The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1903-10-29
CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER III.
Ann Rutledge heard through the
open window Peggy's muff1ed cry and
struggle, and ran to the door, BY star,
| light it was barely possible to see a
shadow fleeing from the hand-mill; but
AntyWine La Chance, in pursuit of it.
passed across the bar of light, 1.-the,
long-bodied and long~limbed shape.
his uncovered blond hair flying back
from a face cut like the high-bred
features of French noble. He
bounded by the hand-mill and crossed
a fence at the foot Of the garden.
When Antywine thought he was
about to overtake the object down
the ravine, scamper of horses
hoofs sounded through the valley.
Peggy's captor had left horse ready
for flight. Instead of making south,
eastward for the Rock creek bridge
and the road to Springfield, he rounded
the bluff and the village, and was evil
IDENTIFY striking toward Beardstown.
The western continuation of New Salem
street, stretching across the prairies
until it met and curved with bluffs
along the Sangamon, was the route to
Beardstown, which stood at the juno
ton Of the Sangamon with the Illi-
! nois.
Light-footed as deer, scarcely paus-
ing to think, Antywine with inherited
instinct turned east toward the river,
though it was the direction opposite
that in which Peggy was carried. A
boat could be found at the mill. The
river was high and running swiftly.
By taking advantage Of the unusual
current he might reach the bluff road
as soon as horse foundering across
the mud of the prairies would be able
| to reach it. What he would then do
afoot he did not attempt to foresee
There was a small settlement at the
| mouth Of Rock creek called Wolf. Oxen
were more plentiful than horses in
Wolf, as New Salem; yet Antywine
| had one passing flash of determination
| to go there and demand a horse. But
breathless with haste, he plunged
| through naked woods and down the
terraced bank Of the Sangamon, sliding
on dead leaves in his descent, straight
| to the mill.
The boat was tied above the dam. He
| pushed out before he thought of the
dam, half covered by swelling water
and roaring across the width of the
| Sangamon. Antywine was never more
| alive than when his feet were planted
! in boat He came of a line of voy-
ageurs who had threaded Canadian
| rapids time out of mind. Although his
later years had been spent in Belle
! vile, off great stream courses, his in
| of him to be forgotten. There was no
| time for thought. He swOOped down
the curve poised in the stern of his
boat, laughing aloud at the shock,
which nearly swamped him. The boat
ran without direction, making for
partly submerged trees while he bailed
with his hands. Antywine stuck out
an oar for rudder, and turned his
craft into the racing current. So,
baling with one hand and steering with
the other, he got under way, and was
soon able to sit on the bench, fit the
oars into rowlocks, and pull with the
racing force which spun him along.
Branches and logs menaced his dim
course.
The shores we're black. Froth spots
like white money appeared and disap-
peated around him with phosphoric
swiftness And underneath rose and
fell the bullfrogs' diapason.
Not many miles down was the fork
of the Sangamon, where the stream
turned toward the Illinois. Boards
town, by prairie and river-bluff route
was nearly 40 miles from New Salem
Frost was out of the ground, and a
bottomless trail would delay the most
hurried rider. The scalloped bank
ascending and descending in serate6
cliff and hollow, seeming to swim pas
Antywine, finally curved away from
a wider current; and he made for shore
through drift. He drew the boat out
and left it beached above the rising
water.
There was no sound abroad in al
that void darkness except the Sanga