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[Illustration: _Front._ ZAC WINS THE PIG-RACE.--P. 57]

UNCLE JOE'S STORIES

by

THE RIGHT HON. E. H. KNATCHBULL-HUGESSEN, M.P.

With Illustrations by Ernest Griset

London

George Routledge and Sons

Broadway, Ludgate Hill

New York: 416 Broome Street

1879

CONTENTS.

PAGE

UNCLE JOE 1

ZAC'S BRIDE 40

EVELYN WITH THE FAIRIES 106

CAT AND DOG 183

OPHELIA 223

THE CRONES OF MERSHAM 285

TO ALL NAUGHTY CHILDREN

(IF THERE BE ANY SUCH LEFT IN ENGLAND)

This Book

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.

MY DEAR CHILDREN--

Yes--you are "dear," and will be very "dear" to your parents and

friends if you continue to be naughty. I dedicate this little book to

you because I have been told (though it is scarcely possible to believe

it) that I was once a naughty child myself. If it be true, it was a

_very_ long time ago; and then there were not nearly so many pretty

"children's books" as there are now, so I had not the same chance as

you have of knowing how much best it is to be good. As soon as I found

this out, I began to be good directly, and now I advise you all to do

the same.

Whilst you are thinking how to manage it, you cannot do better than

read a few stories about Fairies, Pigmies, Witches, and such-like

interesting creatures. In these stories you will find that the good

people always come out right at last, and the naughty people get into

the most disagreeable scrapes. Well, this is just the same with

creatures who are not Fairies nor Pigmies, nor anything of the sort. So

as soon as you have read these stories--or even before doing so if you

can--leave off being naughty and be good as fast as possible. By so

doing you will make everybody about you happy, will become more and

more happy yourselves, and will show that Fairy stories are really of

some use. In this case we must have another book next year, and

meanwhile I remain your affectionate friend,

E. H. KNATCHBULL-HUGESSEN.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

ZACK WINS THE PIG-RACE (_Zac's Bride_) 57

EVELYN MEETS THE FAIRIES (_Evelyn with the Fairies_) 122

THE CAT'S LAST MUSIC-LESSON (_Cat and Dog_) 212

END OF FAMCRAM (_Ophelia_) 280

MARY AND BILLY MEET THE CRONES (_The Crones of Mersham_) 305

SIMPLE STEENIE AND THE GRAY MAN ON THE STROLL (_The Crones

of Mersham_) 344

PREFACE.

I had almost made up my mind to write no more Fairy Tales, to let

sprites and elves alone for ever, and to refrain from any further

research into the dark and mysterious doings of warlocks and witches

in the olden time. But fate is stronger than the will of man, and I

am powerless to resist the influences brought to induce--nay, to

compel--me to alter my determination. It is not only that verbal and

written requests have come to me from many quarters which it is

difficult to resist; it is not only that I am tired of being asked when

my new book is coming out, and of being generally disbelieved when I

answer "never." There is a stronger influence still. Fairies and elves

have an extraordinary power which they exercise over those who have

once sought to pry into their mysteries. If once you have dealings with

such creatures, you can rarely, if ever, leave them. There is a

fatality which urges you on--an irresistible fascination in the subject

which brings you back to it again and again, and obliges you to recur

to it in spite of yourself. When I walk out in the woods, or ramble

through the fields alone, the objects which appear ordinary and

commonplace to people who have, unhappily for themselves, neglected to

study Fairy Lore, bear to me quite a different appearance. I see traces

of the little beings which are not visible to the careless, still less

to the unbelieving eye. I hear voices which are inaudible to the ear

of the incredulous; and even without this, Fancy--free, glorious

Fancy--clothes the grass, the flowers, the bushes, the trees, with a

beauty of her own, and peoples every fairy haunt with a spirit company.

Is it only Fancy? Ah! that is just what nobody knows. Only how could I

tell so many different stories if nobody told them to me first?

That is a question I should like people to put to themselves calmly and

quietly, and if they think, after full consideration, that some person

or persons must have told me these curious stories, I hope they will

come to the conclusion that I am only doing what is right and fair in

passing them on to other people, so that the world may know as much as

I do about the strange and wonderful beings to whom these stories

relate.

UNCLE JOE'S STORIES.

UNCLE JOE.

I do not think that I ever met so extraordinary a man as Uncle Joe in

all my life. We children were all very fond of him, because he had an

inexhaustible supply of stories, and those, too, of a kind which are

especially popular with children. He had exciting stories of almost

every sort: of thrilling adventures by land and sea, of captures by

pirates, hair-breadth escapes from Red Indians; fearful conflicts with

robbers; terrible struggles with wild animals; and strange encounters

with sea-serpents or similarly wonderful creatures. Then he knew an

immense deal about giants and dwarfs, witches and wizards, ogres and

vampires, and he also possessed no little insight into all that

concerned fairies and fairy-land. He could tell of the little sea fairy

that rode on the crest of the wave, basking pleasantly when the sun

shone down on a calm still ocean, and shrieking madly with frenzied

delight when the winds lashed the waves into fury, and carried her

forward on the great flakes of snow-like foam; of the fairy who looked

after some particular house or family, and always appeared to warn them

of danger just at the right moment, or to disclose a buried treasure,

exactly in time to save them from ruin; and of the happy little

woodland fairies, who are to be found in the deep glades and dark

ravines of the wild forest, and about whom such innumerable legends

have from time to time been written by some of those fortunate mortals

who have visited and been aided by them in time of sickness or danger,

and who have in gratitude chronicled their power.

