 | A Desperate Encounter. Wild scenes on the frontiers, or, Heroes of the West |  |
5. A Desperate Encounter.
Adam Wiston, though even now unknown to fame, was
one of the boldest and bravest of that hardy band of
daring spirits who led the van of civilization into the great
wilderness of the West. Born on the soil of Pennsylvania,
nurtured among her wild and romantic hills, he early
imbibed a love for bold and daring exploits, and even as a
boy became the hero of some remarkable adventures.
In those days of peril, the frontier afforded no facilities
for the training of youth in the knowledge of books; and
staunch, robust, intellectual men entered upon the active
duties of life without other education than that which
fitted them for a victorious march into the very depths of
the savage wilds, which still stretched before them for
hundreds and thousands of miles. The learning gained
from letters is a species of mental luxury, seldom indulged
in by those who find it necessary to be constantly on the
alert to provide the daily wants of physical life and guard
themselves from a thousand surrounding perils.
Adam Wiston was, therefore, no scholar; but no man
of the forest, in which he wished to live and hoped to die,
than he had at the time he bade his friends adieu, shouldered
his rifle, and, afoot and alone, set off on a bold
exploration toward the wilds of Kentucky. What he
saw, what he enjoyed, what he encountered, and what he
suffered, from that eventful period till the day of his
death, will probably never be known to the world; but
there are some traces of his daring and checkered career,
which show that his was not a life to be envied by the man
who considers personal ease and personal safety the paramount
objects of his existence. Tradition, the mother of
written history, the preserver of unrecorded deeds and
facts, has handed down a few of the adventures and
exploits of this hero of the wilderness, and which it is the
purpose of this article to relate.
Adam was a large, powerfully built man, six feet in
height, and well proportioned, with iron nerves and whipcord
muscles, and, at five-and-twenty, regarded himself as
the equal in physical strength and endurance of any
human being on the frontier, whether foreign or native,
white or Indian, and always stood ready to put the matter
to the test in any manner which any adverse believer
might think proper. He was, moreover, supple, active,
long-winded, and quick of foot; and had more than once,
even when a mere boy, borne off the prize from older and
running, leaping, throwing weights, and the like;
and when it is added that he was true of eye, steady of
hand, and a dead shot, it will be perceived that he was a
man whom no single antagonist might encounter with
safety. Like nearly all of his class, Adam Wiston had
come to regard his natural foe, the native savage, with an
implacable hatred, and he never missed an opportunity of
testifying to the fact in the most vindictive manner. It
was an invariable rule with him, to kill an Indian whenever
and wherever he could; and so noted had become his
feats of daring in this respect, that the savages had named
him Papapanawe, (Lightning,) and spoke of him with
dread, and the few whites that knew him hailed him as
the hero of heroes, the bravest of the brave.
Early one morning in the spring of the year, when the
great forest had donned its new mantle, and looked
delightfully green and gay, Adam crept stealthily and
noiselessly over a steep ridge, which formed the left
bank of a well-known stream, and, gliding silently
down into a narrow ravine, ensconced himself in a dense
thicket, within thirty yards of a famous deer-lick. Here,
carefully stretching himself out at full length upon the
earth, with his long rifle properly adjusted, and the
clustering leaves before him just sufficiently parted to give
him a sight of the spot which some timid deer might be
patience of an old, experienced hunter for the happy
moment when he should be able to bring down his game,
and thus provide himself with many a coveted meal.
Adam was not destined, on this occasion, to have his
patience tried by any unusual delay; for he had scarcely
watched the “lick” a quarter of an hour, when, in the
direct line of his vision, appeared a sleek, fat buck. The
rifle was already pointed, Adam was quick of sight, and
the next instant there was a flash, a crack, and the unerring
ball had sped on its fatal mission. The buck suddenly
bounded into the air, and fell over on its side, where for a
few moments it lay quivering in the last throes of death.
But, strange to relate, there was another report of
another rifle, so exactly timed with Adam Wiston's, that
the two sounds were blended into one, and two balls at
the same moment struck the same animal at opposite sides.
