The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1874-05-07

monltlonS.
That night there was to be, IN tn
settlement. some three miles distant,
grand wedding; wedding of tn
good old frontier fashion-with a bal
and a supper-to which everybod.
was invited. One of our sugar-mak
ers had gone home with a sledge-loat
of sugar and molasses, leaving il
camp only Muttinger, young maj
named Wolfe, aud myself. Wolff
was extremely anxious to go to Cap
tain Smiths wedding, but, before b,
could do so, it was necessary for hin
to get Muttinger's consent for him tt
be absent for the night. To Obtain
this, he offered to cut all the woot
necessary for the night, and made
many strong appeals and tempting
promises, all without effect. Muttin'
ger was unwilling to be left alone tC
do all the work of the camp. Wolfe
however, accidentally struck him in 6
tender place, and, by what he meant
for reproach, accomplished what he
failed to gain by persuasion.
81 see," said he, 'syou are afraid -tC
stay here alone. You are afraid the
old squaw will come after you."
"'F'raid, der tuyfel y exclaimed
Muttingsr, starting up. "Me, q sold
Ter who has fight enough times nit
tousands live Indiansl Me 'fraid oil
old squawI Chop all de wood, und
go und dance NIT de gulls, like you
please, If de old squaw comes here,
William und me will dance nit her"
Wolfe took Muttinger at his word
He soon cut and piled, near the boil
ing place, enough wood to keep the
kettles boiling during the night. Then,
mounting the only horse left in camp,
he was soon on his way to Captain
Smiths wedding, not even waiting
for supper, which Muttinger set about
preparing.
| was very hungry, and enjoyed
with a relish slice of bacon broiled
before the fire on the end of sharp
ened stick, piece of corn hoe-cake,
and a bowl of milk. Muttinger ate
ravenously, aud was in an unusually
good-humor.
AS the shades of night drew on, the
stars peeped out overhead, and the
fire sent fourth soft, mellow radiance
upon surrounding objects, lighting up
the foreground of the wild scene, as
it deepened the shadows beyond /;
while the blue smoke, mingled with
the paler vapor of the boiling kettles,
and illumined with bright. red sparks,
curled upward to the midnight sky.
Nuttinger, who seemed restless, was
busy about the kettles, spill
ing the sap which he attempted to
dip from one kettle to another,
and piling on the wood with un-
f,..1 = 4
around he endeavored to Eeep me en-
gagged in conversation, and, wheu |
Jailed him, he whistled or sang his
iavorlt German airs.
Fatigued with the days exercise
md enjoyment, and drowsy from the
effects of heavy supper. was not
n talkative mood, and as / sat upon
ny puncheon stool, looking into the
ire, watching the fantastic figures
ny fancy pictured in the eddying
smoke, it was with difficulty that /
could keep awake. Muttinger tried
every expedient to arouse me. As he
vas taking drink from his brown
ug, he insisted on making toddy for
ne, which he said would keep me
bright awake all de vile." The sugar
n it commended the prescription to
ny taste, aud I tested its virtues pret-
y literally.
Muttinger lighted his pipe and seated
himself to enjoy smoke, at the same
ime to entertain me with one of his
tories of the war, which he knew /
70 much loved to hear.
evil you keep bright awake; now ?"
lie asked.
f'Oh, yes" replied, eff you will tell
ne about the battle of Brady's Lake,
where you killed SO many Indians"
'tVell," said Muttinger, ''you don't
70 to sleep. und I vii tell you all about
lie big fight vat We had nit de Indians
lat time. Vel, it vas bright, sthar-
ike night, just like tonight. he
poke, he raised his eyes-his pipe
lropped from his hand, and his gaze
eemed riveted upon the top of the
where the old squaw's jaw
zone shone in the freight.
tsLook looki" he exclaimed, in a
husky, tremulous voice.
It was either the eGeot of the whis-
~ on my imagination, or of the flick
ring freight, that made the jawbone
.ppear to me as if it were in motion.
sEOh," said l, 'sit's biting at us, and
ran to our camp-bed and covered !
ny head in the blankets.
1 could hear Muttinger talking to
himself, hut whether in English or his |
lative tongue could not tell.
The next moment he seized me by |
he arm aud raised me to my feet.
.'Don't you pc little fool cowart !
ike dat" said he. "No old deaf
quaW's jawhone don't hurt you, Billy. |
come, sthay nit me-"
sPm afraid" l replied. 81. don't
want to look at it any more"
"Vel," said he, 81 will put it we're it
lon't scare nobody"
He climbed up the post, and, seiz-
ng the jawbone, threw it in the
midst of the fire under the kettles.
Then, taking me in his lap, he endeav-
red to Danish my foolish fears, by as
uring me that whom the old jawbone
vas burned up it could hurt nobody.
"But," said |, 'tMr. Slough says the |
Id squaw's ghost rides all over these
woods on a white horse, aud Pm |
fraid she'll come after her jawbone. |
t was wicked to take it from her |
rave, and worse to burn it up."
By this time the sky, which in the
PtbAI VI LAO Ad4 AAV AAeA0 OOOA OAOcsA3 /
'egan to be overcast with drifting |
louds, and a strong wind swept in t
Itful gusts among the tree-tops.
Muttinger seemed very restless and |
disturbed in his mind. He tried to |
lissipate my fears, but it was evident
hat he was himself not entirely free |
rom apprehensions of evil. He talk
d incoherently, took another heavy
rink, and whistled and sang terribly |
ut of tune. He relit his pipe, and
made nae sit by him on the bench,
ear the mouth of the cabin. He
rev more and more restless, large I
rops of perspiration stood on his
oreherd, and at every gust of wind or
TRANCE noise, he would start almost
o his feet, exolaiming, "Vat's dat?"
For myself, my superstidous fears
ad been wrought up to a fearful
itch, not less by the events of the
light than by the recollection of the
rightful stories I had heard of the
Id sqnaw's ghost, and my only refuge
Tas the cover of the blankets or in
linging close to Muttinger.
Muttinger. who by this time had
eeome fearfully demoralized, sought