Cf>l70.03 
 
 A CHEROKEE BALL-PLAY AND DUEL 
 BY V/. A. THOMPSON 
 
THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 THE COLLECTION OF 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 ENDOViEr) BY 
 
 JOHN SPRUNT HILL 
 CLASS OF 1889 
 
 Cp970.03 
 tU7c 
 

 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cherokeeballplayOOthom 
 
Au^^ /i' 
 
 7 " ■' 
 
 The Rosary. 
 
 167 
 
 " So winter passed, and when the spring 
 
 Was mild and warm in everything, 
 
 One day, at Madelina's side, 
 
 I walked the champaign still and wide, 
 
 How fresh the leaf on bush and bough! 
 
 How green the sunfiowered turf below! 
 
 Afar, upon an upland lawn, 
 
 St. Mary's convent crowned the view, 
 
 Its roofs and turrets darkly drawn 
 
 Upon the light and living blue. 
 
 And she so near, so sweet, so dear! 
 
 And none to see and none to hear, 
 
 And only that enchanting sky 
 
 'Twixt us and bright infinity ; 
 
 Mj' heart leaped up, its barriers broke, 
 
 And all its blissful passion spoke. 
 
 " She heard me with a cheek so white, 
 
 And such an anguish in her eye, 
 
 I would have clasped her in my fright. 
 
 But with a shudder and a cry, 
 
 ' O, touch me, woo me not!' she said, 
 
 ' I am a pledged, devoted maid ; 
 
 Ere I had numbered summers seven, 
 
 I promised all my life to Heaven ; 
 
 My every prayer hath sealed the vow, 
 
 I must not, cannot break it now. 
 
 Mother of sorrows, pity me ! 
 
 ThoTi dost, but O, thou canst not free!' 
 
 " Upon this cross her lips she pressed. 
 Then clasped the symbol to her breast; 
 Raised heavenward looks that mutely prayed, 
 Then turned, and fondly, sadly said, 
 
 'My friend, if thou hast loved me, go; 
 My heart hath sinned enough for thee. 
 And Christ and Mary only know 
 How deep hath been its agony. 
 Farewell! perchance we'll meet again 
 "Where love will not be sin or pain !' 
 
 " As if a wanderer, long from home. 
 To the beloved place should come. 
 And meet a sentry at the door, 
 "Who tells him it is his no more — 
 That hostile powers possess the land, 
 And force him from his native strand — 
 He hears, and stands in woful trance. 
 Heart-stricken by the fatal chance: 
 E'en so I heard, and so I stood 
 At the barred gates of promised good, 
 Then, wild with love and baffled hope, 
 I sought with her resolve to cope. 
 A losing strife — I could not brook 
 The silent pleading of her look; 
 Love to himself a traitor proved 
 In conflict with his own beloved. 
 And Eeason faltered, fain to spare 
 The creed that nursed a life so fair. 
 
 •" And so I yielded to her prayer, 
 And led her to St. Mary's shrine. 
 
 There, in a presence great, divine. 
 To rend her from this heart of mine. 
 And there I left her, kneeling low 
 Amid the votive flowers of May, 
 And with a burning sense of woe 
 And injury, I turned away. 
 But not in prayer to woo relief; 
 I sought another cure for grief. 
 And, flying from those scenes afar. 
 Enlisted in a foreign war. 
 
 " I felt the breath of battle blow; 
 I saw the dead lie cold below; 
 At length my bleeding heart forbore 
 To mourn life's losses at death's door. 
 And in the still and solemn night 
 That bordered on the fiery fight. 
 On the long march, or in the gloom 
 Of hospital or prison room. 
 My soul, so oft from death redeemed. 
 Looked up, and on its darkness streamed 
 The glory of the Lord, my shield. 
 In all his tenderness revealed. 
 And so I felt my sorrow yield. 
 And when the peace-flower bloomed anew. 
 All heavenly from that hellish dew, 
 A solemn peace my heart possessed. 
 And struck its music through my breast. 
 
 " Upon my native soil again, 
 
 The kindred of my blood embraced. 
 
 Once more the memory-haunted plain 
 
 All other images efi"aced, 
 
 And drew me, like a pleading ghost. 
 
 To seek its scenes at any cost. 
 
 O, never weary pilgrim neared 
 
 The shrine by holiest hopes endeared. 
 
