The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1894-09-13


courage. He crept back to his fire.
The smoke had penetrated the fur
thest recesses of the fissure,. and was
now beginning to issue from the open
ing which Coon was guarding. He
coughed now and then, but manfully
stood his ground, hoping every minute
for the appearance Of the ghost. He
wanted the matter settled. His gun
was leveled at the center of the fls-
sure
"Ss-ss-ssi' scratch, scratch, and an
other such unearthly yowl, as bad
greeted them once before. It came
from the larger mouth of the hole.
Bud scrambled around the corner just
in time to see Coon drop his gun and
desperately clutch at something which
looked like the grayish ghost they had
seen before. Then ha'nt and boy had
rolled over and over, locked in death
like grip, over the ledge and down into
the rushing, roaring waters of Lost
creek.
The creek was almost q whirlpool
here, for not far away 1t swept in a cir
cling flood down into it's grave under
the mountain. 1t was dangerous
place at any time. Coon was In the
wildcats death-grip now. and could
not have freed himself, even had he
dared to loose his hold on the crea-
ture's throat.
But Bud was no coward. Much as
he feared ha'nts he could be absolutely
fearless in ordinary circumstances;
and in that moment on the brink of the
ledge he had recognized the ghost.
The instant the combatants rose to
surface. Bud was kneeling on the
ledge, with his old gun aimed unerr-
ingly. In that instant he fred. Then,
dropping swiftly down hand over hand,
by the bushes and the trees. he reached
the bank and plunged in to rescue the
almost exhausted Coon. When Bud
had finally drawn him to the shore,
Coon was still grasping the dead Wild
cat. The boys face was covered with
blood, and both face and hands were
badly scratched, but there was no Sc
rious injury. Bud pulled the dripping
hero up on the bank silently, and
washed away the blood-stains.
"Hit come mighty nigh klllin' ye,
Coon," he said at last, vainly striving
to keep the tones of his voice even.
The boys had been friends all their
lives and loved each other with love
as strong as was David's and Jona-
than's of old. But mountain boys say
even less of what lies nearest their
hearts than boys elsewhere.
Although both hearts on the bank of
Lost creek that day were full of the
thought that they had faced death to-
gether but moment before, Coon
made no answer. In his heart, how
ever, he registered silent vow that
he would never forget how I'ud had
saved him at the risk of his own life,
and Bud was proudly thinking how
brave his comrade always was, and
mentally determining always to stick
by him.
Lost creek rushed on. A buzzard
was circling far above the pine trees
on the opposite cliff. Coon shivered
slig htly; if he had gone down in those
waters! And that buzzard! He was
glad it could never pick his bones.
That lame little sister, Mary Ann,
down in the cove, would have watched
in vain for his coming, but for Bud.
He turned the dead wildcat over. 1t
was an unusually large one. The
creatures had seldom been known to
come SO far down on the mountain IN
these later years.
''Ef ha'nt air human dead
already, gun couldn't make hit no
deader," Coon argued, ref1ectively.
"But slnudgin' an gun war all we
uns he'd ter fight with. l low that the
only way ter do in this worlds jest ter
make use er what body does know,
tell he runs up ag'in the thing what he
kin use. We-uns done the best thing,
low" he concluded, philosophically,
"fur we-uns Jean Halifax, in N. Y.
independents