The Kentucky Ranger
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Edward T. Curnick >> The Kentucky Ranger
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Here the woman's emotions overcame her, and she would have fallen from
her chair had not Judge LeMonde caught her. He hastened to a table and,
filling a glass with water, brought it to her. This revived her, and
again she sat up straight with the blazing fire in her eyes.
The Judge tried to comfort her, saying: "Be composed, woman, and finish
your story, and I will help you all I am able."
Jemima replied: "I did not cum here to git help, but revenge. Sam
Wiles, Zibe Turner, and der crowd have bin busy for a long time makin'
'licit whisky. I know whar dey make and store it, and I'm willin' to
tell you'uns how to git to de place."
"To discover where their still is will greatly please the revenue
officers," said Judge LeMonde, "but won't you get yourself into trouble
if you tell on your friends?"
"Dey ain't my friens'," she fiercely replied. "I cast off de hull lot;
and as to trouble nuthin' can't be so hard to bear as de load I carries
now. I wish in my soul I war dead."
Again her feelings almost overcame her; but the Judge spoke kindly to
her, and in a few minutes she recovered her composure once more. He
then requested her to continue her story.
"Dey make der whisky in Wind Cave," she said and proceeded to describe
its location as recorded in a former chapter. "To capture de 'shiners
and de whisky de officers must 'sprise both openin's to onct," she
continued.
The Judge asked: "Would you be willing to tell me how to find the two
ways into the cave?"
"I would tell anything to git even with Sam Wiles," was the reply.
"I am sure the capture of these lawbreakers will be a blessing to all
this part of Kentucky," remarked Judge LeMonde, "but I am sorry for the
reason you have to tell where they may be found."
At this point he got writing material and, asking the woman clearly to
describe the way to the cave's mouths, he wrote as she dictated. We
will write the account in her own words: "De big openin' is 'bout
twenty feet below de top of Bald Knob. You'uns 'member you'uns kin see
from de knob's foot his bald head, whar is great rocks and not ary
trees. Well, de cave's mouf is in er straight line below dat twenty
feet. To fin' de odder openin' you'uns walk from de rocky head of de
knob 'long his backbone east for 'bout one hundred feet, and you'uns
cum to a tall poplar tree. Go down de hill to de souf fifteen feet, and
you'uns'll find a thicket full of brambles, bushes, and leaves. De hole
is dar, covered with underbrush and leaves."
Having thanked her for the important information given, Judge LeMonde
courteously led her to the door and bade her good evening.
Early next morning he took steps to profit by what he had heard. He
sent his son George to tell Jasper Very the news while he himself rode
to the county seat to notify the sheriff and revenue officers of the
outlaw's rendezvous. That very day a keen, trusted employee of the
government was deputed to go over the ground and learn whether the
woman's story were true or false. In a day or two he reported that he
had discovered the two openings to the cave. It was known that the
attempt to capture the moonshiners would be dangerous. They were
fearless, desperate men, well armed. It would require skill and courage
to take them.
The sheriff and chief revenue officers, knowing that the moonshiners
were so formidable in arms, numbers, and location, were anxious to have
as large an attacking party as possible. Hence they were glad when Long
Tom, Jasper Very, honest David Hester and his sons, Hans Schmidt, the
German, John Larkin, George LeMonde, and others were sworn in as
constables.
Long Tom's case was peculiar. We will let him put it in his own
drawling tones: "Friens, it am like dis. Though I has bin a Christian
for months, I could not bring myself to gib away de hidin' places of my
ol' pals. It looked too much like treachery and betrayal. P'raps I'm
wrong but, if so, you'uns will pardon me. But now de case am diffrunt.
Thar hidin' place am knowd, an' it is for de good of de neighborhood
an' der own good dat dese men should be caught an' der bizness brok up,
an' I'm willin' to be one to bring dis about. So I jine yer company,
not to kill dose men, but to try to save der souls."
It was decided to divide the attacking company into two parts, one to
approach the large opening of the cave and the other the smaller one.
Larkin, Grimes and the Hester men were with the former crowd, and Long
Tom, Jasper Very, George LeMonde, and Hans Schmidt with the latter. All
felt that the best way to begin the attack was to take the moonshiners
by surprise, and it was thought that early morning was the most
favorable hour, when the outlaws would probably be asleep.
