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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"A Romance of the Black Hawk War"


"I dun got racked with a branch; I wus thet skeered I just cudn't see
nuthin', seh."
"I understand. What is your name?"
"Asa Hall."
"Well, Asa, I suppose those were militiamen; you belonged to the
company?"
He nodded, his eyes dull, his lips moving, as though it was an effort
to talk. Quite evidently whatever little intellect he had ever
possessed, now refused to respond. Kennedy broke in impatiently.
"It takes thet boy 'bout an hour fer ter tell enything, Cap," he
explained gruffly. "I reckon he's skeered half ter death in the furst
place, an' then thar's sumthin' wrong with him enyhow. Maybe I kin
give ye the main pints. Them thar fellers belonged ter Cap. Hough's
company frum down Edwardsville way--greener then grass, most ov 'em.
They'd cum up frum sumwhar on the Illinoy, an' wus a headin' fer Dixon.
Never onct thought thar might be Injuns down yere, an' never kept no
guard. Them Injuns jumped 'em at daybreak, an' not a soul knew they
wus thar, till they yelled. 'Twan't no fight, just a massacre. This
feller he got away, just as he sed he did, by a hidin' in the bush. I
reckon he wan't even seed at all, but he wus so blame close thet he
heerd 'bout all thet went on, an' even seed a bit ov it. Lord! I hed
ter poke him out; he wus thet skeered he cudn't stand."
"Wal, I reckon yer'd a bin too," the boy stuttered angrily. "I ain't
never seed no Injuns afore."
"An' don't wanter ever see no more, I reckon.


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