Henry S. Spalding

“ As they groped around in the dark searching for wood, Martin slipped, and at the same time grasped the side of the cave to prevent his falling. The huge rock yielded, and opened like the massive door of some great dungeon, disclosing a lurid light farther in the cave.
"Heavens! what is this?" gasped the boy, losing his hold and letting the rock swing back to its former position.
"A robbers' den," whispered Owen, trembling with fright. "They have not seen us; let us get away as fast as we can." ”

“ 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?" ”

“ Never did Owen's rifle-craft prove more useful to him than at that moment. Conscious of his power, he raised his rifle. His aim was long and true and steady. Then a sharp, clear ring, followed by the deep, loud report of the highwayman's pistol, discharged by the shock of his bullet. For a moment both robbers and passengers were dazed. No one seemed to know what had happened or to have noticed that a rifle had been fired. ”

“ The leader of the party dismounted, and shouldering his long deer-rifle, strode through the crowd with giant-like steps. What a picture of manhood! He did not appear to belong to the present generation, but rather to that race of ancient warriors, who wielded battle-axes, which men of our age can scarcely lift.
His disheveled hair reached his shoulders, his fox-skin cap was plumed with an eagle-feather, his deer-skin coat almost reached his knees, and his belt was made of the skin of a rattle-snake; while his dark moccasins completed his wild but attractive costume. ”

“ They must not leave this cave!"
"Tom, you is drunk or crazy!" said Jerry. "Shoot two boys for a little chink; never! Not for this cave full of gold and whisky!"
"No one can find it out," replied the Tinker. "People will think that they were drowned, that they shot each other, or that something else happened to them."
"I'll do anything but kill," said Stayford; "that I'll never do. I once knew a murderer who was haunted by a ghost day and night. Besides, what good would it do?"
"It'll save this cave and everything in it!" said the Tinker; "besides, those boys are Catholics! I hate them!" ”

“ So without exception each horseman put spurs to his animal and galloped back. When Owen raised his rifle for the last and crowning shot, a deathlike silence fell upon the spectators. But this silence was of short duration. The robin flew straight into the air, then wheeled around with a graceful curve—a sharp report, and down the bird twirled to the ground.
Martin all the while was standing apart from the crowd, watching Owen's every movement, confident of his power, yet dreading some possible accident. ”

“ 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 motley crowd swayed to and fro, and seemed eager for applause, so the hurrahs were re-echoed until Owen reached the judges' stand.
Here, however, his youthful hopes were crushed. The oldest of the judges eyed him from beneath his black, overhanging eye-brows, and remarked in a dignified way that the contest was not for boys. Owen was a boy; a boy in age, in build, in appearance; if he entered the lists, he would have to enter as a boy.
"If the shooting-match is only for men," said he, "then, sir, I shall have to wait some time, for I am only fifteen." ”

“ The tidings which our young friends carried resembled in some respects the message of Paul Revere—his was the cry of battle, theirs the shout of victory; he called his countrymen to defend their rights, they proclaimed that their country's wrongs had been redressed. On they sped, their young hearts burning with patriotic pride. Firing their pistols to attract the attention of the farmers near the road, pausing for a moment to show the flag and tell the good news, then dashing on again, in less than two hours the boys were galloping up the hill in sight of Bardstown. ”

“ Do you intend to compete?" asked the priest.
"Yes, Father," was the reply. "Martin Cooper was there last year, and he says that I can shoot better than Coon-Hollow Jim."
"And who is Coon-Hollow Jim?" interrupted Father Byrne.
"Coon-Hollow Jim!" repeated Owen. "Why, I thought that everybody knew him! He is the best marksman in twelve miles from here, in a place called Coon-Hollow. They say he is about six feet and a half high."
"And do you think you can shoot better than such a man?" asked the priest, who was amused at the boy's earnestness. ”

“ 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." ”

“ Stored away on heavy beams within these deep recesses of the cave were hundreds of barrels of whisky, the output of three years. The barrels caught fire; the heavy beams caught fire; the whisky poured out in streams and fed the raging element. Smoke and flame found their way through a thousand crevices and rifts until the whole hillside appeared to be ablaze. The glare through the rock door which stood ajar lit up the surrounding trees ”

“ I predict success for you at the shooting match."
Even Mr. Howard was surprised at the deftness with which his son handled a rifle. He himself when young had been something of a marksman, but in his best days he had never equaled Owen. To kill six swallows in succession was almost marvelous. Prize shooters, even with sporting guns, could not bring them down with certainty; and when rifles were used, not one bird in ten was killed.
Rifle-shooting is an art. The marksman must know his gun, its exact range, the strength of his powder and exactly how much is required. ”

“ Martin again closed his eyes and hid his face within his hands. He heard the sharp report of Owen's rifle, and then such shouts as he had never listened to before. The yearly shooting-match was over, and Owen Howard had made a record which was never before or afterward equaled.
Our little hero would certainly have been crushed to death had he not been rescued a second time by his giant friend, who again carried him to the platform, piled together the benches of the stand, and high above the heads of both the judge and people placed the youthful victor. ”

“ Here Bounce!" called Owen in a loud voice as he rushed from the house, rifle in hand, crossed the barnyard, and ran at full speed toward a strip of woods which joined with the forest. "Here, Bounce!" he continued to call, looking back now and then to see whether the dog was following. But Bounce was in the field with the negro workmen, too far away to hear the voice of his master.
At the edge of the woods Owen found the mangled body of a young lamb. Glancing down a narrow ravine, he saw a wildcat disappear in the thick underbrush not two hundred yards away. ”

