Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 12, Number 16, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 15 October 1881 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

A PRETTY FOOL.

She's perfect to whirl with In a waltz, A nu tier shoulders show well on a *mt ui-

And she ioaugea at night and spreads her And plays with tier bracelets and flirt* her fan. Her duty this christian never omlttf^

Hhe makes her call®, and leave |^caru». And enchants a circle of half-fl^g^ wlts. And hllm attache, and six foot guard*.

thin the things for mother or wife? Could love ever grow on such barren rocks. I: this wmpaalon to take for WH'.-T

Otic might a* well marry a musical box.

You exhaust in a day her full extent 'TIs the name little tinkle of tunes always, You must wind her up with a compliment,

To bored with the only Hire^the^lays.^

WHISTLE, WHISTLE, LOVING DA UGHTEIi.

Whittle, whistle, loving daughter, and you shall have a cow.*' "J nevi whittled, mother, and never can I now—

It puckeru up my mouth so!

"Whistle, whistle, loving daughter, and you i-liall have a horse." "J n«v.:r whistled, mother, and I can not how, of course—

It puckers up my mouth sot"

"Wh&fto, whistle, loving daughter, and you tUiull have a sheep." "I never whistled, mother, noltncrwlll I yet— ft

pucker*

up my mouth so!"

'•Whistle, whistle, loving daughter,

shall have a man!'

never

and you

whistled, mother, but I know very well I can." Arid the whistling srwn began. —{Old Hong.

THE

Hunter's Bride:

-OR.-

WON AT LAST.

JK Tale of Thrilling Adventure

BY J. P. BTKI.LE.

CIIAPTKH I.

AN INVOLUNTARY KAVKS DROPPER.

AL period so early as 1702, a small settlement, composed "or six or seven "Virginia fa initios, had planted itself, and -was in Hiiiw-sMtul operation, among the boautifui hills which slope oil* toward Oreon river, a short distance below Kentucky's now celebrated Mammoth Cave. It wasan interesting little community— a county, nStato, and I might add with something akin to propriety, a nation, -or oven a world within itself. Thore were other settlements in the Kentucky wilds at the tlm\ it is true but when I sav they wero "few and far botwoen," aiiiJ that bad roads, and Indians, often hostile, rendered commtfnlcatlo.u a thing both difficult and dangerous, the reader •will perceive, at a glanoo the idea that I havo intended to ennvov.

Through its tlrst twovear# of existence, iroen ltiver Settlement worked on with the order of a perfect ninchino, and prosperity, plenty and peace seemed to flourish to perfection. Several additions in tho wav of families from the parent ^States, "and two or threo in the way of young huntors from the older up-coun-try settlements, were made in too time mentioned, and the Indians, of whom the country wtus full, finding themselves kindly treated on coming among the •whites, had, as yet, Bhown no disposition to be troublesome. Prospects for a

BUC-

ceas surpassing tho most sanguine expectations woro shining forth witheut a cloud honce all livod in the best of ohoer, and the fullest satisfaction touching their new homes.

Llse most other communities, thialit.tle eluater of hardy adventurers had its

gesin

rades and divisions in society, its parpolitics, Its saiuts, its sinners, and its noted Chief among the latter BUMKcharacters.

Cel. Mum ford, the founder

of tho settlement. lie was the great man of tho nation the mAn up to whom all looked with a kind of awe and the one by whom were investigated and settled all bnsineett diftereneos, and all difficult points. He was not a lawver—had never read a tr**atUe on law in Ills liTo, but that WJIR considered a matter of no consequence his word was law all the same. In short. Col. Mum ford was, by common consent. Governor of the colony, if nothing more. Next in point of note «nmo the Rev. Mr. Kilgore, minister and schoolmaster a deeply learned—so supposed—and very important personage. He it was who settled all knotty questions touching immortal life and mortal love wrought from the rough materials at hand tho living statutes that were to grace tho high places in future, and .generally managed to hold the reins of the little government in which ho lived, and to work them to his liking throujrh tho bands of tho urchins and their mothers. He was a cunning man, this Rev. Mr. IKilgore, a man from one of the first families in Virginia, a wealthy nun—understood to bo—and, as a matter of course, a man greatly liked by his people. Next in the way of importance, I might mention Miss Mattie iXiliins, the acknowledged belle of the settlement. She was the adopted daughter of Col. Mauiford—a beautiful young lady, as th© reader already surmisen, and*, even mora than he necessarily surmises, a young lady of good, solid sense. There wore other noted •characters of various lower grades, of \Mirae, but these being the most prominent, are all that, in my judgment, require a formal introduction at the commencement of this story.

