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the spring, and near it, on the top of
a stump, lay a conch-shell, which had
been used in place of a horn to call Mr.
Hart to his meals. It was now used,
by a variation of notes, to let him, and
the neighbors who were with him in the
swamp, know when the British and
Tories were about, or when they might
come in with safety.
While Nancy was cooking the tur
key, she sent her daughter Sukey to
the spring for water, with instructions
to blow the conch in such a way as to
let him and his neighbors know that
there were Tories in the cabin, and he
must keep close until he heard the
conch again.
The Tories had become quite jovial
over their whiskey, and sat down to
feast on the turkey in gay good humor.
Their guns were stacked near by, in
plain view, and Nancy, in her atten
tions to her guests, frequently passed
between them and their muskets. Wa
ter was wanted, and Sukey was again
despatched to the spring, with instruc
tions to blow on the conch so as to
call Mr. Hart and his neighbors to the
house at once. Meanwhile, Nancy had
quiety removed one of the pieces of
wood with which the cracks between
the logs were stopped, and had put two
of the musket3 through it out of the
house. While in the act of putting out
the third, she was discovered, and the
Tories sprang to their feet. Instantly,
she brought the piece she held to her
shoulder, and declared she would kill
the first man that moved out of his
tracks. The Tories were terrified, for,
as we have said, Nancy was cross-eyed,
and each one imagined that her aim
was at him. At length, one of them
made a step forward, and she, true to
her threat, fired and he fell dead.
Instantly seizing another musket, she
brought it to bear on the remaining
four. By this time, Sukey had re
turned from the spring, and taking the
remaining musket, she carried it out of
the door, saying to her mother:
“Daddy and them will soon be here.”
This increased the terror of the To
ries, who saw the necessity of imme
diate escape, but each supposed that
Nancy was aiming at him, and so they
undertook a general rush. Again Nan
cy fired, and another Tory fell badly
wounded. Sukey handed her another
musket, which she took, and getting
in the doorway, called on them to “ sur
render their Tory carcasses to a Whig
woman,” which they did.
In a few minutes, Mr. Hart and his
neighbors came up to the door, and
were about to shoot the three remain
ing Tories, but Nancy stopped them,
saying that they had surrendered to
her, and that “ shooting was too good
for them.” This hint was enough—
“ The dead man was dragged out of
the house, the wounded Tory and the
others were bound, and taken out be
the bars and hung. The tree on which
they were hung was pointed out in
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
1838, by one who lived in those bloody
times, and who also showed the spot
once occupied by Mrs. Hart’s cabin.”
There are other anecdotes of this
brave woman that I might tell you of,
but this is quite enough for the present.
Some persons have doubted the truth
of the story I have related, but there
seems to be no reason to do so. The
Rev. Dr. White, author of the “Histo
rical Collections of Georgia,” saw per
sons in Elbert county, as late as 1853,
who knew Nancy Hart well, and veri
fied this and other incidents related of
her.
* * *
*
*
THE MIDNIGHT CROSS.
IN IDYLS.
“ Our Left.”
To Joseph E. Johnson,
Manassas.
' dawn to dark, they stood
That long Midsummer’s day!—
While fierce and fast the battle
¥ blast
Swept rank on rank away!
From dawn to dark they fought—
With legions swept and cleft
And still the wide, black battle-tide
Poured doadlier on our Left!
They closed each ghastly gap!—
They dressed each shattered rank !
They knew, how well!—that Freedom fell
With that exhausted flank !
“ Oh ! for a thousand men!
Like those who molt away ! ”
And down they came, with steel and flame
Four thousand to the fray !
They leapt the laggard train—
The panting steam might stay!—
And down they came, with steel and flame
Four thousand, to the fray I
Right through the blackest cloud
Their lightning path they cleft,
And triumph came with deathless flame
To our unconquered Left.
Ye, of your sons secure!
Yh of your dead bereft!
Honor the Brave 1 who died to save
Your all, upon our Left!
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
THE YOUNG- EXPLORERS;
OR, BOY-LIFE IN TEXAS.
BY JOHN C. DUVAL,
Author of “ Jack Dobell ; or, A Boy's Ad
ventures in Texas," “ The Adventures
of Big-Foot Wallace," etc
CHAPTER XII.
Cudjo's Dreams Disturbed by a Chunk of Fire
—ln the 'Wilderness — Uses of the Cactus, or
Prickly Pear —Fresh Indian Signs —En
campment on the Rio Hondo Adventure
with a Mexican Lion.
mp. _
N saying that we all got a good
a g°° d night’s rest, I made a
slight mistake; for I ought to
have excepted Cudjo, who, going to
sleep as usual with his head to the fire,
a chunk rolled down against it, and
burnt his cranium so badly, that he de
clared he never closed his eyes again
from that time till daylight. Henry told
him that it served him right for sleep
ing with his head to the fire instead of
his feet; but this had no effect upon
Cudjo, who still persisted in baking his
brains whenever he turned in for the
night. Willie suggested that probably
the negro’s “wool” had originally been
caused by this peculiar habit of the
race —their hair thereby being kept as it
were continually in a singed or crisped
condition —which is at least as rational
a way of accounting for it as the “ cli
matic theory.”