Soon after midnight of a Wednesday morning the men gathered noiselessly
at the knob's base, having left their horses far up the road. Just as
the first streaks of day were appearing the two groups of men about one
hundred feet apart began climbing the steep elevation. The slope was
fully forty-five degrees, and in some parts much steeper. The men had
to brace their feet against trees and saplings, and near the top to
pull themselves up by holding on to branches of trees and shrubs above
them.
At last the larger party reached the level, which, extending inward,
formed the floor of the cave. The revenue officer peered over the top
and saw a man with a rifle by his side asleep with his back braced
against a wall. He was near the cave's mouth. Farther he could dimly
behold the forms of men lying along the sides of the cave. A smoldering
fire was beneath the still, which stood some fifteen feet from the
entrance.
The officer gave the signal to advance, and sprang upon the ledge with
several others. At the same instant the sleeping sentinel awoke, taking
in the situation at a glance, seized his rifle and attempted to fire
it; but before he could do so the revenue officer was upon him like a
tiger upon his prey. Though he could prevent the firing, he could not
control the voice, and the man gave one mighty shout, which awoke every
sleeper as though the crack of doom had come. They all sprang up in
amazement and confusion, and just at this moment the leader called out,
"Surrender!" The attacking party, close to their commander's heels,
rushed into the cave, and before the outlaws could offer resistance
sprang upon them and overpowered most of them.
But Wiles, Turner, and a few others were not to be caught so easily.
They were sleeping farther in the cave, and, though awakened so
suddenly, did not lose their wits and nerve. They jumped to their feet,
and the answer they gave to the summons to surrender was a blaze of
rifles, with an instant retreat into the darkness of the cave. The
noise of the rifles' discharge reverberated in the cavern like repeated
rolls of thunder.
The leader's hat was pierced by a ball, one of his deputies fell shot
through the lungs, and honest Hester's second son, Edward, shot through
the brain, sank at his father's feet a corpse.
Before the echoes of these shots died away another volley rang out,
fired into the darkness at the retreating outlaws. It wounded two or
three of them, but most escaped, having turned a corner of the cave
before the bullets struck.
Those unhurt, led by Wiles and Turner, made their way as fast as
possible through the darkness to the second opening, for they had no
idea that this too had been made known to their pursuers. It was their
intention to rush into the forest and then, scattering in several
directions, to elude pursuit, and thus escape. Their very precipitency
saved some of them in this way. The second company was in its place
near the second opening when the men heard the shots of the first
attack. Rightly surmising that the moonshiners would try to escape
through the second aperture, the men on guard were ready to fire; but
they were not prepared to see the renegades rush through the underbrush
so swiftly, and, not wishing to shoot them down in cold blood, the
leader called: "Halt! Halt! Surrender!"
The outlaws were startled by the cry; but, being desperate, most of
them gave no heed to the words. Bending low, they ran with great
rapidity to the shelter of the great tree trunks which rose everywhere
around. However, some were too late, and the volley which was fired
slew several and wounded others.
Wiles, Turner, and three others succeeded in getting behind trees
without being injured. The monster dwarf was terrible to behold. He had
the quickness of a cat and the fury of a lion. Though the odds were so
much against him and the rest, he yelled defiance at the revenue men
and volunteers, and cursed them with bitter oaths. They resorted to
Indian tactics. They shot from behind trees at any man in sight, and
soon had wounded a number. However, the struggle was unequal, for the
revenue officer sent his men out in the form of a fan, and thus they
would soon have succeeded in making an enfilading fire upon the
moonshiners; and the latter could not retreat rapidly, because in
running from tree to tree they were in danger of being shot. Besides,
in a short time their ammunition was exhausted, and they were at the
mercy of their pursuers. When called upon to surrender, all but Wiles
and Turner complied. These refused.
Then spoke Long Tom with his well known drawl: "Pardners, it would be
nuthin' but murder to kill defenseless men, an' I move dat we'uns
surround 'em an' bind 'em an' tote 'em off to jail."
This advice was heeded, and Long Tom was the first to move forward. The
monster dwarf stood like a wild beast at bay with his clubbed rifle in
his hand. As Long Tom came near he swung it with terrible force,
attempting to break his adversary's skull; but Tom was too quick and
the blow passed by. Instantly Long Tom caught the dwarf around the arms
to hold those members, for he well knew their power. But in a moment
Turner, like a snake, twisted his right arm loose, and reaching under
his short coat, drew out a sharp hunting knife, and hissing the words,
"Traitor! Dat's my holt," between his clenched teeth, drove it into the
back of the reformed moonshiner.