 In such an ecstasy of soul — 
 
 Half fear, all joy, J)eyond control — 
 
 As shook my pulses while I moved 
 
 Toward those dear haunts of my beloved! 
 
 " And first I sought St. Mary's fane. 
 The doors stood open, it was May; 
 I saw the altar wreathed again 
 As on that mournful parting day. 
 But where she knelt a coffin stood, 
 Open and brimmed with flowers of spring. 
 As if it held some lovely thing 
 As young, as beautiful, as good. 
 My heart stood still. Yes, all was o'er; 
 I knew my love would weep no more ! 
 
 " Her eyes were sealed for long repose, 
 Her mouth was like a fiiding rose, 
 Her fair, thin hands upon her breast 
 Were folded in eternal rest. 
 I stood and gazed, and could not weep, 
 I felt her mine to hold and keep; 
 Into my heart's barred house of gloom 
 I took her in her sweet death-bloom, 
 And felt the sorrow and the sin 
 Depart, and glory enter in I 
 
 I 
 
168 
 
 A Cherokee Ball-Play and Duel. 
 
 " Then through the roofs a music rung, 
 And words, as from an angel's tongue: 
 ' The marriage of the Lamb is come, 
 Ecjoice! the bride is welcomed home.' 
 ^yith changes sweet, it came again, 
 And still my heart replied, amen! 
 
 " It ceased, and at my side there stood 
 The gray old priest, sincere and good. 
 ' Peace to thy soul!' he kindly said, • 
 ' I have a message from the dead. 
 She begged me, when her soul was freed, 
 And she before the altar laid. 
 To take the amber rosary. 
 O'er which she long had wept and prayed. 
 From off her breast and send it thee. 
 ' " And tell him 'tis a sign," .she said, 
 " That I am with the blessed dead." 
 
 And here her eyes grew large and bright, 
 
 As if she saw some rapturous sight: 
 
 '"And tell him we shall meet again, 
 
 Where love will not be sin or pain." 
 
 "Whoe'er a dying prayer denied? 
 
 I promised, and she sweetly died. 
 
 I came the chapiet to remove. 
 
 And find thee here to claim the gift; 
 
 Take it, and may this cross uplift 
 
 Thy spirit to the realms above!' 
 
 He drew it from her icy hold, 
 
 I took it with a hand as cold. 
 
 Again the organ music rung, 
 
 And loud the hidden singers sung: 
 
 ' The marriage of the Lamb is come, 
 
 Eejoice! the bride is welcomed home.' 
 
 And my soottied spirit answered then, 
 
 As now and evermore, Amen!" 
 
 A CHEROKEE BALL-PLAY AXD DUEL. 
 
 BY W. A. THOMPSON. 
 
 The Cherokees, located on the western 
 frontier of Arkansas, can scarcely now be 
 called Indians, much less savages. At all 
 events, they are as much advanced in civili- 
 zation as their American neighbors. They 
 have schools, a constitution, laws, courts, and 
 more wealth, according to numbers, than any 
 other body politic in the world. Many of 
 their sons and daughters are educated in the 
 first seminaries in Xew England. Besides, 
 they are at present more than half white, 
 owing to a long cours^ of frequent inter- 
 marriage with the white people. They have 
 adopted the names of the whites, also copied 
 their dress, institutions and manners, and 
 especially the custom of duelling, so prevalent 
 on their borders. They still retain, however, 
 some of their ancient amusements, and 
 among the rest, the great game of which 
 they are so excessively fond, the Ball-Play, 
 described in the sequel. 
 
 We give as a voucher for the truth of our 
 narrative, the Hon. George W. Paschal, of 
 Yan Buren, Arkansas, a gentleman well 
 known to the commercial world of New 
 Tork. Mr. Paschal was several years a judge 
 of the supreme court in his adopted State. 
 He is thoroughly acquainted wi|,h the Chero- 
 kees, hr.ving espoused a sister df the famous 
 chief Jchn Kidge. He was present with the 
 writer at the ball-play now to be noticed. 
 
 It was ten o'clock, the fourth of May, 133S. 
 
 The hour, previously fixed at the last general 
 council, had arrived for the commencement 
 of the great national games — imperial paragon 
 of all games the sun of heaven ever saw — tlie 
 famous Cherokee bail-plaj'. 
 
