Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 33, Number 331, 3 October 1908 — Page 6

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By Virginia Yeaman Remnitz

in OW Toddles got out of the fort was never II known. The time of his disappearance was early afternoon, one spring day of C the year 1781. The women of Hamilton's I I Station were either making their spinningU II wheels sing, or were themselves singing to restless babies- the men were all out hunting; the children were playing in the fort yard. And all round this frail little settlement lay the beautiful, Indian-haunted, wolf-haunted wilderness - of Kentucky. Somewhere out in that wilderness was Toddles, but his mother did not know it yet. A little wooden "fort," made by erecting log cabins and stockade fencing about a four-square yard, may not seem to offer adequate protection against savage enemies, brute or human; but it is far, far better for a little child than no protection at all. Presently Mrs. Hamilton looked up from her spinning-wheel to gladden her eyes with a sight of Toddles. He was the prettiest, chubbiest bit of a boy in the settlement a hardy little frontiersman," with a sunny smile and laughing blue eyes. "Toddles, Toddles!" The call grew louder and louder. It rang all arouud the yard, until women came running; women, and children too, with here and there a tall boy who had been left at home to garrison the station. The tallest of these was Ben Hamilton; and after every cabin had been searched, and keen eyes had wept all the country within sight from the tops of the corner blockhouses, Ben laid his strong brown hand on his mother's arm and said quietly: "I reckon I '11 go and find Toddles." "Take me tool" "And me!" ,"And me!" "And jner ' ' ' .-(, Every bey who was able to carry a "gun had spoken; but they must all stay at home to take care of their mothers and the little ones. It was rarely that all the men left the fort at once; they did so only when there were no "Indian signs" about. And upon such occasions great responsibility rested upon the older boys who were left behind. Ben's first preparation for departure was to find , his father's dog, "Spot," who had been left at home as part of the garrison. Spot had been discovered, sick and half famished, in a deserted Indian camp, and had been adopted simply because dogs of any kind were a rarity. But the animal quickly proved himself a valuable member of the settlement. He was an Indian-trained "tracking" dog, as silent as a cat and as keen on the scent as a deer. Already he had found several strayed horses and cows; now he must try to find his playfellow. Toddles. Mrs. Hamilton herself held the little home-spun frock to the dog's nose, and made him sniff at the bed where Toddles had slept; and it was she who found the last plaything the child had handled. Spot seemed to understand. He was eager to be off, and even submitted patiently to being held in leash by a strip of buffalo tug. When the heavy fort gate had closed upon Ben, Mrs. Hamilton hastened to the top of a blockhouse, and from this watch-tower she looked eagerly down upon the beginning of the search. And as she looked 'the mother's grief and fear were for the moment almost forgotten in the mother's pride. What a man Ben looketl! How tall and strong nd brave he was for a lad of sixteen. How quick and keen his eye as he glanced now in this direction, now in that in response to the dog's restless tugging! How grave and firm his face as he calmly watched the finding of the scent, stooped to examine the ground, and with the dog started to follow the trail that led into that limitless, terrible forestl t But scarcely had the trail been found than Ben topped and turned about. His look rested full on his mother's face, and a bright smile broke the gravity of his own. Mrs. Hamilton leaned far over, smiling also; she waved her hand as he turned again, nd she watched until the plunge into the forest was taken. Then, as the green foliage and the deep shadows closed about the gallant young figure in blue hunting-shirt and buckskin leggings, the poor mother dropped her face in her hands and wept bitterly. Thus one of the women found her, and led her down, speaking words of comfort which she could only hope might come true. It seemed only too probable that neither of the lads would ever come home again. Ben had never been alone in the forest before, but his father had taken him on many a hunting trip and had trained the boy in that difficult art of woodcraft so necessary to every frontiersman. And almost at the outset Ben made a discovery which sent the blood to his head and a bright gleam to his eye. It was simply the faint impress of a moccasined foot in wet earth. This clue to his brother's fate Ben found on the bank of the stream which ran just at the edge of the settlement clearing. On this bank, also, were many prints of small bare feet. Toddles had been playing there. And it was clear that the child had run a little way to escape that dreaded sight of a painted red man which had suddenly appeared before him. It was doubtless in the he-, of pursuit that the Indian had been so incautious as to set his foot where any "trace" would be left. Ben and Spot found the exact place where that pitifully uneven chase had ended. Then the lad closed his eyes for a moment. He dreaded lest his dog should make straight for something which had been Toddles. Frontier boys saw terrible things in those days, and Ben knew the end Indians often -made of the little children they captured. He did not fear anything now, save to come upon the thing his fancy pictured. . But the dog ran about uncertainly. The Indian had probably stepped with Toddles into the bed of the stream, for there was now no scent to follow. Thit conclusion gave Ben a momentary sensation ot relief. Perhaps the red man intended to make the child a captive rather than to slay him. But had be gone up stream or down?. ""' r-

