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Updated: May 29, 2025
Granfather Fortner killed an Injun chief acrost the Maumee River at the battle of Fallen Timbers with a bullet thet Granmother hed run fur him an' markt with a little cross. Afore the battle begun Franfather tuck the bullet outen his pouch an' put hit inter his mouth, until he could git a chance ter use hit on big game. He brot the chief's scalp hum ter Granmother."
Kent Edwards, Abe Bolton, and two of the new comers would scout down toward London, to ascertain the truth of the rumor that Zollicoffer had evacuated the place, and retired to Laurel Bridge, nine miles south of it. Fortner and Harry Glen would take the wagon to Wildcat Gap, report what had been done, and explain to their commander the absence of the enlisted men.
"Poor fellows," said Rachel, "how they are suffering!" "Think ruther," said Aunt Debby calmly, "of how they've made others suffer. Hit's God's judgement on 'em." Rachel turned to Fortner. "What will come next? Will this end it? Will the Rebels fall back and leave this place?" "Hardly.
For a full minute the needles clicked industriously. Then they stopped; the long, slender fingers clenched themselves about the ball of yarn; she faced Fortner, her eyes shining with a less brilliant but intenser light. "Jim Fortner," she said with low, measured distinctness, "why don't ye go on? Is thar somethin' that ye'r afeered ter tell me? What hez hapened ter our folks?
"Go on," said Rachel, resisting her eagerness to overwhelm him with questions concerning the one man of all the world she most desired to learn about. "I can spare you but little time." "All right, Miss. Ter begin with, my name's not Brown. Nary a time. Hit's Fortner Jim Fortner the 'noted Scout, ez I heered ye readin' 'bout 'tother day, when ye war givin' the boys the war news in the papers.
A long train had also been sent out to the Goose Creek Salt Works twenty-five miles northeast of London to bring away a lot of salt stored there, of which the Rebels had even more need than of food. Fortner proposed to go out in the morning, and endeavor to capture some of these wagons.
Fortner looked up the road to his right and listened intently. A waterfall mumbled somewhere in the neighborhood. The pines and hemlocks near the summit sighed drearily. A gray fox, which had probably just supped off a pheasant, sat on a log and barked out his gluttonous satisfaction. A wildcat, as yet superless, screamed its envy from a cliff a half a mile away.
She began singing softly: "An' when a shadder falls acrost the winder Of my room, When I am workin' my app'inted task, I lift my head to watch the door an' ask If he is come; An' the angel answers sweetly In my home: 'Only a few more shadders An' He will come." "Aunt Debby, honey," said Fortner, rousing himself from a nap in his chair, "thet thar lead's burnin'. Better run yer bullets."
Fortner rose, spread a few blankets on the floor, added a sack of bran for a pillow, and with some difficulty induced the two sleepers to lie down and take their slumbers in a more natural position. "I'll find ye a gun," said Aunt Debby, as this operation was finished, and walking to a farther corner of the room, she came back bearing in her hand a rifle very similar to the one Fortner carried.
As they scurried along the opposite mountain-side Fortner and Harry fired at them, but without being able to tell whether their shots took effect. The pursuit was carried but a little distance. The wagon was secured and taken up the mountain.
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