As bofore intimated, the first and second years of Green River settlement went on as felicitously as could have Iwn desired. At the end of that time, or thereabouts, Madame Ruxnor threw a ripple across the hitherto smooth waters, by ninting that there was more than a common Vnteroat existing between the beautiful Mattita Collins and a young hunter, front one of the up-counlrv settlements, by the name of Ab Vfallla. And she went wn further to state that the youngsters Were inn peck of trouble over the fact that Ab had already taken the liberty of anklng Col. Mumford »ppmval of the matter, and had been rewarded with a flat refusal and emphatic orders never again to plant fits foot upon th© Mumford property. It was this butt-named statement that bad thrown up the ripple. Ab was a noble young fellow—handsome, brave and deeply] schooled in woodctaft—nwanled the beat] banter on Ureen driver by long odds,! Krerybodv liked him, and hence the feeling. Kone daredtake sidea directly again*! so great a man as Col. Mumford bat Rumor was quite another thing, eo they took sides against her. •She. they contended, had misrepresentoi the affair, for there was no reason for believing that a man of Col. Mumford's

good sense would aot in so foolish a way. There was not a shade of excuse for it. Matlie, it was true, had not yet quite attained to her majority, but she was fully matured besides, if that was the only object en the part of the Colonel, Ab was a reasonable man, and would willingly have waited till the designated birthday, now distant leas than a year, bad rolled around. It could not be true. Ab Willis was a voting man well worthy of Mattie Coliins, andit was hardly prolabIe that she would ever again meet with so good a chance—at least no a better one—all of which they were confident Col. Mumford $ould see as quickly and1 pHiuly as could any other person. And the whisperings wero wholly discredited.

Bat Madame Rumor was not to be put down so easily. She renewed the contest with an additional and more reasonable story. Rev. Mr. Kilgore, the

young,

rich, and talented minister and

schoolmaster, was mixed up in the atfair. He had expressed himself as thinking it high time that Green River Settlement should have a parsonage, and that no one could better do the honors of that establishment than Mattie Collins. He had oven gone so far as to mention tho matter to the Colonel, and had found favor in his eyes, if not in tho eyes of his adopted daughter and there lay a solution to the mystery.

This was all plausible enough. Col. Mumford was an ambitious man, and Mr. Kilgore occupied an exalted station in the community compared to that enjoyed by the honest and unassuming hunter. The one was great, talented, und wealthy* while, tho other was simply a lliati ol the woods, knew but little more than nature had taught him, and could boast no earthly possessions save his canoe, his trusty rille, and other hunter accoutrements. Under these circumstances the thing was not much of a wouder after all, aud those who, but a sh»rt time before, had freely expressed their disbelief in the report,now gave it full credence, and appeared at a loss to know why Mattie Collins declined an offer so excellent as that proposed by Mr. Kilgore, if, indeed, she did. ft would be a uoble match, they thoiigfit. Ab Willis, since they cam© to consider, was not precisely as good a fellow as he might have been. H© had various shortcomings that rendered him unworthy so poerless a creature as Mattie—in short, the schoolmaster earried the day, as was his wout on all occasions,' and Ab Willis, though none could tell why, was loft without a friend.

This commotion in Green River Settlement was created sometime in Mi«y. For a fow weeks it was uppermost in all circles and on all occa ions but finally, as nothing new seemod to grow out of it, tho oxeitement quieted down, aud things went on pretty much as bofore. Ab Willis still remained in the settlement, but it was understood that the engagement botwoen him and Mattio Collins had been ontirely broken off in fact, it was genorally believed that the belle and the minister had arrived at an understanding, and that tho happy affair was to come off in the course of a few months at furthest.

On a ploasant day, oarly in the following Kail, the Rov. Mr. Kilgore, book in hand, wont forth to enj*y one of his Saturday strolls among the beautiful groros of sugar maple which crowned the poetry-inspiring batiks of Green river. Having walked until lio was weary, ho solocted a mossy seat which nature hud made at the foot of a great tree, and sat himself down to rest and to road.

