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53	Mississippi	Historical	Society.
gallery, and yet ?Old John" was not forthcoming. Never had he been so delinquent before. A wedding without the fiddler was scarcely considered legal. At length, as the night wore on, and the seven stars were high in the heavens, the impatience of the company became unbounded, and it was suggested that he should be sent for. The idea flashed across them that perhaps he had been beset by wolves. No sooner was this thought of than half a dozen young fellows mounted their horses and galloped on the path that led into the forest. About four miles distant stood an old waste house, and as they approached an infernal howling as from an hundred chained devils was heard and occasionally by way of interlude the squeaking of a fiddle. The old house had long been reputed to be ?haunted.? One moment the ?boys? listened in surprise; the howl of a single wolf could not terrify them; but the diabolical serenade from a dozen and the twanging of a fiddle from that dark old house! Davy Crockett himself couldn?t have stood it, so they ?turned tail? and "cut dirt? for the place they came from and reported that the Devil had caught ?Old John? and was then at the haunted house dancing a ?break-down? with fifty she-wolves for his partners! So wonderful a story, supported by sundry oaths, of course threw everything into confusion. The young ladies did not quite go into duck fits, but they exchanged mysterious looks and gathered round an old woman whose voice sunk into a whisper as she related some legend of sheeted ghost and midnight murder. The Squire, who was the oracle of the neighborhood, rather discredited the story; he took a big drink and insinuated that the ?boys? had tipped the bottle once too often before they set out, and roundly swore that he would face all the wolves in creation and all the fiddlers in h?1 if the company would back him. A drink all round was taken on the strength of this speech, and in a few minutes the men were en oute for the scene of action. They rode on in great glee for a mile or two, but gradually sunk into silence, and at length the wolf chorus came floating on the breeze and then the sharp notes of a fiddle were distinctly heard. The horsemen dismounted and crept slowly forward, concealed by the bushes, towards the haunted cabin. At that moment the moon burst forth and within the building might be seen the form of the old
A Trip Through the Piney Woods.?Claiborne. 537
?	fiddler poised in air playing a Virginia jig while a crowd of
?	wolves or demons were leaping, bounding and howling to the ' music. A hurried council was called. The company satisfied that it really was the Devil voted an immediate retreat, but the Squire jerked out his prayer book and swore he would run his nose through the chinks if every man deserted him. He started forward, repeating the words of the ceremony he had just performed, while the others, half ashamed and half afraid, dropped into line. The nearer he got the louder and more devoutly he spoke. The howling of the wolves became terrible; the fiddling grew livelier until suddenly the yell and din rose to such a tremendous key that the line paused, then broke in every direction and the Squire shouting ?Devil take the hindmost,? mounted his ?singe cat? and was the first to give the alarm to the terrified ladies. There was no sleeping that night. The rose leaf on the bride?s cheek had paled away; the jessamine drooped on her raven locks, though nourished by the sigh that came ever and anon from her gentle bosom. The groom sat by clasping her snowy hands and gazing with long, fond looks upon his priceless treasure. At length day came, and a more haggard, gloomy, disappointed company might not be found in the world. It was determined, however, once more to repair to the spot. Few things string the nerves like a clear sky and a sparkling breeze. They rode boldly forward; the tumult was heard as loud as ever. They pushed on. There stood the house? there leaped a dozen wolves up and down, panting for breath, their eyes red and fiery, their tales switching furiously to and fro; and there on the joist was perched?not the Devil?but Old John himself! The story is soon explained. He had set out rather late on the preceding evening for the wedding; night overtook him among the hills and he soon heard the ravenous creatures on his track. Nearer and nearer they came; faster and faster he fled, but still they gained on him. He dropped his hat?that detained them an instant. He then threw down his coat?they paused to scent it, but the next moment on they came, now in full view. Almost desperate he tore of! his shirt, but they merely paused to toss it in the air. Their victim was just before them and on they rushed. The fugitive dashed forward to the cabin, bounded convulsively to the joist, and at