Nothing delighted Uncle Joe so much as to tell one of his charming

stories to us, eager listeners as we always were. He liked to get one

child on each knee, and to have the others clustering round as near as

possible, and then he would start off and go on just for all the world

as if he was only reading from a book.

Looking back now, with the calmer judgment of riper years, I hardly

know which was most wonderful, the unlimited power of invention of

Uncle Joe, or the boundless credulity of us children. Because no man

could by any possibility have gone through half the wonderful

adventures of which he pretended to have been the hero, if he had lived

to twice the ordinary age of man, and kept on searching for adventures

all the time. Besides, it would have been five hundred to one against

his escaping every time, as Uncle Joe always did, "by the skin o' his

teeth."

Once he was tied to the stake, and just going to be scalped by the

Indians, when some miraculous thing (I forget what at this moment)

occurred to save him; once he was in the very coils of an enormous

snake, and was yet preserved; and at another time, he was actually

swallowed by a crocodile, (I am sure I don't know how he got down its

throat without a disabling nip from some of those teeth which I have

noticed in the mouths of stuffed crocodiles in museums,) and escaped by

means of employing his penknife in a manner too disagreeable to

describe. In short, there never was a man who, according to his own

account, had gone through such a series of remarkable adventures as

Uncle Joe, and I am therefore quite justified in pronouncing him to

have been a most extraordinary man.

I have never discovered what really was Uncle Joe's profession or

occupation. For anything I know, he may have been a soldier, a sailor,

or a horse-marine; though, for the matter of that, I have so little

conception of what may be the duties of persons engaged in the latter

profession, that I should dispute the claims of nobody who averred that

he had belonged to it. All I know is, that he wore a blue coat with

brass buttons, had a hooked nose and a bright eye, and only possessed

one arm; the other I solemnly declare I have heard him state, on

different occasions, to have been shot off in battle, lost in saving

life from a shipwreck, when it got jammed between two planks of the

sinking ship, and bitten off by a tiger, under circumstances the

details of which I do not happen to remember--it was gone, however,

anyhow, was that left-arm of Uncle Joe's, and its loss must have had

this great consolation, that it furnished a foundation upon which he

built many a romance, pleasing to himself, and interesting to his

listeners.

He had been a mighty traveller, had Uncle Joe. From Canada to the

farthest extremity of South America, from Constantinople to Hong-Kong,

from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Cape, all was familiar to him;

whilst, as to continental Europe, there seemed to be no hole or corner

which he had not explored. England was like his own house to him; that

is to say, he knew every county and town in one as well as he knew

every room in the other. In fact, to hear him talk on these subjects,

you never would for a moment have guessed that which was the real

truth, namely, that he had never been further from England than Paris,

and had been so particularly ill in crossing the channel that nothing

but the fear of the laughter of his friends, coupled with his total and

entire ignorance of the French language, prevented his settling in

France for the rest of his life, sooner than again undergo the ordeal

of that terrible passage.

Happily for us children, (for this occurred before we were at the age

of story-hearing, or indeed at any age at all,) he _did_ face the

channel once more, and never sought to tempt it again. But all this I

only learned many years after, and during the whole of the early

portion of my life, I (in common, I am sure, with the great majority of

his acquaintance) set Uncle Joe down as a man who had seen more of the

world than most living men, and knew more of the geography of foreign

lands, as well as of the customs and manners of their inhabitants, than

anyone whom I ordinarily met.

With all this sin, if sin it be, of exaggeration, (one wishes to use a

mild word in speaking of a relative,) Uncle Joe's virtues greatly

predominated over any defects which he may have possessed. He was

good-natured to a fault--forgiving beyond most men--tender-hearted--a

faithful friend--and full of sympathy for the woes and sorrows of

others. I believe he lost a large sum of money in early life by

becoming surety for some one whom he thought to be a friend, and who

turned out to be an arrant scoundrel. Anyhow, he was far from rich, and

was not one of those uncles who have always got a sovereign ready for a

nephew going to school, or for spending at the confectioner's, if he

comes to see a young relative during school-time. Still, Uncle Joe was

the most popular of all our relations so far as the public opinion of

the school-room was concerned, and every juvenile heart rejoiced when

we were told that he was coming to spend Christmas at our home.

