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

a SAVSG SaO1.
Where the Kentucky River cuts its
way through the mountains, having upon
either bank bold, rugged cliffs that lift
their SUBMITS Eve hundred and a thous-
and feet. as the case may be, above the
stream there lived, in early times, set
tier 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 at the base of a
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
maintained very friendly attitude.
Especially were they fond of the child,
Maggie, and more that one fierce warrior
had been sitting on the grass in front of
the cabin listening to the childish pratt
tie of the little one or else engaged in
making it some toy or plaything from
twigs or bark.
In this manner several years had been
passed. and Rufus Branson came to feel as
secn-e as though he was within the wallis
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, tall savage,
whose reeling and bloodshot eye, told
that be was intoxicated, appeared, stag
gered to the log steps and threw himself
upon them. .as
His frstdemands were for "ire water" !"
which we're, of course, refused on the
plea that there was none in the house.
Ihe Indian became cross and ugly,
swearing with terrible oaths that if the
liquor was not produced, he would MUIR
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
stration-which he SOON did by attempt
ing to draw his tomahawk-Branson
sprang upon him, knocked him down with
q blow of his fist, and then disarmed
and bound him where he lay. After q
few minutes of futile efforts to free him
self, the savage rolled over and sunk into
drunken slumber.
He did not awake until next morning,
but belorehe 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 feeling there, took up
his weapons, and, without speaking a
word, left him, disappeared in the timber
that stood near by.
"What do you think of that?" asked
the wife, turning to the husband with a
scared look.
"Pshaw! Don't 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! Well not much. The fellow must
be watched. I 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 as the leaves
began 70 fall, the settler one day, while
returning from hunting on the hills, and
passing through dense piece of timber,
caught sight of figure lurking 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 and bound the previous
summer. The knowledge was not in any
way comforting, hence he did not tell his
wife of the discovery. 1t would have
alarmed her without perhaps any good
result. He merely cold 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 fastened to where they
were barking. They had struck fresh
bear trail, and as he arrived in sight
they fairly lifted it going on in 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 that it
was three or four o'clock in the afternoon.
Swinging his game to saplin, out of
reach Of cat or wolf, he started for home
to get the old gray mare and return and
catch it that night.
Taking cut he approached the cabin
from the Western side, where the timber
grew heavy up to within few rods of
the building, and consequently he could
not see the clearing, or what might be
transpiring there, until he had passed
through the wood.
Thus it wa. that when within but a
very short distance from his home, he
heard wild shrek he could guess that
something terrible must be taking place
beyond the screen of bushes and leaves.
Uttering loud shout that his presence
might sooner be made known, Branson
sprang forward with the leaps of a
wounded buck, great fear at his heart,
but he had only too clearly recognized
in that scream, the agonized voice of his
wife. It took but moment for him to
near the intervening timber and under
growth, and as he dashed out into the
clearing, holding bis rifle ready for in
slant use, he comprehended in one swift
glance, all that had taken place and
what was further.
Near the end of the cabin, facing the
cliffs of which have spoken stood the
mother, her face as white as the dead,
her arms outstretched, and her staring