Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1884-03-08
A 6EMIHisceEcE.
OF q Hanaiess Teanessee1H IN Ga'fornf0 IN
18S5.-Nho Was re?

gold on Kanaka Creek, one of the
many branches of the famous Yuba
River, in Sierra county, California.
Our camp or village was about eight
mile south of Downieville, the
county site, where we bought most
of our supplies. On our arrival
myself and partner put up at the
only place where strangers could be
accommodated, that WAS a large,
double log cabin, the front room
devoted to miners tools and sup
plies ON the north side, the other
side to the inevitable bar-rOom,
where we could get all kinds OF
liquor by planking up Is cents per
drink, and as there was about 60
"honest sons of toll" in our camp
who would average six square
drinks per day each, the bar did
fiourishing business. AS the day
passed, we noticed that every few
minutes one or more miners would
call in to take a drink. We also
noticed everyone to be armed with
a pair OF Colts six shooters, and
most of them with long knife
stuck in their boots. AT length
there walked in a tall, fine looking
tlAC SACCAthS,
All! come in Tennessee i am re-
ally glad to see you what will you
have to drink? But Tennessee
seemed to be looking at partner and
myself. strangers, / see, just
struck in to-day" remarked the
polite bar-keeper. "Glad to see you
gentleman" says Tennessee; will
you join me in drink ?'' OF course
we Joined. After our drinks we're
furnished, the writer says:
'Sir; the calling of you Tennes-
see made me almost jump for joy.
You are from that State, | sup
pose ?"
"Yes," he remarked, ST was born
and raised near Brownsville, Hay
, wood county,"
"Why, sir" 1 said, "that is my
native county. My father was one
of the early settlers, aud was born
near Wesley camp ground"
| then introduced myself, telling
him my parents lived in Memphis.
OF course after giving HIM our
names we expected him to give US
his, but to our surprise he did not.
Looking at me with a peculiar
flush of the eye, he said:
"My son." if you and your friend
wish TO stop here and keep the
friendship of old Tennessee, you
must know me by no other name"
He started out, and when near
the door beckOned to the writer.
Pointing down the creek he said:
"You see that log cabin on the
side of the mountain. That is
where / rest | cannot say l live,
for | do not. | only exist. You,
my son, come down to my cabin the
first thing in the morning. / have
something to say to you, and to you
alone"
Can you imagine the feelings of a
boy but Is years of age, 5000 miles
from kindred and friends, when he
gets such an order-an order that
the giver expected to be obeyed. l
now really feared the man.
"Mr. Barkeeper, can you tell me
the name of that man? ?"
"NO," said ne, There is not one
in this camp that knows his name.
i advise you to make but few in
quiries for the name of Tennessee; |
he is dangerous man to make |
mad, and can shoot the eye of a |
jay-bird cut on the wing. Every |
man in this section knows HIM,
fears him." etc.
Next morning, after breakfast, | |
buckled on my siX-shOOter and |
made my way to Tennessee's cabin, |
with much fear / admit, but fully |
determined to hear what he had to |
say TO me, a mere boy in age. When |
/ reached the cabin l found the door |
shut. Knocking loud and strong, |
it was opened quietly by Tennessee. |
"Ah! Little Tennessee Ga name
he gave which stuck to me so long
as | remained in that section) come
in. / am really glad you have come
to see me-"
He shut the door, boiling it, and
/ was really alarmed. He noticed
it, and says:
"Boy, boy you need not fear me,
would die rather than harm, or see
any one else harm you"
He made me sit down by the big, |
roaring fire; insisted on my telling
him of my parents, and everything
connected with my family; when
father settled in Haywood county
QS2S l think) and when / had
about finished he sat sometime
very still, with both hands over his
face. Finally dropping his hands,
and, to my establishment, the noble
man had been shedding tears. Tears
were flowing freely down his sun
burnt cheeks.
"Oh, sir, please let Little Tennes-
see be your friend"
He looked at me with his large
greyish eyes, almost blueish eyes,
and said
"My boy, do you mean it; do
you want poor old Tennessee for a
friend p"
"I do; let us be the best of
friends"
He caught my hands, giving a
hearty shake, and before ! knew it
had me in his arms, hugging me as
he would a child. 1t may seem
strange, but we were both crying
as if we were children instead of
rough miners in a far off rugged
far off from our loved
ones in the dear old State of Ten
nessee.
"Oh, NY boys" he said when we
had become a little quiet, ~ did
intend to give you my name, and
let you know the most of my histo-
ry, but now, Little Tennessee, you
are my friend, and / confess to you
/ am coward. l fear to tell you
all, fearing 1 might lose you as a
friend, so boy you must know me
as Tennessee" It
| pleaded and begged hard, so l
could write to kindred and friends
in Brownsville, in case anything
should happen, but he WAS as firm
as a rock. I
''No, no, boy; let it remain as it
is. Know me by no other name.
If i am killed or die in any way, {
do what will be the last and best
deed you can do for your poor {
friend. See that l am put away
under the sod," etc.
Suffice it to say we were more
han friends until death parted !
Us.
Mr.. Editor, l Will describe as .
near as / can from memory, Ten !
1essee, my friend" Some of his I
may recollect him, or per-
maps living father or mother may !
the likeness of long lost I
ION, or brothers or sisters of long