The Black Rifle (Perry County Frontier series) Read online

  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

  Chip Shatto: A novel of Perry County Pennsylvania, the years 1863-6, 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

  Iron Brigade Armory

  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.