Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 May 1894 — A Fearful Straw Ride. [ARTICLE]

A Fearful Straw Ride.

BY EMILIE EGAN.

The young people of to-day can scarcely realize what a “straw ride” was like a hundred years ago, or that the fun-provoking excursion enjoyed so much nowadays had an ancient and necessary origin. It is probable, however, that as much fun and laughter accompanied the straw ride then as now, for young people are alike in all ages and the world over. When our English forefathers settle first in the New England States, especially Vermont and New Hampshire, they established their homes upon the highlands, because, strange as it now seems, the larger lakes, ponds and rivers—where the beautiful meadows now are—were compassed about with miles and miles of thickly wooded swamps, which were almost impassable even in summer. Last summer I climbed the mountain which is the scene of this story, and I counted there forty old cellar holes, overgrown with grass and but indisputable evidence of former homes. I asked stupidly—feeling certain the answer would be, “Killed by Indians or devoured by wild beasts”— “Where did all the people go to who once lived here?” The practical one of our party answered, “Oh, they moved down gradually, for, as the woods were cut off, the swamps dried up.”

A hundred 'years ago the settlers on the mountain made nothing of the deep snows which in winter covered all that country, but turned out with shovels and ox sleds—the only vehicles known in the mountains in those times—and manfully “broke roads,” in order that their social intercourse with their “Notchite” friends might not be interrupted. Especially was this the case in a winter, when Mr. Stevens, the most “forehanded” of them all, had built a frame mansion, and was going to give a house-warming ball. A string of ox-teams was sent over the rough, drifted road, and all was ready for the revellers.

There were enough people to fill two eleds, and Thad Waldo and Freeman Eddy, each of whom owned two yoke of oxen, were chosen as teamsters. Their sleds were filled with straw and blankets, ready for their respective loads, and they started merrily off at four o’clock, reaching their destination before dark. They stayed there until three in the morning, gayly dancing and feasting, with never a thought of danger. When the teamsters went out to “tackle up” for the return home, they found the sky heavy with dark clouds and much warmer than when they came over. “Guess we’re going to have our January thaw,” remarked young Waldo.

“And I’m afraid we’ll get a slump over the south side. It won’t be very easy riding over those stumps and stones,” returned Eddy. For a mile or so the high spirits of the party made the woods and mountains ring with song and laughter, but by the time they reached the heights the fatigue of the dance began to tell upon them, and the younger of them commenced making pillows of the laps of their elders, who, also, soon became silent. Waldo and Eddy, as they reached the notch, jumped from their sleds to better guide their teams down the mountain, and the latter shouted as he reached the road, “Old Buck and Bright will be more lively company than that sleepy crowd.” The drowsy ripple of laughter which followed this sally was suddenly drowned by a horrible scream which seemed to fairly fill the pass, echoing and re-echoing among the mountains as if being answered •by a hundred others. The two teamsters sprang quickly to the heads of their teams, now trembling and cuddling up to each other in fright. The men knew that they had but a moment to prevent a stampede down the mountain; for, as soon as the poor oxen should recover from their first alarm, they would seek safety in flight, when it seemed impossible that the whole party could escape being dashed to pieces. Every person in the company, from the oldest to the youngest, fully appreciated their double danger. They knew that that defiant scream came from a hungry panther—and that it meant death. Instantly every young man on the sleds had his gun to his shoulder—they never went without them in “those good old days”—peering sharply among the hemlocks which lined the road, for the two fiery eyes, the only part of the ugly beast which they expected to see in the cloudy darkness. Failing a shot, they knew I that he would jump for them, when they nasaed under the tree where he

had lodged, when he gave his warning scream. Should he mis<, Tt Would in no wise end the chase, for they knew that by his huge, vaultingsprings he could soon forge ahead to a vantage ground in another tree, The road through which these hapless young people took their fearful ride is nearly obliterated now by a sturdy growth of young trees, except the “Three Ledges” around which the road ran. No trees can ever cover those cruel rocks. Here was the fearful climax which must end such a race, even should they keep together until they reached the ledges. In thirty seconds, quick-witted young Waldo had unhitched his leading oxen and turned them into the deep snow', hoping that they might possibly attract the panther. Thus he obtained also a better chance to control the others. By this time a second scream, more defiant than the other, rang through the woods.

This second scream came from behind them over through the notch, and was immediately answered by the first, making the poor, trembling oxen fairly bound with fright, and sending them off on a mad gallop. The teamsters instinctively caught hold of yoke and horn. Young Waldo shouted back to those in the sleds, “Hold on for your lives!” It was an almost useless warning. The young men who had risen were thrown among those who had not, their extended guns dealing cruel blows as they fell. But not a word of fear or complaint was uttered by the hardy young settlers, and no sound was heard for a few minutes excepts Waldo's and Eddy’s shouts in their endeavors to check the mad speed of their teams; yet it seemed to those in the sleds, as they tossed and bounded from side to side, catching and losing their hold upon the stakes, that the next stump or stone must certainly wreck them. Even the panther was forgotten in their efforts to keep their places, until the chase was freshly announced by the united screams of the panthers, now certainly both behind them. That the oxen had distanced them in their first mad run was plain; but that gave the unfortunate straw-rid-ers no hope of an ultimate escape, for they could now count by the sereams the rapidly-made jumps of their pursuergj which were fast closing in upon them.

