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1. Paul Venarez heard them say, in the frontier town that day, That a band of Red Plume's warriors was upon the trail of death; Heard them tell of a murder done: Three men killed at Rocky Run. "They're in danger up at Crawford's," said Venarez, under breath. 2. "Crawford's"—thirty miles away—was a settlement, that lay In a green and pleasant valley of the mighty wilderness; Half a score of homes was there, and in one a maiden fair Held the heart of Paul Venarez,—"Paul Venarez's little Bess." 3. So no wonder he grew pale when he heard the settler's tale Of the men he had seen murdered yesterday at Rocky Run. "Not a soul will dream," he said, "of the danger that's ahead. By my love for little Bessie, I must see that something's done." 4. Not a moment he delayed when his brave resolve was made. "Why, my man," his comrades told him, when they knew his daring plan, "You are going straight to death." But he answered, "Save your breath. I may fail to get to Crawford's, but I'll do the best I can." 5. O'er the forest trail he sped, and his thoughts flew on ahead To the little band at Crawford's, thinking not of danger near. "Oh, God help me save," cried he, "little Bess!" And fast and free, Trusty Nell bore on the hero of the far-away frontier. 6. Low and lower sank the sun. He drew rein at Rocky Run. "Here these men met death, my Nellie," and he stroked his horse's mane. "So will we we go to warn, ere the breaking of the morn. If we fail, God help us, Nellie!" Then he gave his horse the rein. 7. Sharp and keen a rifle-shot woke the echoes of the spot. "Oh, my Nellie, I am wounded!" cried Venarez, with a moan, And the warm blood from his side spurted out in a red tide, And he trembled in the saddle, and his face had ashy grown. 8. "I will save them yet," he cried. "Bessie Lee shall know I died For her sake." And then he halted in the shelter of a hill. From his buckskin shirt he took, with weak hands, a little book; And he tore a blank leaf from it. "This," said he, "shall be my will." 9. From a branch a twig he broke, and he dipped his pen of oak In the red blood that was dripping from the wound below the heart. "Rouse," he wrote, "before too late. Red Plume's warriors lie in wait. Good-bye, Bess! God bless you always." Then he felt warm tears start. 10. Then he made his message fast, love's first letter, and its last. To his saddle-bow he tied it, while his lips were white with pain. "Bear my message, if not me, safe to little Bess," said he. Then he leaned down in the saddle, and clutched hard the sweaty mane. 11. Just at dusk, a horse of brown, flecked with foam, came panting down To the settlement at Crawford, and she stopped at Bessie's door. But her rider seemed asleep. Ah, his slumber was so deep Bessie's voice could never wake him, if she called forevermore. 12. You will hear the story told by the young and by the old In the settlement at Crawford's, of the night when Red Plume came; Of the sharp and bloody fight; how the chief fell, and the flight Of the panic-stricken warriors. Then they speak Venarez's name 13. In an awed and reverent way, as men utter "Let us pray," As we speak the name of heroes, thinking how they lived and died; So his memory is kept green, while his face and heaven between Grow the flowers Bessie planted, ere they laid her by his side.
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