The Dawson journal., 1885-07-09

He was the father of FIVE children.
three boys and two girls. Both
daughters are dead. Two of his
sons were killed in the Confeder-
ate and the other in the Union
service. He has vivid recollee-
ton OF the days Of slavery and re-
lates many startling Incidents con-
nected with the lives of ESCAPED
slaves who fled to the mountain
fastness for refuge.
Here, too, was the hiding place
OF many deserteps from both arm
les, and he has many souvenirs in
the shape Of army equipments of
the troubulous days. He cares
little for what is transporting in
the outside world, and manifests a
decided aversion to politics. His
Bible is his constant companion.
and, although he has never been
to church bat twice in his life, he
can converse intelligently about
the Scriptures and is apparently
living a life of piety and peace.
lie listened with the profoundest.
interest to the relating of the phe-
nomenal shooting of Bogardus
and Carver, and with a smile he
shrugged his shoulders, saying:
Thar, strangers, you're comm
to the pint now. Why, when i
was yonng," and he stopped to
think; "when 1 was young, about
2O, L guess, [ could outshoot any
man in the valley. We used to
swing an apple on string, an,
mountin' our horses, gallop like
mad ard fire at it, [ could hit it
every time. I tell you them were
glorious days. But my sights
not like it used to be an / amt
got the nerve power" he said,
with sigh.
FEATs OF MARKsMANsHIP. ~
why he continued, 81 could
knock an apple off a post nine
times out'n ten fifty yards away,
an | could take the bill off a bird
In tree as clear as whistle an
never disturb a feather. That's d
fact"
What do you regard as the
most sklllful shotyou ever made?"
we asked.
"You mean the best one I ever
made; yes, an 1 mought say, fer
that, the happiest one O my life,'
We nodded in the affirmative. :
well, strangers he began,
"I'll tell you all about it. 1t whar
years ago, though; I was 81 then,
an but few people lived herea-
bouts, an what did whar a good
ways apart. Down in the tother
end o the valley lived John An
gleford, who had darter, an |
loved her like mad, but some way
or other she didn't kinder want
to hitch to me. About three
miles away lived another man,
who had son, an she tux to that
boy; this made me kind O. jealous
like an'him an me used to fit Of
ten. But l didn't give in; I'd
made up nay mind to git that gal
Of / could. One day, in the fall O
the year-I'll never forgit that
day" he said, with emphasis, Il
shouldered old Faithful that's
my musket, an went up into the
mountains to see what kind O.
game was abroad. We'll, I reckon
I'd been trudgin' around in the
thicket for nigh onto three hours
without SEEM Of a thing, when all
of sudden l hearn q scream that
almost friz my blood. / heard it
agin, and l knowed it whar a wo-
mans holier, SO ies' cocks odd
Faithful an starts through the
bushes, but afore I got to the
openin' [ heard horses hoofs a
clapkerin' an a clatterin' over the
stones. I hQrried right on to the
openin', an thar | seed what it
whar all about. l seed it at
glance. Old Angleford's horse
whas a-tearin' along like as if the
old boy whar after him, an
thar whar Sarahy Jane, her face
as white as chalk, a~clingin' to his
back for dear life, an right be-
twix her an the horses head, his
claws driv into the flesh of the
horses neck, a-tryin' to reach the
gal, whar the biggest catamount |
ever seed.
A DELICATE SHOT.
"Your times come, John" says
I to myself. Steady, now; aim
right an you'll win the GAL Jes'
as that ar boss with a screamin'
gal got opposite to me / blazed
away for the catamount's head. l
knew it war life or death to one of
the three on 'em, but l didn't mis-
calculate; / never did. The load
went into that ar catamount's
head, and he rolled over dead ON
the ground; the boss stumbled, AN
as he disappeared over the preci-
pice [ cotched the faintin' gal in
my arms an hurried down the
road with her to her home. For
a long time she had ragin' fever
and kept a-eallin': is he come?
is he Gomez Nobody could tell
what it meant. You see, men
them days would go off an stay
for days albumin, so Athe absence