Table of Contents
Books by Roy Chandler
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About Roy Chandler
For:
Commander E. F. Chandler -
A Man !
Books by Roy Chandler
By Publication Date
All About a Foot Soldier, 1965
History of Early Perry County Guns and Gunsmiths (With Donald L. Mitchell), 1969
A History of Perry County Railroads, 1970
Alaskan Hunter: a book about big game hunting, 1972
Kentucky Rifle Patchboxes and Barrel Marks, 1972
Tales of Perry County, 1973
Arrowmaker, 1974
Hunting in Perry County, 1974
Antiques of Perry County, 1976
The Black Rifle, 1976
Homes, Barns and Outbuildings of Perry County, 1978
Shatto, 1979
The Perry County Flavor, 1980
Arms Makers of Eastern Pennsylvania, 1981
The Didactor, 1981
Fort Robinson: A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania, the years 1750-63, 1981
Friend Seeker: A novel of Perry County PA, 1982
Gunsmiths of Eastern Pennsylvania, 1982
Perry County in Pen & Ink, 1983
Shatto's Way: A novel of Perry County, Pa, 1984
Pennsylvania Gunmakers (a collection), 1984
Firefighters of Perry County, 1985
The Warrior, A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania 1721-1764, 1985
Perry County Sketchbook (And Katherine R. Chandler), 1986
A 30-foot, $6,000 Cruising Catamaran, 1987
The Gun of Joseph Smith (With Katherine R. Chandler), 1987
The Perry Countian, 1987
Hawk's Feather - An Adventure Story, 1988
Ted's Story, 1988
Alcatraz: The Hardest Years 1934-1938 (With Erville F. Chandler), 1989
Cronies, 1989
Song of Blue Moccasin, 1989
Chugger's Hunt, 1990
The Sweet Taste, 1990
Tiff's Game: A work of fiction, 1991
Tuck Morgan, Plainsman (Vol. 2) (With Katherine R. Chandler), 1991
Death From Afar I (And Norman A. Chandler), 1992
Kentucky Rifle Patchboxes All New Volume 2, 1992
Behold the Long Rifle, 1993
Death From Afar II: Marine Corps Sniping (And Norman A. Chandler), 1993
Old Dog, 1993
Tim Murphy, Rifleman: A novel of Perry County, Pa. 1754-1840, 1993
Choose the Right Gun, 1994
Death From Afar Vol. III: The Black Book (And Norman A. Chandler), 1994
The Kentucky Pistol, 1994
Ramsey: A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania, 1994
Gray's Talent, 1995
Hunting Alaska, 1995
Last Black Book, 1995
Dark Shadow (The Red book series), 1996
Death From Afar IV (And Norman A. Chandler, 1996
Morgan's Park (Vol. 3) (With Katherine R. Chandler), 1997
White Feather: Carlos Hathcock USMC scout sniper (And Norman A. Chandler), 1997
Death From Afar V (And Norman A. Chandler), 1998
Ironhawk: A frontier novel of Perry County Pennsylvania 1759-1765, 1999
Sniper One, 2000
One Shot Brotherhood (And Norman A. Chandler), 2001
Shooter Galloway, 2004
The Hunter's Alaska, 2005
The Boss's Boy, 2007
Pardners, 2009
Hawk's Revenge, 2010
Perry County, Pennsylvania series
History of Early Perry County Guns and Gunsmiths, 1969
A History of Perry County Railroads, 1970
Tales of Perry County, 1973
A History of Hunting in Perry County, 1974
Arrowmaker, 1974
Antiques of Perry County, 1976
The Black Rifle, 1976
Homes, Barns and Outbuildings of Perry County,1978
Shatto, 1979
The Perry County Flavor, 1980
The Didactor, 1981
Fort Robinson: A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania, the years 1750-63, 1981
Friend Seeker: A novel of Perry County PA, 1982
Perry County in Pen & Ink, 1983
Shatto's Way: A novel of Perry County, Pa, 1984
Chip Shatto: A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania, the years 1863-65, 1984
Firefighters of Perry County, 1982
Perry County Sketchbook, 1986
The Warrior, A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania, 1995
The Perry Countian, 1987
Hawk's Feather - An Adventure Story, 1988
Ted's Story, 1988
Cronies, 1989
Song of Blue Moccasin, 1989
The Sweet Taste, 1990
Tiff's Game: A work of fiction, 1991
Old Dog, 1993
Tim Murphy, Rifleman: A novel of Perry County, Pa, 1754-1840, 1993
Ramsey: A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania, 1994
Last Black Book, 1995
Gun of Joseph Smith series (Juvenile)
Gun of Joseph Smith, The (With Katherine R. Chandler), 1987
Tuck Morgan, Plainsman (Vol. 2) (With Katherine R. Chandler), 1991
Morgan's Park (Vol. 3) (With Katherine R. Chandler), 1997
Antique Guns
History of Early Perry County Guns and Gunsmiths (With Donald L. Mitchell), 1969
Kentucky Rifle Patchboxes and Barrel Marks, 1972
Arms Makers of Eastern Pennsylvania, 1981
Gunsmiths of Eastern Pennsylvania, 1982
Pennsylvania Gunmakers (a collection), 1984
Kentucky Rifle Patchboxes All New Volume 2, 1992
Behold the Long Rifle, 1993
The Kentucky Pistol, 1994
Hunting
Alaskan Hunter: a book about big game hunting, 1972
Choose the Right Gun, 1994
Hunting Alaska, 1995
The Hunter's Alaska, 2005
Sniper Series
Death From Afar I (And Norman A. Chandler), 1992
Death From Afar II: Marine Corps Sniping (And Norman A. Chandler), 1993
