The lost hunter: A tale of early times

by John Turvill Adams

"'Cause," said Primus, taking the money with eyes brightening at the sight, "'tween gen'lemen, de trifle was too small."

"Well, you're a curious chap. Now most folks would have dunned me right off for the damage. There's Tom Gladding', if he had a wooden leg, and I broke it, don't you suppose he'd make me settle before sunset next day? Besides the law was all on your side."

"I guess, Massa Gladding 'tend to business in his own way," said the now good-humored General, "but you, Squire, is an old 'quaintance, and you disappointment so great, I didn't like to mention de leg."

As soon as Primus uttered the word "Squire," Basset knew that the reconciliation between them was complete. The General never used the word in reference to his companion, except when pleased and desirous to pay a compliment, and was fully aware of the effect it produced. The constable, born and bred among a people fond of titles, and fond of giving them, was not exempt from the common weakness. He, however, thought it incumbent on him to disclaim the dignity, to which Primus answered, that if he were not a Squire he ought to be, and would be next year.

A tall figure, which, from the gait and dress, appeared to be that of Holden, was now seen approaching deliberately in the moonlight, and the constable addressed himself to the performance of his duty. It was thought best to allow the fugitive to pass the cabin, so that in the event of an attempt at evasion, which was not anticipated indeed, but which the prudent General thought ought to be guarded against, the difficulty of escape might be greater. As the man advanced, the constable was certain it was Holden. There was the long beard falling on his breast, and the grey frock girt with a sash; and had not the cap been pulled down low over his forehead, even the features might have been distinguishable.

After the person had passed, Basset cautiously opened the door and quietly stole after him, but, in spite of every precaution, it was impossible to move without making a sound on the crisp snow, easily heard in the still night. The person heard it, and turning his head, beheld the constable two or three rods in the rear. Basset observing him look round, quickened his pace, and advanced confidently to make the capture; but in the same proportion the figure hastened his steps. Thereupon the constable increased his speed, in which he was imitated by the other, until both pursuer and pursued were in a run.

It was now who should run the fastest. The race had hitherto been in the road, and Basset was evidently gaining on the fugitive, when, turning short, the latter jumped over some bars which had been left down, and directed his course across a field. The constable's blood was up, and without hesitation, he followed, every moment lessening the distance between himself and the chase. He could not help, as he ran, wondering at the agility of Holden, from whom, on account of his seeming age, he had not anticipated such activity, and ascribed it now to his greater length of limb, and habit of constant exercise and exposure. And now he was within a few feet of him, and extending his arm to place his hand on the captive's shoulder, when suddenly the ground gave way under his feet, and he was precipitated to an unknown depth, while the snow came tumbling down upon his head, blinding and covering him up, so as to leave him at first in total darkness. The astonished and confused constable, by dint of struggling and floundering about, succeeded at length in disencumbering himself of the superincumbent load of snow and cornstalks, and was able to form an idea of his situation. He found himself in a large hole, at a depth of six or seven feet below the surface of the ground, to escape from which every effort proved fruitless. In vain the entrapped Basset sprung up the sides again and again, and grasped at the snow, in hope to catch hold of some object on which to retain a hold; it yielded to his hands, and every time he fell back more and more exhausted. He endeavored to attract assistance by shouting, but it seemed as if his voice mounted no higher than to the top of the hole. He looked up. Nothing was to be seen but the moon gazing sadly upon him, and the stars winking at him their glittering eyes. Frightened and vexed, he threw himself upon the bottom of the hole, then got up, and dashing down his cap, stamped upon it in ungovernable rage, vowing vengeance against the traitor, Primus, who, he did not doubt, had led him into the snare. At first the violent exercise, and next vexation and resentment, kept him warm; but gradually the effect of the first passed off, and then the latter, without its aid, was found ineffectual to ward off the cold. The teeth of poor Basset began to chatter, and tears of anger and apprehension fell from his eyes. He started up, and again tried the walls of his prison, but they were too steep, and too slippery, to permit exit, and at last, with desperate calmness, he resigned himself to his fate, and awaited such result as Providence might send. The thought of starvation and freezing to death passed through his mind, but he was too fully convinced of the complicity of the black to believe he was ignorant of his condition, and satisfied that, however tricky, he intended no serious harm. There was comfort in the thought, and as these reflections prevailed he became more composed, while a sense of shame succeeded to that of despair. Shrugging himself together to keep warm, and lifting up his voice from time to time in a shout, if, perchance, some casual wayfarer might catch the sound, the constable waited for deliverance.

Meanwhile, Gladding, for it was no other, who personated the Solitary, and the General were cozily seated by the fire in the hut of the latter, discussing the events of the evening. The false beard was lying on a chair, and a large stone pitcher, containing cider, was placed near the centre of a table, on which the elbow of Tom was leaning, who, from time to time, replenished a mug with the liquor, which made frequent journeys to his mouth. The old General, with his pipe, was seated on the other side of the table, and appeared as fervent in his devotions to the pitcher as his guest.

"I tell you what, Prime," said Tom, "I come plaguy nigh tumbling in myself. I thought I marked the spot exactly, but somehow or other the snow light sort o' blinded me, and I stepped right on the edge, and had to spring for't like all natur'."

"Dat would a been fust rate, to catch two fox in one trap," said the General, the whites of whose eyes gleamed plainer than ever in the fire light at the thought.