The quick ears of the old hunter barely caught the foreign
sound, and he by no means felt certain it was not an auricular
deception; but trained from his youth to prudence
and caution, he was not the man to slight the faintest
warning of danger when nothing was to be gained by bold
and reckless daring. If it was indeed the report of another
gun he had heard, it was, he thought, more likely to be
that of an enemy than a friend; and situated as he was in
the great wilderness, his very life depending in no slight
hand to ascertain if he had aught to fear, before rashly
venturing from his covert.
Gathering himself upon his knees, therefore, and slowly
and cautiously pushing his head up through the interlacing
bushes, he directed his glance to the opposite side of the
stream, where there chanced to be a ravine similar to the
one he occupied; and there, in direct confirmation of his
suspicion, he beheld a thin wreath of smoke slowly ascending
and dispersing itself in the clear morning air; while
just below it, barely perceptible among the bushes, and so
blending with them that no eye but a practiced woodman's
might have detected it, he perceived the shaven crown and
painted face of a hideous savage, with its black, basilisk
eyes fairly gleaming, as it seemed, with fierce desire, and
fixed steadily and searchingly upon himself.
Had there been in the mind of Adam Wiston the faintest
shadow of a doubt of the Indian's simultaneous discovery
of himself, he would have silently and cautiously withdrawn
himself from exposure, reloaded his rifle, and awaited his
opportunity of a fatal shot; and even as it was, he hurriedly
debated with himself the propriety of boldly unmasking;
but yielding the next moment to an almost
uncontrolable impulse, he uttered a loud yell of defiance,
and called out to his adversary in the most taunting
manner:
“Hello! you greasy curmudgeon of a sneaking tribe!
ef you want my hair, you'll have to come arter it, and it'll
take a man to crop it; but ef I had a squaw here, I'd send
her for yourn, and consider her time wasted when she'd
got it. Come, you old painted brute! I dar' you to a fair
stand-up fight, and no rifles atween us, and the best man
gets a scalp and a buck! But, bah! what's the use o' talking?
for it arn't in you to understand any thing like human
language; and it 'ud be worse nor a seven-year agur for
sich as me to break my jaws over gibberish that no sensible
human ever did know any thing about.”
While Adam was thus giving vent to his rage and contempt,
he was not idle; but, with his person all concealed
except his head, his hands were actively engaged in putting
a new charge into his rifle. He had succeeded in
getting in the powder, and was in the act of ramming
home the ball, when the Indian, who had up to this time
apparently remained immovable—and who, perhaps, from
some slight but perceptible motion of his enemy's head,
had conjectured what he was doing—suddenly uttered a
short, shrill whoop, and disappeared.
“Only one minute more, Greasy, and thar'd been
another dead careass for the buzzards!” muttered Adam,
as, aware of his own dangerous exposure, he suddenly
ducked his head and crawled stealthily among the stems
of the bushes, away from the spot he had occupied, for
him. And then, as he re-primed his piece, keeping as
wary a watch the while as his situation would permit, he
added: “Now for it; it's eyther me or that red-skin afore
night.”
Thinking it the most prudent course to maintain his
concealment for the present, in case the savage, whom he
fancied would not leave the vicinity, should attempt to
steal upon his retreat, Adam again stretched himself upon
the ground, and for something like an hour listened keenly
to every sound, and sharply watched the motion of every
leaf around and above him, to be certain it was stirred by
the breeze and not by his foe. Then finding his time was
likely to be wasted, and fearing the savage might escape
him after all, he resolved upon a venture of exploration
into the retreat of his enemy, though not with that careless
haste which might give the other the andantage he bad
himself hoped to gain.
With the greatest caution, therefore, and by a sinuous,
snake-like motion, so that no movement of the bushes
above him would indicate his course, he worked his body
up the ravine and over the top of the ridge; and then
gliding into the thick wood on the other side, he set off
more boldly on a circuitous route, intending to cross the
stream some distance above, and come up carefully behind
the point where he had espied the savage.