Ere ho had been long seated the distant murmur of human voices reached his ear—persons Rooming to be coming down through the woods from tho direction of Col. Mumford's plantation. It was a circumstance to which ho attached not particular importance, so he read on without oven going to the trouble of looking around tho tree to see who the parties were. They approacheddirectly— a gentleman and a lady, as he could make out by their voioes—and finally seated themselves upott the trunk of a fallen troe, so near that he oould hear their words distinctly. His position concealed him effectually from their view, tho tree against which ho was seated intervening, so he was thus unexpectedly made an involuntary eavesdropper. "Then you tell me, Mattie." said the gentleman, ,'tbat you feel to know there is no grounds to hope for a compromise in tho future?" "None in tho world, Ab, I am sorry to say, for father is a man than whom there area few more stubborn. He told me 110 longer ago than yesterday that it was folly for mo to bin more of you, and that ho had already plcdgod my hand to Mr. Kilgore. I told him it might bo folly for me to think of your ever boing more tome than at present vet at the same time it was no less folly for him to persist in urging the suit of Mr. Kilgore. That I had fullv made up inv mind on that subject, ancf, come life or'doath, I should iw found as unyielding as he himself had been. Upon this, he gave vent to expressions and threats which I do n»l U.'siro to mention. Tho life that I am forced to live is dreadful! WhatxAa/Z 1 do?"

And the minister could distinctly hear her gobbing. "Dreadful?" returned the gentleman, ••why, no, not half so dreadful as one might suppose. lamnotgoingtobroak down under it, by any manner of means. This whole world don't belong to either Col. Mumford

Schoolmaster Kilgore.

Both of them together don't owa it all. For mv part, I've no thought of getting into a iwist, for there-are more ways to kill a dog than to choke him to death on froeh butter." "Why, Ab Willis, what do you moan "I moan about what I say. oa own that von love me tridfr I believe you, and that he is enough for me. Do you mark those long hills sloping awav up yonder, across the river, almost as far,as one can see?" vl "Yt», I me them, but—'*

You see how they round off and join a 4L.

the sky, apparently as if the end of the world was right there? Well, that 1s all delusion, Mattie the world reaches far, far beyond and there are many more, hills just aa beautiful, and streams josT as silvery, as any to be met with here. I)o you understand

No answer coming, after a brief p«o« be went on. "Mattie Collins, I have no fcaustf on «arth to doubt you, nevertheless I am uow going to put your feelings to a severe test. You must infer something from what I have already said about there being other places than thi». To be plain. lam going to quit Green River Settlement. Do you love ate well enoagh to go wi-h me and share my fortunes, let them bo cast wheresoever tbeymav?" "Why. you frighten me, Ab Willis,'' she said, with evident emotion. "Iknow there were such things as elopements in Virginia, bnt how could that Ve here in this unbroken wilderneas? Where in the name of common sense couid we go? Do give me something like reason to base my decision upon." "Give yourself no trouble about where we won id go—that would be a matter of my own arranging, Only say whether

YOU will or will not go. If you will if you do not wish

spring-monkey

before—sounds

love'at

''Perfectly well." "AIM shall it 1)0 so "If akxi••permits." ,f,

rfThen

not.

say so at once or, speak the word, give me your hand silence—it shall be our farewell greeting forever. If, however, you will go

with load

I WV A FRIBND IN JTRBD'.

4l-

ine, your signifying as much will to other subjects of conversation.

What

^^hero was a pause of several seconds, during which the minister behind the tree trembled violently. A slight movement was heard, and a thrill of joy 1 ed through him like an electric ahand shot him to his feet after the far1 of a

fashion toyhand, hewormer 1 tones new

from a boy's

box—she was giving the parting In the next instant the starch was pletely taken out of him, ever, and he wilted down to his former seat, for that voice, whose musical I he already seemed to hear in the parsonage, came floating around the tree in these distinct words: "Yes, Ab, take me—I will go—I not stay here 1"

can-

the

Another brief paused ensued, and minister heard sounds more strange than

that a more knowing

person might have pronounced akin to those supposed to have been made by the man who was charged with kissing Betty Seudder. "Well done, my brave girl!' put I the gentleman. "The contract has b~ made and sealed. You are as trite to as moss on a tree is true to the North. .— there is no time t© waste in side talk There was a time when we could talk

been me But

our leisure, and take our leisure

to love, but not now. It is by no means certain that tho next moment shall be ours, so to the pointe at once. When I leave you hero I start forwith in search of our new home. Seo, at yonder point in tho river lies my canoe, already packed for the trip my all, save yourself, is there. "By the side of your foster-father's gato stands a shrub—a small silver poplar, I believe. Every morning, after the lapse of four weeks from to-day, I want you to examine it closely, aad early as possible in the night following the morning an which you shall find its uppermost twig broken and hanging down, como to the large syoamore tree in the valley, just below the house, prepared for a journey. I shall be there. Do you understand?"