 Immediately the six marshals of the day, 
 distinguished by long crimson scarfs swaling 
 from their shoulders, began to move about 
 W'ith bustling liaste, arranging preliminaries 
 and clearing the ground. The site had been 
 most admirably chosen, both with a view to 
 the perilous sport of the performers and con- 
 venient for the host of spectators. " Ths 
 Looking-ylass Prairie,'' so called on account 
 of its small size and exceeding beauty, is not 
 more than half a mile in extent, and, being 
 environed by majestic forests, resembles a 
 mirror, having its frame wreathed with 
 fantastic garlands. Near the centre of this 
 smooth plain is a circular line of five consid- 
 erable mounds, enclosing a depressed and 
 perfectly level space of from forty to fifty 
 yards in diameter. Here was the arena, 
 altogether fi'ee from grass and somewhat 
 dusty, having been trodden for years by the 
 feet of strong men contending for victory in 
 a sort of strife almost as terrible as real battle. 
 Surrounding the arena, large ropes, attached 
 to posts of cedar set In the earth at the base 
 of the conical mounds, were stretched to their 
 utmost tension, thus serving to separate the 
 crowd of beholders from the champions in the 
 grand game. The mounds themselves, with 
 
A Cherokee Ball-Play and Dictl. 
 
 169 
 
 sloping sides toucliing each other by their 
 gentle acclivity and moderate elevation, 
 formed a fine raised amphitheatre for the 
 assembled multitude, who might be said, 
 almost without hyperbole, to comprise the 
 whole Cherokee nation ; for both sexes, all 
 ages and every condition of life, had gathered 
 to the common point and stated period of 
 annual reunion. 
 
 My glance was attracted from the aggrega- 
 tive mass of human forms by a vision of indi- 
 vidual beauty, brighter than anything I had 
 previously seen or ever conceived, save in the 
 starlit drapery of dreams. Seated among 
 several older persons in a carriage on the 
 summit of the mound, only a few paces from 
 where I stood, was a young girl, whose 
 appearance realized all my imagination had 
 ever painted as the possible perfection of 
 female loveliness. In addition to the charms, 
 for the most part hereditary to the quadroons 
 of her tribe — grace of figure, harmony in 
 every feature, and melting sweetness of smile, 
 transparent and intellectual beauty — this 
 bewitching creature possessed a countenance 
 peculiar and irresistible, yet thoroughly inde- 
 scribable. I essayed a thousand times to 
 profile that face and daguerreotype the lustre 
 of those beamy black eyes, whose rays seemed 
 to emanate from some unknown and meas- 
 ureless distance iji the depths of the soul, or, 
 perchance, out of the heights of heaven, but 
 I have always been forced to cast down my 
 powerless pen in despair. 
 
 "That is Emma Starr," said my friend 
 Paschal, observing the direction of my admir- 
 ing gaze, " the most beautiful woman in the 
 nation." 
 
 "In the world!" I added, mentally. 
 
 "And yet," continued he, "her six brothers 
 afe the most notorious desperadoes and duel- 
 lists west of the Mississippi, although she 
 herself is tendar-hearted and innocent as a 
 fchild; and, what is still stranger, no con- 
 temptible devotee to the Muses." 
 
 " What a pity," I remarked, with increasing 
 interest, "that such an angel could not be 
 removed from associations so uncongenial to 
 a noble nature." 
 
 My friend replied with a piece of informa- 
 tion that darkeiued, to me, forever, a whole 
 streaming galaxy of nebulous hopes. 
 
 " She was to have been wedded some six 
 weeks ago to the eloquent young lawyer 
 Horace Jordan. You have heard of him. 
 But her bold, bad brothers, for what reason I 
 am not apprised, broke off the match, and, it 
 11 
 
 is said, threatened her lovers life ; but I see 
 him yonder." 
 
 And Judge Paschal pointed out with his 
 finger a tall, slender form, loaning agaiutt one 
 of the posts near the arena. 
 