Upon one occasion he was expected to arrive upon the day before

Christmas Eve, and we were all greatly delighted at the prospect. Fanny

and Kitty, my two eldest sisters, were looking forward with much

pleasure to the visits to the school-room which Uncle Joe always paid

about tea-time, not only on account of the stories we were sure to

hear, but because it was so very amusing to see the violent efforts

which Miss Crinkles, the governess, used to make in order to avoid

going into fits of laughter at some of our uncle's jokes, and the

entire--though only temporary--loss of dignity which followed her

inevitable failure to keep her countenance. Tom and Gerald and I (Harry

is my name, and I was about twelve at the time of this story) were

equally interested, and little Lucy and Mary were employed for several

days beforehand in putting on their dolls' best dresses, that they

might be in a fit state to receive this honoured relation.

Well, the day before Christmas Eve came--as it always comes every year,

if you only look out for it--and our hearts beat high with expectation

of Uncle Joe. But no Uncle Joe appeared at luncheon time (he often

turned up about that time) and when tea-time had arrived, the hoped-for

visit was not paid. Presently the dressing-bell rang, half-an-hour

before dinner, and still no Uncle Joe. Even my father began to fidget

now, and to wonder where the expected guest could be, and my mother

became positively uneasy. If there was one thing rather than another

about which our uncle was particular, it was the important point of

being in time for dinner. The reason he always gave for this

particularity was his sense of the unfairness to the cook which was

occasioned by unpunctuality. No cook, he said, could contend against

it, and you had no right to expect a good dinner unless you were ready

to eat it at the hour for which it had been ordered.

The knowledge of this opinion on the part of Uncle Joe, and of the

firmness--not to say obstinacy--with which he always maintained

it--increased the uneasiness of my parents as the dinner hour grew

nearer and nearer without his appearance, and when half-past seven

arrived, and still no Uncle Joe, matters were held to be so serious

that messengers were despatched in several directions to make inquiries

whether anything had been heard or seen of the expected visitor. It was

fortunate that this step was taken, because otherwise there exists a

violent probability that this story might never have been told, and we

children should have had to mourn over the loss of our favourite

relative.

Uncle Joe was found lying by the roadside, barely a mile from our gate,

at a spot where a path ran parallel with the road, but some twelve feet

above it. His head was bruised and his left-arm broken, and, when

found, he was insensible. There was snow on the ground: it had frozen

during the day, and, about seven o'clock, light flakes of snow had

begun to fall again, so that if my poor uncle had lain where he was

much longer, he would either have been covered with snow, or frozen,

and could in no case have come well out of the business. His story was,

that, finding that he was at the station, some five miles off, in good

time, he thought he would walk over to our house and have his

portmanteau sent for from thence.

Some two miles from home there stood (and still stands) a convenient

public-house by the road-side, bearing the respectable sign of "The

Duke's Head," a staring picture of the head and shoulders of a man,

displaying the prominent nose and distinctive features of the great

Duke of Wellington, swinging gaily in front of the said inn. I believe

it is a very old inn, and was originally named after the great Duke of

Marlborough, and if England ever has another "great" Duke, I do not

doubt that _his_ picture will replace the present one, and the sign

will do equally well for _him_.

At this hostelry, said Uncle Joe, he had pulled up to have a glass of

hot brandy-and-water to cheer him on his way, and remembered to have

observed several rough-looking characters hanging about the place at

the time. He journeyed on, and at the spot at which he was found had

been attacked by three foot-pads, whom he declared that he had resisted

stoutly, but a blow with a short stick delivered by one of them had

felled him to the earth with a broken arm, while he had been rendered

insensible by a similar blow upon the head. The robbers seemed to have

had some object other than that of mere plunder, for although Uncle Joe

declared that they had taken all his money but half-a-crown, which was

found in his waistcoat-pocket, yet it was so seldom that he had much

more cash about him, that no one imagined that the robbers' booty could

have been great, whilst they had left his big silver watch and chain

untouched, and also the large old-fashioned silver pencil-case, which

he always carried about with him. This he attributed to the

stubbornness of his resistance, which had made the thieves glad to get

away from the neighbourhood of so desperate a fellow as quickly as

possible.

They were never traced, and as the snow soon afterwards came on more

heavily, their footsteps could have been scarcely seen after the space

of a very short time, and no one could tell in which direction they had

fled. There were some people, indeed, who winked their eyes wickedly,

and laid their fore-finger waggishly against the side of their noses

whenever allusion was made to the attack upon Uncle Joe. They were

unkind enough to declare that our good relative's story was true enough

up to the time of his stopping at the "Duke's Head," but that at that

point he had quitted the limits of strict veracity. They pretended to

have the authority of the landlord of that highly respectable inn for

the fact, that Uncle Joe, soon after six o'clock, came in and had, not

one glass, but three good "stiff" tumblers of brandy-and-water before

resuming his journey. They further maintained that he had gone on

merrily for a while after this, but that it had had sufficient effect

upon him to have rendered it very desirable that he should have kept in

the road instead of following the pathway above it. Choosing the

latter, however, he had lost his equilibrium at the spot near which he

was found, tumbled down the steep bank into the road, and in this

manner received the injuries to head and arm which he had undoubtedly

sustained. The landlord, moreover, said these unbelievers, indignantly

denied that any "rough-looking characters" had been near his house upon

that day, and declared that the only people there at or about the time

of Uncle Joe's visit were some Christmas ringers and singers preparing

for, or proceeding with, their visits to the neighbouring villages,

with the view of exchanging carols and hymns for pence and half-pence

wherever they found Christian people ready for such a transaction.

