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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"A Romance of the Black Hawk War"

Those fellows are more dangerous than
the Indians themselves--more savage, and revengeful. If Black Hawk,
and this other fellow are leading this band, they are after big game
somewhere, and we had better keep out of their way. I favor saddling
up immediately, and traveling all night."
"So do I," and Tim flung a half-filled bag from his shoulder to the
ground. "But I vote we eat furst. 'Tain't much, only a few scraps I
found out thar; but it's a way better then nuthin'. Here you, Hall,
give me a hand, an' then we'll go out, an' round up them hosses."
If the party of raiding Indians, whose foul deed we had discovered, had
departed in a southerly direction, as their trail would plainly seem to
indicate, then our safest course would seemingly be directed eastward
up the valley. This would give us the protection of the bluffs, and
take us more and more out of the territory they would be likely to
cover. All this I explained to Eloise as we struggled with the hard
bread, and a few strips of smoked bacon. Most of the bag had held corn
meal, but no one suggested a fire, as we were glad enough to possess
anything which would still the pangs of hunger. Eloise, filled with
sympathy, attempted to converse with Hall, who ate as though
half-starved, using hands and teeth like a young animal, but the boy
was so embarrassed, and stuttered so terribly, as to make the effort
useless. Within twenty minutes we were in saddle, descending the steep
hillside through the darkness, Tim walking ahead with the lad, his
horse trailing behind, and the long rifle across his shoulder.


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