The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1879-11-14
Select Story.
BACKwOODsMAN'S STORY.

Il tell you it's an awful thing to go
through said Tom Mopson-'a mans last
night on earth, when he knows he's got to
be hung in the mornn'.'
why, were you ever in that fix p in
quired one of the listeners.
IF you'd like to hear it, answered Tom,
IN tell you the story
by general invitation he proceeded, first
replacing his quid with fresh one.
IT'S now more'n thirty years. said Tom,
since took a notion to 20 and settle in the
backwoods.'
There want another cabin within five
miles of mine, which made it little lone
some whiles but it's q good thing to be out
oreach o. bad company, and always liked
an Independent life-so on the whole, got
along quite comfortable.
| One night, WAS about putting out the
light, after saying my prayers, afore goin' to
bed when there came quick knock at the
door.
hurried to open it, when . man stag
gered in. His look was wild and his face
pale.
"Help help' he gssped Tm afraid
I've got my death woundp
4 caught him in my arms and half-carried
him to bed.
"It's here he said, when had laid him
down, placin' his hand on his breast.
Quick as Icould I tore open his clothes,
and close to where I could see his heart
beatiE' was round red mark, with q slow
stream of blood trinkling from it.
I'D seen bullet wounds sfore, and know d
at once what was the matter.
4 feel Pm dyin',' said the stranger, after
| lying awhile with his eyes shut.
Il hope not said 1, I'd go for doctor,
| but there's none higher than ten miles
'Twouldn't be no use.' says he. No doc.
tor could get at where the trouble is. I'm
filling up with blood inside, and it'll soon
| choke me-
Il know'd what he meant. He was shot
in the chest and was bleeding inwardly.
There is one thing l want you to do,
says he, 'on your word of honor to dying
| man.
What is it p says I.
will you give me your word to do 1t ?
says he.
Il will says l, IF it's a thing an honest
man may do
Il wouldn't ask you to do nothing else,
says he-'not in my last moments. Pve go
my death from one I've always loved dearly
Should he be discovered and punished fol
his crime, it would disgrace name which
prize more than life. No one seen me CONF
here. When I'm dead bury me in some Sc
eret spot and say nothin', and then nobod,
will ever know my fate but you and the mai
whose conscience will be his own punish
ment.'
Il looked down in the pale face turned NJ
to mine. There was somethin' 80 beseechin
in it, that hadn't the heart to say no.
Il took his hand and pressed tit wa
fast CROWN cold.' .
81 PROMISE said /.
He lay qniet speli-then took away hi
hand, and from an inside pocket took out
thick wallet.
Take this-it is yours he said, putin
in my hand-'there's no one else now
would wish to have it,
4 pushed it back, but he said
Keep tits my last wish
Then his eyes turned CLASSY. drcppe'
the pocket book, and catchin' him in 10.
arms raised up his head. He gave one q
two long breaths, and sank back dead.
Il laid him down gently, folded his arm
across his breast, closed his eyes. and cover
ed his face with the sheet.
'Pd been too long out there on the borde
to fear bein' alone with dead man and G
any possible consequences to myself wa
too confused then to think.
'Afore knov'd, daylight was streamir
in at the window.
Il must keep my word said l; and &c
up and went out and got my spade. Dow
near by my cabin was shady nook wher
the wild grape vines had growed up over tn
trees, maxim a sort OF nat raj arbor.
There's where III lay him. says 1
and went to work and dug grave at
spot where the vines hung down like weepin
willers. Then snt back to the house an
windin' the body in my best sheet, carrie
it in my arms, and laid it in the grave.
Earth to earth and dust to dust, says
before shovelin' in the clay. I..
When I'd finished, and had scraped bac
; the dead leaves over the grave SOS to hid
the spot, and was just turnin' away, VIII
. should step out afore me but Jess Rvker,
'Hev you been diggin' ginsang, neighbor
, says he, with an iuquisitive grin.
No, ! hain't,' says ], a little .nusty, an
! walkin' of, for I never liked Jess pryi
ways.
well, some days afterwards was sitti
in my cabin reading my Bible when SOU,
Of men rid up and came in without waiti
) to'be asked.
"You. are my prisoner 7 says The one
the head, clappip' his han2 on my shoal
er. tn tLt,
"What for 2 says l.