The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1886-07-21
The Story OF Big Jim.
"He's a. a.bul!y!"
"IIe's a coward -

The Story Of Big Jim.
"He's a. bully"
GILES a cowardm
Giles got to hang!"
"That's his third mani"
The one narrow street Of the frontier
town was filed with a surg.ng crowd of
excited men They were Indian fighters,
scouts, gamblers, tramps, miners, specu-
lators-everything and everybody.
Every town has its bully-every from
tier town. Big Jim was the bully ;
Hill city. He could drink more, curse
louder, shoot quicker and start a row
sooner than any other man. When he
shot Limber Joe it was stand-off. It
was rough against rough. Whoever went
under the town would be the gamer. The
death of his second victim brought him
certain respect, for he had given the
man fair show. There was limit to
the number of men one might shoot in
Hill City. It was three times and out.
Big Jim had killed his third.
Two hundred men-all cxcitcd-some
half-crazed-all indi gnant-somc terri
bly, aroused, surged down the street to
the Red Star Saloon bent on vengeance.
Big Jim and the man he had killed were
alone in the place.
Bring him out?"
Giles got to hang"
"Bring out the bully and cowardP
There was rush, but it was checked.
Men had knives and pistols in their
hands, but the sight of Big Jim with
''navy in each hand cooled their ardor.
A life for life is ne revenge. They lied
when they called him a bully. Bullies
strike and run or bluster and dare not
strike. They lied when they called him
coward. Cowards do not remain to
face death.
Big Jim advanced little. The crowd
fell back. He stood in the door and sur
veyed the mob as cody as another man
might have looked up at the pine-covered
crest of Cartcr's Peak. The mob grew
quiet. There were 200 right hands
clutching deadly weapons, but not
hand moved. Two hundred to one is
appalling odds, but the one was master.
Seeming to face every man of them
seeming to cover every breast with the
black muzzles of his revolvers-the man
backed away up tine road into the dark
ness, out of their sight and hearing. He
said not word. There wasn't whisper
from the crowd until he had disappeared.
Then men drew long breaths of relief. A
terrible menace had passed away.
Out into the darkness-down the
rough road-over the rude bridge, and
there Big Jim put up his revolvers,
turned his face square to the West, and
stepp:d out without q look back at
the camp. 1t was ten miles to Harney's
Bend. Men driven from the one camp took
refuge in the other. The half way land
mark was a bit of valley skirted by a
creek. Wayfa-ers who were journeying
by team many times halted here. On
this night there was lone wagon.
Uuder the canvas slept mother and four
children. Resting against wheel was
the husband and father, his eyes pccril'g
into the darkness-his ears drinking in
every sound.
Big Jim had not reached the valley
yet when the still night air was rent with
war-whoops-the crack Of rihes-the
screams of a woman and her children.
Indians had discovered the lone and al
most defenseless family. There were
FIVE scalps to adorn their lodges. The
bully and the coward had not been dis
covered. He could find q safe hiding
place. Did he?
A half-dozen screaming, yelling fends
were dancing about the wagon--shoot-
ing-striking -dodging-closing in on
the white man who somehow escaped
their blows and bullets, when there was
cheer and a rush, and the Navys
began to crack. Sixty seconds later
dead silence had fallen upon the valley.
One-two-three dead Indians. The
immigrant leaned against the wagon,
faint with wound in his head. The
wife looked out with an awful terror at
her heart. Bullets had Clipped and
splintered wheel and body.
"Who are you2" asked the immigrant
asa figure approached him from the dark
ness.
"Big Jim."
"You have saved US from a massacre. y
"Yes, it was we'll that I happened
along. Rouse up the fire, for there is no
further danger"
When the blaze caught the fresh fagots
and lighted up the little valley the immi-
grant counted the dead Indians again
one-two-three. He turned with ex.
tended hand, bat Big Jim had departed.
Next day, when men from Hills and
Harney's found his dead body beside the
rocks a mile away, with five wounds
which had let his life-blood out, they
whispered to each other:
''We thought we knowcd him, but
we didn't" = Detroit Free Press