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The Little Red Foot   By: (1865-1933)

The Little Red Foot by Robert W. Chambers

First Page:

THE LITTLE RED FOOT

BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS

AUTHOR OF "THE SLAYER OF SOULS," "THE COMMON LAW," "IN SECRET," "LORRAINE," ETC.

NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS

COPYRIGHT, 1920, 1921. BY THE INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TO MY SON ROBERT H. CHAMBERS

CONTENTS

I SIR WILLIAM PASSES 11

II TWO PEERS SANS PEERAGE 13

III THE POT BOILS 23

IV TWO COUNTRY MICE 32

V A SUPPER 40

VI RUSTIC GALLANTRY 51

VII BEFORE THE STORM 60

VIII SHEEP AND GOATS 68

IX STOLE AWAY 81

X A NIGHT MARCH 86

XI SUMMER HOUSE POINT 94

XII THE SHAPE IN WHITE 102

XIII THE DROWNED LANDS 113

XIV THE LITTLE RED FOOT 124

XV WEST RIVER 132

XVI A TROUBLED MIND 141

XVII DEEPER TROUBLE 151

XVIII FIRELIGHT 169

XIX OUT OF THE NORTH 177

XX IN SHADOW LAND 189

XXI THE DEMON 197

XXII HAG RIDDEN 207

XXIII WINTER AND SPRING 220

XXIV GREEN COATS 235

XXV BURKE'S TAVERN 253

XXVI ORDERS 267

XXVII FIRE FLIES 283

XXVIII OYANEH! 292

XXIX THE WOOD OF BRAKABEEN 309

XXX A LONG GOOD BYE 322

XXXI "IN THE VALLEY" 333

AFTERMATH 350

THE LITTLE RED FOOT

CHAPTER I

SIR WILLIAM PASSES

The day Sir William died there died the greatest American of his day. Because, on that mid summer evening, His Excellency was still only a Virginia gentleman not yet famous, and best known because of courage and sagacity displayed in that bloody business of Braddock.

Indeed, all Americans then living, and who since have become famous, were little celebrated, excepting locally, on the day Sir William Johnson died. Few were known outside a single province; scarcely one among them had been heard of abroad. But Sir William was a world figure; a great constructive genius; the greatest land owner in North America; a wise magistrate, a victorious soldier, a builder of cities amid a wilderness; a redeemer of men.

He was a Baronet of the British Realm; His Majesty's Superintendent of Indian Affairs for all North America. He was the only living white man implicitly trusted by the savages of this continent, because he never broke his word to them. He was, perhaps, the only representative of royal authority in the Western Hemisphere utterly believed in by the dishonest, tyrannical, and stupid pack of Royal Governors, Magistrates and lesser vermin that afflicted the colonies with the British plague.

He was kind and great. All loved him. All mourned him. For he was a very perfect gentleman who practiced truth and honour and mercy; an unassuming and respectable man who loved laughter and gaiety and plain people.

He saw the conflict coming which must drench the land in blood and dry with fire the blackened cinders.

Torn betwixt loyalty to his King whom he had so tirelessly served, and loyalty to his country which he so passionately loved, it has been said that, rather than choose between King and Colony, he died by his own hand.

But those who knew him best know otherwise. Sir William died of a broken heart, in his great Hall at Johnstown, all alone.

His son, Sir John, killed a fine horse riding from Fort Johnson to the Hall. And arrived too late and all of a lather in the starlight.

And I have never ceased marvelling how such a man could have been the son of the great Sir William... Continue reading book >>




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