The night has passed away, and the bright morrow has come.
Under a spreading old oak tree in the little valley where the matrimonially inclined outlaw had built his little shanty, could be seen a motley gathering, drawn together for the purpose of taking part in the wedding festivities of Cheeky Charley and his buxom bride.
Full blooded Indians, yellowish half-breeds, full blooded whites, a sprinkling of squaws and papooses, and one white woman, made up the crowd that gathered to witness the nuptials.
With their backs against the aforesaid widespreading old oak tree, well shaded by the far-reaching branches, sat two gentlemen of widely different color and nationality, united together most strongly by common bonds.
The bonds we speak of were figurative in point of fact, for the parties were Barney Shea and Pomp.
They were both prisoners in the hands of a common foe, and, additionally, they were both musicians.
Barney held his “darlint” fiddle against his breast, and sawed away with might and main, while Pomp, with his banjo on his knee, managed to pick a good tum to tum accompaniment to Barney’s fiddling.
In the clearing around them, many of the white men were having what is called a stag-dance—that is, a square dance without females.
“Music hath charms,” etc.