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James Redpath, The Public Life of Captain John Brown, Chapter 4: In caucus and camp. (search)
t, and a large Arkansas bowie-knife prominent among them. His head was uncovered; his hair was uncombed; his face had not been shaved for many months. We were similarly dressed — with red-topped boots worn over the pantaloons, a coarse blue shirt, and a pistol belt. This was the usual fashion of the times. Hullo! he cried, you're in our camp! He had nothing in his right hand — he carried a water-pail in his left; but, before he could speak again, I had drawn and cocked my eight-inch Colt. I only answered, in emphatic tones, Halt! Or I'll fire! He stopped, and said that he knew me; that he had seen me in Lawrence, and that I was true; that he was Frederick Brown, the son of old John Brown; and that I was now within the limits of their camp. After a parley of a few minutes, I was satisfied that I was among my friends, put up my pistol, and shook hands with Frederick. He talked wildly, as he walked before me, turning round every minute, as he spoke of the then recent