Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1873-08-23
A CLOSE SHOT.

n OAO0L OnOGs
Where the Kentucky river cuts its
way through the mountains, having
upon either bank bold, rugged cliffs
that lift their SUBMITS five 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 rude
cabin at the base of a precipice little
back from the river
Although greatly exposed to dan
ger-the Indians at that time being
plentiful throughout the region-he
managed to live quietly for several
years.
The Indians frequently visited the
home of the rude hunter, and being
always welcomed and provided with
such food as might be in the larder,
they maintained very friendly atti-
tude.
Especially were they fond of the
child, Maggie, and more than one fierce
warrior had been sitting ON the grass
in front of the cabin, listening to the
childish prattle of the little one, or
else engaged in making it some toy or
plaything fpm twigs or bark.
In this manner several years had
been passed, and Rufe Branson came
to feel as secure as. though he was
within the walls of frontier fort.
One evening Branson and his wife
were seated near the doorway when,
suddenly, shadow fell across the
Threshold, and the next moment,
tall savage, whose reeling and blood
shot eye, told that he was intoxicated,
appeared, staggered to the log steps
and threw himself upon them.
His first demands were for fire wa
ter" which were of course, refused,
on the plea that there was none in the
house.
The Indian become cross and ugly,
swearing with terrible oaths that if the
liquor was not produced, he would
murder the household. Branson was
brave man, and although he dreaded
the necessity, yet he saw that he would
be compelled to take prompt steps to
prevent the savage from executing his
threats. Waiting until the warrior
had made demonstration-which he
soon did by attempting to draw his
tomahawk-Branson spraDg upon him,
knocked him down with blow of his
fist, and then disarmed and bound
him where he lay. After few min
utes of futile efforts to free himself,
the savage rolled over and sunk into
drunken slumber.
He did not awake until next morn
ing, but before he did so, the settler
had quietly removed his bonds and re-
stored the weapons, which he laid by
the sleeper's side.
The savage on waking, rose slowly
to his feet, felt his wrists, as though
the thongs had left feeling there,
took up his weapons, and, without
speaking a word, left him, and disap-
appeared in the timber that stood
near by.
What do you think of that?" asked
the wife, turning to the husband with
scared look.
"Pshawl Don't trouble yourself
about the drunken brute" answered
the settler lightly, but, as he turned
away, and stepped into the yard, he
muttered Like it! Well, not much.
The fellow must be watched. was in
hopes he would not have remembered,
but that lump, where my fist landed
was enough, if nothing else, to recall
the circumstance.
The summer passed they saw the
drunken guest no more. He failed to
make his appearance. But as the leaves
began to fall, the settler, one day, while
returning from hunting on the hills,
and passing through dense piece of
timber, caught sight of figure lurk-
ing in the bushes, but which quickly
disappeared when he advanced toward
where it was. The figure was that of
an Indian warrior, and Rufe BransOn
would have sworn that it was the In
dian whom he had knocked down and
bound the previous summer The
knowledge was not at all comforting,
hence he did not tell his wife of the
discovery. 1t would alarm her, with
out, perhaps, any good result. he
merely told her he had discovered bear
tracks near by, and she and the child
must stay within or close to the house
when he was absent.
Several days afterward Rufe Bran
son 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 we're barking. They had
had struck fresh bear trail, and as
he arrived in sight they fairly lifted it
going on in a straight line down the
river
The chase had led him several miles,
and when at last he got in his shot,
that finished Bruins career, he found
that it was three or four o'clock in the
afternoon.
Swinging his game to sapling, out
of reach of cat or wolf, he started for
home to get the old gray mare and re-
turn and fetch it that night. Taking
cut he approached the cabin from
the western side, where the timber
grew heavy up to within few rods of
the building, and consequently he could
not see the clearing, or what might be
transpiring there, until he had passed
through the wood.
Thus it was that when within but
very short distance from his home, he
heard wild piercing shrek; he could
guess that something terrible must be
taking place beyond the screen Of bush
es and leaves.
Uttering loud shout that his pres
ence might the sooner be made known,
Branson sprang forward with the leaps
of a wounded buck, great fear at
his heart, for he had only too clearly
recognized in that scream, the agonized
voice of his wife. 1t took but mo-
ment for him to clear the intervening
timber and underground, and as he
dashed out into the clearing, holding
his rifle ready for instant use, he com
pretended in one swift glance all that
had taken place and what was further
to fear.
Near the end of the cabin, facing
the cliffs of WHICH / had spoken, stood
the mother, her face white as the dead,
her arms outstretched, and her staring