The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1873-11-13
"a SHOT FOE" LIFE.

~ SIU1 VX0 44A6 80 o.. =.
Where the. Kentucky river cuts its way
through the mountains, having, upont either
bank hold rugged cliffs, that lift their SUBMITS
five hundred and a thousand feet, as the case
r1.y lbe.s above stream, there lived lin early
times settler by the name of Rufus Branson,
who with his wife and little child, a charming
Young girl of some eight or nine years of age,
occupied the e:rude cabin at the base of the prec-
ipice little back from the river.
Although greatly expesedsto danger, the In
dians at that time being very plentiful through
Out; the region, he managed to liye quietly tor
several years. .Etl
lrhe Indians frequently visited the rude home
of the hunter, and being always welcomed ana
provided with such foodsas Igas in the larder,
they maintained a friendly attitude. Especial
ly1were they fond of the child Maggie, and
more than one ferte warrior had been seen sit
ting on ;thesprass iii front of the cabin, listen
ing TO the child prattle Of the little one, or
else eugaged=in making her some toy or play
thing from willow twigs or plant bark. Z /;
In tthhis manner several years had been pass
ed. and Rufus Branson came to feel as secure
although be 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 reeilns step ana
bloodshot eyes told that he was intoxicated, ap-
peared, and staggering to the log steps threw
himself upon them. His first demand was TOR
fire-water, which was of course refused d on Gne
ground there was none in the house. The in
dian became cross and ugly, and declared with
terrible oaths that if the liquor was not pro
duced he would murder the whole household:
Branson was a brave, determined man, and
although he; dreaded the necessity, yet ne saw
he would be compelled to take prompt steps to
prevent the savage from executing his threat.
Waiting until the warrior had made demon
stration, Which he soon did by attempting to
draw his tomahawk, ,Branson sprang at him,
knocked him down with q blow OF his lst, and
then quietly edisarmed and bound him where
he lay. After few moments offnrious rawlings
and futile efforts to free himself, the savage
rolled over and sank into adrunken sleep. He
did not awake until the next morning, but be-
fore he did so the settler had quietly removed
his bonds and restored the weapons, which he
laid by the sleeper's side. The savage, on
awakening, rose slowly to his feet, felt his
wrists, as though the thongs hadleft feeling
there, took up his5weapons and, without speak
iugs word left and disappeared in the timber tin
near by.
"What do you think of that?" asked the
wife, turning to her husband with frightened
look
"Pshaw! Don't trouble your head about the
drunkeaebrute 7. answered settler. Lightly;
but as hetnrned-away aud stepped %into~the
door he muttered.
"Like it? Well, not much. The fellow
niue. be watched. Twas hopes that he would
not have remembered, but that lump where
my fist landed was enough, If nothing else,
10 recall the circumstances"
TheeSummer passed, and they saw their
drunken guest no more. He failed to make ms
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.not far from the house, caught sight
6f q figure lurking in the bushes, but quickly
disappeared when he advanced to where it was:
The figure was that Of IAN Indian warrior, and
dian warrior whom he had knocked down and
bound the previous Spring. The news was not
in any way comforting, and hence he did not
tell his wife of his discovery.
It would only alarm her. he thought, and
without, perhaps, any good result. He sim
plygtold her that he had ,discoved bear tracks
near by, and that she and the child must stay
within or close to the house during his ao'
sence.
Several days afterwards, Rufus Branson
heard his dogs in the timber down by the river,
and2 2knowing they never opened without good
cause, he caught up his rife and hastened
where they were barking. They had struck
fresh bear trail, and, as he arrived in sight,
they fairly lifted it, going off in straight line
down the river.
The. chase led him several miles, and, when
hesatl last got a shot that finished bruins career
he4found that it was three or four o'clock an
the afternoon Swinging his meat to sapllng,
out of reach of cat or wolf, he started for home
TO get his horse and return and fetch 1t that
night. -,
Taking near cut, he approached the cabin
from the western side, where the timber grew
heavy up to within few yards of the building,
and consequently he could not see the clearing,
OF what might be transpiring there, until ne
Lad passed through the wood. ;.
Thus it was that, when within short dis
tance cf his home he heard wild, piercing
shrek; but he could only guess that something
terrible must be taking place beyond the screen
of bushes and leaves Uttering loud shout,
that his presence might sooner be known,
Branson sprang forward like wounded buck,
8 great fear in his heart, for he had only too
clearly recognized in that scream the agonlzed
voice of his wife.
II took but a moment for him to clear the In
tervening timber and undergrowth, and as ne
dashed out into the clearing, holding the rifle
ready for instant use, he comprehended IN one
swift glance all that had taken place, and what
was further to fear. :,
Near the end of the cabin, facing the
cliff, of which have spoken, stood the
mother, her face as paid as DEATH, her arms
outstretched, her staring eyes hxed upon n the
precipitous heights up which the figure OF an
INV child my my child p' was all the woman
cold and Rranson saw that the bundle in the
Indians arm was the form of their only child,
Maggie. ., .+,,a,, .s
the rocks around, the father for moment
quailed and covered under what his quick
senses told him the deadly peril of the little
one. But he was quick to recover.
The Indian was drawing away; step by step