One man, however, had been on the alert for some dastardly act of the
dwarf. This was young George LeMonde. Ever since his horse had been
stolen, and his sister had been kidnapped, he was on his guard against
this man for himself and his friends. So now, while the struggle
between the two men was going on, George was standing with his rifle
ready for use. He saw the flash of the knife, the descending stroke,
and knowing the design, made his rifle speak, only a moment too late to
save Long Tom. The bullet sped on its way and penetrated the brain of
the dwarf, and the two men fell to the ground locked in each other's
arms.
In the meantime a crowd had surrounded Sam Wiles, who had backed up
against a giant oak tree and stood holding his rifle by its barrel,
determined to sell his life as dearly as possible. Again Jasper Very
became his good angel. In a firm voice he pleaded with his companions
not to redden their hands with a fellow creature's blood.
However, some resisted his plea. One planter cried: "You saved his
worthless life once before and said the law would punish him. How has
he been punished! By shooting down some of our best neighbors. I say a
bullet ought to let daylight through his onery carcass, and I'll be the
one to fire it." With this remark he raised his gun to his shoulder and
pulled the trigger; but before the weapon went off Jasper knocked the
barrel up in the air, and the lead went flying among the leaves.
"Man, that was a reckless and cowardly act," expostulated Very. "It is
true Wiles escaped from prison, but he will not do so again. He will be
more closely guarded, and if he is found guilty of murder, will be
properly punished." Then, turning to Wiles, he said: "You see, Wiles,
resistance is useless, and by showing it you will throw your life away.
Surely you are not ready for death, and I beseech you to lay down your
rifle and submit to be made a prisoner."
Life is sweet, even to ruffians at bay, and Wiles, changing his
decision, made with Turner not to be taken alive, said: "If you fellers
will not hurt me, I'll put myself in yer hands." The crowd consenting,
Jasper Very promised that no harm should be done him, and then Wiles
threw down his weapon and a constable placed handcuffs upon him.
In the fighting Wiles and Turner had become separated more than a
hundred feet, so that the crowd which arrested Wiles did not know of
the tragedy by the other tree. When they came up with their prisoner,
they saw the two men lying in the shade of an oak. Some one had thrown
a coat over Turner's body.
When Jasper Very looked upon Long Tom, he knew that death was near. His
eyes were becoming glassy and his sallow cheeks were of an ashen hue.
That mysterious shadow thrown by the wings of the approaching death
angel settled on his face. John Larkin was kneeling over him, trying to
administer what ease and comfort he could. He was suffering great pain,
but he bore it with utmost patience. Jasper Very was greatly moved at
the sight. Kneeling by his side, he took his knotted and powerful hand
in one of his and rubbed it gently with the other. Tears came to his
eyes as he saw this rough but reclaimed moonshiner in his last agony.
The sufferer spoke, and his naturally slow speech was slower still;
"Good-by, cumrades, I'm goin' home. Long Tom has lived a wicked life;
but God is merciful, an' he has put away all my sins. I ax pardon of
all I hev hurt, an' forgive ary who has harmed me." Then his mind began
to wander, and he thought himself in the church where he had found
peace in his soul. "You'uns is right, Preacher Very, whisky makin',
sellin' an' drinkin' is wrong; and I'll quit it for good frum dis night
on. O dat sweet music, how good it makes me feel!
'Jesus, Lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly.
Safe into the haven guide,
O receive my soul at last.'
"Hush! Dey air singin' ag'in, an' how her sweet voice leads all de rest:
'Other--refuge--have--I--none;
Hangs--my--helpless--soul--on--thee.'
"Dat--is--my--prayer--my--only--hope. Long--Tom
will--go--home--home--to--God--on--dat--prayer."
He straightened his tall form on the grassy slope under the kindly
shadow of the mighty oak. A look of peace and pure content came into
his face, as though he were glad to have his discharge; he gave one
look through the leafy top of the tree, as if beholding some form in
the upper air, then slowly closed his eyes. A shiver ran through his
frame, a gargle in his throat, a gasp from his lips, and all was over.
In low reverent tones John Larkin said: "Blessed are the dead which die
in the Lord."
Again the captain of the moonshiners, Sam Wiles, was taken to the
county jail. This time he did not escape. In process of time he and the
other prisoners were tried for the illicit distilling of whisky, were
found guilty, and sentenced to the penitentiary at Frankfort for a term
of years. The charge of murder was not pressed against them. So they
pass from this history.