All hands were as usual roused up at
daylight the next morning, and as soon
as breakfast was dispatched, we saddled
up and turned our faces once more to
the “Far West.” Crossing the river at
the ford just opposite the town, and
passing through the business port|gj|jH ;
the embryo city—comprising oriaPH*;.‘i
eery and a blacksmith’s shop, and tmH|
the suburbs—consisting of an adobe hu*
and a “ cup-pen,”* we struck out
into the uninhabited wilderness lying
beyond. The country we passed over
was somewhat different from that we
had hitherto seen —not quite so rolling,
and more thickly covered with chapar
ral, much of which looked as if it would
have been impassable without a road,
on account of the vast numbers of the
prickly pear, or cactus, which in some
places seemed to be the principal growth.
But, although they are a very ungainly
looking vegetable production, and very
ugly customers to foregather with, es
pecially in the dark, these prickly pears
are not without some redeeming quali
ties. Their broad pulpy leaves, when
singed over a blazing fire, so as to de
prive them of their prickles and tlmrns,
are most excellent and nutritous food
for stock ; and as they contain a large
quantity of sap or juice, animals, when
fed upon them, can travel for days wiHfcs.
out suffering from the want of
which renders them invaluable asIFS
article of forage to the emigrant trains
traversing the great American desert.
The cactus bears also an oblong scar
let fruit, which has a very enticing ap
pearance, but which is said by old fron
tiersmen to he very unwholesome; at
least they never venture to eat it, except
when sorely pressed by hunger, and then
very sparingly. I have heard of several
well authenticated instances in which
death has resulted in a few hours from
eating freely of this fruit. My own im
pression is, that if they are carefully
freed from the countless minute prick
les with which they are covered, they
can be eaten with impunity, as I do not
believe there is any poisonous principle
in the fruit itself. It is a singular fact,
however, that the thorns of the cactus
do not inflame or irritate the flesh, and
that they often penetrate the most vital
* Cow-pen.
parts of animals, without apparently
causing them the least inconvenience.
I have often seen beeves killed, in the
Rio Grande country (where they are
often fed solely upon the leaves [of the
cactus), which were as healthy and as
fat as the “ stalled ox,” although innu
merable cactus thorns were found im
bedded in their lungs, liver, and other
vital portions of their bodies.
To-day, we passed a considerable fresh
trail, crossing the one we were travel
ling nearly at right angles, which we
followed lialf-a-mile or so, in order to
ascertain whether it had been made by
Indians or mustangs. Uncle Seth ex
amined the sign closely, without appar
ently satisfying himself thoroughly as
to its character, until he came to a low
branching live-oak, that grew directly
on the route. Here he called our at
tention to the fact that the trail diverged
around the limb3 of this tree, which, he
|^id t settled the question as to whether
fßad been made by Indians on horse-
UP'jibr by a drove of mustangs.
” *rYou see, boys,” said he, “I was
purty sure from the jump it was Ingen
sign, for the trail didn’t scatter enough
for mustangs; but I’m certain of it
now, for the tracks, you see, all go
around that tree. If they was mus
tangs that made ’em, some would have
gone under ’em; for you see the limbs
are plenty high enough for a horse to
go under if he hadn’t a man on his
back. There’s about twenty-five of’em
in the crowd,” continued Uncle Seth,
after closely examining the tracks again
in a soft piece of ground, where they all
showed plainly, “ and they’ve got three
pack animals along with ’em.”
“Why, Uncle Seth,” asked Henry,
“ how in the world can you tell that?”
“Easy enough,” said Uncle Seth;
“Look at them tracks there; don’t you
see that they don’t sink down as deep
as the others; and they’s’either made
by a led horse or a pack animal with a
light load on him ; and there’s three
different tracks of the same sort. The
Itrail is about a day old, and by to-mor
row night the rascals will rake down
some of the settlements below us, as
sure as my name’s Seth. We must keep
our eyes skinned now,” he continued,
“for there’s no telling how soon we
may fall in with a party of the red
devils ourselves.”
Returning to the trail we had left, we
pursued our route without halting, until
we came to a small stream, called by
the Mexicans, Rio Hondo, where we
stopped, and pitched our tent under
the shelter of a clump of live-oaks, that
grew a short distance from the creek.
As the sun was still several hours high,
after stationing Mr. Pitt on the most
elevated ground iu the vicinity as a
look-out, Uncle Seth detailed me to go
down the creek to kill a buck for sup
per, whilst he went up it to hunt for
bee-trees, which he said abounded in
that part of the country. The rest of
the party had strict orders not to move