These reports and doubts, however, about Uncle Joe's misfortune never

reached us children at the time, and, if they had, we should not for a

moment have attached the smallest weight to them. In our eyes the

matter was one which placed our esteemed relative still higher in the

rank of heroes to which our childish thoughts had long since raised

him. Nor were we frightened at the idea of foot-pads or highwaymen

having suddenly made their unwonted appearance in our happy and

tranquil neighbourhood. It seemed to us only natural that curious and

unusual things should attend Uncle Joe wherever he went, and it was

with him and his life, and not with our home and its surroundings, that

we connected the circumstance of this new feature in the locality.

However, the truth or falsehood of the story mattered little to us, so

long as we had got our uncle safe and sound after all. There he was,

and there he continued for several weeks; for a broken head and arm

required attention, and he was nowhere so likely to receive it as at

our house. During this long visit we saw more of Uncle Joe than we had

ever done before, and it soon became an established practice that,

after our tea and before dressing-time, he should narrate to us some of

those wonderful stories of which I have spoken.

One of these I will relate, as nearly as possible in the words of my

revered uncle, in order that my readers may be able to imagine the kind

of way in which all his stories were told. But the other tales which I

propose to chronicle I will tell after a different fashion, relating

the substance of Uncle Joe's narrative, but leaving out the personal

allusions to his own prowess with which it was embellished. Those who

read have only to imagine that in the chief personage in every story

they discern Uncle Joe, and they will easily discover the little

alterations which I have thought it well to make in order to vary the

form of each tale. The one which I am now going to tell was a favourite

one with us boys, but the girls did not like so much killing, and

rather thought Uncle Joe must have been a more cruel man in the days

when these adventures happened to him than at the time he recounted

them. Since then I have read a great many books from the pen of Cooper,

Captain Mayne Reid, and Gustave Aimard, all dealing with the doings of

Red Indians, their subtlety, their treachery, their implacable revenge,

and other pleasing characteristics, and I have often thought that Uncle

Joe must have intended a parody upon some of their most stirring

recitals of Indian adventure in the following story. But, most

certainly, he told it as having happened to himself, and threw so much

vehemence into his manner of telling it, that we children never for a

moment doubted that such was the case.

I remember quite well the day he first told it to us; and how intensely

interested in it we all were. He began it at tea-time: I think he liked

to tell his most extraordinary and unlikely stories at tea-time for the

benefit of Miss Crinkles, and I sometimes wonder that the questions she

occasionally asked him did not create a suspicion in our minds that

there was some doubt as to the truth of some of his facts. But no such

suspicion, as far as I can recollect, ever dawned upon our childish

imaginations, and the only result of Miss Crinkles' questions was to

imbue us with increased awe and respect for our uncle, whom even our

governess could not readily understand without asking for further

information. It was, I say, at tea-time that this story was begun, and,

I think, finished. One of us boys had expressed a great desire to hear

of some Indian adventures, and Uncle Joe, ever ready to oblige, at once

commenced the following narrative, perhaps one of the least likely of

the many marvellous tales with which he ever favoured us.

"It was during the time which I passed in America that some of the

strangest and wildest adventures of my life happened. Perhaps none of

these was more remarkable than that which I am about to relate to you,

and indeed I question whether many people exist who have ever

encountered an adventure so extraordinary. I had roamed some way

through the dense forest, far from any human habitation, accompanied

only by my faithful dog "Jumbo," a magnificent Cuban bloodhound, who

never left my side, and was the cleverest as well as the bravest animal

I ever possessed. I had with me my trusty double-barrelled rifle, a

revolver, and a hunting-knife, and had for many days depended for my

supply of food upon my skill as a marksman. I remember that it was a

lovely day, and as the dense foliage of the woods protected me from the

heat of the sun, I rambled on and on in pleasant and listless security

for many a mile. At length it happened that I approached a large tree,

standing rather apart from its forest companions, and conspicuous not

only by the size of its trunk, but by the magnificent limbs which it

threw out on every side. I was already within a few yards of this tree

when I observed something which caused me to stand still and gaze upon

it before I advanced further. One large branch hung across my line of

march, and in a few seconds I should have passed immediately beneath

it; but it was something in connection with this very branch which

arrested my footsteps. The day was perfectly calm and still; not a

breath of wind was to be perceived, and yet I fancied that I saw the

leaves with which this branch was thickly covered, tremble and rustle

just as if a breeze was blowing through them. As I stood wondering what

could be the cause of this strange occurrence, and doubtful whether or

not to proceed, my doubts were cleared away in a manner more alarming

than agreeable. Suddenly I perceived, rearing itself among the leaves,

the hideous head of a gigantic snake. In another instant, whether to

re-arrange its position or for what other reason I know not, the

reptile dropped down from the branch to the length of some three or

four feet, and swing for a moment or two like the pendulum of a clock,

from the branch around which its tail and part of its body remained

curled. I could not tell how long or large it might be, but I saw quite

sufficient to assure me that it was a snake of very great size, and I

shuddered to think of my possible fate had I passed beneath the branch

in ignorance of its terrible tenant.

