The Death Shot: A Story Retold

“All right! That accounts for the hul party. Now let’s back, and see what’s chanced to the rest o’ this ruffin crew. So, Jim Borlasse, good bye!”

With this odd leave taking, he turns away, wipes the blood from his bowie, returns it to its sheath, and once more climbing into his saddle, rides off to rejoin the victorious colonists.

On the ground where the engagement took place, a sad spectacle is presented. The smoke has drifted away, disclosing the corpses of the slain – horses as well as men. All the freebooters have fallen, and now lie astretch as they fell to stab or shot; some on their backs, others with face downward, or doubled sideways, but all dead, gashed, and gory – not a wounded man among them! For the colonists, recalling that parallel spectacle in the Mission courtyard, have given loose rein to the lex talionis, and exacted a terrible retribution.

Nor have they themselves got off unscathed. The desperadoes being refused quarter, fought it out to the bitter end; killing several of the settlers, and wounding many more; among the latter two known to us – Heywood and Dupré. By good fortune, neither badly, and both to recover from their wounds; the young Creole also recovering his stolen treasure, found secreted at the camp on Coyote creek.

Our tale might here close; for it is scarce necessary to record what came afterwards. The reader will guess, and correctly, that Dupré became the husband of Jessie, and Helen the wife of Clancy; both marriages being celebrated at the same time, and both with full consent and approval of the only living parent – Colonel Armstrong.

And on the same day, though at a different hour, a third couple was made man and wife; Jupe getting spliced to his Jule, from whom he had been so long cruelly kept apart.

It is some years since then, and changes have taken place in the colony. As yet none to be regretted, but the reverse. A Court-House town has sprung up on the site of the ancient Mission, the centre of a district of plantations – the largest of them belonging to Luis Dupré; while one almost as extensive, and equally as flourishing, has Charles Clancy for owner.

On the latter live Jupe and Jule; Jupe overseer, Jule at the head of the domestic department; while on the former reside two other personages presented in this tale, it is hoped with interest attached to them. They are Blue Bill, and his Phoebe; not living alone, but in the midst of a numerous progeny of piccaninnies.

How the coon-hunter comes to be there requires explanation. A word will be sufficient. Ephraim Darke stricken down by the disgrace brought upon him, has gone to his grave; and at the breaking up of his slave establishment, Blue Bill, with all his belongings, was purchased by Dupré, and transported to his present home. This not by any accident, but designedly; as a reward for his truthfulness, with the courage he displayed in declaring it.

Between the two plantations, lying contiguous, Colonel Armstrong comes and goes, scarce knowing which is his proper place of residence. In both he has a bedroom, and a table profusely spread, with the warmest of welcomes.

In the town itself is a market, plentifully supplied with provisions, especially big game – bear-meat, and venison. Not strange, considering that it is catered for by four of the most skilful hunters in Texas; their names, Woodley, Heywood, Hawkins, and Tucker. When off duty these worthies may be seen sauntering through the streets, and relating the experiences of their latest hunting expedition.

But there is one tale, which Sime, the oldest of the quartette, has told over and over – yet never tires telling. Need I say, it is the “Death Shot?”

The End