The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1879-06-27


hard to get in them airly times.
well, I never dreamed of any harm
comm to the beasts, for the Indians had
gone, and we had no horse thieves then
about the settlements: but one fall
morning, On going out to salt 'em, /
didn't see the colt at all, although thar
was the old mar, looking wild aud
scared-like. Come to look around, l
seed whar the ground had been tramped
all about, as if a big scuffie had taken
place; and, looking further yet, found
my fine colt killed by some varmint and
hidden away in pile of fern, great
chunk having been eaten ont of its
thigh. / tell you, was mad OF
course it must have been painter that
did that, says to myself; and back 1
went for my rifle.
at did not take long to hunt up some
of the neighbors, for was determined
to have the varmint's scalp if he was
anywhar' in them hills. But, after a
days hunt, all we shot was big bar,
which was killed at the start, and which
we sunk in the creek till we came back
from the painter hunt, for we did not
mean the painter should have any bar
meat when he missed his next feast on
the colt.
"The horse-lot looked mighty lone
some for weeks after that, so that l
hated to go past it; but one day, about
six weeks after the death of the colt, as
1 was sauntering about thar with my
rifle on my shoulder, what should see
but huge painter perched up on the
big limb of tree, below the bluff, over
looking the horse-lot, and twisting his
tail and licking his chops as he was
watching one of my yearling beifers
that was feeding right along up toward
him.
thinks I your hides in the loft and
your tail hanging out, my friend; and
with that l ran to a point of the bluff
where he couldn't see NE, and, drawing
bead on him, at mighty long range,
too, l was lucky enough to break his
backbone with my bullet.
Heavens and airth, stranger, you
oughter heerd him scream Jest like a
woman-only hundred times louder
Down he went ker-chunk on to the
ground and, as he couldn't run, he jest
tore up the airth with his claws and
gave scream after scream, enough to
make ones blood run cold. But 1 tell
you, stranger, the best old Virginia
breakdown ever played on any fiddle
never made such music for me as that
painters yell. 1 knew he was the very
villain that had killed my colt; so, being
determined to get full pay, wouldn't
shoot him again, and SO end him; but l
jest went up on top of the bluff and
rolled great rocks down on him until,
at last, made perfect mash of him.
And that. stranger, is how 1 got even
with the horrid brute"
The old gentleman continued
Painters was mighty plenty in them
times, and Their warn't many settlers
that didn't have some sort of scrimmage
with one or more of them. But the
most that ever l heerd of as being in
one gang happened up on a high rioge
about ten miles from here, when / first
came to Kaintuck. That time neigh
Dor of mine and myself had agreed to
have days hunt together, for deer or
bar'-we didn't care much which-and,
on starting out from his cabin in the
morning, we agreed that each one
should take up high ridge of two that
ran up both sides of long and deep
valley, and we agreed besides that, if
either one fred, the other was to go to
him, for, you see, a bar even was not
always safe chap to handle by ones
self.
well, l hadn't been on my ridge very
long till heerd three shots, one arter
another, as quick as rifle could be
fired; and at the first one away 1 ran
down the mountain side to cross over
to the other ridge. Bout half way over,
what should see coming toward me in
the open creek bottom but a huge
painter, who, as he saw me, stopped,
not liking my looks, / thought, much
better than 1 did his'n? There he was,
squatting like dog, on his hind quar-
tiers, and staring at me with his great
yellow eyes. l aimed for his peppers
in hurry, but, to my horror, my gun
snapped! and he jumps up and comes
few steps right towards me! My eyes
begun to water, but / snapped again
and once more the horrid varmint come
few steps nearer, this time twisting his
tail about like eat watching o mouse
By this time was so scared-'tain't no
use not to own up--that my gun begun
to wobble, but, as well as could, kept
on swapping, without at last aiming at
all, in my fright, when finally the gun
went off in his very face, and the cussed
creature, scared too, turned his ugly
tail and went off down the hollow, at a
gallop, whilst the great drops of sweat
stood on my face, and my ha'r almost
raised the cap off my head, L do believe
Mighty glad, stranger, was, to get rid
of him.
"On going up to the Top of the ridge,
1 found my neighbor had killed three
panthers, one after another, as they
came trotting along the top of the ridge
toward him-the first one being she,
the others hes, and one turned tail
the one Matchmaking four in all that
were together. He told me that as he
dropped one of 'em, the others came
trotting up-and, luckily, his rifle didn't
miss fire AS mine did. Old hint-locks,
stranger, wasn't very good dependence
in painter and bar fights, though they'd
do for indians who only had flint-locks
themselves"