Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1893-04-27
1884, 4 A. y ! l}!lk!e ~ =
O. E0F1unO Doun1Y

hereabouts than any man alive; the
quickest eyes and ears and legs ever
given to a poacher, and great pair of
lungs altogether
Il can do bit of running, and my
wind is sound" said I, with smiling
confidence.
''Like enough, "drawled my sergeant,
cycling me from top to toe. Every
new hand has a try at Deerfoot. and
they all think they have good limbs
and lungs of leather until they start in
pursuit of him. But they carry their
tails behind them when they return to
the barracks empty-handed. He's a
dead shot, too"
II am glad to hear all this. It gives
a fellow something to live.for. Pm not
bad shot myself"
Neither was Sub.constable Doyle,
who had the last steeplechase after
Deerfoot; and all he got for his pains
was a slug in the knee, which famed
him for life.'
And what's the history of this ter
ror, sergeant"
1--WE know next to nothing of him.
He has been wild man of the woods,
living in caves or in the trees, or
Heaven knows where or how for years
and years. Some say he is Fenian
that's been out on the hills since '66.
All that is known about him is that he
lives by poaching, and that Col. Bran
agan would probably put down another
twenty pounds if he thought there was
any chance of nabbing the wild man."
was raw sub-constable of police
from the black north-Antrim, to be
precise-when arrived. at the end of
the seventies, at the little Munster
village of Knockmullen. 1 was burst
ing with anxiety to distinguish myself,
and here was a splendid opportunity.
Knockmullen was quiet cluster of
cottages that seemed to be kneeling
piously at the feet of big white
washed chapel. On the north, east and
western sides of the village rose an
irregular mountain chain. A stream
flowed through the valley and found
its way through the southern plain to
a goodly river. The mountains were
well wooded; indeed on the northern
slope the timber grew so thiclzly as to
make progress up the slope almost an
impossibility. On the eastern side of
Knockmullen the noun tain chain rose
higher than its northern and western
arms, and the top was an abrupt and
rugged furze-coated peak, some fifteen
hundred feet above the sea level. This
hill was called Blacknock. At the far
side of Blacknock there was a great,
wide, sweeping slope stretching down
into tenantless, silent va11ey-the
most desolate spot had ever seen or
imagined-and beyond the valley more
chains of hills
Col. Branagan-a justice of the peace
and the principal landowner in Knock
mullen-lived in big house at the
southern side of the valley. The
colonel was full of years and full of
sporting fire. He was proud to be reck-
oned the best shot within twenty mile
radius. He would probably have ig-
nored the mysterious poacher who
was fattening on his preserves-for he
was a generous old gentleman-only
that the colonel knew in his heart that
Deerfoot was reckoned to be better
shot than himself
There was very little to do at my sta
ton. A petty sessions court had to be
attended fortnightly at town six miles
distant, and i'll the interval lounging
and smoking and elm bling the hills
formed my chief occupations. There
was no one in the barracks but my old
sergeant and his wife, and the Munster
villagers would not, of course, make q
friend of a policeman.
Months went on, but though kept
my eyes open and my mouth shut 1
never CHANGED to light upon Deerfoot
in my wanderings. Common report
assigned to the poacher home in some
mysterious cave at the far side of
Blacknock, and naturally Blacknock
was favorite rambling ground of mine.
learned I should have no difficulty in
recognizing the wild man of the woods.
He was of middle height, very slender
and wore no cap. His hair was long
and dark and fell over his shoulders.
He was black bearded. His costume
consisted of gray and grimy pea
jacket and corduroy trousers.
One morning took out q brand new
rifle, with which her majesty's govern
ment had just supplied me. l had COL
Branagan's leave to shoot over his
land-as u kind of encouragement to
me to bring down the bigger game
and was anxious to have little quiet
rifle practice at some plover which
dwelt at the far side of Blacknock.
1 remember feeling particularly
bu0yant as trudged up the hill, my
cleaning weapon slung over my shout
der. I got to the top of the knock, and
then unslinging my rifle descended at
the other side to favorite perch of
minea big rock jutting out from the
mountain side. Here I could recon-
hotter. Plover was my mission, but if
. could by any chance bag Deerfoot I
wouldn't mind missing the birds,
When I got to my rocky perch. was
glad to sit down-more from laziness
Of mind than of body-and view the
desolate valley at my feet and the
bleak deserted hills beyond it. There
was q strange exhilarating pleasure in
sitting here out of sound and sight of
anybody and everything save the
birds of the air. And such air!
was quietly admiring the view and
the clean run Of my shining rife barrel
when I heard q cracking sound which
warned me that some one was moving
through the furze underneath rue. /
strained my ears, vague hope of
.Deerfoot surging in my breast, and
then lowered myself cautiously and
silently from my seat and hid myself