CHAPTER XXIV.
"I Thee Wed."
The golden month of September saw Viola much improved in health. Her
wound had healed nicely, thanks to her strong constitution and to the
care she had received from the physician and nurse. Now she was rapidly
convalescing, and as the fine autumn days went by she was able to ride
in her carriage, and even visit the mission school, though unable to
teach her class of girls.
By Christmas time the roses had indeed reappeared in her cheeks, and
her step was almost as elastic as ever. June found her fully restored
to health. This month was to be forever memorable to her, for her
wedding to Jasper Very was set for the eighteenth day.
The whole plantation was in a fever of excitement quite a while before
the event was to transpire. All was bustle and commotion. Every one
seemed to have a personal interest in the affair. The slaves talked and
sang about it as they worked in the fields, and renewed the gossip in
the evening around their cabin doors.
Aunt Nancy, the cook, attired in a dress spotlessly clean, a bright red
bandanna tied around her head, was more pompous and dictatorial than
ever. Her helpers had been increased for the event, and she issued her
commands with a force which would have done credit to a skipper on a
quarter-deck. Often she scolded those around her, but her anger was
more apparent than real, and while she smote right and left with one
hand, with the other soon after she patted and petted the object of her
wrath.
To her children: "You, Dick and Jim, git away frum under my feet. If
yo' little niggers don't cl'ar out frum dis room, ah'll beat yer wooly
heads togedder. How kin Ah see dat dis cake gits jest de right brown,
if yo' keep askin' me fer cookies an' things! Take dat--boxing their
ears--an' march out doors."
The boys ducked a second blow, and rushing into the yard, each turned a
somersault, and grinned the content he felt. Then they began to sing:
"O Miss Lu! sugar in 'er shoe,
Show me de hole whar de hog jump fru."
For days the preparations for the marriage feast went on. Such baking,
boiling, and every form of cooking, was never seen in "Mount Pisgah"
before.
Judge and Madam LeMonde had many things to occupy hand and brain, but
still they gave much thought to the time when they should be parted
from their only daughter. She and George were the idols of their
hearts. To lose one from the home even to gain a preacher-son was an
experience bringing pain and sorrow. Still their judgment confirmed
the step; for, if they were to have the sadness of separation, they
were to have the deep satisfaction of giving their daughter to a
greater service.
Miss Viola was busy most of the time preparing her trousseau. Many of
the garments were made to order in Lexington, but much fancy work on
delicate fabrics was done by the bride-to-be.
The great day dawned at last. A holiday had been given to all the
slaves on the plantation. The Judge decided to spare no expense in
making the occasion as pleasant as possible. He had instructed his
black people to have a barbecue at their quarters. Some of our readers
are benighted as to the meaning of that great word. How shall we
enlighten their ignorance? Words are insufficient to set forth the joy
and glory of this feast. We may try our best, but much must be left
unrecorded.
Two very long wooden tables were stretched on the ground behind the
slaves' cabins, under the splendid natural forest trees which Kentucky
boasted. The day before an ox was killed, and a deep pit dug in the
ground. Early on the eighteenth, the ox was suspended in this hole and
a great fire lighted under the carcass. There for hours the body
roasted in its own fat. Besides the ox, succulent roasting pigs were
cooked whole, chickens were prepared in various ways. All vegetables
common to the season were gotten ready in unlimited abundance. Bread
enough for all and much to spare appeared on the tables. Pies and cakes
of many kinds lay in beautiful companionship with the other good
things. Steaming coffee in abundance for all was on hand. And plenty of
"Adam's ale"--pure spring water.
This barbecue feast was to be eaten after the marriage ceremony was
performed.
The wedding feast for the white folks was spread on tables which had
been placed under the pine trees some distance east of the great
mansion. It was impossible to accommodate all the invited guests in the
dining-room of the house, and Viola decided to have the dinner served
in the open air under the trees. As to the quality and quantity of this
feast it is only necessary to say that Aunt Dinah and her satellites
had been preparing it for days, and the proud cook was intending to
stake her reputation as to ability on it for all time to come. The
result was worthy of the effort she had made.
On the morning of the eighteenth came the great event. Let us try to
picture the scene. It was to be an open air wedding. Viola had
requested that all the colored people be permitted to witness the
ceremony. There were hundreds of them, big and little, old and young.