"I hastily retraced my steps for a few yards, and passing the tree at

some little distance, determined to quit the neighbourhood of so

dangerous a creature. The tree upon which it had taken up its position

was upon the side of a somewhat steep hill, and it so happened that I

had walked some way along the said hill very much lower down, and was

now working my way back in a line parallel to my previous passage.

"I had not gone many yards beyond the snake's tree, before the manner

of my dog attracted my attention. He threw up his head, sniffed the air

uneasily, and then gave vent to a low whine which, from previous

experience, I knew full well to betoken the presence of danger. At the

same moment, listening with eager attention, and with an acuteness of

hearing which those only possess who live such a life of wild,

dangerous activity as mine was at that time, I fancied that I heard the

cracking of a stick under the foot of man. It seemed to be at some

distance off, and apparently far below where I was standing. The trees

were too thick to enable me to see far, but creeping forward a little,

and standing on the trunk of a fallen tree, I endeavoured to look down

the hill as much as the fall of the ground permitted. It so happened

that there was a space of ground somewhat less thickly surrounded by

trees than the rest of the forest, over which I had passed in my

previous journey, and it was upon this space that I looked, being many

feet above it. You may imagine my feelings when I caught sight of an

Indian, fully armed and decked in his war-paint, just crossing this

space, and evidently examining the ground before him with the greatest

care. I should have thought but little of this, indeed, but for that

which followed. He crossed the space, and immediately after him came

nine of his companions, horrible-looking creatures, travelling in

single file and closely following in their leader's footsteps. Horror

of horrors! they were upon my track. I knew it but too well! there was

I, alone in the wild forest, with no less than ten deadly foes after

me, whose object undoubtedly was to take my life, and not improbably

with some of those tortures with which Indians delight to amuse

themselves at the expense of their captives.

"Now I happened to have a decided preference for living, if I could,

and, if I _must_ die, for dying in a respectable manner. The idea

of having my scalp torn from my head, and hung up in the wigwam of a

wild savage, was extremely repugnant to me, and I determined at once to

avoid such an unpleasant catastrophe if I possibly could. The question

was, however, as to the best way in which this could be accomplished.

If I pushed on through the forest, it could not be long before these

enemies, hardy and used to the woods, and animated with their savage

desire for my life, would overtake me, when, perhaps, I might be too

fatigued to offer any real resistance. If I stood firm where I was,

what could I hope to do against ten men? If, on the other hand, I

assumed a friendly air and advanced to meet them, I knew their

treacherous nature too well to harbour for an instant the thought that

they would treat me otherwise than as a captive taken in war. Indeed,

should it be otherwise, my best fate would probably be to be obliged to

join their tribe, very likely to marry several very unpleasant squaws,

and to drag out my weary existence far away from scenes into which

christianity or civilisation had penetrated. My aim, then, must be to

escape from the clutches of these savages by some method or another,

and I was indeed puzzled what to do. I had not much time to deliberate,

and after a moment's thought, I decided to lie down flat behind the

trunk of the tree on which I had been standing, and calmly await the

event. I looked carefully to my rifle and revolver, both of which I

ascertained to be loaded and ready for action, I bid my brave Jumbo lie

down at my feet, which the intelligent animal immediately did,

crouching quite close to the fallen tree, and then, having so disposed

my body that I could see under one of the branches of the tree, and

watch the approach of my enemies, I remained still and hoped for the

best. It seemed to me hours before they came near. In reality it could

not have been much more than half an hour, for the spot at which I had

seen them could have been barely three miles, even by the zig-zag line

which I had followed, and as I, having had no suspicion of the presence

of a foe, had taken no precaution to conceal my track, they were not

delayed in their pursuit by any trouble in discovering my footsteps. On

they came, steadily and silently, and I saw them from my hiding-place

rapidly approaching me. The foremost Indian had already arrived at the

spot from which I had gazed at the overhanging branch and its fearful

occupant, and stopped for an instant at the place where my footsteps

ended, evidently puzzled as to what I had done, and where I had gone

from that point.

"Not long, however, did he hesitate, but, casting a glance right and

left, moved rapidly forward towards the tree, to discover whether any

traces were to be found in that direction. Three or four of his rapid,

noiseless strides brought him beneath the fatal branch: enemy as he

was, I longed to warn him, despite the danger to myself, but it was

more than I dared venture to do, and in another instant it was too

late. With sudden and awful rapidity the snake darted downwards from

the branch and struck the unfortunate wretch--a piercing yell rang

through the woods, but the victim cried in vain. Encircled by the coils

of the mighty reptile, his doom was sealed beyond hope, and I turned my

head from the horrible sight of the last struggles of my miserable foe.

