Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1879-10-23

the stiffness of the mid-forest air. 1t
seemed to me as ii there were two re-
ports almost simultaneous; but just as
[ came to the conclusion that it must
have been merely the echo of Marston's
gun, the thought suddenly struck me
that he had that morning left his rifle
at the lodge, as he expected to be laden
with peltries on his return, and the rifle
would make his journey rather irksome.
No sooner had this flashed through my
mind than | felt sure that some Of the
wandering Indians, who perhaps knew
of Marston's solitary habits, had at
tempted to murder him for his peltries
and traps.
Leaving the partridge undiscovered, 1
hastily turned in the direction of the
camp. Among the first things that met
my eye on reaching it, was a small
mink skin hanging from the brackets
where my gun usually hung, and on
looking at the inside of this [ read the
following words rudely scrawled there
on with the point of bullet:
'Injuns round. I've been hit. Keep
dark. Foller round by Otter Bluff
This confirmed my suspicious, and l
hastily turned to obey the injunctions
of my wounded friend, when [ be-
thought me that I had better conceal
some Of my effects and secrete the
most valuable of the peltries. Imagine
my surprise when found most of the
furs gone, as well as every article of
mine, or indeed anything that would
betray the fact that two men lived in
the camp. l did not quite comprehend
this maneuvre till some time after
wards. then quietly crawled through
the woods to the collection of rocks
that my friend, for some fanciful rea-
son of his own, had chosen to call the
Otter Bluff.
1t was late in the day when [ arrived
at the bluff, and, mounting YEARLY to
the top, looked around for Marston,
but he was no where to be seen. Fear
ing that he had tainted from loss of
blood, [ made careful, though eau
tious search among the crags and ra-
vines where man might possibly have
dragged himself, but could see no sign of
him, and concluded that, through weak
ness, he had not been able to get there
as soon as I had; SO sat myself down
in little thicket of young cedars that
crowned one of the peaks, where [
could see without being seen myself, to
await his coming. Here [ crouched
till dark, but still no sign Of my COM
rade. Tormenting doubts now beset
my mind, and / began to fear that
Marston had either been captured in
his retreat to the bluff or that he had
been unable to reach it from loss of
blood; | even pictured him lying among
the maple leaves, stained with a deeper
than their own deep dye, perishing
from thirst and weakness.
While debating what course to pursue
| perceived g. bright light some miles
or more off could scarcely see how
far it might be IN the gathering dark
ness; but, IS no attempt at conceal
ment was made, [ concluded it proceed
ed either from Marston, who had out
witted his enemies, or from those enc
mics themselves, who, III that event,
thought must have captured Or killed
my poor friend, in spite of his keen
woodcraft, IS otherwise they would be
too wary thus to draw on themselves
the vengeance of the wounded trapper
[ Immediately descended from my
perch and cautiously crept along the
shaded edge of the river, keeping well
under the over-hanging branches of the
bordering cedars. In this way L must
have crept forward for full hour, and
still the fire seemed far away. As [
stopped at bend in the river, on the
far side of which the fire burned with
increased fury, large owl flew from
his perch in an overhanging tree, and
silently betook himself to a safer dis
lance from his natural enemy. As the
ill-omened bird spread its soft, noiseless
wings to the night air, [ bethought me
that if Marston were near, [ could
communicate my presence to him by
initiating its cry, which [ had often re-
peated in the hut when we lay listening
to the awakened chorus outside. Plac-
ing my hands over my mouth / emit
ted three or four of those weird, dismal
cries, which were re-echoed by the
sombre woods until the far river bend
returned its ghostly answer.
Hastily looking to my rifle, and as
surfing myself that the printing was all
right, hurried on silently aud STEALTH
ly until within an eighth OF mile
of the light. When [ parted the
branches, behind whose shade I had
cautiously advanced, and looked in the
direction of the blaze, l beheld a sight
that sent the cold blood and chill back
on my heart. Before me, on the grassy
plot in front of our hut, were seated
three brawny savages, naked, and paint
ed with black and vermilion stripes, and
two others, in similar" Costume" were
dancing around a young birch tree to
which was bound, hand and foot, poor
Bill Marston
waited to see no more, but hurrying
forward as rapidly as possible from the
nature of the ground and my desire to
remain unseen. [ soon came to the
thick growth of young trees in the MIDST
of which our hut had been built. There
was of course no nut now. Everything
had been destroyed that would be use
less to our savage foes; the rest most
likely lying in full view of their misera-
BILE owner. On my hands and knees |
forced my way silently through the
thick underwood until within forty
yards of the hostile circle. This move
ment had of course taken some time
for to break a twig or stir a leaf would
have insured my destruction-andw when
| again parted the branches before me,
| found the two Indians busily piling
around their prisoner materials for a
fire wherewith to roast him. I plainly
saw that prompt action alone would
save Marston, who was cursing the
blasted, Speaking, cowardly, red-skinn-