“ Lane," said Squire Grundy, thrusting his huge, shaggy head through the stage door and grasping the giant's hand.
"Good morning, Squire! Step right in; we have just room for one more."
"That's lucky, Mr. L——. Beg your pardon, sir; beg your pardon. You see, this is the first time we have met since you were made sheriff of Nelson County. Have you grown any larger since you became sheriff?" asked the Squire, taking a seat by the side of Mr. Lane.
"Not any larger, but a little wiser, I reckon."
"We are never too old to learn, Mr. Lane—beg your pardon again, Sheriff—we are never too old to learn. ”

“ And still an hour later not less than four hundred captured robins, though imprisoned in a coop, dreamed that they were roosting among the cedars; while Owen and Martin in their snug beds dreamed of the shooting-match, and their future victory over Coon-Hollow Jim.
"Helloo, Mart! What made you so late?" said Owen as Martin entered the field chosen as the place of practice.
"Late! It isn't late yet. You can kill many a robin before dark," answered Martin, at the same time putting down a box which he carried on his shoulder. ”

“ Lane was ignorant of the fact that the fleshy man before him was the jolly fiddler and marksman whom he had met at the famous shooting-match on Grundy's farm.
Within the stage, the Squire was entertaining the passengers with stories of Indian wars. He had often seen Indians dodge bullets, but Mr. Lane, he thought, was the first white man to perform such a feat. The sheriff was elated as he listened to these words of praise from so great and influential a man as Squire Grundy. In the meantime, he carelessly examined the pistol which he held in his hand. ”

“ From his place of concealment Stayford watched this exhibition of skill. "It is well for me that I am not here to meet those boys in a fair fight with pistols," he thought to himself. "How quick it was done, too. Of course it was that young Owen. He seems to handle a pistol as well as he does a rifle, and the very pistol he won at the shooting-match. How I would like to have one of that make," and Walter Stayford examined the rusty cap and ball revolver which hung at his side.
"Your bullet hit him," said Owen, who thought that in his eagerness to fire rapidly he had shot above the turtle. ”

“ Occasionally some massive poplar of more than a century's growth would crash to the ground with a force that shook the earth for many yards around, tearing huge branches from the surrounding trees, crushing the smaller ones beneath its ponderous weight, and causing the hills on the other side of the river to ring with prolonged reverberations.
Owen enjoyed the work. He wielded his axe with a true and telling stroke. His hands and muscles were gradually hardened, until he could labor the entire day without the least fatigue. ”

“ Is there no one around here except yourselves?"
"No, sir! No one!"
"How—a—did you come to know about this cave?" asked the man in a milder but hesitating way.
"I found it one day when I was out hunting," answered Owen.
"I found it in the same way," said the man. "The rain drove me in here, too. It isn't a very good place to sleep, still we'll have to hold out here until morning; so just lie down, boys, and try to take a rest."
"No, sir!" said Martin, looking toward the place where the big door had opened. "We are going to leave this cave immediately. It's a robbers' den or it's haunted." ”

“ Could not Owen tell his father that he knew of the cave and persuade him to start at once to rescue Mr. Lane?
But why not go alone? Better still, get Martin Cooper to accompany him. They could reach the cave early in the night and bring assistance to a friend who needed their help. They could frustrate the design of a villain who had sought their lives.
Uncle Pius continued to rehearse his story, changing and distorting facts at each successive repetition. Owen scarcely hearing what the old man said; his mind was too busily engaged in working out a plan of action. ”

“ When Jerry had gone some distance down the river he turned and yelled to the boys: "If you meet my friend Stayford, tell him he'll find me near old Bowman's shipping place!"
"Why didn't I ask him about that dead-fall?" said Owen, looking down the narrow path where Jerry had disappeared.
"What dead-fall?" inquired Martin.
"One that will catch weasels and foxes. A weasel has been stealing our chickens every night."
"And can't you trap him in the ordinary dead-fall?" asked Martin.
"No! he is too sharp for them. The common dead-fall is good enough for wildcats and wolves. ”

“ The swallows were flittering and diving through the air in quest of gnats and other insects, many of the birds passing not twenty feet overhead.
"Father," said Owen, adjusting his rifle for action, "we received a new keg of powder by the last stage, and I haven't had time to test its strength yet; so, if I miss the first few shots, you'll know the reason."
"No excuse! no excuse!" said the priest, with a laugh. "If you do not kill five birds in succession, you are no match for the giant." ”

“ But there upon the rock could still be read the words:
Sealed Forever.
To-day a primitive ladder leads up into the "hold out." It is made of a sycamore trunk, nailed with slats and leaning against the side of the cliff. The "hold out" is a favorite resort for the boys during the fishing season, for here they seek protection from the Spring rains. This, too, is their place of lodging when they fish at night. Gathered here in dusky groups around a blazing camp-fire, they often sit and rehearse the story of Owen Howard and the cave by the Beech Fork. ”

“ The trapper, who was not a little surprised at Owen's liberal offer, answered in his brusk, good-natured way: "Not partic'lar, youngstar, not partic'lar."
"Mother always prefers them shot through the head; she says that they are better when they bleed as soon as they are killed," said Owen.
"That's where we disagree; I'll take the feller barked. Bark him, youngstar, bark him if you can," said Jerry, at the same time getting in position to shoot the squirrel after Owen had fired, for he was convinced that only a champion marksman could touch it at such a height. ”