The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1876-03-25
THE HERO WOMAN.
A STORY OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.

| III Ailb ollhuoWS VI viz ~
woods, not more than half mile from
the Schuylkill there stood in the time
of the Revolution a quaint old fabric,
built Of mingled logs and stone, and en-
circled by palisaded wall. 1t had
been erected in the earlier days Of Will.
liam Penn, as a blockhouse, intended
for defense against the Indians.
And now it stood with its many roofs,
its numerous chimneys, its massive,
square windows, its varied front of
logs and stone, its encircllng wall,
through which admittance was gained
by large and stoutly built gate II
stood In the midst of the wood, with
trees inclOsng its veteran outline on
every side.
From its western window yOu might
obtain glimpse of the Schuylkill
waves, while large easement in the
southern front commanded view of
the winding road, as it sunk out of
view, under the shade of thickly clus-
tered boughs, into deep hollow, not
more than one hundred yards from the
mansion.
Here, from the southern easement, on
| blC VI tuOot buithJ WhlCll
look in upon the dreary autumn toward
the close of November, farmers
daughter was gazing with dilating eyes
and half clasped hands.
Well might she gaze earnestly to the
south, and listen with painful intensity
for the slightest sound. Her brothers
were away with the army of Washing
ton, and her father, grim old veteran
he stood six feet and three inches in
his stockings-w had manifested his
love for the red coat invaders in many
desperate contest, had that morning
| left her alone I'm the mansion, alone in
this small chamber, in charge of some
ammunition intended for band ofbrave
farmers, about to join the hosts OF free
dom. Even as she stood there, gazing
out OF the southern window, faint
glimpse of sunlight from the faded
leaves above, pouring over her mild
face, shaded by clustering brown hair,
there, not ten PAGES from her side, were
seven loaded rifles and keg of powder.
| Leaning from the easement, she lis
tened, with every nerve quivering with
suspense, to the shouts of combatantS,
the hurried tread of armed men echoiDg
from the south.
! Suddenly the shouts grew nearer, and
then, emerging from the deep hollow,
there came an old man, running at full
speed, yet every few PAGES turning
round to fire the rifle, which no loaded
as he ran. He was pursued by party
Of ten or more British soldiers, who
came rushing or, their bayonets fixed,
as II to strike their victim down ere he
advanced ten PAGES nearer the house.
| On and on the old man came, while
his daughter, qulvering with suspense,
hung leaning from the window he
reaches the block house pate-look he
is surrounded, their musketS are level
ed at his head he is down, down at
their feet, graphing for dear life !
lie dashes his foes aSi e, with one bold
movement he springs through the gate;
an instant, and 1t is locked the British
soldiers, mad with rage, gaze upon the
high wall of logs and stone, and vent
their anger in drunken curses.
Now look to yonder window Where
the young girl stood moment ago,
quivering with suspense, as she beheld
her father struggling for his life, now
stands that old man himself, his brow
barred, his arm grasping the rifle, while
his gray hairs wave back from his
wIinkled and blood-dabbled face. That
was fine picture of an old veteran,
nsrved for his last fight q stout war
rior, prepared for his death struggle.
Death struggle ? Yes for the old
man, Isaac Wampole, had dealt too
many hard blows anorg the British
soldiers, tricked, foilsd, cheated them
too often to escape now. A few mo-
ments longer, and they would be rein
forced by strong party Of refugees
the powder, the arms, in the old block
house, perhaps that daughter herself
would be their reward. There was
scarcely hope for the old man, and
yet he had determined to make des-
perate fgEt.
"We must bluff off these rascals ~
he said, with grim smile, turning to
his child. Now, Bess, my girl, when
l fire this rifle, do you hand me an0th'
er, and so on, until the whole eight
are fired | That will keep them on
the other sids Of the wall for few mo-
ments at least, and then we will have
to trust to God fer the rest I"
Look down there, and see hand
stealing over the edge of the wall. The
old man levels his piece-that British
trooper falls back with crushed hand
upon his comrades heads !
No longer quivering with suspense
but grown suddenly firm, that young
girl passes loaded rifle to the veter-
ans grasp, and silently awaits the ro
suit.
For a moment all is silent below; thu
British bravoes are somewhat 10th Il
try that wall, when a stout old rebel,
rifle in hand is looking from yonde
window There is pause-low, deeI
murmurs--they are holding council
A moment IL gone, and nine head
are thrust above the wall at once
bark One--twO-three The oil
veteran has fred three shots, there ar
three dying men grovelIng in the yard
beneath the shadow OF the wall
"Qulck, Bess, my rifles !"
And the brave girl passes the ride
to her fatler's grasp there are fou
shots one after The other three NOR
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