BY CAPT. CHAS. HOWARD,
AUTHOR OF THE FOLLOWING POCKET NOVELS:
NEW YORK:
BEADLE AND ADAMS PUBLISHERS,
98 WILLIAM STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
FRANK STARR & CO.,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
STRICKEN OVER THE DEAD.
It was evening among the stately cottonwoods and poplarsthat lined the banks of the Maumee, and the dying day anAugust one in the year 1794.
A stag approached the historic stream to quench his thirst.
The proud king of the Ohio wood walked with antleredhead erect; but his cautious tread denoted that he suspectedthe proximity of hidden foes. His eyes swept the wood onhis left and right, and the opposite bank of the stream underwenta close scrutiny as he advanced.
Quite unmolested he reached the limpid water, and bathedhis nozzle therein with manifest delight. It was a halcyonmoment for his stagship.
But suddenly a puff of smoke shot above the clumps ofwild pansies on the opposite bank, the whip-like crack of arifle followed, and with an almost human cry the stag staggeredfrom the water’s edge, quivered like a stricken vessel,then sunk upon the verdant earth, the red tide of life flowingfrom a wound over his heart.
The fatal shot was followed by the spring of an Indianfrom the perfumed pansies, and a moment later he was swimmingtoward his prey. He breasted the current with thestrength of a strong man, for he had nothing to incumberhim, having left his empty rifle among the flowers.
He soon gained the stricken deer over which he stooped,and drove the scalping-knife into the delicate throat. Astream of warm blood that made the Indian’s hands redder thanNature’s coloring, followed the withdrawal of the crimson blade,and the brave rose to his feet with a grunt of satisfaction.
Simultaneously with his rising, the quick sharp yelp of ayoung she-wolf rent the dense atmosphere, and caused theIndian to spring from his prey toward the nearest cottonwood.
He never reached the sheltering tree.
The report of a rifle scarce louder than the bursting of apercussion-cap, smote the air; the slayer of the stag haltedin his tracks, threw his hands to his heart, retraced his stepswith the reeling of a drunken man, and fell with a groan ove