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THE CAVE BY THE BEECH FORK
A Story of Kentucky--1815
BY HENRY S. SPALDING, S.J.
New York, Cincinnati, Chicago
BENZIGER BROTHERS
Printers to the Holy Apostolic See
1901
[Illustration: "HE DREW HIS REVOLVERS AND STEPPED QUICKLY TOWARD THE TWO
MEN."]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. A Day's Hunt Along the Beech Fork
CHAPTER II. Owen and Martin Visit the Cave
CHAPTER III. In Which Owen and Martin Learn More About the Wonderful
Cave
CHAPTER IV. The Howards
CHAPTER V. Owen and Martin Meet Old Friends, and Owen Shows How He Can
Use a Rifle
CHAPTER VI. A Visit from Father Byrne
CHAPTER VII. Mr. Howard Is Surprised by a Visitor--Owen Hears of the
Great Shooting-Match
CHAPTER VIII. Happy Days
CHAPTER IX. The Practice
CHAPTER X. The Eventful Day
CHAPTER XI. David and Goliath
CHAPTER XII. Killing Goliath With His Own Sword
CHAPTER XIII. Bertha Hears the News of Victory
CHAPTER XIV. Brother and Sister
CHAPTER XV. Around the Fireplace
CHAPTER XVI. On the Trail of the Runaway Slave
CHAPTER XVII. Carrying the News
CHAPTER XVIII. Saving the Message
CHAPTER XIX. The Tinker Disturbs the Inmates of the Cave
CHAPTER XX. A Day's Sport Along the Beech Fork
CHAPTER XXI. Mr. Lane Has a Difficulty
CHAPTER XXII. Mr. Lane Finds a Solution to His Difficulty
CHAPTER XXIII. The Mark on Stayford's Pistol
CHAPTER XXIV. Tom the Tinker
CHAPTER XXV. Off to the Cave
CHAPTER XXVI. Sealed Forever
The Cave by the Beech Fork.
CHAPTER I.
A DAY'S HUNT ALONG THE BEECH FORK.
"No wonder this river is called the Beech Fork," said Owen, as he rested
his trusty rifle by his side and pointed toward the thickly-clustered
beech-trees, which skirted the banks of a small stream.
"See, too, how close they are to the water's edge; they have taken the
place of the sycamore and willow," said his companion, Martin Cooper, at
the same time seating himself upon the trunk of a fallen tree and
looking in the direction indicated.
"But do you notice anything peculiar about those beech-trees?" asked
Owen.
"Yes; they have long, slender branches."
"And the leaves--see how green they are, while the others are beginning
to fade."
Beautiful, indeed, was the scene before them! The myriad leaves of the
underbrush and the lofty canopies of the trees were dyed with all the
varied colors of an autumn day. Even the thistle, when sheltered by some
impending bough, retained its rose-pink bloom. Patches of sumac nestling
close to the ledge of rocks, where larger growth could not survive for
want of moisture, raised their cones of crimson berries; the sour-gum
was laden with clusters of purple fruit as tempting to the eye as the
most delicious grapes; the hickories were conspicuous by their russet
foliage; the deep-lobed leaves of the white-oak were burning with fiery
red; the ash-trees, scattered here and there, were robed in garments of
purest saffron: only the beech-trees remained unchanged by the autumn
frosts, for their small, serrate leaves were as green and glossy as
during the summer months. Beech, beech, beech; who could number them?
Here nature seemed to have prepared for them a paradise. Other trees
grew there only to bring out by contrast the boundless, unbroken forest
of beech-trees.
"The old forest is a fine place during this month," said Martin. "Still,
I prefer not to spend the night here. Let us start home, for it is
getting late."
"I should like to have at least one shot at a turkey before we go,"
replied Owen. "Say, Frisk," he continued, addressing a bird-dog which
was enjoying a good rest at the side of his master, "old fellow, can't
you find a turkey for us? Why don't you work as Bounce does? Hear how he
is barking and chasing that rabbit."
He had scarcely uttered these words when both boys were startled by a
sudden noise. The leaves rustled, the underbrush of the woods separated
and a large deer bounded past them. Each sprang for his rifle but it was
too late; before either could fire, the coveted prize disappeared behind
a ledge of rocks.
As they stood there, rifle in hand, they were, in dress at least,
perfect types of western huntsmen, though neither had seen his sixteenth
year. Owen Howard's entire outfit was in harmony with the wild and
rugged scenes around him. His gray trousers made of coarse home-spun
cloth, his deer-skin hunting jacket, his fox-skin cap and sturdy
moccasins, all bespoke a life far removed from the busy scenes and
worldly comforts of town or city. He had a bright, piercing eye, a
countenance frank and winning, a voice as clear and musical as the call
of the meadow-lark. He was as nimble as a squirrel. There was about his
whole person an air of singular freedom, and every part of his
well-shaped frame was perfectly developed by continued though not
overtasking labor.
The friend who stood beside him was dressed in the same unique hunter's
costume. He appeared less active, but more robust than his companion.
His face was ruddy, round, and freckled; his long, unkempt hair fell in
reddish clusters from beneath his hunting cap. A look of thoughtful
earnestness was stamped upon his features as he stood and gazed at the
place where the deer had disappeared.
"Probably it'll cross Rapier's Ford," said Owen, recovering from his
surprise. "It has been a favorite crossing for them of late. There's no
harm in trying. I would walk a week for a shot at that fellow."
"All right. Let us hurry on fast," said Martin.
So the two pushed on at a brisk rate toward the ford about a mile below.