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I OLD KEIlTUGKlf Since there had been, of late, some Indian depredations toward the south, Ben determined to go in that direction; and taking Spot across the stream, he started off as rapidly as careful search for the lost trace permitted. The dog ran along the bank with his nose to the ground, and the boy's quick eyes keenly searched the damp earth. It was at the end of about a mile that Spot found the scent again, but Ben could see no tracks on the bank. He judged that the captor, or captors, of Toddles had taken a flying leap out of the water and landed on the leaf-covered mold of the forest. Now that he was on the trail again, Ben became possessed of a feverish haste. At any moment the Indian might weary of his burden; and then ! But Ben would not allow his thoughts to take that course. He began to run ahead swiftly, urging Spot before him. Both boy and dog traveled as silently as possible, avoiding, as though by instinct, any crackling branches and rustling leaves. But Toddles was not traveling silently at all; and this, upon the whole, was fortunate. Ben heard an outcry, faint in the distance, but having the quality of rage rather than of pain. He realized with joy that his small brother was able to make some protest and then he stopped short. Spot must go now. IT WAS FROM BEHIND A TREE THAT JIM He untied the strip of tug from the dog's neck, and, whispering in his ear, pointed the way home. When the poor animal, thus forbidden the reward of his labor, protested, Ben had great difficulty in persuading him to go back. But he felt a sudden sense of loneliness and desolation as he watched his fourfooted friend trot disconsolately homeward. As Ben hastened on, the angry outcry ahead grew louder and louder, and he wondered that the small captive's behavior did not bring fatal wrath upon him. The fear that it might at any moment have this result impelled Ben, even at some risk from noise, to quicken his pace to a run. It was from behind a tree that Ben got his first glimpse of Toddles. That undaunted child was engaged in thumping with both tiny fists at the chest and head of the powerful brave who carried him, and was also kicking sturdily. Ben looked sharply about, and when he discovered that he had but one redskin to deal with, his courage rose out of all proportion to the situation, fie had feared to come upon a whole party of Indians. The vigor of Toddles's attack upon his captor fairly made Ben's blood run cold at the thought of such, rash behavior. Surely the Indian would not tolerate it another instant. He would oh, what might he not do? At the very idea Ben's rifle was slowljraised and aimed. There was a flash, a sharp report, and then the Indian wheeled about, quite unhurt. Ben crouched down behind a tree to reload. There was a brief agonized cry as the savage violently dashed Toddles to the ground, and Ben, scarcely knowing what he did, cocked his reloaded gun and sprang out of hiding. In a moment the Indian was nowhere to be seen, but Toddles lay quite still on the ground beneath a tree. Ben knew that the redskin was but in hiding; the sound of a shot and the sting of a ball might at any moment disclose his whereabouts. The boy dared not even steal another glance at his brother. And he was just about to crouch down again twhen the expected shot rang out. Ben dropped to the ground, he did not know whether he was hit or not, and crawled behind a tree. There he hid, waiting for a chance to take aim at his enemy. It was a terrible game of hide-and-seek. The red man darted from behind his covert, but vanished again before Ben could even take aim. The boy believed himself exposed to the enemy's fire, and, fcuick as thought, he roiled ovex. The next instant