good-by—I' near some one

whistling over the hill—we must not be seen together. Take the best eare of you for me, and be a good girl till I come."

And tho minister hoard a repetition of. those mysterious sounds. A little later aiid Mattie Collins stood upon the brow of a lofty hill not far awav, and saw alight canoe glide gracefully from sight around Green rivers smoko-draped headlines miles below. ...

CHAPTER II.

Four weeks rolled rapidly past the uppermost twig on the little poplar was broken, and for several nights in succession Ab Willis waited at the foot of the sycamore tree. He waited in vain, however for tho one whom he expected a

This was a mystery which ho tolt wholly unable to solve. That she had changed her mind was a thought not to be entertained for a moment, nor was it possible

readv

think that she had forgot

ten the appointment. Sho might belli —the only hypothesis that seemed at all plausible. He lingered in the neighbor-, hood of Col. Mumford's plantation, frequenting her accustomed haunts, but yet there came no solution to the mystery. He made inquiries concerning hw of

several whom he had formerly know as friends, but obtained nothing save a demonstration of the fact that men once friends are not necessarily always friends. Their answers were either evasive, or tending to an intimation that they knew nothiug about the matter, and had no disposition to meddle with other affairs than their own. Meantime everything went on at

Green

river as usual. None

save tho one in'whom he felt the most deeply interested seemed to be missing. He saw them all. The Colonel was taking his usual rounds, and even the Rev. Mr. Kilgore was passing to and fro between his boarding house and his school room, apparontly in the finest of spirits, and the fullest enjoyment of life and happiness. Nothing seemed to have taken place beyond the regular order of things, all of which had an effect so bewildering that, at times, he was almost led to mistrust his own sanity, or to believe that he

was

existing in some kind

of trance, whose principal characteristic was a superabundance of troubled dreams.

Davs continued to come and go until a week luid spent itsolf, and yet there appeared no sOmblance ot a solution. At the end of that time, as Ab Willis was walking in the woods near Col. Mumford's plantation, he was suddenly roused from the deep thought in which he had been for some time engaged, bv— ""Hay, mv lark! wbar now

Looking up, he saw that the words had been spoken by Dan Houce, a prominent old hunter in the settlement, and with whom he had never been on the best of terms. Houce was one of the first settlers, and, up to tho arrival of Willis, had been considered the leading hunter on Green river. This caused him to look upon the new co*ner as a kind of rival, and to feel no little jealousy on hearing him spoken of as the champion of the chase. Under such circumstances it is not to be wondered at that the reply came with a manifest coldness, if not crustiness: "No place in particular—why "Whv?" returned Dan. "I'm Bill Blizzard if I don't think you'd better be strikiu' for some other place than this?" "Upon what foundation, air?" "Ye'ro not wanted hereabouts—that's all. Yerroom'd be good company here at Green river." "Who do you represent in this, sir?" continued Willis. "Who sends you with such a bateh of stuff to me?" "Oh ef that's what ye're at," said the other. "I can tell ye quick enough. I ripisent, as ye call it, Dan Houce. Every tub stands on hits own bottom, and so do I. But now yon jest lemme give yea fool's advice—jest yon pack up yer tricks an' cut out'n this. Don't wait the twinkle on an eve. You'd better'd do hit 'an to wish ye had, I'm Bill Rliszaid, efve'adn't!" "Haven't I as much right to stay mn Yourself, or an otMr person*" "Mont be, but I'm mistaken ef ye 'adn't better ta*e a fool's advice 'an to wish ve "ad." "I don't ask you, or any man off your doth for advice just now. When I want advice I'll ask for it, and when I get

leave

Green river

the wrong tree. I could not have expected better treatment from Dan Houce, however, but then I don't know as he's any worse than the rest of them. It's a settled fact that I have no friends left on Green river—that is, if she's not left—I don't give her up yet by any means. How strange it seems! But a few short months ago every person in the colony, unless it was this Dan Houce, was my friend—now all are my enemies! And the strangest part of it is that they have not the slightest cause for so being. I have wronged no one—have not even thought of wronging any one, and yet all look at me as if I had been guilty of the highest crime known to the law, and shun me as if they thought too near an approach would result in their contamination. Butlshall see it through for right is might, and must prevail, as the saying is."

