The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1875-03-31
RICHMOND,

glad thee does not waste thy time in
hunting but thee is right about the
deer We must have fat saddle for
Christmas. Hetty will be glad to
have thee come and help eat it.
Hetty Merriweather' face was fast
assuming a more willful look than
ever, but she suddenly exclaimed,
Father, it is coming straight this
way. Don't you hear it? Oh, !!
should SO much like to sec the huntI'
''And the hunter, too, l fear,"
growled her father; but Absalom re
piled with: Did thee hear that
/ jumping? 1t is very strange if it is a
deer"
"Hetty, my child-Hetty!"
Father y
The last exclamation was almost a
scream, for even as Absalom Peck
slow tongue ceased speaking, a terri
BILE apparition sprang out through the
| bushes, and crouched for an instant,
on a low. fiat rock a.. the roadside.
Old man Mesriweather had been
born among those mountains, but
never before had he been face to face
with ANYTHING so fearful as that pan
ther The open mouth, the painting
|
uos eyes, the unusual bulk that termi-
mated in such an angry beating tail
Hetty might we'll scream, for the beast
was mad with the wounds of many
buckshot, and evidently deemed him
self at bay
| Absalom had mechanically wheeled
his mare, but his fat and comfortable
face had suddenly turned as gray as
/ h.
slant he had again reined her down
the road, digging her ribs with his
heels, and shouting, Il must go for
help = ratified away down the road,
just as the savage king of the noun
tains launched himsel If from the rock
with spring whose impetuosity car
ried him into the long, low sleigh that
obtained Hester Merriweather and
her father.
That brief moment of hesitation
had been worth something, however,
| for, before the panther could rally for
further mischief, fierce, yelplng cry
| ran out behind him. and tall, grizzly
headed stag hound followed the
painter" with unhesitating pluck,
sinking his muzzle in the monster
bloody flank, and turning his prey on
himself, for the moment.
Gallant old Grip! 1t was rash
thing for any dog to do, and in few
moments it was only too evident that
he had met more than his match.
As for the two ponies attached to
the sleigh, one would naturally have
supposed that the screams, yells,
bowling, etc, so close behind them,
would have started them on the Wild
est kind of run but their Quaker
training from col:hOod had been ad-
verse to that sort of thing, and they
seemed contented with a series of fat
and futile kicks, rears and plungeS, of
no earthly consequence to anybody
but themselves.
What had they to do with fighting
panthers?
Poor Grip.
He had done his best, and he had
done it we'll, but the long, sharp claws
were too much for him, while even the
frantic blows which Merriwcather
was striking with the butt of his whip
did as much harm to him as to his
adversary.
1t was just as Hetty Merriweather
gathered sense enough to spring out
OF the sleigh that Grips dying hold
was loosened and the panther sprang
6ercely after her The old Quaker's
fighting blood was up, and he followed
most unflinchingly: but that was an
old man with hickory whipstalk in
such fight as that, even in defense
of his own child?
Grip had disabled one hind leg for
his conqueror. or 1t might have gone
hard with poor Hetty just then. As
it was, she seemed to have lost even
the power of fight, for she turned and
faced her terrible enemy, with her
pretty hands outstretched almost as
if she meant to grapple him, in an ut
ter extremity of helpless terror.
a grapple, indeed, it would have
been in another Instant, and hand
o-hand struggle it was; but a form
better fitted for it than that of the
now pale and shrinking girl bounded
suddenly in between the panther and
his intended prey and the barrel OF q
heavy deer gun came crushing down
upon the savage brute with a force
that shivered stock and lock and even
broke the owners hold upon it.
''Hurrah that's better than IL whip
stalk = frankly exclaimed old Merri
weather, but IIetty sank down upon
the snow, with half-whisper of
Jack Maclay y
The empty gun had been put to its
best use, but all that Jack seemed to
have gained by it was time to draw his
hunting knife, for although the brute
rolled over with the force of the blow,
he was on his feet again in an instant,
not exactly as much of a panther as
he had been, but with a whole wild
catful of fight and yelling in him yet.
That. however, was by no means
Jack Maclays first experience with
the rough customers of the mountains,
and he gave his adversary no time for
a spring, but closed with him at once,
making lightning passes with his
keen edged hunting knife. while his
own garments and the flesh and skin
beneath them were fearfully scored by
the quick strokes of the wounded
panther.
1t was a terrific sight for the eyes
of Hetty Merriweather. but it had al
most it's comic side, for her broad
brimmed and broad shouldered father
continued to ply the splintered rem
nants of his hickory whip stalk with
frantic zeal that spoke better things
for his Quaker pluck than it did for
his judgment.
Well was it for Jack Maclay that
his first flying shot had been SO sue
cessful, and that faithful old Grip,
now lying dead on the bottom of the
sleigh, had done his part so CALAMITY,
for his gigantic cat seemed to have
even more than the traditional nine
lives of his tribe.
The result might have been doubt
Il e. Ill h,,x haf