They were disposed by Mose and others under the pine trees nearest to
the river.
Grouped nearer to the mansion were the members of the mission school,
many planters and their families, some guests from Lexington and other
places. Just by the pavement in front of the piazza a chair had been
provided for Madam LeMonde.
The principals in the ceremony were in a bedroom upstairs.
And now the strains of a wedding march floats out over the great
company, played by a pianist from Paducah.
With slow and measured step the wedding party descend the broad
stairway. We see Susanna Spink walking before. In her hand is a basket
of magnificent roses. These with leaves of others she strews in the way
before the approaching persons.
First come George LeMonde, best man, and Miss Stella Nebeker,
bridesmaid, with her arm linked in his. Then follow arm in arm Rev.
Jasper Very, bridegroom, and Rev. John Larkin, the officiating
minister. In the rear we behold the lovely bride, Miss Viola LeMonde,
beautifully dressed, leaning upon the arm of her father, Judge LeMonde.
Under the shadow of the pine trees, near the piazza, the wedding
company take position, and the ceremony begins.
The minister asks: "Who gives the bride away?" The Judge replies: "I
give the bride away," and he walks to the rear while the bride steps to
the side of the bridegroom. The ceremony, brief but most impressive, is
conducted according to the ritual of the church, and the minister
solemnly pronounces them husband and wife.
Presently the black people under the leadership of Mose and others go
to their quarters to enjoy the great barbecue feast. The white people
are invited to take seats around the loaded tables placed under the
pines trees. As we glance over the company we behold many kind friends
whom we have met in the course of this narrative. A large number from
the mission school were there, including the whole Spink family, and
some members of the Sneath and Wiles families. They were under the care
of Miss Henrietta Harvey, who was now their capable and devoted
superintendent.
Jolly Costello Nebeker and his good lady were present. He seemed to
thrive in every way by running his tavern on cold water principles. His
hearty, hilarious laugh was as contagious as the measles. Honest David
Hester and his folks were given seats near the head of the table. The
other planters were also well represented: Abner Hunt, the fiery little
man from down river, and Hans Schmidt, the large, fair-faced German,
with several others. Hiram Sanders, the herculean blacksmith of
Bridgewater, had a place at the table.
When the great feast was nearly over and ices were being served, Judge
LeMonde arose and thus spoke: "Dear friends, I do not wish to interrupt
the meal, neither do I wish to make a speech, only to say that Madam
LeMonde and myself count this one of the greatest days of our lives. It
surely has a tinge of sorrow in it but the joy far surpasses the
sadness. I am very glad indeed to behold you enjoying the felicities of
the occasion. There is a bit of the program to take place that nobody
on the grounds knows anything about except Mrs. LeMonde and myself. I
request at this time that my son George go to the slaves' gathering and
bring back with him my servant Mose."
Without a moment's hesitation George started to do the errand his
father asked. By the time the ices had disappeared the white man and
the black man came on to the lawn. A look of curiosity and wonder
passed over the company, and all gazed in the direction of the Judge
and his servant.
As to Mose he was much taken aback. He appeared confused and
bewildered. He thought it was not possible that his master would blame
him for neglecting some duty or doing a bad deed on such a day and
before such a company.
The Judge, calling his servant to come near, arose and said: "I have
decided on this memorable occasion to repay in some measure the
devotion and sacrifice of a very faithful and trustworthy servant. I
have found Mose honest, obedient, kind, and always willing to do his
part of the work. More than this he has risked his life to protect his
young mistress from falling into the hands of desperate outlaws.
Because of this heroic endeavor I have decided, Mose, to set you free.
I hold in my hand the paper properly made out, and from this hour you
are free to go where you will. But we do not want to lose you from the
plantation. If you stay, I will pay you suitable wages for your work. I
will also give you three acres of good land near the negroes' quarters
and will build a nice frame house upon it. I am sure my daughter Viola
will be glad to furnish the house as a reward for the service you
rendered her. In due time you can bring the young woman to whom you are
engaged to the house as your bride.
"What do you say, Mose, will you go or stay?"
The poor black man was almost too overcome with emotion to answer a
word. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he could scarcely stand.
However, he managed to say: "Mas'r LeMonde, how kin Ah thank you fur
yo' kindness! Leave you an' dis plantation? Not while de sun shines in
de heavens. As Ah was willin' to die fer Miss Viola, I would any time
lay dow my life fer you, Judge, or ary one of de fambly."
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