They posted themselves so as to cover the narrow path which approached
the river, and waited in true huntsman-like silence. An hour passed, and
no sound of the faithful dog could be heard. At last, far over the hills
his bark was faintly audible. Then the alarm became louder, and a slight
click of their rifles showed that the boys were preparing to give the
deer a warm welcome. If it was far ahead of the hound, as usually
happened, it might rush by them at any moment. Suddenly their attention
was drawn to a spot by the rustling of leaves, and peering from behind
the trees they saw a large turkey-gobbler, strutting along wholly
unconscious of the danger near at hand. What a fine mark it made as it
strolled deliberately by with its head erect and wings arched! Owen was
the first to see it and raised his rifle to fire; but as Martin signed
to him to wait he lowered his rifle and let the turkey pass by. Judging
from the barking of the dog, the deer was making for the ford. Owen felt
comforted for the loss of the turkey, for if the deer passed between
them one or the other would certainly bring it down.
"How I would like to wring the neck off that turkey!" muttered Martin to
himself, for the gobbler persisted in remaining within rifle-shot,
scratching among the dry leaves, and making as much noise as a whole
flock of turkeys.
The boys were disappointed in their expectations, for the deer changed
its course, and again left the river. Another hour passed, and the deep
shades of the forest cast a gloom on all around.
"Helloo, there, Owen!" shouted Martin, emerging from his place of
concealment, and stretching his cramped limbs. No answer came, so he
called again in a still louder voice: "Helloo, there, Owen! Wake up, and
let us move; it's getting dark."
Still no answer came.
"Owen! Owen!" he called, walking toward the place where his companion
had waited. Not finding him, Martin took the horn which hung at his side
and was about to raise it to his mouth, when he heard the report of
Owen's rifle. The latter had given up all hope of killing the deer, and
had crept cautiously away in quest of the gobbler. He had just caught
sight of it in the thick underbrush, but the woods were now so dark that
his aim was not true.
"We are in a pretty plight," said Owen as Martin approached. "Hunting
all day, and nothing to show for our work but a few squirrels."
"Yes!" assented Martin. "And it's seven miles home--dark, too; in half
an hour we won't be able to see ten steps ahead. We stayed at the ford
too long; there is no going home to-night, and that is all about it.
Why, an Indian would get lost a night like this. We must stay here; it
won't be the first night we have slept on the banks of the Beech Fork."
"That's all right for the summer," argued Owen. "But remember that it's
October now, and the nights are frosty."
"What's to be done?" asked Martin, glancing anxiously around the dark
forest.
"I really don't know. But I do know one thing: I am tired and hungry."
"Let us stay here. We won't starve. We'll have the squirrels for
supper."
"Then we'll stay. Squirrels for supper, a soft bed of leaves, and a fire
to drive away the frost. What else does a fellow want?"
"I'll bring Bounce to the camp," said Martin, blowing a loud blast on
his horn.
A deep bark answered the echoes, and soon the faithful dog stood panting
at the side of the young huntsmen.
"Why didn't you bring the deer this way, old fellow?" asked Owen.
Bounce shook his head, as if to say that he did his best, but could not
succeed.
"Well, come on. You've worked hard, and shall have a good supper," said
Martin, as the two boys set to work to prepare for the evening meal.
A large pile of wood was collected, and a fire was started against the
trunk of a beech, which stretched its thick branches on all sides,
forming a natural tent. Martin constructed two cups with the leaves of a
paw-paw-tree, and filled them with clear water from a brook near at
hand. Owen had the squirrels dressed in a jiffy. One was suspended over
the fire by a green twig, while the other was wrapped in damp paper and
placed under the live coals to roast. Thus, two different dishes were
prepared from the same meat. They had also some dry bread left from
their luncheon. Uninviting as their repast may seem to some, to them it
was more savory than the most tempting viands, having, as it did, the
true Spartan seasoning. Bounce and Frisk were not forgotten. They shared
in the day's spoil, and gnawed at the bones until far into the night.
Owen and Martin now collected a large heap of leaves before the fire,
and placed their rifles near by in readiness to receive any wildcat
which chanced to be attracted by the light.
Their last and most important duty was that which every Christian
performs before retiring to rest. Our young friends had pious parents;
they had lived in an atmosphere of simple but deep faith, and would have
considered it almost a crime to neglect their morning or evening
prayers. There, then, they prayed; at night, and in the stillness of a
forest, where giant trees stretched out their branches like the arches
of some great cathedral, and where all around was hushed in holy
silence.
"I do believe it's going to rain," said Martin, catching a glimpse of
the clouds through a rift in the trees as he lay down upon his rustic
bed.
"Why didn't I think of it before? I--I don't see how I forgot it--I
intended to tell you about it--and it is not a mile away," muttered Owen
in a half audible tone.
"What are you saying? Are you dreaming?" asked Martin.
"I was talking about a cave which I found last month when chasing a
'coon--a big one, too."
"What, the 'coon?"
"No! the cave. If it rains to-night I'll take you there. It's better
than a log-house."
"Perhaps it is the one that Mr. Rapier told me about the other day,"
said Martin. "It's in this neighborhood, but no one knows the exact
spot. Long ago, even before Daniel Boone came to Kentucky, the Indians
used to live in it during the hunting season."
"Are there two large rocks before it?" inquired Owen, raising himself up
to a sitting posture and staring at Martin with evident interest.
"Let me see; I believe he said something about two rocks. Now I
recollect; there were two large rocks, one on each side."
"That's the place; and if the rain doesn't drive us there to-night,
we'll see it to-morrow morning."
Owen then lay down again, and was soon fast asleep, dreaming that he
discovered an immense cave, whose entrance was guarded by two dogs as
large as the two rocks which he had seen. His dream was scarcely more
wonderful than the wonders which that cave really contained.