The Riflemen of the Miami Part 13
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"Very well, don't forget. I've done some shootin', fur all I ain't used to Injins. But, I say, do you know the head feller of them Riflemen?"
"I'm very well acquainted with him."
"What sort of a chap is he?"
"Good deal such a man as I am."
"Haw! haw! great man to be the leader. Hope you're never taken for him, be you?"
"Very often--because _I am_ the leader of the Riflemen myself."
"Get out," said the countryman, as if he expected to be bitten. "You can't make me believe that."
"It makes no difference to me whether you believe it or not. If you make much more noise, like enough you'll find out who I am."
"Be you really the leader of the Riflemen?" queried Zeke Hunt, not noticing the warning which had just been uttered.
"I've told you once, so let's hear no more about it."
"My gracious! you don't look much like one. 'Pears to me you and I look a good deal alike. Don't you think so?"
"Heaven save me, _I hope_ not."
"Oh, I'm willing that it should be so. I ain't offended."
The impudence of the countryman was so consummate that Dernor could not restrain a laugh at it.
"They always considered me good-looking down hum," he added; "and there wasn't a gal I wasn't able to get if I wanted her."
"I should think you would be anxious to get back again."
"Would be, if it wasn't for the old man. He was _awful_ on me. Didn't appear to be proud of me at all."
"Queer, sure. I don't see how he could help it."
"Me neither. Dad was always mad, though, and used to aboose me shameful. The fust thing in my life that I can remember was of gettin'
a lickin'."
"What was it for?"
"Nothin' worth tellin'. I was a little feller then, and one day heated the poker red-hot, and run it down grandmother's back. But there!
didn't he lam me for that! Always was whippin' me. School-teacher was just as bad. Licked me like blazes the fust day."
"Did he lick you for nothin'?"
"Purty near. Didn't do any thing except to put a handful of gunpowder in a dry inkstand, and then touch it off under his chair. Haw! haw!
haw! didn't he jump? and oh gracious!" he added, in a solemn tone, "didn't I jump, too, when he fell on me."
"You seem to have been about the biggest scamp in the country. Why did he whip you this last time when you run away?"
"Hadn't any more reason than he had at other times. I tried to take Ann Parsons home from singing-school, and she wouldn't let me. That was the reason."
"He couldn't have whipped you for that."
"Well, it all come from that. I followed her home, and jest give her my opinion of her, and when her old man undertook to say any thing, I jest pitched in and walloped him."
"You had a sensible father, and it's a pity he hasn't got you now, for I don't care any thing about your company."
"You going to turn me off? You said you wouldn't."
"And I shan't, I tell you agin, as long as you behave yourself. If you cac'late to go with me to the settlement, you must not have too much to say. Remember that we are still in dangerous territory, and a little foolishness by either of us may bring a pack of the red-skins upon us."
"Just what I thought. I'm sleepy."
And without further ceremony, he lolled over on the ground, and in a few minutes, to all appearances, was sound asleep. Intently watching his face for a time, the Rifleman now and then saw his eyelids partly unclose, as if he wished to ascertain whether any one was scrutinizing him. The somewhat lengthy conversation which we have taken the pains to record, had about disarmed the hunter of the suspicions which had been lingering with him for a long time. He believed Zeke Hunt an ignorant fellow, who had been left along the Ohio river, as he had related, and who had not yet learned that trait of civilized society, carefully to conceal his thoughts and feelings when in conversation. The impression which he first felt, of having met him before, might easily arise from his resemblance to some former acquaintance.
Still, the Rifleman was by no means so forgetful of his charge as to indulge in slumber, when there was the remotest probability of danger threatening her. Inured as he was to all manner of hards.h.i.+ps and suffering, it was no difficult matter for him to spend several nights in succession without sleep. He therefore watched over her through the second night, never, for a single moment, allowing himself to become unconscious. Several times he saw the countryman raise his head and change his position, and when spoken to, heard him mutter something about it being "derned hard to sleep with his head on the soft side of a stone, and one side toasted and the other froze."
The hours wore away without any incident worth mentioning, and at the first appearance of day Edith was astir and ready to resume the journey. Enough of the turkey, slain on the day before, remained to give each a sufficient meal, and with cheerful spirits upon the part of all, the three again took up their march through the wilderness.
The route which the information of the countryman led the hunter to adopt was such that he expected to reach the settlement in the course of the afternoon. It will thus be seen that it was a very circuitous one--they, in fact, being already several miles north of their destination. As yet, the eagle eye of the hunter had discovered no danger, and their march was continued without interruption until noon, when they halted for a few minutes' rest.
"If you haint no 'bjection, I'll try a shot with your gun," said Zeke Hunt, "bein' as you thought I couldn't shoot any."
"I'd rather not have my rifle fired at present, youngster, as ears that we don't fancy might hear it."
"You're only afeard I might beat you, that's all."
This remark so nettled the hunter that he resolved to gratify his disagreeable companion.
"Put up your mark, then," said he, "and as far off as you choose."
The countryman walked to a tree somewhat over a hundred yards distant, and with his knife clipped off a small piece of bark, leaving a gleaming spot, an inch or two in diameter.
"You fire first," said he, as he came back.
The hunter drew up his rifle, and pausing hardly a second to take aim, buried the bullet fairly in the center of the target.
"Whew! that's derned good; don't believe I can beat it much; but I'll try."
The gun was quickly reloaded, and, after taking aim and adjusting it nearly a dozen times, Zeke Hunt fired, missing the tree altogether. As he ran to ascertain the result of his shot, instead of handing the rifle to Dernor, he carried it, apparently without thinking, with him.
When he had carefully examined the mark, he proceeded to reload it, before returning. This was so natural an occurrence, that the hunter received his weapon without noticing it.
"Want to fire again?" asked the countryman.
"No, it isn't worth while."
"I give in, but think I'll be up to you after a little practice."
The Riflemen of the Miami Part 13
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The Riflemen of the Miami Part 13 summary
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