Wild Western Scenes | Page 3

switches of cotton-wood that grew thereon,
than in the midst of the tall trees of the forest, where a heavy branch
was every now and then torn off by the wind, and thrown to the earth
with a terrible crash. Occasionally a deafening explosion of thunder
would burst overhead; and Joe, prostrating himself on the neck of his
horse, would, with his eyes closed and his teeth set, bear it out in
silence. He spoke not, save to give an occasional word of command to

his team, or a brief reply to a question from his master.
It was an odd spectacle to see such a vehicle trudging along at such an
hour, where no carriage had ever passed before. The two young men
were odd characters; the horses were oddly matched, one being a little
dumpy black pony, and the other a noble white steed; and it was an odd
whim which induced Glenn to abandon his comfortable home in
Philadelphia, and traverse such inclement wilds. But love can play the
"_wild_" with any young man. Yet we will not spoil our narrative by
introducing any of it here. Nor could it have been love that induced Joe
to share his master's freaks; but rather a rare penchant for the
miraculous adventures to be enjoyed in the western wilderness, and the
gold which his master often showered upon him with a reckless hand.
Joe's forefathers were from the Isle of Erin, and although he had lost
the brogue, he still retained some of their superstitions.
The wind continued to blow, the wolves howled, the lightning flashed,
and the thunder rolled. Ere long the little black pony snorted aloud and
paused abruptly.
"What ails you, Pete?" said Joe from his lofty position on the steed,
addressing his favourite little pet. "Get along," he continued, striking
the animal gently with his whip. But Pete was as immovable and
unconscious of the lash as would have been a stone. And the steed
seemed likewise to be infected with the pony's stubbornness, after the
wagon was brought to a pause.
"Why have you stopped, Joe?" inquired Glen.
"I don't hardly know, sir; but the stupid horses won't budge an inch
farther!"
"Very well; we can remain here till morning. Take the harness off, and
give them the corn in the box; we can sleep in the wagon till daylight."
"But we have no food for ourselves, sir; and I'm vastly hungry. It can't
be much farther to the ferry," continued Joe, vexed at the conduct of the
horses.

"Very well; do as you like; drive on, if you desire to do so," said Glenn.
"Get along, you stupid creatures!" cried Joe, applying the lash with
some violence. But the horses regarded him no more than blocks would
have done. Immediately in front he perceived a dark object that
resembled a stump and turning the horses slightly to one side,
endeavoured to urge them past it. Still they would not go, but continued
to regard the object mentioned with dread, which was manifested by
sundry restless pawings and unaccustomed snorts. Joe resolved to
ascertain the cause of their alarm, and springing to the ground, moved
cautiously in the direction of the dark obstruction, which still seemed to
be a blackened stump, about his own height, and a very trifling obstacle,
in his opinion, to arrest the progress of his redoubtable team. The
darkness was intense, yet he managed to keep his eyes on the dim
outlines of the object as he stealthily approached And he stepped as
noiselessly as possible, notwithstanding he meditated an encounter with
nothing more than an inanimate object. But his imagination was always
on the alert, and as he often feared dangers that arose undefinable and
indescribable in his mind, it was not without some trepidation that he
had separated himself from the horses and groped his way toward the
object that had so much terrified his pony. He paused within a few feet
of the object, and waited for the next flash of lightning to scrutinize the
thing more closely before putting his hand upon it. But no flash came,
and he grew tired of standing. He stooped down, so as to bring the
upper portion of it in a line with the sky beyond, but still he could not
make it out. He ventured still nearer, and stared at it long and steadily,
but to no avail: the black mass only was before him, seemingly
inanimate, and of a deeper hue than the darkness around.
"I've a notion to try my whip on you," said he, thinking if it should be a
human being it would doubtless make a movement. He started back
with a momentary conviction that he heard a rush creak under its feet.
But as it still