Hard by the town a forest stands, dark with the shades
of time,
And they have sought that forest dark at morning's early
prime;
Lynch, backed by Nehemiah Dodge, and Silas with a
friend,
And half the town in glee came down to see that contest's
end.
They led their men two miles apart, they measured out
the ground;
A belt of that, vast wood it was, they notched the trees
around;
Into the tangled brake they turned them off, and neither
knew
Where he should seek his wagered foe, how get him into
view.
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With stealthy tread, and stooping head,
from tree to tree they passed,
They crept beneath the crackling furze, they
held their rifles fast:
Hour passed on hour, the noonday sun
smote fiercely down, but yet
No sound to the expectant crowd proclaimed
that they had met.
And now the sun was going down, when,
hark! a rifle's crack!
Hush—hush! another strikes the air,—and
all their breath draw back,—
Then crashing on through bush and briar,
the crowd from either side
Rush in to see whose rifle sure with blood
the moss has dyed.
Weary with watching up and down, brave Lynch con-
ceived a plan,
An artful dodge whereby to take at unawares his man;
He hung his hat upon a bush, and hid himself hard by;
Young Silas thought he had him fast, and at the hat let
fly.
It fell; up sprang young Silas,—he hurled his gun
away;
Lynch fixed him with his rifle, from the ambush where he
lay.
The bullet pierced his manly breast—yet, valiant to the
last,
Young Fixings drew his bowie-knife, and up his foxtail *
cast.