University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.
THE PHANTOM.

“For Heaven's sake, Tom, what is it? what's the
matter?” cried the wondering Henry, running up to
him.

The old woodman slowly turned his eyes upon
the young man, with a strange kind of stare, and said,
with solemn earnestness, and a perceptible shudder:

“I've seed it, Harry!”

“Seen what?”

“And heerd it, too!”

“Heard what, Tom?”

“Thar's no denying it, younker, 'cept I leaves
out every sense I've got!”

“Well, Tom, don't sit there mystifying me, but
tell me at once what you've seen and heard! I heard
something, too—a wild shriek, like a woman's.”

“That's it!” cried Tom, grasping the young man's
arm and glancing quickly around, as if he half
expected to see some fearful apparition start up beside
him; “that's it! but it warn't no woman; it
warn't nothing human, nor 'arthly—no, sir, it
warn't!”

“Do tell me, then, what it was!”

“Don't know, Harry,” replied Tom, with a lugubrious

face and dubious shake of the head; “and
what's more, thar don't nobody. It's been seed
afore, by old hunters and scouts, and al'ays fotches
bad luck to them as looks on't, or hears it; but nobody
can't tell what it ar'—whar it comes from, or
whar it goes to!”

“Oh, you mean the Forest Wonder, or Demon,
or Phantom, that has scared so many courageous
fellows?”

“That's what I mean!” said Tom, emphatically.
“I seed it, sir, closer to me nor I is to you, jibbering
and shrieking right in my face; and how I'm yere
to tell on't, ar' a special wonder and a mystery—fur
though I says it myself as shouldn't, I war so
skeered that it's amazing I didn't die right thar in
my tracks!”

“Pray tell me all about it, Tom!” said Henry,
glancing sharply around him, with a look that
showed he was prepared for a startling narration—
for though not given to all the wild, ignorant superstitions
of the time, he was in a condition to admit
there might be strange things happen that could not
be accounted for by human philosophy.

Within the past year he had heard rough borderers,
around their camp-fires, tell of a strange apparition,
that had been seen in wild places, in the
depth of the wilderness; and though he had been
far from crediting all they had said concerning the
wonder, or drawing the same superstitious conclusions
as themselves, yet he had not been so skeptical

as to suppose it was all mere imagination because
he had not seen it himself. He believed there had
been something seen, bearing the human form, which
had suddenly and mysteriously appeared and disappeared;
and now he had just had evidence,
through his own sense of hearing, of some creature,
with a voice like a woman's, having been near him,
and he was about to have the testimony of a friend,
who had both seen and heard, added to all the rest.

“You see,” said Tom, “I war down in the valley
thar, hunting so'thing for our supper, whilst you
were fooling up he-yar, when my eye lit onto what I
tuk for a deer, and I fired and drapped it. I didn't
kill it dead, you see, and I run up and cut its throat,
and then got down and went to cutting out the best
part for our feed. I'd just got a nice, juicy piece
tuk out and put aside, when down come the strangest
thing in natur', ker wallup, right on to me and the
brute, knocking me over as ef I'd been struck by a
falling tree. I jumped up, thinking it war a Injun;
but when I seed it, I knowed it warn't nothing human.
It looked some'at like a woman, but war all
kivered with scales and ha'r like a fish—”

“A fish don't have hair, Tom!” interrupted Henry.

“Wall, this critter had,” went on Tom, “and eyes
like coals of fire, that almost burnt into me; and
sich teeth! and sich claws! the Lord be marciful!
Whew! Whar's the use? I can't describe nothing.
Think of the devil, and put all you kin fancy to it!
Wall, sir, it pounced on to the chunk of meat that

I'd cut off for our supper, and, jibbering and grinning
right in my face, it gin a shriek, like ten thousand
wildcats, and shot off in a streak of fire and
smoke!”

“Where did it go to?”

“The Lord knows, Harry! I only knows that
I come he-yar about as quick as my pins would
do it.”

“You didn't fire at it, then?”

“Fire! Whar's the use? My rifle warn't loaded;
and ef it had ben, no ball would hev teched that
Thing!”

“Pshaw! You were scared, Tom!”

“And whar's the man that wouldn't a ben, with
the devil stealing his supper?” said Tom, wiping the
perspiration from his forehead. “I tell you, Harry,
I've ben in some ticklish fixes afore now, when I
didn't spect my life was wo'th a cud of tobacker,
but I never had nothing take me down like that!
Say, ar' my ha'r scorched anywhar?”

“Not that I can perceive,” smiled Henry.

“You needn't grin, younker,” growled Tom, rather
testily, “for I tell you it's a marcy it warn't all
burnt off, it war so infarnal hot, jest as ef a ball of
lightning had whirled round my head! Now I
think on't, I believe I smelt brimstone!”

“Tom, you go too far,” said Henry, gravely. “I
am prepared to admit you saw something frightful,
but I am not so sure the apparition was supernatural.
Might it not have been some kind of a beast

resembling a human being? something like those
I've read about inhabiting the wilds of Africa? a
large baboon, for instance?”

“Woofh!” exclaimed Tom, contemptuously; “ef
thar war any flesh and blood about the Thing, d'ye
s'pose I'd a got skeered at it?”

“But it carried off flesh and blood, Tom, according
to your own account, and what do you suppose
a hobgoblin would want with a chunk of deer-meat?”

“I don't know, younker—I didn't ax no questions.
Whar's the use? How do you spect a animal would
have jumped down from the skies, like that did?”

