The Big Brother | Page 3

Judie, was the other. Mr.
Hardwicke was a quiet, studious man, who had come to Alabama from
Baltimore, not many years before, and since the death of his wife he
had spent most of his time in his library, which was famous throughout
the settlement on account of the wonderful number of books it
contained. There were hardly any schools in Alabama in those days,
and Mr. Hardwicke, being a man of education and considerable wealth,
gave up almost the whole of his time to his children, teaching them in
doors and out, and directing them in their reading. It was understood
that Sam would be sent north to attend College the next year, and
meantime he had become a voracious reader. He read all sorts of books,
and as he remembered and applied the things he learned from them, it
was a common saying in the country round about, that "Sam Hardwicke
knows pretty nearly everything." Of course that was not true, but he
knew a good deal more than most of the men in the country, and better
than all, he knew how very much there was for him yet to learn. A boy
has learned the very best lesson of his life when he knows that he really
does not know much; it is a lesson some people never learn at all. But
books were not the only things Sam Hardwicke was familiar with. He
could ride the worst horses in the country and shoot a rifle almost as
well as Tandy Walker himself, and Tandy, as every reader of history
knows, was the most famous rifleman, as well as the best guide and

most daring scout in the whole south-west. Sam had hunted, too, over
almost every inch of country within twenty miles around, trudging
alone sometimes for a week or a fortnight before returning, and in this
way he had learned to know the distances, the directions, and the nature
of the country lying between different places,--a knowledge worth
gaining by anybody, and especially valuable to a boy who lived in a
frontier settlement. He was strong of limb and active as he was strong,
and his "book knowledge," as the neighbors called it, served him many
a good turn in the woods, when he was beset by difficulties.
Sam's father was one of the very last of the settlers to go into a fort. He
remained at home as long as he could, and went to Fort Sinquefield at
last, only when warned by an Indian who for some reason liked him,
that he and his children's lives were in imminent danger. That was on
the first of September, and when the Hardwicke family, black and
white, were safely within the little fortress, there remained outside only
two families, namely, those of Abner James and Ransom Kimball, who
determined to remain one more night at Kimball's house, two miles
from Sinquefield. That very night the Indians, under Francis the
prophet, burned the house, killing twelve of the inmates. Five others
escaped, and one of them, Isham Kimball, who was then a boy of
sixteen, afterwards became Clerk of Clarke County, where he was still
living in 1857.
CHAPTER II.
THE STORMING OF SINQUEFIELD.
When the news of the massacre at Kimball's reached Fort Glass, a
detachment of ten men was sent out to recover the bodies, which they
brought to Fort Sinquefield for burial. The graves were dug in a little
valley three or four hundred yards from the fort, and all the people went
out to attend the funeral. The services had just come to an end when the
cry of "Indians! Indians!" was raised, and a body of warriors, under the
prophet Francis, dashed down from behind a hill, upon the defenceless
people, whose guns were inside the fort. The first impulse of every one
was to catch up the little children and hasten inside the gates, but it was

manifestly too late. The Indians were already nearer the fort than they,
and were running with all their might, brandishing their knives and
tomahawks, and yelling like demons.
There seemed no way of escape. Sam Hardwicke took little Judie up in
his arms, and, quick as thought calculated the chances of reaching the
fort. Clearly the only way in which he could possibly get there, was by
leaving his little sister to her fate and running for his life. But Sam
Hardwicke was not the sort of boy to do anything so cowardly as that.
Abandoning the thought of getting to the fort, he called to Tom to
follow him, and with Judie in his arms, he ran into a neighboring
thicket, where the three, with Joe, a black boy of twelve or thirteen
years who had followed them, concealed themselves in the bushes.