The Wild Boy of Wallahee.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIII, Issue 102, 30 April 1892, Page 3 (Supplement)

The Wild Boy of Wallahee.

By Maurice Thompson

The plantation was called Wallahee from tho name of an Indian chief who once owned it. In 1829 it was bought by Thoma s Verplank, who settled upon ib with somo fifty negro sla\es, and it remained 'n the possession of the Verplank family until about the year 1863, when a detachment of Federal troops destroyed ib.

At the end of the war Wallahee was badly grown up with bushes and bratnblee, th c fences were all gone, tho houses a ruin, and tho largo cotton gin stood roofles3 and forloru, the rusted machinery all oxposed to the weathor and falling to pieces.

Nobody came to occupy or as.-iume ownership of tho place, nor did any one know whftb had bocoino of the Verplauke.

About September, 1868, there arose a rumor in the neighbourhood that a wild boy had been seen at Wallahee. Ib was such a preposterous story (told by two or throe not over reputable negroes) that little notice was at first given to it by the neighbours. The boy was lohg-hairod, wildeyed, poorly clad, so these nea'roes said, and ran like a deer whenever ho was approached. But in a little while, so ready are people to receive gruesome impressions, the scory was a familiar one at tho liresides of all the families along Pearl River for milos, and, although everybody openly refused to beliovo a word of it, a good deal of talk was had about it.

Again and again tho negroes who were cutting wood near Wallahee saw or pretended to see, tho wild dishevelled boy skulking furtively in the thickets or running, ghastly and emaciated, through the open pine wood. One day Squire Gordon was riding along by way of the bridle-path known in the neighbourhood as Littlo Wolf Trail, when suddenly this strange, much talk ed-of lad stopped forth from a clump of haw bushes a littlo way ahead of him. Tho apparition startled nob only tho Squire, but his horeo as well. Indeed, the latter shied ho viciously that his rider was tumbled all of a heap at tho side of tho path. To be sure, there was nothing in the boy's looks particularly frightful, although his eyes were sunken, his cheeks waxen and withorod, and his clothes ludicrously worn and tattered.

When the Squire scrambled to his foet the apparition was pone. As soon as it became known that a justice of tho peace could testify to the story of the Wild Boy of Wallahee there was a mighty stir in the neighbourhood among both tho blacks and tho whites. What had before this been a mere fireside whisper now-ewelled to a veritable wondertale.

And now more and more frequently the boy was seen, by this one or that one, black or white ; it was always in some lonely place near Wallaheo, and he invariably evarled in thb mosb mysterious way any would-be pursuer. Finally it began to be observed that no mattor where ho started up, ho nover failed to run toward a certain area of swamp land which was covered with wisps of cano and tangled clumps of moss-hung oak trees. He seemed to like the night hotter than the day, especially when the moon shono. Many good people affirmed that they had scon him looking wistfully in through their windows, and that baforo they cculd get out of the doors he was gone. So the matter went on until nearly ovorybody had seen the Wild Boy of Wallaheo, and rhoso who hadn't seen him wore expecting to do so every moment). More than once a party of men organised thornselves and went on a systematic hunt, determined to capture this mysterious iittle fellow ; but every trial onded in failure. 'It's er sperit, thet's what it air,' declared old Andy Davis. ' How d'ye a'pose ye're goin' ter ketch or ghost?' Andy waa the oldest: inhabitant. His memory went back to 1829, when the Verplanks first came to Wallahee. 'They wus a leeble boy a livin' thar at Tom Verplank war guarjin of—Tom hed no chil'n of 'is own—an' thot leetle feller diserpeared mighty s'picionable like; I 'members it vory well. They was some talk of foul play, bub nothin' was done erboutit. Yo sco the leetle boy war heater all the money, niggora, an' land 'ab Tom Verolank war a usin' —don't ye see ?'

Andy winked knowingly, bub nobody elso could bo found who had heard of a missing heir bo Wallahee.

A great many people came to accepb this hinb, however, as the true solution. The Wild Boy was, they were suro, the ghost of Little Tunis Verplank, who had disappeared so mysteriously in IS3I. No sooner did Andy Davis , theory become current neighbourhood talk than tho little spectre appeared twice as often as before. He was to be seen both day and night. Children and nervous women were afraid to go oub alonG for fear of meeting what they now named the 'Haunt of Wallahee.'