 Suddenly the herald's bugle pealed a clear, 
 piercing note, and every eye was instantly on 
 the ring, into which fifty braves might be 
 seen leaping, by single bounds, over the ropes 
 lygh as the waist. These champions were all 
 dressed alike in leather pantaloons, fitting 
 tightly as the skin, and reaching not more 
 than half way down the thigh. Such was 
 their only garment, the rest of their bodies 
 being completely bare, and shining from a 
 recent copious anointment of yellow colored 
 oil. Choicer specimens of athleticism could 
 not well be found, should you search the 
 wide world over. Volumes of swelling muscle 
 and sharp ridges of naked nerves, literally 
 quivering with pure excess of strength and 
 redundant vitality, all revealed distinctly in 
 the vivid light of cloudless May sunbeams, 
 gave ample assurance how desperate must be 
 the coming conflict. 
 
 The thousands of spectators on the natural 
 amphitheatre of old mounds could see them 
 all, and commenced betting furiously on their 
 various favorites. All around me I could 
 hear wagers proffered, but mostly refused, 
 that some one of the " Starrs," and especially 
 " Big Jim," would win the hundred scores 
 which were to be counted before the termi- 
 nation of the game. 
 
 Again the bugle sounded, and the chief, 
 marshal advanced to one side of the arena, 
 holding in his hand a ball coveretl with 
 leather and of ordinary dimensions, but load- 
 ed with several bullets to give it greater 
 force. By means of a strong sling he hurled 
 the little hissing globe high up in the air, as 
 nearly as possible over the centre of the ring. 
 The gladiators scattered at different points 
 around the enclosed space, and each one 
 touching the ropes, followed with his eyes 
 the ascending missile, to watch the course it 
 might take. It rose half a thousand feet, 
 slower and slower, seemed to rest an instant 
 like a small speck in the sky, and then began 
 to fall, faster in the ratio reversed of its up- 
 ward flight. Tremendous, then, Avas the rush 
 of the athleta? to gain the line of its descent 
 before it should again plumb the earth. The 
 shock of fifty men running at full speed from 
 opposite directions and meeting in a common 
 focus embodied in mere idea the extreme of 
 danger. The peril to life and limb was 
 
170 
 
 A Cherokee Ball-Play and Duel. 
 
 rendered more fearful by the rules of the 
 game, which peruiitted every one to work his 
 way by any act of violence short of direct 
 blows. I shuddered and caught my breath as 
 if suddenly immersed in ice-water on behold- 
 ing more than a dozen braves prostrate on 
 the ground, many of whom liad to be carried 
 from the ring with bleeding noses and broken 
 bones by the marshals and their assistants. 
 
 Owing to his superior swiftness of foot, Sam 
 Runabout, a young Cherokee of the genuine 
 stock, reached the descending ball first, and 
 by a dexterous stroke, when it was only two 
 yards from the earth, sent it whizzing beyond 
 the ropes. 
 
 "Score ten for Runabout!" cried the chief 
 marshal to the recorder, and a loud shout 
 greeted the announcement. 
 
 Once more the herald's bugle brayed out 
 for another round, and a hundred fresh 
 aspirants, in whose breasts the enthusiasm 
 caused by the s.ene had triumphed over 
 prudence, sprang into the ring. And again 
 the ball shot high in the air, and the same 
 result of scarred faces and fractured limbs 
 ensued, aggravated, however, by the increased 
 numbers in the arena. 
 
 "Score down ten more for Runabout!" 
 said the marshal. 
 
 The youth had again succeeded in his 
 difficult feat. Wagers were now laid at ten 
 to one in favor of Runabout, who had already 
 won twenty " figures," and a hundred would 
 close the game. But the wise ones, and 
 among them Thomas Wolfe, chief of the 
 nation, still bet on " Big Jim Starr." 
 
 " Tliis is murderous !" I exclaimed with 
 horror, as one of the gladiators was borne up 
 the mound and deposited on the grass, a few 
 steps from my side, and his wife fell do'wn in 
 a swoon on her husband's pale and apparently 
 lifeless body. 
 
 " Wait a little. The murder has not yet 
 begiui," answered Judge Paschal, who had 
 often previously witnessed such bloody 
 spectacles. 
 