“Were there no trees around you?”

“Wall, what of 'em?”

“Could it not have leaped down from one of
them?”

“Thar's no use talking to you!” cried Tom, rather
angrily, springing up and beginning to load his rifle
—a precaution he had so far neglected. “You're
good on pictur's and gineral finikies, but I knows a
beaver from a buffaler, or a stump-tailed dorg from
a hole in the ground!”

Henry made no immediate reply, and nothing
more was said till Rough Tom had finished reloading
his rifle.

“I should like to see the spot where this strange
Thing made its appearance!” said Henry, at length.

“Foller me, then!” returned the other; “for I'll
jest go back thar with any man as lives—though

I'd rather face a half a dozen Shawness nor see it
ag'in!”

“Did you not say it was bad luck to see or hear
this strange Creature?” queried the young artist, as
the two carefully picked their way down the hill.

“Yes, that's what they say!” was the answer.
“Thar war Jim Turner and Bill Sproats as seed it,
about six months ago, down on the Salt; and Jim
he got killed and sculped the next week; and Bill
tuk the measles and haint ben well sence. Then
thar war one-legged Pete, as seed it down at Big
Bone Lick; and the next day he war chased by
Injuns, and had a tight dodge for 't, and the week
arter he war nigh killed by a wounded stag that
turned on him. Then thar war Ephe Sikes, as——
But whar's the use? We'll hev so'thing orful arter
it, sure! I wouldn't wonder now ef I'd run into
the Shawnees, tumble over a precipice, or cotch the
smallpox!”

When Rough Tom and his companion reached
the spot where the former had killed the deer, not
a particle of the carcass was to be seen.

“Thar it lay,” said the old woodman, with an air
of solemn mystery, as he pointed to some blood on
the ground, “and I war right atop on't, when the—
the—Thing pounced down!”

“I see! from that large tree right above?”

“Spect thar is a tree thar,” returned Tom, rubbing
his eyes, as if to remove all doubts, “though
I'd a swore it war all clean sky.”

“And doubtless you would be willing to swear to
many things that are not exactly gospel!” returned
the other. “Well, the deer is gone, you see! and,
my life on it, whatever took it away was of flesh
and blood! Can't we trail it, Tom? See! here is
the print of a human foot!”

“You kin, ef you want to go off in a blaze of
brimstone!” growled Tom; “but I wouldn't trail it
fur all you're wo'th, or ever spects to be—no, sir!
Come! whar's the use? Let's put off, and git as fur
as we kin from this place afore sundown!”

“Lead on, then!” rejoined the young man; and,
without any further words, the old hunter pushed
into the nearest thicket, and went forward, with long
and rapid strides—the other, as was his custom, following
close behind him.

Just as the sun was setting and they were thinking
about a place to camp for the night, some three
or four deer came bounding past. Quick as thought,
the old woodman had his rifle to his shoulder and
the trigger pulled—but the piece missed fire.

“I knowed it,” he said, with a mysterious shake
of his head; “it all comes of that cussed Phantom!
and I shouldn't wonder ef we starved to death!”

“Look to your priming, Tom, and don't let the
Phantom take away all your wits!” said Henry, half
vexed and half amused at the whimsical superstitions
of the other. “If you go on this way at every
trifle, you will not be fit for the woods, but only for
some feather-bed settlement, as you say!”

“Not a single kernal in he-yar,” said Tom, as he
opened the pan of his rifle, “and I know I filled it.”

“Well, then, put some in, and be ready for the
next time!” rejoined Henry. “I'm sorry you missed
fire, for I'm as hungry as a bear, and I'm afraid we
shall not get another shot to-day.”

“Thar's a lettle jerked meat left,” said Tom, “and
we'll hev to put up with that. I wouldn't wonder
ef that cussed Thing had bewitched this old rifle
so's she'll never go off ag'in.”

“If it won't go off any other way, you can carry
it off!” laughed Henry.

“Woofh!” grunted Tom; “whar's the use?”

It was vexatious to think they had twice missed
a good supper, but there was no help for it now, and
they were obliged to camp and put up with the food
they carried in their knapsacks. They selected a
dry spot, on the side of a hill, near a spring of good
water, but did not kindle a fire, as they had nothing
to cook, and the weather was not cold enough to
render it necessary. Although Tom was full of evil
predictions, nothing occurred through the night to
disturb them, and at the first streak of day they got
up and resumed their journey. Before noon they
came upon a bear digging roots, and Tom told his
companion that if it were not for his rifle being bewitched
he could kill the animal easily enough.

“Suppose you try it, at all events!” said Henry.

“I will,” returned the other, bringing his piece to

his shoulder as he spoke, “ef only to show you it
arn't of no use.”

He pulled the trigger, and, to his great astonishment,
a sharp report followed, and the bear dropped.

This success in a great measure restored the spirits
of the old woodman.

“Thar arn't no spell on't now,” he said, with a
grim smile, “and the critter went down like old
times.”

The bear, though not killed outright, was speedily
dispatched; and our adventurers started a fire,
toasted slices of the meat, and made a hearty meal.
They took off the skin of the beast, and carried it
with them, and also a portion of the carcass, to
serve them for the two following meals. They made
a long journey that day, passed the night without
mishap, and, by noon of the day following, reached
in safety the hills overlooking the fort at Limestone,
on the Ohio River, where they soon after joined the
hardy men who were to accompany them on their
journey to the mouth of the Great Kanawha.