His companions rushed hastily back as they saw their leader's fate, and

I earnestly hoped that this misfortune would have induced them to

desist from their pursuit. It was not so, however, but after the lapse

of a few moments only, I saw them making casts like hounds directed by

a huntsman, and presently they discovered the place where I had turned

aside, and came eagerly forward on my track. There was no time to be

lost: they were little more than twenty yards from my tree, and I had a

full view of them. Nine more savage-looking rascals you never saw.

Their war-paint made them appear even more ugly than nature had made

them, although that was somewhat difficult. Only three of them carried

rifles, the rest being armed, as far as I could see, only with

tomahawks and hunting-knives. They were evidently "braves," or

warriors, all of them, and by their appearance and the expression upon

their faces, I felt very sure that they were in that excited state that

my chance of mercy would be but small if I should be so unfortunate as

to fall into their hands. I determined, therefore, to act with vigour

and decision, and, if the worst came to the worst, to sell my life

dearly at all events. When, therefore, my enemies were barely fifteen

yards from me, I suddenly sprang to my feet, uttering at the same time

the loudest and most outlandish howl I could command, by way of a

war-cry, which Jumbo echoed by a bark more like the roar of a lion than

the sound made by an ordinary dog. As I had expected, this sudden

movement on my part took the Indians entirely by surprise, and caused

them to come to a halt on the instant. Whilst they were thus stationary

I fired both barrels of my rifle as quickly as possible, selecting as

their object two of those who had firearms in their hands. The foremost

man threw up his arms and dropped like a log, whilst the bullet of the

second barrel, fired somewhat hastily, only struck an Indian in the

shoulder. Scarcely waiting, however, to see the result, I had no sooner

fired than I bounded down the hill, reloading as fast as I could, and

closely followed by the faithful Jumbo. The Indians, disconcerted by

the suddenness of my appearance and attack, stood still for a moment

without any effort to pursue me. Not long, however, was this the case,

for a wild yell of anger and revenge rang through the air, and I knew

that my relentless foes were again upon my track. I did not run far,

for being expert at loading, my rifle was soon ready, and I well knew

that all depended upon my speedy and effective use of the trusty

weapon. Not fifty yards from the spot whence I had fired my first shot,

I reached an open space, across which I bounded like a deer, and placed

myself behind a large tree upon the further side. A few seconds after,

and the enemy rushed into the space, and at a glance I perceived that

there were only seven. My shots, then, had both told! Inspirited by

this good fortune, I felt my nerves grow steadier on the instant, and

as the foremost savage bounded towards me, I fired upon him with deadly

effect. He fell; and his six comrades immediately sought shelter in the

bushes, but not before the shot from my second barrel reduced their

number to five. Without an instant's delay, I darted down the hill

again, at the base of which flowed a stream which I desired to reach,

hoping to find some place on the opposite bank where I might make a

stand. But my pursuers, grown wise by experience, no longer followed me

together, but, spreading out right and left ran silently yet swiftly

towards me. Full well did I know that they would do so, and that I must

use every stratagem within my power if I desired to escape with my

life.

"Accordingly, after I had gone a short distance, I seized the branch

of a tree, and swung myself up as quietly and quickly as I could,

motioning to Jumbo with my hand to continue his course, which the

clever animal did for some little way, and then stopped. It fell out as

I had hoped. Presently a light footstep came nearer and nearer to the

tree upon which I sat, and an Indian, creeping softly forward, stole

actually within three yards of the spot. He passed me and went silently

forward for a few steps, when again the report of my rifle rang through

the woods, and I had but four foemen to contend with. But I knew only

too well the risk I had run in order thus to diminish their number.

_I was no longer certain that all my enemies were behind me._ All I

_did_ know was, that four active, unwounded, ferocious men were

somewhere near at hand, thirsting for my blood, and that I had but my

rifle and my trusty hound to depend on to save me from their clutches.

"I remained perfectly still, not venturing even to reload my rifle, and

listened with an eagerness which became agony. Not a sound could I hear

of any sort or description. The Indians had evidently become alive to

their danger, and were employing all the cunning of their race in order

to avoid their own destruction and compass mine. Jumbo also was

certainly aware that he had a part to play, and was in all probability

lying still until I should summon him to my side. The suspense was

awful, and all the more so as I knew perfectly well that a false

move--or perhaps any move at all--might be fatal to my hopes of escape.

"How long this state of things endured I can hardly tell you, for my

nerves were strung to that tension that I could take no account of

time. It might have been, for aught I knew, five minutes or five hours,

but probably the former is more nearly correct. As soon as I had shot

the last Indian, I had drawn myself back to the thickest part of the

branch on which I sat, and believed that I was invisible to the eyes of

anyone below. I soon discovered my mistake, however, and that in a

manner which very nearly put an end to me and my adventure together. As

I waited anxiously for the next scene in this exciting drama, I

suddenly felt my hunting cap struck from my head, whilst the sound of a

rifle-shot rang unpleasantly near to my ears: a bullet had passed

through my cap within an inch of my head!

