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to Bill Hughes's store and exchanged some deer-skins for "store truck "meal, and a jug of "Ole Recty," as he called it; that night screams were heard from Harris's cabin, and his boys told us "Dad hed been trainin' th' ole 'ooman with hick'ries," and as such cries were often heard, both from his wife and boys, Harris began to be shunn'd and hated. He was, when sober, silent and morose, and when in liquor (which was whenever he could get it), he was quarrelsome and fierce; he had fought several times with some of the villagers, and they were generally badly punished. Harris always carried his rifle and hunting-knife with him, which was a common thing in that country, though, as he lived just across the river, he had no use for them. A couple of snarling, ugly curs, always followed him, and he appeared to think more of them than of his children. The people of C

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-a were

anxious to get rid of him, as some of their hogs had strayed off, and hadn't returned, but they had not sufficient cause to give him a hint "to travel." They didn't have to wait long, though, for one day, while in liquor, he beat and nearly killed an old hunter who w was a general favourite with the settlers, having been in all the border wars with the red-skins.

Some dozen men met in Bill Hughes's store, and agreed to rid themselves of Harris at once; and forming themselves into a band of "Regulators," under Hughes and Bill Riley (a large powerful fellow), they laid their plans, and put them into execution at once. Two or three of them lounged in Demmit's store, where Harris was drinking and bantering the bystanders to fight. Bill Riley entered first, and as one of Harris's dogs stood convenient, Riley kicked in a few of his ribs, by way of a starter.

"Cuss you, Bill Riley, wot'd ye kick my dog fur? You'r the biggest man 'mong these yere suckers, but I ken jist knock the 'hind sites' orf er you, or ary other sneakin' devil in this crowd."

Bill was a peaceable, honest wood-cutter, and more than a match for Harris when he (Harris) was in liquor; but it was part of the plan for Bill and Harris to quarrel, or Bill would not have kicked his dog.

"Lay down that thar shootin'-iron en knife, and you shall swaller that ar lie or yer teeth, you hog-stealin' cus!"

"Hoopee! fact," sung out Bill Hughes. The tools were laid down on the counter, and they stepped out in front of the store and clinched. A western rough-and-tumble

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fight is understood generally to be a "bite and gouge " affair, and I will leave the description to the imagination of the reader. I never saw a fiercer, and hope I shall never see a more bloody one. Harris soon intimated that Bill needn't chaw his countenance any more, and that he'd got'nuff.

"I've licked you in a fair fight, Hank Harris, and now we're gwine to pay fer 'busin ole Uncle Nat. Come, boys."

"I'll make buzzard's bait of some on ye fust!" yelled Harris, as he sprang to the counter for his knife and pistol. They were gone!

The furious struggle that man made to free himself from the hands of the Regulators, were terrible. Young as I was at the time, I shall never forget them-he raved and cursed most horribly, and fairly foamed at the mouth.

"Boys, fetch some cat-line and a rail—a good sharp 'un," sang out Riley.

66 Yes, and a bar'l of tar and some feathers," said Hughes.

The two first were easily procured, but tar was not to be had, and as to feathers, the settlers in C-a were strangers to such luxuries; consequently, they were non comatibus in swampo.

"Boys," said Bill Hughes," go up to my store and roll down a bar'l of m'lasses: we'll sweeten this hunter of Kentuckey."

"He's gin many a hog the ear-ache," said another.

Harris said not a word, but his eyes looked the fierce rage that burned within him, while his teeth were hard set and lips compressed. The barrel of molasses was brought and the head stove in.

"Now, boys, pick cotton like Mississip' niggers, while we peal him," said Riley.

Peal'd, and with hands and feet tied,

Riley and Hughes lifted him and dipped him candlewise several times into the thick molasses.

"Now, then, shut pan, ole feller, or ye'll get sweetened inside and out," said Hughes, as Harris's feet cut a half circle in the air, and his head disappeared down in the barrel.

"You cussed suckers, will you strangle me?" he sputtered out when his head came to daylight.

"Wal, yes, putty much, not quite, I reckon," said one of the Regulators; and down went the bushy head again.

"Thar, you is sweetened!" said Riley. "Now, boys, we'll gin him a dressin'," and the little patches of cotton were plastered on thick.

"Thar, you look like a 'spectable white man, Hank Harris! A gen'lman in disguise," said Hughes.

"Jist rite for them Orleans fancy-dress. and masquerade balls," said another.

"If you don't keep a carriage, you shall travel by rail-road," said Bill Riley, as they seated him on the edge of the rail, and tied his hands and feet, and, with one on each side, trotted him about the village, giving him rather more jolting, however, than, as a passenger on a rail-road, he might expect,

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Thar, boys, we'll gin him a chance to pay his rent in Kentuck, and make swankey of the Ohio," said Hughes, as they placed him in a skiff, which they rowed to a sandbar near the other shore; here they tied him to an old snag, and placed his rifle (without a flint) and a knife beside him, and left him there the Ohio River rising eight inches an hour. As they started for the shore, the Regulators sang out

"You won't shoot nary nuther hog, Hank Harris!"

"Nor gouge ole Uncle Nat, I reckon." "You won't hick'ry your wife much more,

ole hoss!"

"Who's buzzards' bait now, Hank Harris?" "I'll gin yer dogs a pill as 'ill settle their.. stomicks for 'em, Hank."

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