 Again the bugle yelled forth a third sound, 
 and drew larger crowds into the arena, and 
 again the ball soared like a bird loose fron^ 
 the hand. My eyes were directed to young 
 Runabout. I saw him start with the rapidity 
 of an arrow; but he had scarcely made two 
 leaps when he was caught by big Jim Starr, 
 who commenced dragging him backwards. 
 The ensuing struggle needed only the descrip- 
 tion of a Homer to embalm it with the 
 sublime. The antagonists, clinched in the 
 
 iron, Indian hug, writhing and twistiug like 
 two angry serpents linked in the coils of 
 mortal strife, swayed to and fro for more than 
 a minute, then falling lieavily, to the amaze- 
 ment of everybody, Runabout was uppermost. 
 His success, however, proved only momentary ; 
 for quick as thought Starr turned him and 
 grasped his throat, arose, pulled him to the 
 circumference of the ring, and then threw 
 him, with his blackish-purple face and strain- 
 ed, bloodshot eyes, like a lump of lead over 
 the ropes. 
 
 "Score down forty for Big Jim Starr!" 
 cried the marshal. 
 
 Such was the custom of the game. He who 
 could foi'ce his adversary oyer the ropes 
 acquired the right to his mark on the ledger. 
 
 It so happened that Runabout fell on the 
 outside of the ring, near the cedar post against 
 which Horace Jordan had been all the while 
 leaning, surveying silently the progress of the 
 game. The sight of his. sister's lover, or per- 
 haps some slight look of scorn on the young 
 lawyer's features, aroused all the cherished 
 hatred and venom of the victor, and he fairly 
 shouted : 
 
 " Base pettifogger I you can gaze on the 
 sports of brave men, but dare not, for your 
 coward's soul, take part in the game of glory !" 
 
 " I dare !" was the ringing response of 
 Horace Jordan, as he cleared the ropes at a 
 leap. 
 
 The American stood in the arena of the 
 Indian gladiators. Stripping instantly to the 
 trowsers, and tying a red silk handkerchief 
 around him, he was prepared for the desperate 
 game. 
 
 " See ! Emma Starr is fainting !" exclaimed 
 my friend. 
 
 Glancing suddenly at the carriage, I beheld 
 that sweet, mild face, white as linen, and her 
 beautiful little hands clasped convulsively on 
 her bosom, as if to keep back the heart from 
 bursting. The agony, however, seemed to 
 pass in a moment, and she continued to look 
 calmly afterwards on the swift-changing 
 scenes, with cheeks pallid as marble, down 
 which tears flowed and fell in slow, even, 
 measured drops, each drop recording a minute 
 of speechless sorrow. 
 
 Orice more the bugle sounded, and this 
 time three loud, lingering blasts. 
 
 " Xow comes the general melee, most per- 
 ilous of all. Each man who tosses his oppo- 
 nent over the ropes wins a score of five," 
 remarked Judge Paschal. 
 
 The arena then presented the appearance 
 
A Cherokee Ball-Play and Duel. 
 
 171 
 
 of fifty different combats. By couples all the 
 hundred gladiators had closed; they were 
 tugging and straining to haul each other from 
 the ring. Some had grabbed their antagonists 
 by the hair, and were hauling them along in 
 the dust; others had fastened their fingers 
 with a grip of steel on yielding windpipes, 
 endeavoring thus to choke their foes into 
 non-resistance; while others seized suddenly 
 some unsuspecting right hand, and strove by 
 a quick jerk to dislocate the shoulder joint 
 from its socket; and others still, stooping 
 suddenly, caught the foot of the athlete, and 
 casting him headlong to the ground," dragged 
 the poor wretch off towards the ropes. Every 
 method of annoyance was fair except strokes 
 with the fists or injuries to the eye. But 
 what surprised me most of all, although 
 dozens must have been suffering tortures 
 worse than the pangs of death, not a cry of 
 pain was heard, such is the marvellous power 
 of education, such the infinite force of habit. 
 
 " Score five for Eufus Boss, five for Kinny 
 Davis, five for Big Jim Starr, and five for 
 Horace Jordan !" escftiimed the marshal, in 
 quick succeeding orders, as the tempestuous 
 tumult still proceeded without intermission. 
 
 Foremost of all the strife might be seen the 
 two deadly enemies, Starr and Jordan, throw- 
 ing feebler men over the ropes as if they had 
 been so many infants. Jordan, however, 
 avoided any immediate encounter with his 
 adversary, and to every offer of the sort by 
 the other, replied aloud, " Wait till the ring 
 shall be cleared of all but us two. and then 
 you shall be gratified." And still the wild 
 "work went on till three long hours rolled 
 away, and at length only twelve champions 
 remained iu the arena; for those once 
 ejected were not permitted to return, and 
 many who had fainted from sheer exhaustion 
 had been removed by their friends. 
 
