He lay down, but he never closed an eye again in sleep as long as that boy was with us. But, after that event, Bill’s spirit was broken. He was attempting to cut off the top of Bill’s head, based on what he had declared the night before. Red Chief was sitting on Bill’s chest, with one hand holding his hair. Just at daybreak, I was awakened by a series of terrible screams from Bill. You won’t take me back home again, will you?” “Red Chief,” says I to the boy, “would you like to go home?” I’m Old Hank, the trapper, Red Chief’s captive. “He’s all right now,” says Bill, rolling up his pants and examining wounds on his legs.

“Ha! Paleface, do you dare to enter the camp of Red Chief, the terror of the plains?” The boy had two large bird feathers stuck in his hair. But, at last, we got him down in the bottom of the carriage and drove away. That boy put up a fight like a wild animal.

The boy hits Bill directly in the eye with a piece of rock. “Would you like to have a bag of candy and a nice ride?” The boy was in the street, throwing rocks at a cat on the opposite fence. One night, we drove a horse and carriage past old Dorset’s house. There was an opening on the back of the mountain. But wait till I tell you.Ībout 2 miles from Summit was a little mountain, covered with cedar trees. Bill and I thought that Ebenezer would pay a ransom of $2,000 to get his boy back. We chose for our victim - the only child of an influential citizen named Ebenezer Dorset. We needed just $2,000 more for an illegal land deal in Illinois. There was a town down there, as flat as a pancake, and called Summit. We were down south, in Alabama – Bill Driscoll and myself – when this kidnapping idea struck us. This story was adapted for VOA Learning English by Shelley Gollust. We present the short story “The Ransom of Red Chief” by O.

The ransom of red chief short story