Lewis Wetzel. 15 
few years younger than himself, who lived on Dankard’s Creek, a 
tributary of the Monongahela River, which waters one of the ear- 
liest settlements in that region, heard of his fame, and as he also was 
an expert woodsman, and a first rate shot, the best in his settlement, 
he became very desirous of an opportunity for a trial of skill. So 
great was his desire, that he one day shouldered his rifle, and whist- 
ling his faithful dog to his side, started for the neighborhood of Wet- 
zel, who, at that time, lived on Wheeling Creek, distant about 
twenty miles from the settlement on Dankard’s Creek. When 
about half way on his journey, a fine buck sprang up just before 
him. He levelled his gun with his usual precision, but the deer, 
though badly wounded, did not fall dead in his tracks. His faithful 
dog soon seized him and brought him to the ground, but while in 
the act of doing this, another dog sprang from the forest upon the 
same deer, and his master making his appearance at the same 
time from behind a tree, with a loud voice claimed the buck as his 
property, because he had been wounded by his shot, and seized 
by his dog. It so happened that they had both fired at once 
at this deer, a fact which may very well happen where two 
active men are hunting on the same ground, although one may 
fire at the distance of fifty yards, and the other at one hundred. 
The dogs felt the same spirit of rivalry with their masters, and quit- 
ting the deer, which was already dead, fell to worrying and tearing 
each other. In separating the dogs, the stranger hunter happened 
to strike that of the young man. The old adage, “ strike my dog, 
strike myself,” arose in full force, and without further ceremony, ex- 
cept a few hearty curses, he fell upon the hunter and hurled him to 
the ground. This was no sooner done than he found himself turn- 
ed, and under his stronger and more powerful antagonist. Discov- 
ering that he was no match at this play, the young man appealed to 
the trial by rifles, saying it was too much like dogs, for men, and 
hunters, to fight in this way. The stranger assented to the trial, but 
told his antagonist that before he put it fairly to the test, he had bet- 
ter witness what he was able to do with the rifle, saying that he was 
as much superior, he thought, with that weapon, as he was in bodily 
He bid him place a mark the size of a shilling on the side 
of a huge poplar that stood beside them, from which he would start 
with his rifle unloaded, and running a hundred yards at full speed, 
he would load it as he ran, and wheeling, would discharge it instant- 
ly to the centre of the mark. ‘The feat was no sooner proposed than 
