Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1903-12-01

grimy with SCOT, in the other mere
peephole for window; a wooden
bench, a bed of skins and two or three
stools were barely visible in the gloom.
in the doorway Oncle Jazon sat whit
tling a slender billet of hickory into
ramrod for his long fiintlOck American
rifle.
"Maybe ye know Simon Kenton,"
said the old man, after he and Beverley
had c6nversed for awhile, seeing that
YOU are from Kentucky-eh"
"Yes, / do know him well; he's a
warm personal friend of mine," said
Beverley with quick interest, for 1t
surprised him that Oncle Jazon should
know anything about Kenton. do you
know him, NJ. Jazon?"
Oncle Jazon winked conceitedly and
sighted along his rudimentary ramrod
to see IL it was straight, then, pucker'
ing his lips as if on the point Of whis'
Ting. made an affirmative noise quite
impossible to spell.
"Well, I'm glad you are acquainted
with Kenton," said Beverley. "Where
did you and he come together"
Oncle Jazon chuckled reminiscently
and scratched the skinless, cicatrized
SPOT where his scalp had once -four
ished.
"Oh. several places" he answered.
aye see thet hair a-hangin' there on
the wallY He pointed at dry wisp
dangling under a peg in log barely
visible by the bad light. "Well, thets
my scalp. He, he, he!' He snlckereo
as If the fact were a most enjoyable
Joke. "Simon Kenton can tell ye about
thet little affair." The Indians thought
I was dead, and they took my hair but
I wasn't dead. l was just a-givin' 'em
a possum act. When they was gone
got up from where l was a-layin' ano
trotted off. My head was sore, and
ventrebleu, but / was mad! He, he
he!'
All this time he spoke in French,
and the English but poorly paraphras'
es his odd turns of expression. his
grimaces and grunts cannot even be
hinted.
It was a long story, as Beverley re-
ceived it. told scrappily, but with GER
tain rude art. In the end Oncle Jazon
said with unctuous self satisfaction:
Accidents will happen. l got my
chance at thet Indian who skinned my
head. and jes' took bead on i'm with
nv old rifle. can't shoot much. never
could, but happened to hit i'm square
in the lef' eye, what l shot at, ana IL
was a hundred yards. Down he tum
bles, and l runs to i'm and finds my
same old scalp a-hangin' to his belt
Well lifted off his hair with my
knife and united mine from the belt
| and then had both scalps-he, he, he
Ye ask Simon Kenton when We see
i'm. He was along at the same time
| and they made i'm run the ga'ntlet and
pretty nigh beat the life out OF i'm
| Ventrebleu.
Twilight and moonlight were blend
ing softly when Beverley. on his way
back to the fort. departing from a di
| rect course, went along the rivers slde
| southwark to have few moments oil
reflective stroll!ng within reach OF the
waters pleasant murmur and the
towns indefinite evening stir Ricf
sweetness, the gift Of early autumn
was on the air blowing softly out OF O
lilac west and singing in the willow
fringe that hung here and there ovel
the bank.
On the farther side of the rivers wid'
flow, swollen by recent heavy rains
Beverley saw pirogue, in one END q
which a dark figure swayed to th'
strokes of a paddle The slender ant
shallow little craft was bobbing on TIT
choppy waves and taking Zigza;
course among floating logs and masses
of lighter driftwood while making slow
but certain headway toward the hithel
bank.
Beverley took bit of punk and
flint and steel from his pocket, relit hi
pipe and stood watching the skil!fn
boatman conduct his somewhat dan
gerous voyage diagonally against th'
rolling current 1t WAS Il shifting, hid'
and seek scene, its features appearing
and disappearing with the action of th'
waves and the doubtful light reflected
from fading clouds and sky. Now AM
again the man stood up In his skittlsi
pirogue, balancing himself with care, It
use a short pole in showing driftwoo'
out of his way, and more than once III
looked to Beverley as if he had plunged
headlong into the dark water.
Beverley stood at ease. idly and hal
dreamily looking on, when suddenl!
something caused catastrophe, whicl
for n moment he did not comprehend
In fact. the man in the pirogue cam
to grief. as a man in pirogue Is yer.
apt to do, and fairly somersaulted ov>'
board into the water Nothing seriou
would have threatened, for the mai
could swim like an otter, had not
i, floating, half submerged log, thrust III
, some short, stiff stumps of DouShs, UP
ON tie points of which the man strucl
heavily and was not only hurt, but hat
his clothes impaled securely by one o
the ugly spears, so that he hung III
| HELPLESS position, while the waters nc
{ ton alternately lifted and submerse'
!, him. his arms beating about wildly.
When Beverley heard the stranglin
, cry for help he pulled himself prompt
: together flung off his coat, as II by
single motion, and leaped down IN
: bank into the water. He was swim
: mer whose strokes counted for all tina
! prodigious strength and excellent tran
4 ing could afford. He rushed throug
:. the water with long sweeps, making
e semicircle, rounding against the cul
: rent, so as to swing down upon tn
drowning man.
0 Less than a half hour later rumo
t by some means spread through tn
9 town that Father Beret and Lieuter
: ant Beverley were drowned in the Wf
o bash. But when a crowd gathered
= verify the terrible news it turned on
+ to be untrue. Gaspard Roussillon ha
{ once more distinguished himself by a
i exhibition Of heroic nerve and muscle
i "Ventrebleu! Quel homme! e.
8 claimed Oncle Jazon, when told thf
J. NJ. Roussillon had come up the bank {
b the Wabash with Lieutenant Beverle
: under one arm and Father Beret undt
the other, both men apparently dead.