 Of the dozen left in the ring, one half con- 
 sisted of the brave, bad brothers. The others, 
 with the exception of the young lawyer, were 
 full-blooded Cherokee^, inured to toil from 
 their cradles, and utterly insensible to fear. 
 
 With the next peal of the signal the gladi- 
 ators again closed. All eyes were attracted 
 to the combat now joined between the 
 gigantic Starr and the slender, sinewy Jordan, 
 as a, sharp cry from the carriage of Emma 
 attested her horror of the dreadful vision. 
 
 The two foes grappled first in the danger- 
 ous Indian hug, or " back hold," as it is 
 usually called. Big Jim. from the fury of his 
 onset, seemed to think he could crush in the 
 
 ribs or crack the spine of his antagonist with 
 a single effort; but the youth's- frame was 
 born to be as elastic as steel. It bent almost 
 double without losing its balance, and then 
 rebounding broke open the locks of those 
 horny, herculean arms, and stood erect and 
 free as before the bitter embrace. 
 
 A deafening shout from the previously 
 silent spectators hailed the prodigious 
 achievement, and Big Jim himself looked 
 astonished at the feat. He paused, however, 
 but a moment, and again springing forward, 
 the arms of the two encircled each other's 
 bosoms like hoops of iron. Again the form 
 of Jordan bent as a willow in the wind, and 
 then again recovering, broke open the mon- 
 strous lock. A renewed shout rent the air, 
 accompanied by cries of " Big Jim has mot 
 his match] Huzza for the man that can 
 break the black bear's hug !" 
 
 The Ajax of the arena heard the exclama- 
 tions of rejoicing, and the sound seemed to 
 madden him the more. Makiiig a clutch 
 with his huge, bony fingers, he succeeded in 
 grasping his opponent's throat, but at the 
 same instant felt the other fixed on his own 
 windpipe. Hanging on and tugging at each 
 other's necks like unconquerable bull-dogs, 
 the two champions reeled from side to side 
 during some minutes, till both, turning purple 
 in the face, fell together gasping in the hot 
 dust. Then relaxing their weary fingers, they 
 regained their feet and stood for several 
 seconds apart, panting for breath, yet still 
 scowling dark and dreadful defiance. 
 
 "Let us fight with brave men's tools T 
 cried Big Jim, fairly frenzied with rage. 
 
 "Any you please," was the laconic answer. 
 
 "Then let us have bowie-knives, and let 
 our left hands be fastened together," said the 
 desperado, with a frown of a fiend incarnate. 
 
 "I am content with your proposition,"' was 
 the brief response of Jordan. 
 
 At this unexpected change in the mode of 
 combat, the excitement grew boundless. The 
 other gladiators suspended their strife, and 
 the beholders began to make their bets — some 
 laying large wagers that Big Jim would kill 
 his enemy, pthers staking their money on 
 Jordan, and others on death agahist both. 
 
 I cast a glance towards the beautiful 
 Emma— only one glance. I dared not hazard 
 another, she looked so like a statue of despair 
 carved in snow-white alabaster. Her eyes 
 were motionless, fixed on the horrible ring, 
 where a brother, or a lover, or perhaps both, 
 were ,about to be hewn in pieces with mur- 
 
172 
 
 A Cherokee Ball-Flay and Duel. 
 
 derous knives. Her lips were livid and rigid as 
 that of a corpse that had been dead for days. 
 
 I turned avpay from an apparition so ghost- 
 like to the arena, where rapid preparati(jn3 
 were being made for the duel. I saw the 
 seconds bind the left hands of their principals 
 hard and fast together with a small hempen 
 cord, and place in the hands of each a gleam- 
 ing bowie-knife of the largest size, and with 
 an edge as keen as a razor; and I saw — and 
 felt the very marrow creep with icy coldness 
 in my bones at the sight — the mortal foes 
 standing eyeing each other witli calm, deter- 
 mined faces, in whose mirror only one expres- 
 sion could be detected — measureless and 
 unutterable bate, but no shrinking token of 
 terror. They were waiting for the word to 
 begin. 
 