"One of the Indians had certainly caught sight of me, and, aiming from

some hiding-place hard by, had fired the shot which had so nearly

proved fatal.

"Of course it would have been sheer madness to remain where I was for

one moment longer, for another shot might, and probably would, prove

more successful. Quick as lightning the thought flashed through my

brain, that my only chance was to deceive my enemy into the belief that

he had accomplished his purpose. Accordingly, in an instant I dropped

heavily to the ground. Fortunately I had no great distance to fall, and

as I did so, I kept my rifle clasped closely to my breast. It happened

as I had anticipated, and even better than I had ventured to hope, for

the next moment all four of my foes came rushing through the wood from

different points, the man who had fired brandishing his rifle over his

head as he approached. He was within three or four yards of me when I

sprang suddenly to my feet, and fired directly into his breast, with

the natural result of checking his career for ever. No sooner had I

fired than I rushed again down the hill at full speed, calling to my

hound as I ran.

"The three remaining Indians did not stop with their slain friend for

an instant, but, incensed beyond measure at his death and the success

of my stratagem, followed me at best speed, much too closely to be

pleasant. I determined, however, to reach and cross the stream if

possible, and made every effort to do so. There was a small space

nearly clear of trees and bushes between the edge of the wood and the

stream, beyond which the wood again stretched away far and wide. I

reached this space, and was within a couple of yards of the stream when

my foes were upon me. Fearing that they might take me at disadvantage,

I turned and suddenly confronted them--three horrid looking ruffians

they were--their eyes gleaming with fury, and their appearance

altogether enough to frighten any civilised person out of his wits.

"When I turned they were four or five yards from me--most fortunately

none of them had firearms, not having stayed their pursuit to pick up

the rifles of their deceased companions--each of them, however, had his

tomahawk, and each hurled it at my head as I turned to face them.

Dropping suddenly on one knee, I was fortunate enough to escape these

weapons, which all whizzed harmlessly over my head: the three men were,

however, close at hand, and I had no time to escape them. At this

moment, however, I recollected an old trick of which I had read

somewhere or other, and which I instantly resolved to put in practice.

Rising from my knee, I rushed to meet one of the Indians, and as he

furiously came upon me, I suddenly stooped quite low, evaded the blow

which he struck over me, and seizing him by both ankles, lifted him by

sheer muscular strength over myself, so that he fell with great

violence upon his head several yards behind me, carried forward by the

force of his own weight and impetus. The other two were so confused at

this occurrence, that they lost the single moment in which they might

have struck me a deadly blow without the possibility of my warding it

off. The next moment Jumbo sprang upon one of them, whilst I confronted

the other.

"My first object was to seize the wrist of the hand which held his

hunting knife. I had no time to draw my own, and my only hope was to

deprive my enemy of his weapon. In an instant we closed and grappled

furiously. I kept firm hold of his wrist, however, well knowing that

this was my safety. After a short struggle we rolled on the ground

together, and the Indian's hand coming in contact with something hard,

he dropped the fatal knife. We were now upon more equal terms, but

still there were many chances against me. My foe was a tall, brawny,

muscular man, a hardy son of the woods, and, like myself, now fighting

for his life. Never shall I forget that moment. In the midst of that

terrible struggle, when I was putting forth all my strength and

concentrating every effort in order to gain the mastery, the pleasant

meadows of dear old England came up in a vision, as it were, before my

eyes, and familiar home scenes flashed like lightning across my sight.

I redoubled my efforts, but the savage had succeeded in grasping my

throat with one of his hands, and it was with the greatest difficulty I

could draw my breath. My eyes seemed to grow dull and heavy, there was

the roar of ten thousand surges in my ears, my temples throbbed as if

they would burst, and I felt creeping over me a terrible sensation of

despair, which I shall never forget whilst I have power to remember

anything.

"All at once there came upon my hearing the sound as of a short, sharp

roar of fury--the Indian's grasp was loosened--my sight came back to

me, again I heard, I recovered consciousness just sufficiently to see

my faithful Jumbo with his mighty teeth fixed in the throat of my dying

enemy, and then I sank back in a dead faint.

"How long I remained in this state it is impossible for me to say. I

was awakened by a soft, cooling sensation on my forehead, and opening

my eyes, regained sufficient consciousness to be aware that an Indian

maiden was bathing my feverish brow with cold water from the

neighbouring stream, whilst my dog, usually so ferocious, was couched

near, regarding her with friendly eyes, and evidently quite aware that

she was performing a kindly office, and was not to be interrupted. I

strove to speak; but my benefactress forbade me with an expressive

gesture, placing her finger lightly upon my lips.

"'White broder no speak,' she said, in the low guttural accents of her

race; 'no open him lips. Silence berry good. Talkee hurt.'