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a ball dug up the ground where fie Had been lying. Then he made a dash for a sheltering boulder, tiring as he ran, in the direction from which the shot had just come. A few minutes of silence followed, during which every twig and leaf and shadow about Ben seemed suspiciously aquiver. He felt that his hidden enemy was creeping upon him; he keenly realized his own inferiority in woodcraft and cunning, and felt there, could be but one end to the game he was playing. But he intended to keep it up as long as he could. He felt no fear, only a strange tensity of nerve and a quickening of every sense. His hearing had never been so keen, his sight so quick, his brain so cool and clear; and the hand at the trigger of his rifle was as steady as though he were merely hunting a squirrel. If the red man would expose himself for but one instant, Ben believed he could be the first to fire; if but the faintest motion or sound would give warning, he felt he might avoid the enemy's aim. But this prolonged silence seemed to be a part of eternity. It may have been intuition rather than actual perception but surely a snake was gliding somewhere near. Ben turned like a cat, and his quick blue eye seemed to pierce tjje underbrush about. No, there was nothing; the tremulous shadow of a windswayed bough must have deceived him. But there, over by a great rock, was a deeper shadow and a flash. The two rifles blazed out almost instantaneously, and the reports were followed by a savage yelL Ben dropped on his knees, a hand to his left shoulder. But he did not know it was there. He was watching the Indian. Was the fellow wounded, or was he only shamming? Was he going away, or was he coming nearer? And surely it was getting dark dark and cold. Toddles was out alone in the dark and cold. And everywhere, behind trees and rocks, amid the underbrush, were Indians creeping, creeping. Or were they snakes? At all events, it would not do to leave Toddles alone. He might be frightened, or hurt. COT HIS FIRST CLTMPSB OF TODDLES Ben crawled slowly from behind his rock. He did not know he was crawling, but he felt he made slow progress, and he tried to hasten. It was no use; it was like a nightmare in which he can move just so fast and no faster. Ben did not see the little red trail that followed him; he scarcely saw anything not even Toddles, who sat up wide-eyed and stopped crying at this vision of his big brother creeping slowly toward him. A little later Toddles crept over to Ben. The chubby legs were too shaky as yet to do service. But he had forgotten about his own pain in thi3 new wonder. In all Toddles's experience Ben had never looked and acted that way. "Wake up, Ben! Wake up!" He shook the inert figure. He poked a chubby, dirty finger at the closed lids. But it was no use. Then he tugged his hardest at Ben's sleeve, but still with no result. Finally, being very tired and feeling heavy about the eyes, he nestled close up to his big brother, drew the unhurt arm about his little body, and went fast asleep. That is how, just as dusk was falling, the searchparty from Hamilton's station found the two. Spot led the way, and. Hearing them, began to whine dolefully. So Mr. Hamilton's heart stood still as he dismounted. He did not know at all what he had found, and was afraid to learn. For once the sturdy -frontiersman felt himself unequal to the business in hand, and it was another one of the party who knelt over the boys and listened breathlessly for the beating of their hearts. The others dismounted and stood about, their stern faces tender and pitiful. When Toddles was lifted up he opened his eyes and murmured drowisly, "Ben tummed, but he went wite as'eep." But the man who was still kneeling over Ben raised his head just then, and looked at Mr. Hamilton with shining eyes, "His heart is n't so weak," he said. "I reckon he 11 come around a'l right." And so he did. The injured shoulder was somewhat troublesome, but nothing for a frontier boy to make a fuss about. The men who followed the Indian's trail until it was lost in a stream judged that he had been severely wounded, for he had evidently crawled all the way to the brook; and they declared that Ben was already a famous "Injinfighter." Toddles, however, revealed the true hero of the occasion. Looking up into the adoring face of his mother as he lay in her arms, he remarked coolly: "Mammy, I beat the bad Injin, and I beat him, and I beat him, until he had to let me go and then he vanned awayl"..

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It was a Discontented Boy Who lay upon the lawn, And grieved because vacation days,' With all their pleasant sports and plays, Too soon, alas I were gone. Some sparrows near him hopped around And, as he watched, the boy became Filled with an envy most profound Because the birds were free from rules, And never even heard of schools; And, sitting by, I overheard This boy wish he was "just a bird." Scarce had the words been said alas! When, swift as lightning, from the grass Puss bounded, and one cruel blow Laid one poor chirping sparrow low. Then said the Discontented Boyt "I really never thought f that Ah, well! I wish I was a cat." Just then a dog of monstrous size Comes up the street the cat he spies; The King" of Unsergarten Went forth to fight the foe; He took with him his trumpet. His shield and sword and bow. Along the gravel pathway And round the lawn he passed; He stopped at every corner And blew a fearful blast

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iiiiiiiiiiiimnthi'i'timiiimmmminH lliiilllilillUiillililllllllillliill I Springs for her, and half dead with fright Puss drops her prey and takes to flight. Then said the Discontented Boy; "Instead of either bird or cat, I 'd like to be a dog, like that" But even as he spoke, a man Seized on the dog, and in a van Thrust the unhappy hound. "Where will you take him?" said the boy. The man said: "To the pound; And if nobody comet for him. To-morrow he 11 be drowned." "Ouch P said the Boy, "I 'm very sura I should n't fancy that; Nor being pounced on, like the bird. Nor worried like the cat It seems, somehow, that everything Has sorrow mixed with joy; So after all I guess that I Would rather be a boy." His quiver and bis buckler He brandished ra the breeze; He shot a score of arrows Into the ambush trees. i The King of Unsergarten, ' When once the war was done. His wooden sword beside him, Lay sleeping in the tun,