Читать книгу Little Wolf: A Tale of the Western Frontier - Mary Ann Mann Cornelius - Страница 44

Table of Contents

Pendleton—The Revelation at the Saloon—Euphonious names—The encounter—Our heroine appears and highwaymen disappear.

journey of a few days brought our travellers to the lively, bustling village, which for convenience we have named Pendleton, situated on the Upper Mississippi. After several hours of rest and refreshment at their hotel, they sallied out to enjoy a pedestrian excursion in the cool of the day. Not much of the place of their sojourn was visible. Gaslight, had not wandered so far from its birthplace. The enterprising inhabitants, however, had manufactured an article by the same name, but it was never known to generate light. The wagging of the machinery was all that came of it.

"Lager Beer," pronounced Edward Sherman, glancing at the gilt letters, that stood out in bold relief on the illumined window of a fashionable saloon, which they were at the moment passing.

"Yes, lager beer," repeated George Goodrich, musingly. "Ned, what a nation of beer drinkers we are becoming. Not at the east only, but these western towns seem to have a beer saloon at every corner."

"Well, Doctor, what is more harmless than beer? Come, let us turn back and take a glass;" and suiting the action to the word, Edward had passed behind the screen which shaded the entrance, before the expostulations of his companion, who followed mechanically, could reach his ear.

While Edward was leisurely sipping his lager, the loud and angry voices of a party of young men, who were in the act of leaving an adjoining apartment, used as a billiard saloon, attracted his attention. As a lady proved to be the cause of the altercation, we will do them the justice to state that they were decidedly under the influence of stimulants, One of their number, less insane than his companions, was endeavoring to quell the disturbance.

"Gentlemen," he said, "the name of a lady, whom we all respect should not be used too freely."

"Just so," chimed in another, "I say, let the matter rest."

"The hatchet is buried. Peace, peace, to Dr. DeWolf and his lovely daughter, forever," sang out the third.

The name and place, introduced in the quarrel, quite satisfied Edward that the daughter of his father's friend was the subject of the altercation.

"I've had a revelation to-night, George," said Edward, when they were again in the street.

"Then your eyes were opened, and you saw the handwriting on the wall, did you? Pity, those poor fools we left behind, could not borrow your optics."

"Ah, Doctor, you're on the wrong track. It has been revealed to me, that Dr. DeWolf has a lovely daughter, and—come, now, don't interrupt me with your old-fashioned, worn-out temperance hobby—as I was about to say, I have in my possession a letter of introtion to said DeWolf. He was formerly a friend of father's, and, of course, it will be my duty to cultivate his acquaintance and that of his lovely daughter, as early as possible,—say to-morrow. What say you, friend sober-sides? You know, my particular weakness is a lovely lady."

"Why, it's no affair of mine, Ned. Flirting is out of my line. But, how do you know the lady is lovely?"

"Why, was it not revealed to me, through the imprudence of a whole bevy of her admirers."

"O, but, Ned, the ravings of a set of drunken rowdies is not conclusive evidence."

"True," said Edward more seriously, "but," smiling again, "it's a young lady, anyhow, and I hope she is handsome."

Nothing further was said on the subject that evening, but, on the day following, young Sherman was informed by the landlord, of whom he inquired, that Dr. DeWolf resided at Chimney Rock, about five miles distant, and to the question, "Has he a family?" replied, "But one daughter, a beauty of some celebrity."

The informant observed the gratified twinkle in the eye of his guest and was not surprised when Edward ordered a carriage to be in readiness for him directly after dinner.

"The road is precipitous in some places, and horseback riding is considered safer," suggested the landlord.

"Well, two saddle horses, then," replied the other.

Accordingly, at the time above specified, our adventurers, each mounted on a dapple gray, set out for Chimney Rock. The scorching sun, and dusty streets, and poor little withered flowers by the wayside, prodigals from the adjoining valley, were soon exchanged for the "Valley Road," fringed with the loveliest specimens of the floral family, and cooled by the shade of the surrounding bluffs. Like all other things in life, this part of their journey was of short duration.