He had not gone far from the spot upon which the interview was held with Dan Hou36, till there was a new actor in the scene. A small boy, almost out of breath with running, approached him, and, placing a neatly folded note in his hand, made off in a direction opposite to that by which he had come with a degree of speed not in the least dimin-

A glance at the superscription revealed that the note had not been given to the wrong person. Opening it with eager hands, he read:

GREEN RIVER, Oct 24,1794.

MR. WILLIS: If you would learn all about the person of whom you have been making many fruitless inquiries, of late, be on the bank of Green River, just at the mouth of Sugar Creek, to-morrow morning, about sun-

A FRIEND.

The penmanship of the note, evidently that of a man, was of very good order but further than that Ab knew nothing about it. It was a strange hand to hiui he reflected, but no matter. The conclusion that he bad not a friend left in thesettlement might have been too hastily drawn at all events, he would heed the sugges-

Just as the sun was rising on the following morning, Ab Willis, In obedience to this resolve, appeared at the mouth of Sugar Creek, a small stream falling into Green river some two miles above the &>rder of the settlement.

The note had prepared him to calculate on meeting some one there bat no one seemed to be in waiting on his arrival, nor did anyone come in the course of nearly half-an-hour's stop at tho creek. Gradually tho conviction forced itself upon him that he had been made the victim of ri malicious sell, and, with a feeling that be should consider himself deeply indebted to the man who would reveal the perpetrator, he turned to retrace his steps down tho shore of the river.

Just then he learned that he was not alone, for out from behind a large tree that he was passing stepped an Indian,

with

extended hand and tho usual exclamation intended by them to indicate friendship. Willis returned his greeting by a warm shako of the hand, as it was necessary he should do to b© considered on friendly terms, after which the Indian, without further word or ceremony motioned him to follow, and parted in a brisk walk tip the course or tho creek.

A short distance, and five otter Indians sprung from their places of concealment, seixed the hunter, took possession of his arms, ahd gave him to understand that he was a prisoner. Why he was a prisoner they could or would not explain simply shaking their heads to his questionings, but all the while forcing him off into tho forest as fast as possible, with a member of their party holding him to each arm,

They took a northerly direction, and continued it till about noon, when they halted and dined on dried venison,giving their captive att equal sharo with themselves. Ou concluding their repast they resumed their march, and continued it leisurelv throughout the evening. At night tiiov encamped, and after tying the hands'of their prisoner behind him, and making the line fast to a sapling, thoy kindled a fire and partook of a meal as before but this time the prisoner came in for no share of it.

Having finished their yenison, the Indians withdrew a short distance and consulted together, after which they returned and began to dance tiro und the

Ab was Sufficiently versed in matters of the woods to know that this boded no good, and when, as the danciDgf continued, they began to show signs of excitement, ho felt that, from some cause or other, his case was a critical one. The Indians evidently meant him harm, as ho could plainly road in the angry gestures, which they made toward him as the dance grew more animating and when, a few minutes later, one of the dancers took up apiece of bark, and shoveling it full of live coals, threw them upon him, he bad no longer room for doubt.

All laughed loud and long to see Ab shake off the coals, and the dance went on more wildly than before. A littlo later still, and otieof the party dashed off to a neighboring stream,' from which lie soon returned with each hand filled with black mud. This he smeared over the face of the prisoner, ramming it into his eyes and mouth the wildest cheering arising from his companions during the operation.