Death From Afar Vol. III: The Black Book (And Norman A. Chandler), 1994
Death From Afar IV (And Norman A. Chandler), 1996
White Feather: Carlos Hathcock USMC scout sniper (And Norman A. Chandler), 1997
Death From Afar V (And Norman A. Chandler), 1998
Sniper One (Iron Brigade series), 2000
One Shot Brotherhood (And Norman A. Chandler)
Children’s Books
All About a Foot Soldier, 1965
Publishers and Purveyors of Rare Books
100 Radcliffe Circle
Jacksonville, NC 28546
Tel:(910)455-3834
www.ironbrigadearmory.com
Printing History:
First: Bacon & Freeman Edition, 1976
Se
cond: Iron Brigade Armory, 2002
E-Book 2012
Title of this volume: The Black Rifle
Copyright © 1976 Roy F. Chandler
This is a work of fiction. The characters in this book and the situations depicted are the author’s creations. They did not exist, and they did not happen.
Introduction
The Black Rifle is the second book in my IBA frontier series. Unlike Arrowmaker, a saga of about seventy years, this tale covers only a little more than a year of adventure on the Pennsylvania frontier. This is an action story that emphasizes strong men doing what should be done. It is filled with survival lore and shooting techniques. The activities are accurate to the time, and if one wished, he could journey to Perry County, Pennsylvania and find the ground on which the story takes place. Many readers of these books have done exactly that because the stories grab, and the wish to dig deeper becomes powerful. A few words about Perry County could be helpful.
Perry is the first mountain county a traveler encounters when entering the Allegheny Mountains. The Native American tribes dominant when the white man arrived called the great paralleling ridges The Endless Hills, and they could seem endless to a settler attempting to work through, over, and around their twisted courses.
The lands of Perry County were entered by whites before the Penn family bought the land from the Indians, and those increasingly aggressive squatters were, in part, responsible for much of the Indian fighting that followed.
Pontiac’s Conspiracy of the early 1760s followed the French and Indian War of the middle 1750s. For twenty years there was little peace west of the Susquehanna River, particularly in the area now known as Perry. A later book of this series titled Fort Robinson details those Indian wars from both the white and Indian sides.
Perhaps oddly, the frontier rushed past Perry County without the population buildup that might have been expected. For almost two hundred years, the Perry County population remained at about 27000 souls. To this day, the family names are unchanged from earliest settling. Many of the farms are in the first settler’s name, and the county is fortunate in having its story recorded in a volume by Harry Hain titled, History of Perry County, Pennsylvania that has made understanding of those earlier times practical for other than dedicated historians.
I believe in the value of historical fiction. If well written, fiction can enlighten where “fact” books can only record that which is most pertinent to what happened in a particular instance. The novelist can present his story exactly as his readers will most enjoy. He need not “wish” that it had been thus and so. He can range his adventure broadly to include anything of interest, and his hero can climb the heights the way he should, but in real life might not have been able.
Unlike non-fiction books that must cleave to their details, the novelist can flood his descriptions to enrich and intrigue. A novel can be written to give pleasure, to arouse emotion, to inform, to influence, to condemn, or to beautify—to satisfy. Good novels are portable treasure chests of knowledge that is not assembled elsewhere.
My frontier volumes are those kind of stories. They have made avid readers out of men who never before completed a book. The educational and experience range of devoted readers approaches stunning. Everybody likes these yarns. These books have proven themselves fit reading for anyone—and in this day of license and irresponsibility in writing, “decent” books can be specially welcome.
Roy Chandler
Author
Chapter 1
Massacre
Jack Elan thought his holding stood a little closer to heaven than any place he had laid his eyes on. His hollow was not big, but wearing their fall colors, the hills rising all around made his clearing along the meadow warm and cozy. Their place looked lived in, as though people were putting down roots and had come to stay.
From where he had paused on the ridge, Elan could see past Conococheague Mountain and catch a glimpse of the endless Tuscarora rising even stronger in the west. The long mountain seemed purple and distant, but Conococheague was sharp in the crisp October air, and it comforted Elan to think of the shelter from winter storms the nearer mountain would grant them.