Waldo’s team, though much winded, was running fairly well, through his timely forethought in turning loose his leaders; while Eddy, who had barely time to catch the horn of his near ox, had no control over his leaders, which, in their successive frights at each scream from the panthers, bolted frightfully, adding to their danger as well as lessening their chances of escape by flight. It would seem that the dangers already surrounding the party could not be increased, but those in the last sled became suddenly aware that Waldo’s abandoned leaders were in the road behind them. They recognized the danger immediately, and tried, by flinging out their free arms and shouting, to change the course of the pursuing oxen, but the poor, terrorblinded creatures plunged straight on, heeding nothing. There was no time to escape this new danger, had the occupants of the sled any strength to do aught but hold on, and each face turned toward the end of the sled-boards. But when the shock came, it almost seemed the Providence interfered to save them, for only one ox planted his feet over the endboard, while the other fell with only his big horns and head inside, where by a miracle they hung, only to be savagely shaken off by the next stump or stone. The continually nearing screams of the panthers showed that they were still in hot pursuit, and there was a regretful hope in each mind that the poor oxen might not be able to rise, thereby becoming a sacrifice for the safety of the load of human beings clinging to the sled. Not so; for in a moment, just as a panther sprang from a tree across the road, probably not fifty feet behind the sled, the oxen were in the road again and madder than ever with fright. Eddy, who had been obliged to look ahead, though comprehending fully all that had occurred behind, knew what the others did not. that Waldo’s team must be far ahead, for he had not heard nor seen anything of him for a long time; and they themselves were flying past the “Boulder Spurs,” with the three dangerous ledges less than a half-mile beyond. Turning his face back, he shouted hoarsely, “For God’s sake, shoot the oxen and be quick about it, for we are nearing the ledge!” Two shots instantly answered his command, and, in the short interval of partial silence that ensued, he heard two sounds, which, strong, brave man as he was, he never forgot, and always remembered with a sense of unforgiven cruelty. It was a long, mournful “loo,” a pitiful petition for help, as it were, from one of the doomed oxen; and, “Oh, see! The poor thing is dragging his mate!” in a sweet, girlish voice. But soon the poor fellow was left far behind, and when they heard the next scream from the panthers, an agonized bellow followed, telling of the fate of the oxen.

For a while all believed themselves free from the panthers, and the oxen which were drawing them evidently shared their belief, for they showed signs of slackening speed; though ten minutes before, it had seemed as though nothing could save the party from being swept over the ledges, if carried upon them with such fearful speed. Now all began to hope that theteam might be slowed up sufficiently to allow them to jump off. They began to take an interest in young Eddy’s efforts to stop his oxen, and noticed that Waldo was not ahead of them. Thay saw that Eddy was redoubling his efforts to slacken up, with a vigorous use of his thick goad up the noses of the oxen. The stick had not left his hand in all that terrible ride down the mountain. Then he shouted, “Get ready to jump when I tell you, and jump to the upper side.” A few more cruelly vigorous blows. Then, jerking the head of his near ox sharply round, he cried, “Jump!” And with one wild’ shout the whole sled-load landed in a struggling mass in the deep, soft snow.

Young Eddy, when he saw his sled empty, let go his hold upon his oxen and fell backward, through sheer exhaustion ; but almost immediately he sprang to his feet again in horror. The worst danger they had been in to-night was upon them; for either one of their former pursuers, or an entirely new comer, had uttered his blood-curdling scream just over their heads. They were in a narrow opening, only a few feet from the first ledge, where there was a sheer descent of sixty feet, with a rise of twenty feet of broken rock above them. Nothing could save them now from an encounter with a hungry panther. Were the poor oxen fated that night, one and all, to perish that their precious load might be saved? The oxen had made but a few staggering bounds away, just to the open ledge, when they were checked and sent huddling and backing upon each other again by the sudden renewal of danger, and the leaders, in their efforts to get back to their human friends, turned completely round upon the other yoke, twisting them until the sled grated over the ledge. Just for a moment the horrified young people forgot their own danger, as they watched the white stripes in the leaders’ faces and listened to the sound of the sled-runners on the rocky ledge; then another death-threatening scream, and a huge body shot through the misty air. There was a frightful bellowing and a short scramble of hoofs; then sled, oxen, and panther disappeared, to be heard from but once more with a crashing thud as they struck the rocks below.

The suppressed feelings of the straw-riders found vent this time in a regular stampede for their homes; the girls were crying and sobbing, and unconditionally accepted help from the young men; and all, though it was mid-winter, forgot completely their lost wraps, caps, hoods and mittens. All thought for certain that Waldo’s team must have gone over the ledge, but only a few of the strongest young men had breath to express their grief or pity. Their surprise and joy were about equal, after they had recovered their breath sufficiently to see, count, and remember names, to find in the crowd of settlers coming out to meet therp, every individual of the first load. Waldo and Eddy suffered the most from the adventure ; Eddy had rheumatic fever. Waldo constituted himself doctor and nurse-in-general to him, and they talked over many a time the fearful incidents of the ride. The two places where the oxen fell were made the common huntinggrounds of both settlements, and many a panther, wolf, and fox were killed there before the winter was through.—[Romance.