The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-09-03
Saved by Sheer Luck.

had been up counting the sheep, and
left the hut at dark on my road home.
The distance before me was about six
teen miles. I rode along, my mind oc-
eupied with conjectures as to the best
disposal of my sheep during the trying
drought. The road now turned down
into the river bed, and, picking his way
the best he could, my horse cheerfully
logged on his homeward path. The
mountains lowered in shadowy gloom on
either side. above me as / rode along the
side of the river, which, although con-
siderably shrunk by reason of the sum-
mer drought, churned and foamed as it's
rapid current forced it's way through the
rock-barred. channel. Occasionally the
track led through clumps of river-oak
saplings and bushes, emerging from
which L could discover bare patch of
sand, and beyond that shadow. My
horse knew the road, however, and I
cared not. Half my time was spent in
similar lonely rides, and I was not ner-
yious. I was getting nightly hungry,
however, besides which the mailman was
expected at the station, I longed to read
my home letters. MY horses shoes
clattered against the stones as I stuck
my spurs into his sides to urge him on
ward.
A sudden turning in the road showed
me number of small fires glowing
ahead. But that they were stationary I
caused by fire-fies. On my left there
were more. The sudden turning of the
river had placed some in front and some
behind, and hitherto the thick groves of
flooded oak had hidden them from my
sight. On my right frowned an over
hanging crag. Idrew my rein. Perhaps
(for blacks often chatter loudly in their
camps) they had not heard me. I lis
tened. Not sound, save the rushing,
rum bling river current. It was, after
all, perhaps, only the remains of BUSH
fire. Some of the logs were still alight,
and the night air famed the embers into
glow. Again / listened intently. If
blacks really were in the camp they must
have heard me coming no doubt they
had barred the way ahead and behind.
The broken river channel forbade my
trusting to fight. What should I do !?
Not three miles away lay poor Donnelly,
their victim, in his cold grave of wet
sand. What was his fate then might be
mine in few minutes, determined to
keep still, and wait for what might turn
mp.
Presently heard bushes rustling some
distance behind, and the voice of black
fellow uttering, in the strange tone in
which the wild savage first pronounces
English words, "Boodgeree," and again,
'Boodgeree, white fellow" (good, good
white fellow) The sound startled me-
drew my pistol Some of them should
have daylight through them, inwardly
vowed, if it came to final struggle.
Now I heard their low, rapid utterances,
in various excited tones, in front, be-
hind and above n,e-the words sswhite
fellow being repeated often. Escape was
hopeless. There was one chance for life
in the inconsistency of their behavior. I
determined to put bold on the matter,
appear at home, laugh and talk with
them, and if the worst came, sell my life
as dearly as possible. Accordingly I
shouted, Hey ! Come on Boodergee
you, my boys, come along" and a great
deal more nonsensical talk, which they
could not have understood, but which
served as well as anything else to
show them the sonfdence tried to gull
them into believing yet possessed. The
effect was magical. simultaneous
shout came from those nearest. All
around in fifty different places as many
voices broke into an unintelligible jargon,
while from the camp the noise of wo-
mems voices could be heard as they
shrilly inquired what was going on and
rendered advice or admonition.
Knowing how useless it was to do any
thing else sat still on my horse, and in
few minutes was surrounded by
dense crowd of dark, savage-eyed wild
men, all fully armed with native weap-
ons. More kept coming. There was a
perfect Babel of sounds. The gloom
was so great that could only distinguish
the dark. moving figures and long spears,
or occasionally the CLINT of pair of
fierce, glittering eyes shining out of a
paint-bedaubed visage. Now they felt
me all over. On feeling the pistol, which
I had returned to my belt. the man who
discovered it said something to the
others, who became still more excited.
They now led me, still sitting on my
horse, across the ford of the river to
their camp. And now, for the first time,
I could see the faces of my captors and
wild and deyil-like they looked as their
fires threw their light across them. Thick
masses of curly black hair, low fore
heads, short noses, large white teeth, and
short boards on the upper lip and chin,
seemed to strike me most their eyes
cleaned in the fire blaze like burning
Goals. A tall man, looking at me earn
estly for some minutes, now commenced
an animated harangue pointed to me
several times, then pointing up the river,
initiated the sound of gun being fired,
pointed to himself, and then finished by
addressing me rapidly at great length
From his manner I guessed he was
friendly to me for some cause or other,
why could not make out, but / deter
mined to take advantage of the turn in
my favor. My tall friend now made signs
that should dismount this did at
once had made up my mind to trust
my protector implicitly and at any rate not
to show fear. was by no means easy,
however, as my sable friend led me
through the scattered fires, surrounded
by number of blacks, who SO far as
could guess, seemed to coincide with
his views concerning me. Most of the
mob had departed to the fires which
behind me when first came
upon the natives.
found that there were two camps at
distance of about 200 yards apart, and
my people belonged to the small camp.
We arrived at . FIRE which, from the