The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1894-01-19
Of this novel expedition. Here only il

mem features and string them upon IL
par~ticolored thread. Day after day the
fishermen plie,l their rods. Day after
day the kettle, and the skillet. and the
Goals gave forth their dainties Fish
fries decked the table one day. a split
rabbit. shared in the canebrake, broiled
to a turn. served for the next. even "A ten
der shoat yieI1ed up his innocent young
life, and chowders came thick and fast
But Isarn was no longer the chief iac
tor in the daily sins committed Pain
full as the truth may seem. ii must be
told. The portly major became ac-
cessory before the fact as well as after
And worse. he became actively parti
ceps criminis. He learned to creep in
to the spreading field Of voluntary
corn"-which. by the way. invaded the
swamp lands and rose in columns of
surprising regularity-and to load IA bag
with the juicy ears. tie renewed eis
early skill and crawled behind snake
fences to abstract dew christened water
melons. In short, he gave way Ia say
agery: for the time being CIVILIZATION
knew him not
No especial time for breaking camp
had been set. but the time was al,
preaching, and the signs We're evident
The whisky had long since vanished
and the tobacco was threatening to fol
low the whisky. when an event occurred
which left a tradition that old folks III
middle Georgia yet tell with tear dim
med eyes and straining sides
The worthy pair had been foraging
for dinner and were returning heavily
laden. The major bore a sack of corn.
and Isam led the way with three water
melons. Unless the reader has attempt
ed to carry three watermelons, he will
nev know the labor that Isam had IN
posed upon himself. The two had just
reached the edge of the canebrake. be
yond which lay the camp. and were en-
tering the narrow path when a magnl
fcent buck came sweeping through and
collided with lsam with such force and
suddenness as to crush and spatter his
watermelons into a pitiful ruin n
throw the negro violently to the
ground. Instantly the frightened man
seized the threatening antlers and held
on, yelling Justify for help. The deer
made several Intellectual efforts to free
himself, during which he dragged the
negro right and left without difficulty
but finding escape impossible turned
fercely upon his unwilling captor and
tried to drive the terrible horns through
his writing body.
80 Lor, q Lori screamed Isam
20 Lor. Mass Craffud, cum holp me
tu' n dis buck loos'."
The laugh died away from Major
Worthington's lips. None knew better
than he the danger into which lsam had
plunged. Not a stick, brush, stone OF
weapon of any description was at hand
except his small pocketknife. Hastily
opening that. he rushed upon the deer
Isam's eyes were bursting from then
sockets and appealed piteously for the
help his stentorian voice was frantical-
ly imploring until the woods rang with
his agony. Major Worthington caught
the nearest antler with his left hand
and made a fierce Iunge at the animals
throat. But The knife's point was miss
ing, and only a trifing wound was in
ficted. The next instant the deer met
the new attack with a rush that carried
Isam with it and thrust the major to
the ground. the knife falling out OF
reach. Seeing this, the negro let go
his hold, rolled out of the way. and with
a mighty effort literally ran upon the
top of Il branching haw bush, where he
lay spread out like a bat and moaning
%piteously:
Stick ter i'm, Mass Crafud, stick
ter 'iml Wo', deer; wo'. deerl Stick
ter i'm, Mass Craffud!"
And the major stuck. Retaining his
presence of mind, he threw his left arm
over the deer's neck. and still holdin.
with his right the antler looked about
for Isam, who had SO m~ysterinusly dis
appeared. Something like the hold he
had had more than once IN boyhood and
served him we'll in school comtats. But
he had neve tried TO hold a full grown
buck, and so he somewhat anziously
searched the scene for the valiant negro.
The first words he heard distinctly
were:
Stick ter i'm. Mass Craffud, stick
ter i'm! Hits better fur one ter die
den bofel Hole i'm. Mass Craffud.
hole i'm! Wo', deer; wo'. deerI Stick
ter i'm. Mass Cratfudl Steddy, Look
out fur es hon. Wo'. deer, Steddy.
Mass Craffudi'
By this time the struggles OF the beast
had again ceased. and wearied from his
double encounter he stood with his head
pulled down to the ground half astride
the desperate man. who was holding on
for life. Whether MAJOR Worthington
frightened or not 1t is hard to say,
probably he was. but there was no doubt
about his being angry when he saw lsam
spread out in the haw bush and heard
his addi ess. His face was livid with
rage, and foam and sweat mingled up
on it AS 500 lis he caught bis breath
he burst forth with;
lyon Internal black rascal, why don't
you come-dnwn out of that-busl anu
help-me: Isam's face was pitiful in
its expression. His teeth chartered. and