Now it so chanced that there was a very singular and
remarkable train of coincidences, formed by the same
thoughts and desires actuating these two human beings
at the same time; for both had stolen to their different
concealments together, had together espied the deer, had
fired together, had examined each other in a like manner,
had both disappeared together, and waited and watched
for each other, and each had actually set off to circumvent
the other at the same moment, both going up the stream;
while, as if to put a climax to the whole, both came out
face to face on opposite sides of the narrow river, with a
distance of less than thirty yards dividing them; when,
quick as lightning, both pieces were simultaneously raised
and fired, there being as before a blended report. Adam
felt a sharp, burning twinge in his right arm, and saw the
savage suddenly press his hand to his right breast; and the
next moment these brave, undaunted men, with loud yells
of rage and defiance, were springing toward each other for
a mortal hand-to-hand combat.
Casting their pieces aside, they met in the middle of the
stream, which was here shallow, and rushed foaming and
gurgling over a stony bed; and had there been a spectator,
conscious of all that had occurred, he would have considered
their individual chances of life about equal—for
the Indian was a large, athletic fellow, supple and active,
mutual hate and a fierce desire for victory.
With their knives gleaming, they met as recorded, and
for a few moments there was a flashing and crashing
of steel, as both struck and parried with something of the
skill of two masters of fence. But a fight like this, at such
close quarters, and with such short weapons, could not long
continue without some serious wounds on one side or both;
and with a quick and sudden blow, Adam succeeded in
giving his adversary a fearful gash across the breast, followed
by another which nearly severed the tendons of the
left arm. With a howl of rage and pain, the savage
started back a pace, the blood flowing profusely; and then,
measuring his already panting antagonist with a quick
glance of his eagle eye, he suddenly bounded forward, and
made a fearful lunge for his heart. The old hunter, though
in a measure prepared for this, could not altogether avoid
the thrust; but he so quickly turned as to receive the wound
in his right side; at the same time plunging his own knife
half way to the hilt in the back of his foe, barely missing
the vertebra, which would have terminated the contest in
his favor.
Too highly wrought up by a fierce and vengeful excitement,
and too eager for the finishing stroke to give a proper
heed to defence, both combatants, badly wounded, covered
with blood, panting for breath, and with failing strength,
and furiously, each blow telling with fearful effect upon the
other. At length their knives met in such a manner that
both dropped from their hands together; and then they
clinched, swayed to and fro like intoxicated men, and fell,
and rolled over and over in the water upon the protruding
stones, locked in each other's embrace, knotted
together, and each struggling to be uppermost and strangle
or drown his antagonist.
It was still a fearful and desperate fight, and was continued
in the manner described for some five minutes,
during which no one could have told who would eventually
be the victor.
At last Adam, in rolling under the Indian for the sixth
or eighth time, perceived that chance or Providence had
brought him back to the very spot where he had lost his
knife; and bethinking him of this, he, by a desperate exertion,
released one of his hands, and placed it partially
beneath him, in the hope of getting hold of the weapon.
To his unbounded delight, the attempt proved successful;
and the next moment, with all his remaining strength, he
was actively plunging it, with rapid thrusts, into the back
and sides of his enemy.
This, and it may be this alone, gave him the victory;
for the Indian, though still holding out with a wonderful
tenacity of life, and exerting himself even against hope,
less exertion than formerly, was able to turn him again,
when, plunging the knife into his throat, he ended the
contest.
Adam, finding the savage was at last really dead, slowly
gathered himself up, seated himself upon the body, wiped
the blood and perspiration from his face, and, in a somewhat
doleful, half ludicrous tone, complimented his late
adversary by saying:
“You war the toughest old red nigger as ever Adam
Wiston fou't.”
He then, in a slow and deliberate manner, proceeded to
scalp the dead Indian; which done, he took from his
person all that he considered of any value, secured both
rifles, and then sat down on the bank and dressed his own
wounds in the best manner he could. Though seriously,
he was not dangerously, wounded; and having rested
himself for an hour, he set to work on the dead buck, cut
off his breakfast, kindled a fire, cooked and ate it. Then
cutting off another large piece of meat, to serve his necessities
for the journey, he set off at a slow, feeble pace for
the nearest station, where he arrived during the night, and
narrated his desperate encounter to a crowd of eager and
wondering listeners.
| A Desperate Encounter. Wild scenes on the frontiers, or, Heroes of the West | |