The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-07-21
THE WILDLY IS STILL QUEEN.
She Bosses a Lot of Daredevil Luu-
bermen in Arkansas.
From the Chicago Times


Memphis, Tenn, July 1S.-Over in the
Sunk lands" of the St. Francis river in
Arkansas, thirty miles from Memphis and
about as far from anywhere else, there is
timber camp, the home of dozen
swampers who make living by getting
out slaves. They are a devil-may-care
lot, owing allegiance to no power save
mat OF the Winchester rife in the quick
est hand, and rendering obedience to none
save the Widow Mcbride
ms lady IS the queen by courtesy OF
The camp and the whole surrounding
region, since she rules the rulers thereof.
her sway IS not dependent upon the
ghostly charter of tradition, nor sane
tlOned oy any statute, yet it is undls-
puted, and for reason that will be read
ny understood. She is the chief cook Of
the party, and has it in her power TO
make or mar even the tough digestion OF
men accustomed to the rude fare of the
wlIos. Moreover, she is the only person
thereaoout who can say prayer, cir
cumstanee which is not without influence
among the most hardened of the
oJher sex, and she depOrts herself
IN all respects so as to command their
esteem. To say that the widow enjoss
the situation would be putting it very
mildly. She fairly reyels in it, but she
mas TOO much tact TO abuse her authority,
and so the yoke is scarcely felt by her
loyal subjects. Since the day when her
stalwart husband was brought into camp
dying from the bite of ''cottOnmouthn
moccasin She has never left the place,
deVotlng her energies to the cuisine of
the outfit and the care of her two sturdy
sons one 10 and the other years of age
Living thus isolated. and frequently
LETT for days with no companionship save
that of her boys and an old colored
--S- L IL
work, the Widow Mcbride has become
self-reliant to degree that her more IA
vored sisters of the settlement would re-
gard as impossible. She is a tirSt-rate
shot with pistol, rife and double barrel
in fact, some of the most fastidious of
her vassals whisper that her markham
ship is great deal better than her cook
ing, though they never breathe
such a criticism where she can hear
it. Many a turkey has she slain
with her favorite IS Winchester, and
when IL comes to bringing down ducks
on the wing she asks no odds of any man
of the party. Nor is she slow in the
slaughter OF bigger game. Deer by the
dozen have fallen before her unerring aim
and last winter she dropped big panther
that was surveying the camp from the
fork of tall cypress in the neighboring
cane brake
These exploits, however, she counts as
trivial in comparison with one which dates
back only two weeks ago. 1t was a rec
ord of three bears In one afternoon, and
the widow confidently challenges all
hunters east of the Rockies to show the
like. Here is the story as she told it
few days ago to the writer, who CHANGED
TO be her guest for the night while hunt
ing in the vicinity:
Il was after takin' bit av a walk be-
tune dinner and shutdown along the path
there that leads into the canebrake be-
yant. The childher was wild me an | TUX
me pistol along. It's habit have since
I run up on big wildcat one time an not
so much as a stick to me hands If the
crathur hadn't turned tail / shud a-done
that same, an foine chase twud been,
| do be thinkin'.
AS was sayin', we was goin' along
the path when me littlest by Micky, who
was prancin' on in the road like b'ys will
do, runs back an says he: Ma, there's
some bears beyant,' says he. How
manyl' says for sure there's naught
strange in any kind av wild crathurs be-
ing around here Three says he. "A
old she an two cubs says he. There |
was wild nothin' at all, barrin' that bit av
pistol, an four hundred pound av good,
fresh meat to be killed. But me moind was
made up in fifty Ma says Johnny
that's me oldest-'ma, 'sposen we go
home 'Indade an I'll not says /. for
me blood was up. 'Micky,' says l, do you
stay wild me, an Johnny, you run back to
camp and git the rife says l.
vivid that me an Micky moves on up
the path, and there was the three bears,
the ould one mp tree eatin' muscadines
and the cubs-half grown, they was
playln' on the ground betune US an her
Me molnd was to wait for the gun, but
the cubs, scented US an begin TO run an I
draa II
knew was runnin' upon 'em an Micky
backin' me up wild stick in his fist the
size av rollin' pin. l shot the nearest
one av the cubs in the head, an he keeled
over, dead as Moses. 1t took two shots to
do the other, an there l was wild two
ca tridges in NE pistol an a big mother
bear forninst me. By the help av the
saints she didn't make move till I'd fin
ished the cubs.
But thin she got warmmed UP. lust
like I'd be if anybody d be huftin' johnny
and Micky-sure didn't think av that
whin l was KILN the hairy little divils,
bad luck to me! Down the tree she kim,
an there l stud wild Micky behint me to
take me chance wild the mad crathur and
nothin but two little pistol bullets be-
tune us an purgatory. For twas no
good runniu' thin; she'd caught US in no
time. But just as her behiuU legs was
most on the sod Johnny run up wild the
rifie-glory be to God-an' thin 1 felt
bould as lion. l grabbed the gun. an
says to Johnny: On yez life. is the
cartridge within2' says L 1t is
says he. Be this time the bear
had her hind feet on the earth I
stuck the muzzle of the gun to her ear an
pulled trigger That settled her. Av
course, three bears in wan avenin's a
great bag, intirely, but all the same, me
Inoind misgives me about it. When 1
look at Johnny and Micky playin' to-
gether it seems TO me l done name trick
in KILN them cubs an their mother that
way"
And the Widow Mcbride turned to her
Sizing frying pan with q sigh. Like
other queens she had felt the thorn in
her crown.