It was William Raglan, or Billy Raglan, as the people called him, who ab last roused and organised the men and boys of all the country round about to make a comprehensive, systematic 'drive,' as he termed it, to capture tho thing, be it ghost

or boy. Billy Raglan was a youth of ]6, reckless, find yet a good enough fellow in his way. When he set out to do something everybody know that he would succeed if success wero possible. His plan in this case was for all of the men <md boys in the Wallahee settlement—some 200 or more— to form a great circle around the woods haunted by the Wild Boy, then gradually draw in to a centre by closing up the Hue and marching abreast from all diroctione in toward the litUe swamp. The plan was accepted to be acted upon, to Billy's great delight, and he felt like a general in command of an army when he saw the line forming. 1 Wo'il ketch thab 'ar boy,' he said, 'or run 'im inter his holo an' stop up the bole wi' er pine knot—thet's what we'll do !'

It was a lovely night, with the full moon climbing up a soft sky in the east. Dim and sbange were the outlines of the trees in the thick, dusky Southern wood. A light breeze made a> wide rustle and a solemn moan in the tall pines. The shadows waived fantastically.

Wallahee, with ita tangled woods, was encircled by the men and boys. They blew horns and shouted as they closed in toward the little swampy spot in the centre.

Billy Raglan was the most eager one of all. He tried to be everywhere at the same time.

' I air jes , er achin' ter git er holt er thab 'air' boy,' he kept saying as he ran this way and that just inside of the line.

Many wild animals, mostly small things like hares, raccoons, and opossums, were seen ; but the Wild Boy did not show himself.

At last the libtle swamp was reached by the noisy and now closely-drawn cordon.

' There ho is ! Yander lie goes 1 Look out ! don't let 'im through !' .Suddenly a chorus of voices yelled out : 'Grab'im of he tries to pass ! We'll gib him now !' Billy Raglan rushed forward, and many declared they saw him in full chase of a wild, ragged, haggard, tangled-haired boy. Plash ! plash ! plash ! the feot of the pursuer and pursued flung up the water of tho coti'ee-coloured pools as they tore along. The line pressed in with a surge and a tumultuous yelliug that made the forest ring for miles. Those who could distinguish them said that the Wild Boy was hoc as large as Billy Raglan ; itidoed, he did not appear to be more than twelve years old, and that he ran like a deer and wont straight for the central little hummock of the swamp. Billy was straining every muscle. Slowly but surely iio gained until, as it was afterwards said, he could almost touch the longyellow hair that streamed in half-curling locks from tho bare head of the emaciated little fellow. Closer and closer, in tho wavering moon, light, swept in tho rapidly diminishing circle of crowding, vociferating, floundering people. The Wild Boy could never break through. Once, it is said, he turned his face back on Billy with a look of terror and despair. This was just as tho i:wo wore entering the shadowy, moss-fes-tooned clump of trees on tho hummock. The circle was now so narrow that a stone could have been tossed across. Into the central clump, a-> the account goes, plunged the Wild Boy, and just) ouo step behind him followed Billy Raglan. A moment later an awful scream was heard and then came a dull, muffled sound, as of somo heavy body falling to tho bottom of a pit. Instantly the voices of the cordon wore hushed ; oven the dusky trees seemod to bo hearkening. Everyone pressed on, scrambling over fallen trees and dashing kneedeep through tho black muck and loafcovered ooze. ' Whar" air ye, Billy ?' called old Andy Davis. ' llev ey cotch 'im, Billy '!' There was no answer. Andy's largo yellow dog darted forward from his master's sido and'began striding at something beside a hugo, half-decayed water-oak log. 'What ye gob bhar', Trumpet?' demanded tho old man, as ho cautiously approached tho spot. ' I'ev yo found som'etbin'?'

Tho crowd now rushed up, and what they behold almost curdled their blood. Billy Raglan lay in a shallow, grave-like pit, faco upward, apparently dead, and by his side a skeleton of a small boy. Tho wild boy himself was nowhere to be seen.

When the first .shock had passed they lifted Billy out and found that lii.s heart still boat, ife was ill for some weeks ; bub he recovered. The skeleton when examined proved to bo old and bleached. Evidently it had lain there for many years undisturbed.

One thing a'ooufc the story was always and still is vexatious. Billy Raglan himself, although lie is yet living, has never told any pereon a single particular of that strange ad venture ; perhaps there is nothing for him to tell. If you ask him to relate to you tho real facts of it he only smiles and shakos .li.s head with a shrug. Bub old Andy Davis, now in his nineties, is always glad to ;;ive you his account of tho whole matter ; but Andy has never been considered a very good or a very truthful man. Mau vnev, Thompson;