The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1878-11-14
a CLOSE SHOT.

Where the Kentucky River cuts its
wa through the mountains, having upon
either bank bold, rugged cliffs that lift
their SUBMITS five hundred aud n th0us.
and feet. rs the case may be, above the
stre'ni there lived, in early times, set.
tles by the name of Rufus Branson. who
with his wife and only child, charming
little girl of some eight or nine years
occupied rude cabin Mt the base Of
precipice little back from the river.
Although greatly exposed to danger
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 al.
ways welcome and provided with such
food as might be in the larder, they
Especially were they fond of the child.
Maggie. and more that one fierce warrior
had been sittng on the grass IN front of
the cabin listening to the childish prat.
tie of the little one or else engaged in
making it some toy or plaything from
twig5 Or bark.
In this manner several years had been
passed, and Rufus Branson came to feel as
secure as though lie was within the wall's
of frontier fort.
One evening Branson and his wife
were seated near the doorway when SUD.
denly shadow fell across the threshold
and the next moment, n tall savage.
whose reeling and bloodshot eye, told
that he was intoxicated, appeared, alag.
gered to the log steps and threw himself
upon them.
His frat demands were for "fire water"
which were, of course, refused on the
plea that there was none in the house.
The Indian became cross and ugly,
swearing with terrible oaths that If the
liquor was not produced, he would mur.
der the household. Branson was brave
man, although he dreaded the necessity,
yet he saw that he would be compelled
to take prompt steps to prevent the saw.
age from executing his threats. Wait.
ing until the warrior had made demon.
etration-which he soon did by attempt.
ing to draw his tomahawk- k-Branson
sprang upon him, knocked him dc~n with
q blow Of his fist, and then disarmed
end bound him yhese he lay. Anera
few minutes of futile efforts to free him.
self, the savage rolled over and sunk into
drunken slumber.
Ho did not awake until next morning.
hut before he did so, the settler had
quietly removed his bands and restored
the weapons, which he laid by the sleep
er's side.
The savage on waking rose slowly to
his feet, felt his wrists, as though the
thongs had left a feeling there, took up
his weapons, and, without speaking q
word. left him, disappeared in the timber
that stood near by.
What &c &c. think cc :h!.s.?" asked
trnx E. f.,rn - L
scared look.
"Pshaw! Don's trouble yourself about
the drunken BRUTE" answered the settler
lightly, but as he turned away, and step
ped into the yard, he muttered "Like
it! We'll 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 circumstances"
The summer passed; they saw the
drunken guest no more. He failed to
make his appearance. But Us the leaves
began to fall, the settler one day, while
returning frcm hunting on the hills. and
passing through dense piece of timber.
caught sight of a figure lnrking in the
bushes, but which quickly disappeared
when he advanced towards where it was.
The figure was that of an Indian warrior,
and Rufe Branson would have sworn
that it was the Indian whom he had
knocked down aad bound the previous
summer. The knowledge was not ia any
way comforting, hence he did not tell his
wife of the discovery. It would have
alarmed her withou. perhaps any rood
result. He merely told her he had dis.
covered 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 Branson
heard his dogs in the timber, down by
the river, and, knowing that they never
opened without good cause, he caught up
his rife and hastened to where thew
were barking. They had struck a fresh
bear trail, and as he arrived in sight
they fairly lifted is going on in a straight
line down the river.
The chase had led him several miles.
and when at last he got his shot, that
finished Bruins career, he found thn. it
was three or four o'clock in the afternoon.
Swinging his game to saplin, out os
reach of cat or wolf, he started for homo
to get the old gray mare and return and
catch it that night.
Taking g CT. be approached the cabin
from the Western side.where the timber
grew heavy up TO within o few rods of
etAO CdAiNtbtiJ ohA consequently uG COutQ
not see the clearing, or what might be
traaspiring there, until he had passed
through the wood
Thus it was that when within but a
very short distance from his home, he
heard wild shriek; he could guess that
erpiething terrible must be taking place
beyond the screen of bushes and leaves.
Uttering q loud shout that his presence
might sooner be made known, Branson
sprang forward with the leaps of q
wCstrded buck, great fear at his heart,
BIT no had only too clearly recognized
In thaE Escgean, the agonized voice Of his
wife. Lttoos bnt d moment for him 20
nearithe intervening timber and under
growth, and as hsdashed out into tho
clsarinE, holding bis rife ready for In
....sss:..s nee ae c6inprehended in one swift
gianca.Sai slas had taken place and
sghnt sFa f,iTk1eF. VA
Near the end Of The cabin, facing the
cliffs OF AZ hfch 4 liase spoken stood The
- l.s. her face rs white as the dad,
heg arms outstretchni, and her staring
eySs Se6 npoh the pEecipitous height