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Updated: June 25, 2025
Bessie Hedden was a merry-hearted creature, and so pretty that, had she been an Indian maiden, she would have been known as "Wild Rose," or "Singing Bird," or "Water Lily," or some such name. As it was, many of the villagers called her "Little Sunshine," for her joyous spirit could light up the darkest corner.
Only in the comparatively crowded settlements, where strength was in numbers, could the white inhabitants hope for security though bought at the price of constant vigilance and precaution. In one of these settlements, where a few neatly whitewashed cabins, and rougher log huts, clustered on the banks of a bend in the Ohio River, dwelt a man named Hedden, with his wife and three children.
Laughing, crying, clasping her dear Kitty frantically to her heart, then gazing at her at arms' length, Mrs. Hedden raised her eyes to the Indian, and gasped faintly "Rudolph? the boy is he " She could say no more. "Yes boy all good," answered Po-no-kah, eagerly, "white man say break heart see two he here." Just then Farmer Hedden, Tom Hennessy, and Rudolph rushed in. Oh, what a meeting that was!
If Bouncer only could be found; and, for almost the first time in years, Hedden called, "Bouncer! Bouncer!" without seeing the great fellow leaping toward him. What wonder, though even Bouncer could scarcely have recognized that voice now! "Hark!" cried one of the neighbors. They listened. There was certainly a panting sound from some spot not far away. "Bouncer! Bouncer!" cried the poor father.
Piers Plowman. I don't know about travellers' "hedden leve" to lie, but that they "taken leve" no one can doubt who has ever followed their wandering footsteps. They say the most charming and audacious things, in blessed indifference to the fact that somebody may possibly believe them.
"Oh! husband," rejoined Mrs. Hedden, looking up anxiously, "do you think it's safe?" "Why not, Betsey? the scow doesn't leak; and even if it did, the water isn't above Tom's waist anywhere." "I don't mean anything of that kind," pursued the wife, smiling in spite of herself at the joyful faces of the young folks. "I I mean the Indians."
"Now, father," returned Bessie, pouting just a little, "you know we don't believe that. We want you so much to take us in the boat; it doesn't leak at all now oh! do." And both children fairly capered in their excitement. Mr. Hedden smiled; but; after wiping his forehead with a red and yellow handkerchief, went on thoughtfully with his work without returning any answer.
With these last words, uttered half aloud, neighbor Hedden arose, and walked a few steps in the direction of his home. Presently he paused again, muttering to himself "It's blamed queer I haven't heard the youngsters coming down with the scow; I certainly should have heard them if they'd passed anywhere near guess I'd best walk on a little way up stream."
"Oh, Joe!" screamed the poor woman, "have you found them? tell me, quick!" "Well no, Mrs. Hedden," he shouted in reply, "not exactly that but we've got the gal safe an' sound not a scratch on her." In another moment Bessie was in her mother's arms. "Only me, mother!" she sobbed; "only me; but father's looking for them and, oh! mother, Bouncer is dead!" The next day brought no better tidings.
The children, looking wistfully at him a moment, turned toward the house, wondering among themselves, "what father meant to do about it." Hedden asked his wife whether Tom Hennessy was back from "up river" yet? "I think he came home yesterday," returned his wife. "Why do you ask?" "Because I thought, as to-morrow'll be a holiday, I'd get him to take the youngsters down the stream in the scow."
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