 Such unnatural modes of duelling are 
 common on the frontier among both whites 
 and Indians, and result chiefly from two 
 causes; first, they put the weak or unprac- 
 tised on a footing of perfect equality with the 
 most skillful adepts in the art of slayhig; 
 second, reckless men, conscious of total supe- 
 riority to the fear of death, appear to delight 
 in demonstrating their bravery by iiishing 
 into the jaws of certain destruction. Such 
 men often die with a smile of scornful triumph 
 on their features — die, in fact, because they 
 wish to die. Having been long accustomed 
 to the work of slaughter, they contract an 
 insane love for it, for its own sake alone. It 
 is difficult to make persons comprehend the 
 motives prompting to these mutual suicides 
 who have never lived in such meridians — 
 meridians where duels with double-barrelled 
 shot-guns are of yearly occurrence, where 
 men fight not unfrequently in dark rooms at 
 midnight with dagger or pistol, where thgy 
 clasp hands and walk off beetling precipices, 
 or leap together into the depths of foaming 
 rivers and hold each other's heads under 
 water till both sink down into fathomless 
 gulfs, which are their graves — in fine, where 
 foes contrive for themselves more methods of 
 wildly-insane homicide than ever did infatu- 
 ated lovers in the pages of a French romance. 
 I had become pretty well acquainted with 
 such scenes in Texas and Arkansas, and yet 
 could not forbear trembling in every limb as 
 I saw those two youths, who ought to have 
 been and had very nearly been brothers, 
 standing there waiting for the word that 
 should be the knell of their funeral and their 
 summons to the judgment-bar of the Almighty. 
 Yes, standing in the broad noon blaze of '• the 
 
 all-seeing sun," with the gaze of thousands of 
 eyes set upon their unfeeling faces, with the 
 sky they might never look on more so bright 
 above, and flowers beneath so golden, and the 
 little birds singing their I'oundelays, and they, 
 with great knives drawn back, ready, ready, 
 waiting to plunge into eternity ! 
 
 '•Are you ready?" asked George Sanders, 
 Big Jim's second, in a voice ringing over the 
 Looliing-glass Praiiie clear as the tones of 
 bell metal. 
 
 " Ready !" tliey both answered, with thrill- 
 ing distinctness, in the same breath. 
 
 " Then go ahead !"' was the coarse, savage 
 word. 
 
 And at the word, two fierce thrusts were 
 made at two wami, beating hearts — human 
 hearts, too, reader, like yours and mine, only 
 braver, perhaps — and tAvo long, keen knives 
 pierced two bleeding sides. The fii-st wounds, 
 however, were not mortal, at least, not imme- 
 diately so; for other blows followed, and steel 
 clashed against steel, and the combatants still 
 continued to battle on till their bodies were 
 bathed in a baptism of fresh blood, and finally 
 both staggered and fell forward at the same 
 moment, first to t-lieir knees, and then on their 
 faces, with their cheeks almost touching. 
 
 Then a wild, unearthly, wailing scream 
 issued from the carriage on the mound. 
 Another, also, had fallen, and with a sharper 
 pain in the heart than ever emanated from 
 the point of a bowie-knife. The beautiful 
 Emma had fainted. 
 
 The seconds cut asunder the cords fmni 
 the left hands of the antagonists, and it was 
 found that Big Jim Starr had gone to his 
 long home ; but Horace Jordan, although 
 frightfully mangled, soon revived, and my 
 friend and I hurried him from the place as 
 soon as possible, for fear of the vengeance of 
 the other brothers. "U'e carried him across 
 the line into Arkansas, where, after long suf- 
 fering, he recovered. Shortly after his recov- 
 ery, the lovely Miss Emma Starr was missing 
 from the Cherokee nation. I think it h;is 
 been vaguely hinted that she and her husband 
 Horace Jordan are living happily together in 
 a Texas town. 
 
 "But has the story no moral ?" interrogates 
 the critic. 
 
 Ay, it has a gi'eat and useful moral if rizTitly 
 expounded. It proves that the fear of death 
 — that phan tom horror which haunts the doors 
 and darkens the firesides of civilized life — is, 
 after all, not an unconquerable instinct, but a 
 fictitious adjunct of education. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00032205658 
 
 FOR USE ONLY IN 
 THE NORTH CAROLINA COLLECTION