Ten or fifteen minutes longer of dancing seemed to put the Indians entirely beside themselves with excitement. They howled, they raved, and beat themselves and each other, until finally one of them, apparently unablt to stand it any longer, drow his tomahawk and made a dash at the prisoner. A blow was aimed, but having the free use of his feet, and being a very active man, Ab managed to evade it by leaning aside. A second blow was just on the

Sians

111

go. There

is one thing, however, of which you may make certain—1*11 not go till I do get ready." "Mebbv *o," said Dan. with a laugh, as be turned on his Iwel and walked *brupttv away. "The villain!" thought Ab "he came on purpose to insnlt me, and I wisk I had knocked him down. If they think they can scare me away from here. It's my candid opinion they're barking up

oint of being made, and the other Inwet drawing their tomahawks, when a bright light suddenly flashed out from the thick woods near at hand, followed by a loud report of firearms. The Indian who had undertaken the assassination fell to the ground with the peculiar death-shout ofnls race, and immediately there rang out upon the night the warwhoop as of a large party just in the act of beginning a charge. So sudited ing heir

den and so unexpected was the surprise that the live surviving Indians fled precipitately, leaving their guns and other accouterments behind. "I'm wasn't from the ly with the burly person of Dan Houce. "Now, don't yer *ee ye'd a betU took a fool's advice? But" com©—we've no time to chaw, for them red devils'll be hack in agin in a few twitches topee what's up. Gobble a gun an' follow me —that I*, ef ye're not too much agin takin* advit-e." •While this talk wan going on, tho ootda which bound Ab Willis were being

cut

and in the next Instant he bad the possession of his own rifle and shot big, and the two were leaving that locality at

a rapid pace. "Where are your Ab, after they had moved on in silence

"I'm Bill Blizzard ef they am't." And so they Wore. Dan had produced the sounds which had been mistaken for the shouts of a large band, and his faithful rifle, ably assisted by an holster or horse-pistol, had fired the volley.

They continued to travel nearly the direction of the settlement till shortly after midnight, when a halt was called "Now," said Dan, "this ere thing is a goin'to get up a mortal muss. There's a Ingin killed, ye see, an' the other In-

fins

knows as now white men done hit. don' know who'll be

blamed,

COme*"with

other men?" asked

for some time. "What other men?" returned "Whv, those who assisted you in the attack?*' a h! they're all here." "Nor fe-'i

or what'11

grow orter hit, but there's one thing sure—but 1 furgot—ye haven't axt my advice." "Please don't mention that any more lam completely humbled now," said Ab. "Then, as I'se a saying, I'm Bill Blizzard ef hit'll do for you to be seen round about here ef ye want to keep a whole hide." "But must I leave and give up everything, Dan? I can willingly do anything now that you suggest, but that, but—" "Jest hold in now. I know yer caseused to be a

young

lark myself. Don't

s'pose you could do enny good by stayin' around till doomsday bnt since I happen to think about it, ye can't git away jist now, nohow. Every bratHl be a lookin' arter ye in the mornin,' perhaps. Lemme see. I've got hit nowcome on," and Dan struck out again in what a hunter would call a turkeytrot.

An hour or so, and they slopped at the edge of a thick clump of bramble briers, less than two miles from the edge of the settlement. Dan crawled in among them on all-fours, and Ab followed. Fairly in, and they came to a small hole going down among the rocks. It was little larger, apparently, than a flour barrel but Dan snoved himself into it, and whispered Ab to do likewise. Down a few feet, and tho space enlarged, and tho cave, for such it was, began to take ofl. They groped their way a short distance in the pitchy darkness, when Dan produced a flint and steel, and made other preparations for a light. A fow vigorous strokes, tho great sparks rolled like meteors through the darkness, and the spunk was on fire a few vigorous puffs from his capacious lungs, and the lire had spread, communicated itself to a

Elaze.ofTaking,

iece drv hornet's nest, and was in a then, apiece of candle from his bullet pouch, Dan lighted it, and they moved on.

It turned out to be one of the great caves which abound in that part of Kentucky. The rooms were large and beautifully fringed with stalactites and gypsum formations, which sparkled in tho light of the candle like a million of diamonds.

Having passed through several rooms, and attained some distance from the entrance, Dan stopped where a crystal spring trinkled down from the rocks into a natural reservoir, and told his companion to remain there until further orders. "I must be home aforo daybreak," ho continued, "else 'spiclon mout turn in the right d'rection. Hero is a remnant of jerk (dried venison) which I happen to have in mv shot-pouch—it'll do you for a chick. "I'll try to get back and let ye know how the cat jumps to-night, but if I don't, stay whar year till 1 do

And that Dan strode back toward the entrance, leaving Ab to the full enjoyment of darkness.

CHAPTER III.

OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE

Time moved heavily enough in that cave. The person who has never passed a few hours in one without light, is unqualified to form anything like a just conception of how it is. There is something almost unbearable about the darkness which one encounters in such a place—it really seems to be thick. You imagine that it don't breathe well. A night darker than any ever gathered on earth is most genial sunlight compared to it. An impression seems to take hold of one, if he is at all nervous, to tho effect that he is pressed between two great walls, reaching from earth to sky, and that the slightest movement on his part will cause them to tumble together and squeeze him to death. And the stillness which reigns Supreme—that is the most trying of all. One can hear tho inward and outward rush of the air he breathes, and each throb of his pulse may bo noted with startling distinctness.

Having no means by which ho could measure time, Ab bad to guess at the hours as they passed. The hour for breakfast soon arrived, according to his calculation, and he partook of tho dried venison. At noon he again fed on venison, and at night he finished the stock in store. An uneasy sleep upon a bed of sharp stones brought morning again, und he arose to fast, and to speculate as to the probable cause of Dan's not returning according to promise. Noon catne, and vet no intelligence from the outer world. Night, and still tho fast, now becoming very disagreeable, to say the least of it, was uubroken. Another miserable effort at sleep and it was onco morning, and yet Dan Houce bad not yet made his appearance!

Things were beginning to look critical, according to his way of thinking something had surely befallen Dan, in which event his rescue from the Indians would be little better than dropping from the frying pan into the fir#, lie nad heard enough about caves to know that a person without a light would stand a poor chance of finding his way out of one especially such a one as this, where large avenues were leading off in every direction, as he had noticed to be the case while they were coming in.

In a little while -there came a new and even more unpleasant train of thought. Who knew but Dan's intentions were no better than those of the Indians at last? He had never looked upon Dan as a friend, and was it not possible that Col. 1 tfi 1 L.y] •AAMrflV

Mumford and Mr. Kilgore had secretly offered a large sum or him attac with a view

ed a large sum of money to have put ont of the "way, and that Dan •k on the Indians was made simply

getting possession of the

prisoner that he might obtain the reward And was it not also possible that the fellow bad lacked courage to murder him outright: had hit upon this plan,

and

had actually buried him alive? The air seemed more stifling than it did when they first entered—was it not even probable that this arose from Dan's having filled up the entrance to the cave with I stones to prevent his egress, should he. by any singular stroke of fortune, find himself there?

These things were horrible to think ol the more so sineea careful weighing of all the circumstances made them appear so very probable. Under it and the effect I of long fasting, bis strength failed rapidI ly, forcing the conviction upon him that I something must be done at once If done at all. There was bnt little grounds for hope it is troe, still it would be cowardly to give up and die without an effort, 1 be thought, therefore an effort should be made, if be failed to find the mouth of

iii

the cave, matters could be no worse in 'consequence than they were already or If, finding it, he was unable to get ont, death would come no harder there than

Ovntmmed on Seventh Tag*.

MRS. LYDIA E. PINKHAtt

OF LYNN, MASS.

IUSCOVEBKR Of

LYDIA E. PINKHAM'S

VEOETABLE COMPOUND. ThoPositireCnre

For all Female Complaints.

This preparation, Its name siffniite*, consists of Vegetable Properties that arc harmless to tho most delIcate Invalid. Upon one trial the merlti ot thia Oompoand will b« reoognlxed, a* relief is Immediate and. when lt« use Is continued, In ninety-nine cases In a hua_ dred, a permanent cure is effected,as thousands will tee Ufy, On account ot its proren merits, it is to^ajr recommended and prescribed by the best physicians In the country.

It will cure entirely the worst form of falling of the uteras, Leucorrhcea, irregular and painful Menstruation, all Ovarian Troubles, Inflammation and Ulceration, Flooding*, all Displacement* and the consoquent spinal weakness, and is especially adapted to the Change of life. It will dissol re and expel tumors from the uterus in an early stage of development. The tendency to e&ncerous humors there is checked rery •pecdily by its use.

Xa fact it has proved to bo the great, est and best remedy that lias ever bean diaoovorsd. It permeates every portion of Uie system, and gives new life and vigor. It temovosfalntnc88,flatulcncy, destroys all craving for stimulants, and relieves weakness of the stomach

It cures Bloating, Headaches, Kervotu Prostration, General Debility, Sleeplessness, Depression and Indigestion. That feeling of bearing down, causing pain, weight and backache, is always permanently cured by Its use. It will at all times, and under nil circumstances, act in harmony with the law that governs the female system.

