Delaware Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1843-1874, 1873-03-27
An Indians Revenge.
By RALPH RINawoop.

hundred and thousand feet, as the case may
be, above the stream, there lived in early times
settler by the name Of Rufus Branson, who,
with his wife and only child, a charming little
girl Of some eight or nine years, occupied the
rude cabin at the base OF tall precipice little
back from the River.
Although greatly exposed to danger-the In
dams at that time being plentiful throughout
the region-he managed to live quietly for sew
eral years.
The Indians frequently visited the rude home
OF the hunter, and being always welcomed
and provided with such food as might be
In the larder, they maintained a friendly atti-
tube.
Especially were they fond OF the child, Mag
gle, and more than one fierce warrior had been
seen sitting on the grass in front of the cabin,
listening to the childish pratte ofthe little one,
or else engaged in making it some toy OR play.
thing OF willow twigs or plant bark.
In this manner several years bad been passed
and Rufe Branson came to feel as secure as
though he was within the walls of a frontier
fort.
One evening Branson and his wife were
seated near the open doorway, when sudden
ly shadow fell across the threshold, and
| the next moment tall savage whose Keeling
| step and bloodshot eyes told that he was in.
| toxicated, appeared. anu staggering to the log
steps, threw himself down upon them.
His first demand was for "fire-water," which
was of course refused, oil the plea that there
was none in the house.
The Indian became cross and ugly, swear
ing with terrible oaths that If the liquor was
not produced he would murder the louise
hold.
Branson was brave, determined man, and
| although lie dreaded the necessity, yet he saw
that lie would be compelled to take prompt
steps to prevent the savage executing his
| threat.
Waiting until the warrior had made a de-
monstration, which he soon did by attempting
to draw his tomahawk, Branson sprung upon
him, knocked him down with blow of his fist,
and then quietly disarmed and bound him
| where he lay. After few moments of furious
rawlings and futile efforts to free himself, the
| savage rolled over and sunk iuto Il drunken
slumber.
He did not awake until next morning, but
before he did so, the settler had quietly remov-
cd his bonds and restored the weapons. viii CHI
he laid by the sleepers side.
The savage, on awaking, rose slowly To his
T, feet, felt his wrists as though the thongs had
left feeling there, took up his weapons, and
| without speaking word, left the cabin and dis
| appeared in the timber near by.
"What think you of that" asked the wife,
turning to her husband, with scared look on
| her face.
"Pshaw! Don't trouble your head about the
drunken brute" answered the settler, lightly,
but as he turned away and stpepsd into the
yard lie mutte.ed:
"l.ike it. well, not much The fellow must
| be watched. was in hopes he would not have
remembered, but that lump where my fist land
ed was enough, il nothing else, to recall the
| circumstance"
The summer passed, and they had seen their
| drunken guest no more.
But as the leaves began to fall, the settler
one day, while returning from huntihY on the
~ inn ftNrA, - 80
Der not far from the house, caught sight of
inquire lurking among the bushes, but which
quickly disappeared when he advanced toward
| where 1t was. The figure was that of an In
DIAN warrior; and Rufe Rranson would have
sworn that 1t was the Indian whom he knocked
uoTn and bound the previous summer. The
knowledge was not i'll any way comforting, and
hence he did not inform his wife of the discoy-
cry.
1t would only alarm her, without, perhaps,
any good result simply telling her that he had
discovered bear tracks near by and that she
and the child must stay within, or close to the
house, when he was absent
Several days afterward, RUFF Branson heard
his dogs in the timber down by the river, and
knowing that they never opened without good
cause, he caught up his rifle and hastened To
| where they were barking.
They had struck recent bear-trail, and as
he arrived In sight, they fairly lifted 1t, going
| III llllt uOWn Inc river.
The chase led him several miles, and when
at last be got his shot that finished Bruins ca.
reer, he found that it was three or four O'Clock
in the afternoon.
Swinging his game to a sapling out of reach OF
wolf or cat, he started for home to get the old
gray mare and return so as to fetch il that even.
ing.
Taking near cut he approached the cabl
from the western side, where the timber grew
heavy up to within few rods OF the building
ana consequently he could not see the clearing
or what might be Transporting there until he hac
passed through the wood.
thus 1t was Chat, when within but a yer,
short distance of his home, he heard wild
piercing shrek, he could only guess that some
thing terrible must be taking place beyond ia.
screen OF bushes.
ttering loud shout, that his presence
might the soorer be known, Branson sprupl
forward with the leaps Of IA wounded buck, :
great fear at his heart, for he had only too eeal
lyIetogniIed i'll that scream the voice OF Iii
wife.
II took bW amument for him to clear IN
intervening timber.
As he dashed out into the clearing, holdin
his lille ready for instant use, he comprt
hended in one swift glance all that had take
place, and what was further to fear
Near the end Of the cabin facing the cliffs, {
which lihave spoken, stood the mother ht
lace pallid Us the dead her arms utsretched al,
her staring eyes fixed upon the prccipitot
heights mp Which the figure of an Indian wa
nor was struggling.
MY Child! my chilI.' Was all the wolna
said, and then Ruie Branson saw that ii
bundle borne by the Indian was the form {
their only Child, Maggie.
flrm oil heart, and with nerve as sLstly q
the rocks around, the father for a molner
qualed and covered under, what his unic
sense told him, tile deadly peril of his litt
one.
But le was quick to recover.
The Indian was drawing away; step by ste
he was increasing the distance, and as he occ;
slonally glanced backward and downward, III
parents saw in his hideousy painted count,
nance the foul purpose that actuaed the abdu,
tor
"God aid me-" Dranson muttered, as i
raised his rifle, glanced through the sights an
touched the trigger.
The Indian started violently.
lie was hit, but not badly, and with We
OF devilish triumph, he pressed Oh his way III
ward.
"Too low by a couple of inches" said a cal
vocc at the settlers elbow.
Brauson started as though he himself H.,
been shot.
Where had this man come from. Who W.
he?
Neither had seen him approach.
But there was no time for explanations
The stranger, man rather below tina
above the ordinary height, whose fine, athele
form was fully displayed by his cosey-fttn
buck-skin garments, stepped quickly forward
few PAGES, and firmly planting his left foot
advance, threw up the unusually long an
heavy riff as though preparing to fire.
"For Coils sake, stranger, be careful Of III
child ~ cried Dranson, while the agonize
mother mut;cgad an audible prayer
'lt is Our only chance. Ikno'U that Indian
was the quick reply, and the sharp click clicl