"I was too confused and, I hope, too grateful to disobey, and remained

perfectly quiet whilst the maiden continued her interesting occupation

for several minutes, during which time I had an opportunity of

attentively observing her. She was certainly one of the loveliest--nay,

_the_ loveliest of Indian maidens. Although she had not quite as

many clothes on as an European damsel would consider necessary, their

absence only served to disclose the perfect symmetry of her form, the

graceful rounding of her limbs, and the natural dignity of her every

movement. Her eyes, large and soft as those of the gazelle, were

fringed with the most magnificent eye-lashes you can imagine, and when

she cast them down, she presented an ideal of female modesty and

refinement, which could not be surpassed by the most fashionable young

lady that ever graced a London drawing-room. When she smiled, her face

lighted up like that of a lovely child when, just awakened, it sees the

loving face of its mother bending over it, and, in a word, purity,

innocence, and natural beauty seemed all concentrated in the form,

features, and expression of this child of the woods. Such at least was

the thought which occupied my breast as I lay still and gazed upon the

gentle being who was ministering to my wants in so agreeable a manner,

and I think I could have stayed in the same position some time longer

without any great desire to move. But, after a little while, the maiden

ceased to bathe my brow, and addressing me in the same tones as before,

said, 'White broder sit up now. Him better. Him no die dis time.' I

mechanically obeyed, sat up, and felt much better already. In fact,

there was no reason why I should not be so, for, save and except the

exertion and excitement which I had undergone, and the near approach to

strangulation from which Jumbo had providentially saved me, I had

really received no bodily injury. It really seems a strange thing to

look back upon, but here had been ten men against one poor wayfarer,

and yet the ten had perished, and he was left alive. I did not think,

however, of looking back at that moment; my thoughts were fixed upon my

new friend: who or what was she,--where did she come from,--could she

possibly be one of the tribe who had been upon my trail? If so, why

did she not kill and scalp me whilst I lay senseless on the ground?

Horrible thought! my head seemed to feel the knife, and I could fancy

the awful wrench with which one's scalp would go; but I had no need for

such thoughts. My scalp was safe and sound, and the maiden evidently

could not belong to my enemies. The only way to find out the truth

about her was to ask, so, adopting my style to her own, I began without

loss of time.

"'My sister very good;--kind to poor white broder. Where my sister come

from? How she happen to be in woods? Is she far from her home? And what

my sister's name?'

"The girl laughed, and looked down upon the ground as she replied at

once:

"'White broder ask many questions. Pale-face always much talkee.

Moon-eye not tell eberything. No good too much talkee.'

"I doubted what to say next. I had gained one piece of information

certainly, since the damsel evidently referred to herself as 'Moon-eye,'

which was undoubtedly an appropriate name for her, and had been given

by someone who was no bad judge of eyes in general, and hers in

particular. But I wanted to know a great deal more, whilst at the same

time I was anxious not to appear rude or inquisitive. So I remained

silent for a little while, when presently she rose to her feet and

addressed me in the following words:

"'Pale-face broder come now. "Moon-eye" show way.'

"I obeyed without hesitation, and prepared to go wherever she led, for

in fact I had no alternative. It was very unlikely that the girl was

alone in the forest, and if not, the eyes and ears of her friends might

even at this moment be within sight and hearing, in which case my

policy, as well as my inclination, would be to appear to be upon the

best possible terms with her, and to approach them in her company and

under her guidance. I felt somewhat weak when I attempted to walk, but

as it was only weakness, I knew it would soon pass away, and so said

nothing, but quietly followed my guide. She walked down to the little

stream before mentioned, then turned along its bank and proceeded for

several hundred yards until she came to a place where the water was so

shallow as to enable us easily to wade over, which we did, and plunged

into the woods on the other side. By this time, I thought I might as

well try to get a little more conversation out of my friend, and

therefore accosted her with some ordinary question, but she immediately

turned round and, placing her finger on her lips, said, in a voice so

low as to be little more than a whisper:

"'No talkee--enemy in woods. Moon-eye prisoner once. No want catchee

again.'

"For the first time the truth now dawned upon me, and I understood the

reason of the exceeding kindness bestowed upon me by the Indian damsel,

which I had previously attributed either to her own natural humanity,

or to admiration for my noble and prepossessing appearance. But, as I

afterwards discovered,'Moon-eye' had been carried off from her tribe by

a party of thieving Indians, who, in order to elude pursuit, had

divided in their journey, ten of them being entrusted with the captive

maiden. While passing through this part of the woods, they had struck

my trail, and, seeing it to be recent, had left the prisoner bound, and

hastily followed, intending to finish me off before they continued

their journey. Fortunately for me it had turned out otherwise, but it

might not have been fortunate for 'Moon-eye' had she not succeeded in

freeing herself from the bonds in which she had been left. They must

have been less carefully tied than most Indian fastenings that I have

seen; but I fancy the girl had rather deceived her captors by

pretending to go with them more willingly than was really the case, and

perchance a desire to avoid injuring her in any way had induced the

Indians to fasten her less tightly and securely than they might

otherwise have done. Anyhow, she contrived to get loose, and also to

find her way to the spot where I lay senseless, and where, as we have

seen, she treated me with a care and tenderness which I little expected

to encounter in the depth of the forest.

Uncle Joe's Stories · 第 1 / 23 段