof Arkansas was so denscly populated as now. and when tlic mails rom Little Rock to the eastern borders were car ried on horseback, there lived few miles above Horsehead, a stout pioneer named Jacob Burnap. His wife, Pol llv, and one child, nine years old, made up his family. His chief business was hunting, and his uncrring rifle mover failed to supply his board and somc- thing over His nearest ncighbor vas fifteen miles off, so he was little trou- bled with prying visitors.
 It was in the early spring that Jacob- started down the river with boat load of furs and skins. He left Polly in charge of the premises, and he left with her, too; a light rife and brace of pistols. She knew how to use the ri fle, for never was she happier than when her husband patted her on her shoulder and said
 I "Nobly done, Polly, my dear; could mot have made better shot myself" And he had occasion to say this with truth.
 Jacob Burnap had been gone for four days, when towards evening horse man rode up to tho hunters door. He was small muscular man, some forty years of age. and seemed innuredto all hardships. As he sprang from his sad dlc Polly made her appearance at tho l door. m s~
 "Ah. Polly, once more here, tho new Fcomer said, as he drew we'll filled pair of saddle bags from the back of his fla 1 tigucd beast.
 ayes, and I am glad 10 sec you. Ja- rob has been away four, days, and time is getting heavy"
 ''Jacob gone? Whcre?"
 'Down the river with load of furs."
 "Oh, yes. Well, you shall have the company of Lant Morton for one night at least; so for the next twelve hours you'll be safc.'
 sOh, I feel safe cnongh,' replied the womanguickly, "Only I'na little lone some"
 Thus speaking, Morton threw his sad- dc bags into the cabin and led his horse around toa low shed, where he 'fastcn ed and fed him.
 After this he returned 10 the dwell- ing and entered, and was soon discuss- ing the events of the times over an am. pie supper. His hostess had told him all that had sranspircd in the ncighbor- hood since his last visit, and the visitor gave her the news of the eastern valley. Lant Morton had been mail carrier on that route for several years, and not once had he passed 10 and fro, without spending the night at Jacob Burnap's. h fact he was about the only regular visitor at the hunters cabin, and not- withsianding the intervals between his visits were long. he seemed almost a fixture to the place. Polly Burnap, just in the bloom fwomanhood, knew his gentle, generous, noble character, so she felt perfectly free and at home in his presence.
 sIs it known on the route that your load is valuable ?" asked Polly.
 q" think not thoughit may be. Still am well armed, and fancy it would be tough job for any one to tackle old Norton"
 "A man was robbed on the creek few days ago."
 And the robbers have fed" said Morton carelessly, as he threw his mail bag after him.
 Morton went to bed at nine o'clock, as he was tired from his long ride. Pol ly had work to do, having neglected it while talking to her guest, so when she had seen him safe at rest in the bed, she drew her basket to little table where the candle was and went to work upon some clothing for her child, who was sound asleep in a corner.
 The old German clock upon the wall with its great weight and wind strings all exposed, had struck ten ere Polly arose from her work. She had pushed the basket beneath the table, when the i front door opened and two men entered. They were in- their. stockings, their shoes having been left outside.
 sIIush.a uttered the foremost of the intruders.
 sSpeak above whisper, and you die in moment"
 \ Polly recovered from sherquiek ter TOT and looked up. She saw two stout wicked, ugly looking men, one Of whom held cooked pistol towards her. With quickncss of perception natural to her, she knew the pistol would not 1 be fired ifshc held her peace, as that would make more noise than she would make, and further, she recognized in tho foremost notorious william, by the name of Dick Gallus.
 She had never seen him before, but the minute description her husband i had given her of the man, led her to know him, and positively too, for one biz scar on the left cheek was mark enough.
 sWhat do you ask gcntlcmcn?" in quired Polly, without betraying any fear. ws
 ssWe have come to see the mail car Tier" one replied, in n hoarse whisper. sWhcre is he? Mind, don't speak too < loud"
 s.lIc is long since asleep. Would it