"Half a mile on this road," said Edward, reining in his steed, and repeating previous instructions, "brings us to the 'Siamese Twins' a double bluff singularly joined towards the top by the projection of an enormous rock. Now, we are here, and no mistake, then turn to the right."

"And keep the road as best we may," said Dr. Goodrich, raising his hat, and wiping the perspiration from his brow. "Well, come on."

They went on, on and on, over rocks and ledges and fallen trees; fording streams and climbing heights (for they had lost their way) until the lengthened twilight, attendant on the summer evenings of Minnesota, began to darken into night.

At this junction, when it may be readily imagined that Edward Sherman's ardor had somewhat cooled, and the emotions of his fellow traveller were not of the most agreeable nature, alternate snatches of song-singing and whistling were heard, not far distant. The bewildered parties rode hastily forward, and met the musician.

"Can you tell how far we are from Chimney Rock, my friend? We have lost our way," said Edward frankly.

"Why no, you ain't lost your way neither," replied the stranger roughly. "You are there, now. Just ride round the 'tother side of this bluff, and you'll see all there is of it."

"Well, can you inform me where Dr. DeWolf lives?"

"I guess I can. Keep right straight ahead, when you get the 'tother side of the Pass, there. That road takes you down to Hog Run, and the Run takes you to Beer Holler, and the brewery is right in the Holler, and 'tother side of that, on the hill, is Dr. DeWolf's."

"What a huddle of euphonious names," exclaimed the Doctor, after having proffered a "Thank you, sir," to the individual who had so opportunely appeared. "Beer Hollow will be just suited to your mind, Ned. In that romantic spot, inhaling the perfume of your favorite beverage, love making will be doubly intoxicating."

"Hush, Doctor, eavesdroppers ahead," said Edward, pointing towards the Pass.

Now, the Pass was nothing more than a narrow strip of table land, serving as a passage way between the Mississippi River, and a towering bluff. The view of the river was here intercepted by a thick grove of trees and shrubbery, which our horsemen had already entered. They did not, therefore, see the tiny green skiff, with its sprinkling of white letters on the bow, christening it "Comet," shoot ahead, and dart into the little cove near by, one of the most romantic and cosy of those emerald-hung parlors opening from the grand reception hall, of the "Father of Waters." Neither did they see the fair occupant rise on tip-toe, and peep mischieveously, through the festooned loopholes of the forest.

But they saw the dark objects to which the last speaker had called attention, partially concealed by the trees. The beast on which Edward was mounted stopped suddenly, shivering, apparently with fear. Instantaneously, two dark figures darted from their lurking places, and, in low gutteral tones demanded money. Unarmed, and completely in the power of the ruffians, who each, pistol in hand, held firmly by bit and bridle, the horse of his victim, the part of wisdom, seemed to be to surrender.

At that instant, a slight figure glided from the thicket behind the waylayers, and cautiously drawing forth a revolver which projected from the belt of the nearest, placed the muzzle at his back and fired. He fell with a deep groan. Another discharge followed quickly, and his companion reeled several yards, seizing convulsively trees and shrubbery, and finally, was heard sliding down the bank towards the river.

"Now, ride for your lives, there's more of them," said their deliverer, in a voice husky with excitement.

"What will you do?" said Edward.

"Take my skiff."

"No, mount here, quick," and he drew her up, and set off at full speed.

"Now, turn here, now up that hill; now we are there," the lady faintly articulated, as they flew along, and drew up before her father's door.

The house at which they had arrived, was the residence of Dr. DeWolf, and the heroine of the adventure, was no other than the Doctor's only daughter, quaintly named, Little Wolf. She had been, as was her wont, on a short independent trip up the river. In the full enjoyment of the romantic scenery and twilight hour, night had stolen upon her unawares. Warned of her imprudence by the distant clatter of horses, she immediately turned homeward. The swift current aided her efforts, and she neared the Pass, just in time to overhear all that was said. Not satisfied with the dim outline of objects, which a peep through the leaves disclosed, she sprang to the shore, and catching by the branch of an overhanging tree, drew herself up the steep bank. The part which she performed in the perilous encounter is already known to the reader, but the leading motives which prompted it, will be better understood hereafter.