They had worked too hard over the last few months, but it took that to get settled in a new country. Both Ellie and the boy suffered chapped and calloused hands that were hard from pulling at branches and roots and helping where they could. All of them were leaned from struggling and hauling, but it was turning out good, and looking down he could take pride in the tight cabin they had thrown up with winter wood stacked high against the coming cold.
The cow shed looked strong and would hold against the wolves that came most often at night. Meadow grass mounded close to hand would more than do until spring shoots appeared. Thinking of Ellie’s insistence that they put up an outhouse at least as strong as the cow shed made Elan grin a little. Although he had groused about it some, he had been willing. His behind got as chapped as anyone’s from hanging out in all kinds of weather.
They had the start of a good plantation. Counting the meadow, they had nearly four acres cleared, although one of those acres was only girdled. Come spring, they would put out their first corn and fight off the crows and forest critters until they could make a crop.
Elan sucked a lungful of brisk air, tasting and smelling the wood’s damp around him. Ellie came out of the cabin with the boy close behind, and he wished he was a might closer so he could halloo down to them.
It looked as though he would not find game, anyway. The woods lay more empty than usual, and even the small creatures were out of sight. It could be that a storm was brewing back in the hills, or maybe there were Indians skulking about.
Indian fear chilled Elan’s pleasure. There had been Indian trouble to the south, and his cabin lay close against the new Allegheny Path. Hostiles were always a threat, and his cabin was alone on the mountainside.
The Robinson clan over on the big creek was building a blockhouse and by now they might have a stockade around it. Elan shrugged, Robinson’s fort might as well be over the mountain in Carlisle for all the help it could give him. When war parties struck they gave no warning. Survivors might flee and warn other cabins as they escaped, but by the time horns blew alarm, outlying cabins were most likely in flames.
The only plantation north of Kittatinny Mountain that could stand against a war party was Rob Shatto’s stone and tile-roofed fort even further to the east than Robinson’s. Unlike Elan, Shatto had people and guns to protect his walls. Some claimed that Shatto was part Delaware and was closer to the tribes than he was to the whites, so he might not be attacked anyway.
The worrying ruined the comfortable study of his holdings, and Elan rose, picked up his old musket and started down the draw toward his hollow. He edged his way along the slope as quiet as he could manage. A turkey flock worked the ridge, and he could happen onto them.
Elan wished he had more woods skills. He would like to move smooth and silent in the forests the way Rob Shatto did, but Shatto had come into the North Valleys when he was a stripling, while he, Jack Elan, had spent his forming years on Philadelphia cobblestones. Still, Elan kept his family in meat, and he figured to do so despite his clumsiness. Within the year he expected he could get a hog or two and begin to raise some chickens.
Hopeful settlers sometimes moved west along the path, and one or more might choose to clear land nearby. A good neighbor could triple the work that got done because two men hauling together managed a lot more work than they could laboring alone.
He saw fresh scratchings where turkeys had worked, but it appeared he had missed the flock. A man could always knock down a mess of squirrels, but the musket used such a scoop of powder that he hated to let go at anything that scrawny. There was enough venison left for a day or so, and Elan decided to head on in and get the chores done before dark came on.
The young warrior saw the cabin first, but it was the old one that insisted they look closer. The third Shawnee, Toquisson, the Heart-Eater,
appeared indifferent until the woman with yellow hair came from the cabin. The youth heard Heart-Eater’s breath hiss through his teeth and knew they would not pass the cabin.
Although no whites had been granted land west of the Susquehanna, the Shawnee had seen whites often. Their cabins clustered along the creeks, and some, like this one, lay lonely and unprotected in distant valleys.
Except for trading, whites were barred from entry, but they came, destroyed the forest and, despite many warnings, built cabins where redmen were not welcome.
It was wise to avoid the pale skinned people who edged ever closer, but these were lands of the Iroquois, and the Shawnee could hunt here.
The Shawnee band had hunted beyond their usual grounds and had finally separated into two small groups to spread their efforts wider. Instead of finding food for their lodges the Heart-Eater’s band now lay watching a white woman and her child.
They waited, for although no man appeared, one or more might be inside the cabin. Almost certainly a man would be nearby. Neglecting the young warrior’s opinion, the old warrior and Heart-Eater discussed a plan. The youth listened, wishing they had continued on; he saw little honor in killing a woman for her hair.
Finally convinced the man was away, Heart-Eater strode directly to the blond-haired squaw. Seated on a stump before the cabin, the woman did not hear their approach until the Eater was close beside her. Startled, she jumped to her feet, but the Eater’s fist had already closed about her scalp and she was held half-erect, the strength of his grip forcing involuntary tears and a gasp of pain.
The woman’s small cry caught the boy’s attention and he held, momentarily frozen by the sight of the Indians. She saw his eyes fly wide, and she sought to keep him away, but a fierce tug at her scalp brought her full upright and turned her words into a whimper of pain.
Her eyes saw the knife rising, but her mind was on the boy. With terror, she saw him leap at the Indians swinging his small stick at their legs. She tried to scream, but the knife was already entering. Impossible agony drove breath from her lungs. Her cry was weak and faded quickly with her life.