James Bowen - Scouting Dave

Soon wild fancies obtruded into his brain, and after rolling from side to side under their influence for some time, he suddenly awoke, as fully as at noonday. For a moment he wondered what had awakened him. He listened. Surely there could be no mistaking that sound! The sharp crackling of a fire fell upon his ear.

Directly above his couch was a narrow aperture, which had been constructed for a loop-hole, but which had thus far been used only for the purpose of ventilation. He rose quickly, and applied his eye to the opening, but a fierce current of heat and smoke caused him to recoil instantly. Leaping from his couch he found that the room was filled with smoke. The mystery was then solved. The house was on fire!

Springing quickly to the cot of his father, the startled young man aroused him, and briefly communicating his discovery, hastened to awake his sister. Then he turned to a window and endeavoured to gaze out. Vain effort! The smoke whirled past it in dark masses, while alternate jets of flame mingled with the dusky clouds. By this time both Emily and her father had thrown on their garments, and before George could unbar the door they were at his back, white with alarm and anxiety. The father had seized his rifle, but the young man did not pause for weapons. He threw open the door, and the entire party stepped quickly forth.

For a moment they were blinded by the whirling smoke, but, passing beyond it, they turned to view the extent of the conflagration. Simultaneously, the yells of a hundred savage throats burst upon their horrified ears – the rapid reports of a score of rifles followed – and father and son sunk to the earth, pierced by many bullets. Although Emily felt the garments she wore cut and torn by the whistling shots, she was uninjured by the deadly shower. She saw her father and brother fall, knew that they were killed, and, with a terrible heart-sickness of horror, she sunk upon the ground, almost unconscious of the dread scene around her.

Emily was barely conscious that a yelling warrior rushed upon her – that a gleaming hatchet was raised above her head. She hoped and expected that her last moment had come, but it was not to be so. A rough voice interposed, and the blow was stayed. Then all became blank unconsciousness.

Despite her terrible surroundings, it was but a brief time that Emily remained insensible. The faint light of the moon, in concert with the glare of flames, rendered objects quite distinct, and the poor girl at once saw that she was a close prisoner.

She looked up at her captors. Nothing could she gather from those grim, exultant guards. To her entreaties they gave not even the slightest heed, scarce removing their gaze from the wild scene of the burning cabin. A dull pain at her ankles caused her to look down. A deeper pang went to her sensitive heart as she saw that her limbs were securely bound with thongs of dried deerskin. This, indeed, seemed to unloose the fountain of her tears, and, bowing her head upon her hands, she gave way to violent and heart-breaking sobs.

Now that her sorrow was unloosed, she wept long and violently, utterly oblivious of all around her. She did not heed the guttural “Ugh” with which one of her dusky guards directed the attention of his comrades to some interesting movement. A nondescript figure emerged from the throng and came toward the group, leading a horse, saddled and equipped for a lady rider. Though dressed in the costume, and affecting the manners of the savages, and flowing black hair, beard of the same hue, and general contour of the features, proclaimed him unmistakably a white.

William Ashbey or “Wild Bill,” as he was usually called, was a reckless, dissipated fellow, who had fully followed out the likes and dislikes of his lawless disposition. Even while a mere youth, wild stories were related concerning his character, as caused all law-loving citizens to shun and despise him. Thus debarred from honourable society, he more readily sought that congenial to his nature. Gamblers, horse-thieves, and blacklegs – with which the settlements were always cursed – became his associates and confidants, and he became at once an object of hatred and fear among the more quiet settlers.

The man who offended Ashbey was sure, sooner or later, to suffer from some despicable revenge.

Chance frequently threw hardened characters in the way of the Hinton family, and the young reprobate soon discovered that he loved the fair Emily. So far as his nature admitted, Ashbey was no doubt sincere in his attachment. But his love was a base, selfish passion, totally unworthy the name.

Acting with his usual impulse, young Ashbey lost no time in declaring his suit, and pressing it with all his power of persuasion, not only to the father but daughter also. Finding himself totally unsuccessful, and every overture mildly but firmly rejected, the suitor broke into a burst of passion which finally ended in his expulsion from the house of Mr. Hinton. Vowing a fearful revenge, he left them.

Time passed away, and Wild Bill was nearly forgotten. True, there were reports that he had become dissatisfied with civilized life, and had joined the Indians in their forest haunts; but as peace prevailed, little was thought of the rumour. Men inured to danger pay but little heed to rumours, and if Wild Bill was really removed from their vicinity, the settlers were quite willing to let him rest, among savages or elsewhere.

Such was the person who now strode carelessly into the midst of the grim band. Quickly placing the rein of the horse he led in the hand of a brave, he then approached the maiden, with a look of infernal exultation lighting up his features.

The sound of the approaching party had aroused Emily, and she looked up at his advance. By the dim light she could discern the features of the person, and inspired by the thought a white man was near, she lifted her hands toward him, exclaiming:

“Oh, sir, you will save me! You – ”

“Yis, my leddy, I’ll save ye,” he sneered, with brutal exultation. “I crossed the big drink to save ye – tuk ye from the Winnebago what was goin’ ter lift yer hair – got yer hoss, with yer own trappin’s onter him, an’ I jist kalkelate I’ll save ye, so no baby-face’ll git ye away from Wild Bill, arter all. I’d like ter save yer old dad, an’ little Georgy, but the boys got thar’ idees up, an’ I couldn’t do it.”

What wonder that the maid recoiled as from a loathsome serpent?

Wild Bill folded his arms upon his broad chest, and regarded the maiden for some time in silence. Then he bent nearer, and broke forth:

“So, my purty, it seems yer not satisfied kase I saved yer life, an’ took all these ’ere pains for your sake. I like to see gratitude once in a while, I does; but, no matter. Maybe you’ve forgot the time when I cum an’ begged for yer hand, an’ told ye how I loved ye; an’ how I was kicked from the house for it – yis, kicked from the house!” he repeated, in savage tones. “Ye kinder liked little spooney-faced Charley Markley, but now I hope ye’ve had his company long enough, so ye can change hands a bit.”

“Oh, monster, monster! why do you come in this fearful manner to drag me from my home, and murder my father and brother? Do you not know that vengeance will overtake you, and your wretched life pay the forfeit?”

“Ha, my lady! Now we begin to talk o’ vengeance! Well, that’s rich! Jest look around ye, my fine bird. Winnybagies, Sacs and Foxes, Pottywattimies – all led by old Black Hawk, and all the chiefs o’ the tribes. Maybe ye think we come over here jist for yer purty carkiss; but I’ll tell ye, Illinoy belongs to these here Injins, an’ they’ll hev’ it, too, afore two moons, as sure as I’ll hev’ you.”