United States or South Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
That night's ride up the pass through the narrow range of high-peaked hills to the Tomahawk's farthest range on Big Creek was a tedious affair to Buddy. A man had been sent on a fast horse to warn the nearest neighbor, who in turn would warn the next, until no settler would be left in ignorance of his danger.
He had not meant to make a scene like this; it was the gunmen who had forced it, putting his life in danger. It was the very devil, being chased about at night and shot at! He had lost his nerve, really; he had forgot what little manners he had been able to keep as a miner's buddy. He had made a spectacle of himself; good Lord yes, he realised how he must seem!
"Did you hear how I mussed up Fanchon Smith's party?" "You bet I did. That's one reason I want to see some of this dancing. Will you go?" "Yes, I can stand it if you can." "All right, Buddy, I'll meet you at the inn eight o'clock." Lane slowly made his way to a secluded corner of the lobby, where he sat down. Red Payson dead! Lane felt that he should not have been surprised or shocked.
The Indians, so far as he could determine, were all asleep in the cellar. And Buddy, setting his teeth hard together, began to slide slowly backward toward the opening through which he had crawled into the roof. When he had crawled in he had not noticed the springiness of the poles, but now his imagination tormented him with the sensation of sagging and swaying.
At first this seemed an unlucky circumstance, for the Indians came down into the dugout for shelter, and now Buddy was afraid to breathe in the quiet intervals between the gusts.
Pinckney faithfully through the war and long afterward. Young Dave, or "Buddy," son of big Dave, although only in his early teens, was her chief aid. When the war was over and Mr. Pinckney walked out of Fort Taylor a free man, the portly Hannah "pooh-poohed" the announcement that she was a free citizen. "Y'all done brung me heah," she blustered with emphasis, "an' heah I'se gwine t' stay."
But he kept on gnawing and eating away, so fine did it taste, until, in a little while if he hadn't eaten a hole right into the cabbage and he found himself inside, just like the mousie in the loaf of bread! "Ha! This is very fine, indeed!" cried Buddy Pigg.
There's no stranger ever gets across this bridge without stopping and looking over. They call it the Lazy Brig. The old folk say it's because there's a fairy sitting by the burn, a gossiping buddy who casts a spell on strangers so that he can have a good look at them and talk about them afterwards to the other fairies."
After another ineffectual shot at Buddy, he whipped his horse down the ridge, and made for Bannock creek. Buddy at thirteen knew more of the wiles of Indians than does the hardiest Indian fighter on the screen to-day. Father had warned him never to chase an Indian into cover, where others would probably be waiting for him.
First one and two-then there would be three, four, five, as many as Buddy could count-then the whole herd would be lying down. Buddy loved the camp-fires. The cowboys would sit around the one where his father and mother sat mother with Dulcie in her arms and they would smoke and tell stories, until mother told him it was time little boys were in bed.
Word Of The Day