For Kidney Complaints of either sex this oom pound Is unsurpassed. Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound ts prepared at233 and 135 Western Avenue, Lynn, Mass. Price $1.00. Six bottles for $&.00. Sent by mail in the form ot pills, also in the form ot Loaengce, on receipt ot price, t'.OO, per box, for either. Mrs. HNKHAH rrcely answer»all letters of inquiry. Shnd for pamphlet. AddresMtsAbove Mention thia poptr.

No family should be without LYDIA E. riNKHAM* UVER PILLS. They cure Constipation, Biliousness, ^MTorjudlty of tbe Liver. 85 cents per bo*

JOHN D. PARK A SON,

Wholesale Airontn. Cincinnati, Ohio.

THE OUEAT

tIKIAIM.NU

N1»£1IFI0

FOR

(omplaints.

THE SYMPTOMS OF LIVER COMPLAINT are uneasiness and pain in tho NOIUOtlmcNpaln In thefthoulder, nn«i 1Haldo,

mlstakon

for rheumatism, tho Htomoc.li IHKIFOCU'U with loss of appetite and Mcktiow bowelx, In «oneral, costive, sometime*alternating with lax the head in troubled with pain, nnd dull, heavy Nontuitlon: ooriHiderable lust* of memory, with-painful sensation of having left undone something which ought to have been done often complaining of weaklier, nobility and low spirits. (Sometimes many of the above symptoms attend the llHOi»te, and at other tlmeii very few of them hut the Liver Is generally the organ most involved. REGULATE THE LIVER, AN1) PREVENT Dysyepsia, Constipation, Jaundico, 111 I ions

Attncks, Chills and Fever, Haadadhe, Colie, Depression of Spirits, •*. Sour Stomach, Heart-:' bum, PLes, ete. See that you get the Genuine In white wrapper, with rea Z, prepared only by J. 11. Zeilin A Co. Hold by all Druggist*.

ITHE ONLY MEDICINE

I!f EITIIEIt LIQUID OK DBY FOBH -That Acts at the same time on

\TStima, TBJt 20WZL8, An TBI KlBWm. I WHY ARE WE SICK?

Beectute ict allow thtte grtal organt to become dogged or torpid, and poitonou* I humort are therefore forced into the btood 1 that should be expelled nafuraUy.

KIDNEY-WORT

WILL SURELY CURE IKIONEY

DISEASES,

I LIVER COMPLAINTS,

IPIX.ES,

COH«TIPATl6K, UBIJfABT

•MEASES, rSMALK WEAKNMIM, AHD NKBTOITI DIMBDKBI, Ifa'cautlnyfree action qf these organ* and I tutoring their power to tktvw qf disease. 1 YThj aifferJMUoas palm* aad aches! |wky femcitei with Pile*, Comtlpatio*I I Why frlghUaed over disorder** Eidaejsl I Wkj *ad«r* servo** or siek kosdackotf

tTss KtnNET.WOETiwd rtjoU* toaUk. ft Is pot up in Vrr T*e*t*M* or wfcleb Bttkt of Imrttf" Also teU^MVW*. very C«Me^ I

tMtel, for tbeie that cannot re*4Uy prepare It. I am art* wttfc eqaal efflcWmey LOB 0 OF TOTJE DBOOOTST. PB1CMLH

WSLLB» EICBAEWOS C*.,Pr*y'*» |(Wm—d the dry part pe111) WWJMTOM,rX.

yOTICE.

THE

Eldrtdge SewiMK Machine Office HAS been changed to

Ffek'* Hoo« Pump BniMiiig, 2fo. 1J7 Mouth Third Ktreet, between Ohio and Walnat, w**t ride.

It is Warranted^ It Is tbe mart complete, desirable nfAeblne erer offered to the public.

Being the latent, It ha* the advantage of having very deniable and new Improvement*.

"4-

Dont boy until yoa nee U. ,, Harry Metaeker, late solicitor for the White, wlU be glad to see his o!! cnxtotnei*.

Office, 117 Hoath Third street, second door north of Foot*, Hunter 4rCo' Livery Htabie.

W. H. FISK, Agent.